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President Obama is currently on holiday in Hawaii.

And, with his ass just handed to him and his government whore minions over matters of taxation, he has apparently elected to take a few extra days and pout a bit out of the Washington, D.C. spotlight.

In the photo below, Obama is smiling because someone just told a Sarah Palin joke that he understood. See… He has a hard time understanding people that work for a living, or have actually had a real job, in life.

All that said, Obama will apparently start to fly from Hawaii on Monday evening, returning to Washington, D.C., on Tuesday afternoon, the White House just announced.

…He had discussed returning Saturday or Sunday.

But, he’s sad. He’ll likely need to call Oprah so she can tell him he really is a good example. Nobody understands him. What the politically adept Oprah would not be telling the “king with no clothes”, is that no one will understand just what a bad example he has actually become.

“After the extended lame duck and five-day delay of his trip here, he’s just trying to squeeze in more time with his family before returning to Washington,” said spokesman Bill Burton.

Evidently playing golf with Michelle and the girls stuck in the hotel is Obama’s idea of quality family time.

Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

Brian Patrick Cork

This post is more about a historical footnote, of sorts. And, me showing off with corollary thinking.

Recent headlines state: Michael Vick leads Pro Bowl voting 1½ years after he was released from prison.

And, I predicted this.

Just to prove it, I’ll recommend you read my post from last season: i pick Vick – and Macbeth. That got a lot of attention. And, it was loads of fun to research and compose.

Don’t bother defying or debating me. I’ve reached a higher-plane.

According to my sources (and, those are better than yours because they come from “they”), the Philadelphia Eagles quarterback had over seven hundred and twenty nine fan votes as of last Wednesday – nearly forty thousand more than second-place Peyton Manning. Vick is going to be on a Wheaties box, soon. Manning had topped the balloting the previous two weeks before being surpassed by Vick. Actually Vick blew by him like he does most defenses – and, other people’s opinions.

It’s the latest evidence that many fans appear willing to forgive Vick for the vicious dogfighting operation (run by his white-trash family) that sent him to prison for eighteen months months as they embrace his stunning return to NFL stardom. A backup to start the season, Vick has led the Philadelphia Eagles to first place in the NFC East. along the way he’s accounted for twenty one touchdowns and throwing just two interceptions.

Just for perspective, other voting leaders include: Manning, New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady, Minnesota Vikings running back Adrian Peterson, and Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers.

Online Pro Bowl voting ends Dec. 20th. The teams are picked by a combination of fans’, players’ and coaches’ votes.

I care less now about what Vick did. The worse mistake anyone can make is the one they repeat. And, I’m looking for Vick to finish well.

Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

Brian Patrick Cork

I’m standing here (literally), and I’m claiming a verified miracle.

For twelve months I’ve been in constant agony with the achilles tendon on both sides. The globe has promised to spin off it’s very axis with the alarm and concern this has generated. In fact, you can read about that here: Brian Cork Injures Achilles Tendon Extreme sporting World Draws Collective Breath.

Running has been next to impossible, except occasionally – and, despite the economy, the makers of Baer Back and Body tablets (super-charged aspirin) have realized a banner year with all of it I’ve literally choked down. Every time I sat still for awhile, or slept, they (the achilles tendons) would go stiff, and I carried myself like an old man, hobbling about, with arthritis in his feet.

Then I started running on the turf field at North Park here in Milton (formerly Alpharetta). I could tolerate that and began to carefully increase my mileage again. The scenery is tenuous. But, I allowed myself to be lost in thought (and, to be certain, many of the worlds issues are potentially resolved) as I hurled myself around the pitch for ever longer periods of time. Late last week I looked up from a cooling-down walk when I heard applause. Joanne had come over to watch me on her way to Publix.

That was cool.

Maybe it was a sign.

I started realizing about that time the pain was easing. Then after a run Wednesday, that included my best effort to date, I realized that I was feeling pretty fit, and there was almost no soreness. Today I came out of the shower with nary a hint of discomfort. To celebrate in my own special way, I knocked-out a quick one-hundred push-ups.

Just like that… Healed.

I knew you, collectively, would rejoice with this august news.

Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

Brian Patrick Cork

I thought I was really busy. However, while pondering some notes on my Macbook at the kitchen counter I felt a gentle tug on my elbow.

It was my little Emma Jo.

She was still mussy from a good nights sleep. Her face, turned up to me, hopeful, as she made the simple request: “Daddy will you watch Enchanted with me?”

Being me a good number of thoughts ran swiftly through my head. But, God was with me, as usual, and the right words popped out with: “of course, my Love”. “anything”.

Images and memories can be created in the span of a heartbeat. The picture of Emma Jo below is how I’ll likely see her for the rest of my days.

For almost two hours of absolute bliss, I sat downstairs in the basement theatre with Emma Jo snuggled up against me watching what might be one of the best movies ever crafted for Daughters and Daddies. I’ve seen it a dozen times, and will look forward to many, many, many more efforts.

I know a lot of Dads read this Blog. And, I’ll add hope that, regardless of their age, you’ll invite them to watch Enchanted and love the life that only Princesses can be part of.

Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

Brian Patrick Cork

Friends of ours recently purchased a boat. Their youngest daughter happens to be best friends with my little Emma Jo. In short order we were invited to join them at Lake Lanier for a weekend.

That was fun. A lot of fun.

Emma Jo wanted a floating device that could be pulled from behind their boat (they are quite good friends of ours and such liberties are encouraged).

With the device that offered the best and most “whoo hoo” value with the requisite opportunities (with the pull-rope, for good measure) in hand, Joanne suggested we might want our own boat at some point.

So … I can now add the story of how I bought a boat to go with a water toy to my inventory.

This is a good picture of our boat. However, the people in it are not me, friends, nor family. Loads of other pictures are forthcoming, to include images of real people. These will likely include images of me with a smile splayed broadly across my sunburned visage as I fiercely grip the steering wheel and an icy cold Fat Tire (just in the correct combination, order – and, with due considerations of good judgment and safety).

Rowdy, our fourteen month old Rhodesian Ridgeback sits right at the front, his ears struck out like wings, as he barks and “boofs” furiously into the roaring wind, advising all that care to listen (and others that have little choice) that they are near “his boat”, on “his lake, with “his people”. We can also take him to Sunset Cove where we beach the boat just outside of the Water Park where we have season passes. Hundreds of people already know Rowdy, and adore him (and understand that “no people food” allowed – even hotdogs). He is a good boy.

And, I already know that I both need, and want, a bigger boat. The tug with that is even more powerful than that of elite sports cars. I’d never have though that possible.

Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

Brian Patrick Cork

I understand that a reference to the “prodigal Son” involves the restoration of a believer into fellowship with the Father.

However, I’m feeling controversial today. And, I know this post’s heading will grab attention and set a good stage.

And, it started with something I witnessed on Fathers Day, at the pool, as I was finishing up a work-out. Earlier in the week, as we made our way onto a local pitch (soccer field) for practice, we observed a group involved with a (pointless) youth football mini-camp. The Mom’s, in particular, were almost rabid with their earnestness (I used that word because it’s different than enthusiasm). The Dad’s were just awkward and tense.

SIDE NOTE: There was a little girl with one of the Mom’s at the football mini-camp wearing a t-shirt that read: “One Day I’ll Get Trashed at Prom”. This is likely a girl being raised by her Mom to be a cheerleader one day.

To wit…

I’ve realized – and, it’s not a simple opinion, that the best form of a son is that of a daughter.

Little boys whine a lot. Especially in sports.

We all know the family with the young lad raised by sisters (treated like live-in servants). He’ll make like a princess whose lost her pea and wail like a siren at the smallest slight. You Georgia Mom’s, in particular, and pee-wee football (“you doan’t understand… This is ah liiiife!”), know just who you are.

Lacrosse and Soccer just seem to bring out better qualities in people.

So… Circling back to the prodigal son angle… I observe the hapless earthly fathers of these girly-boys stand back in uncertain horror, and denial, at what they observe. But, in all fairness this is likely a reflection of their own young lives as well.

NOTE: My own Mother was a high-diver and brooked no weakness in her sons. We learned to swim, and well, before we could walk. And, taught us to value her. And, you’ll see that reflected in how I treat my own daughters (of Zion, or not).

By the way… I’m only picking on the sissies and the Mom’s who fit the above descriptions. So if it’s not you, described here; or, you can’t see yourself reflected in these words, don’t feel like you need to get all heated-up. Please… Feel free to prove me wrong, by all means.

Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

Brian Patrick Cork

So… I grew up in a military family. Ha! It’s painfully and juxtapositionally obvious, but also perplexing to most in my path. My Dad retired from the United States Air Force as a full Colonel. Many of my memories around Dad and his own measure of success – not to mention his influence over me are often detailed in this Blog. By reference, and an apparent favorite: do not miss your Chance to blow it.

However, I cam face-to-face with a relevant application of his example and influence from long ago just yesterday.

Setting the stage…

Early on, living the life of a scion of the Officer’s Club, I was exposed to the cream of the Air Force’s Strategic Air Command, and learned what those gallant men and women meant when they lived and died by the credo: “Peace is our Profession”. without realizing it at the time I came to appreciate experience, expertise and the chain-of-command. I witnessed first-hand, the synergy employed and enjoyed by gray-haird General’s mixing daily with fresh-faced 2nd Lieutenants, all firm in the belief their lives and contributions made a vital difference to one another, and the sanctity of our Constitution.

This means it never occurred to me that age, in-of-itself, was relevant. Only performance; and, all of it driven by courtesy and respect, and the call to action around a shred purpose. None were judged by anything but their ability to command and take commands that resulted, daily, in an efficient process that enabled them all to put their very lives into one another’s hands, without a second thought.

For example, I’ve never looked at an older man and saw weakness or lack of relevance. I saw only the likely potential of wisdom based upon one experience or another.

On the other hand, it’s never occurred to me to look at young people, as relative as that term has to be, and saw a lack of potential or ability.

Mind you… I’ve had my own adventures, hinted to in this Blog as well, but understood by only a few. But, my most recognized contributions have come through my duties as a Dad – and, that of a business man, that others approach for advice, guidance and stewardship.

And, for the first time in my business life, Friday in fact, I came face-to-face with a small team of burgeoning entrepreneurs, still in college, that invaded my offices – with the intention of enforcing accountability.

Background…

I’m in the midst of acquiring another startup that I’m convinced has a product that is a marketing-oriented game-changer. These soon-to-be-graduates are currently customers of the company. They are not pleased with the progress of their unique project. Our people say there is “scope-creep”. The customer says there is poor communication and missed deadlines. I want customer satisfaction and, thusly, affirmation of my investment.

Time will tell all.

But, in any event, at the large table in my board room, I found myself with three hearty and ferocious businessmen that, by age alone, qualified them to be my children. Although their graduation from college is imminent, with less than two months to go, they seemed small to me. And, they were naive, to be sure. But, eager and passionate, more importantly. And, they were irate over what to them was a lack of accountability on the part of the company. That is something that I’m unaccustomed too. My own ventures to date have been the example and hall-marks of accountability and service. So, I started the meeting open-minded. I coach soccer teams that are now at the U14 and U16 age bracket (and, they were all once at the U11 bracket). But, this was different. The first thought was mental arithmetic. I had started my own business at nineteen, also while in college (with the help of my Grandad’s money). I sold that business a week after graduation. So, I could, at many levels, relate to these young men.

But, I was biased. I knew it right away. Not defensive because they were displeased with a company I was involved with. No… I was actually age-biased.

I liked them well enough. I put them into the hands of a Project Manager that I’m mentoring myself, and even bought the entire lot lunch. We committed to deadlines and will work, with intent and a will, to see those critical deadlines met – all based upon collaboration.

But, this is me now. I’ll be fifty in October. I know I’m fitter than most. I’m always being sized-up by representatives of every generation; and, this group was no exception. I could do fifty pull-ups (I have the bar across the doorway of my office) with them hanging onto my back. And, that is how I viewed the entire matter… I’ll sling that crew over my should and see them to success. But, along the way I have to recognize that I’m going to be seeing more people that are younger than me, than older – and, my role in the business community is going to evolve, but possibly in ways I might not have considered before now.

So, every turn creates another opportunity to learn. But, also a challenge to be that example I experienced and have tried to live by daily, sitting at the feet of men that strode like giants around the world and taught me compassion, respect and accountability.

I’ll pause here and admit that I was sorely tested, a few times, to admonish them with a firm: “Stop interrupting each other”, and, “Please stop chewing on my business card”. But, they were, from their own perspective, probably working with an “old dude” with a big reputation for the first time in their emerging professional lives.

My own daughter, Haley Anne’s visage was flashing before my eyes. So to, were the eager faces of the students at Radford University, Georgia State and MIT, where I get to lecture from time-to-time came to mind. I’ll add my plans around “brian’s BEANS” as well. And, so that stage continues to be set, and my experiences are new and levied by other new things – including newer people and opportunities.

And, all these younger people are going to hold me accountable.

I’l have it no other way as they teach me and make me better and fitter to represent and reflect every talent God can squeeze into, and out of, me. This is where the Heterodox finds itself.

Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

Brian Patrick Cork

what’s all this about?

I can’t explain what that damn tree means - or, if it might stand for something.

However, here I do discuss events, people and things in our world - and, my (hardly simplistic, albeit inarticulate) views around them.

So, while I harangue the public in my not so gentle way, you will discover that I am fascinated by all things arcane, curious about those whom appear religious, love music, dabble in politics, loathe the media, value education, still think I am an athlete, and might offer a recipe.

All the while, striving mightily, and daily, to remain a prudent and optimistic gentleman.

brian cork by John Campbell

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"Perhaps victory can be realized best when the heart changes."

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about this particular Theme:

I'll warn you now that Tarski is theme of this blog created by Benedict Eastaugh and Chris Sternal-Johnson. It is named for the logician Alfred Tarski. I'll recommend his papers ‘The Concept of Truth in Formalized Languages’ and ‘On the Concept of Logical Consequence’, both of which can be found in the collection Logic, Semantics, Metamathematics.