Even If Hillary Clinton Broke No Laws, Here's Why Her Email Server is Troubling

Hillary Clinton's email controversy is something to be concerned about even if she didn't break any laws.

Clinton had a server installed in her Chappaqua, New York home in January 2009, just before she took office as secretary of State. She used a private email address on that server for all of her State Department business emails and not a government address, which is more secure, even though State Department rules required her to do so.

Critics say that since Clinton used a server which she controls, there is no way to prove she didn’t hold back or even delete emails she didn't want seen if subpoenaed.

That's a valid concern. But let's give her the benefit of the doubt and say she has not hidden any emails. Even then, there are reasons for concern.

The very fact that Clinton clearly installed the server for her to use for all her State Department correspondence makes it looks as if she is buying an insurance policy just in case she needed to hide any of her correspondence.

We buy homeowners insurance in case of a disaster striking our house. Most people never have to file a claim, but we buy insurance just in case there is a fire, flood or storm.

Clinton appears to have bought insurance just in case she did need to hide emails. And that's troubling.

I want the public to see my email. I asked State to release them. They said they will review them for release as soon as possible.
— Hillary Clinton (@HillaryClinton) March 5, 2015

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Fox News: Justice Ginsberg may have 'dozed off' in Obamacare case

Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg has admitted to being "less than sober" when she dozed off during President Barack Obama's State of the Union speech earler this year. 

Now, there are questions as to whether she was dozing during Wednesday's arguments on the case questioning the constitutionality of subsidies in the Affordable Care Act, or Obamacare.

On Fox News Channel's "The Five" on Wednesday, co-host Greg Gutfeld asked correspondent Shannon Bream about Ginsburg.

"She was lively. She was right out of the gate," Bream said.  "The plaintiffs' attorney went first. He didn't even really get a statement out before she immediately was on to him saying there's, you know, sort of no way that we can interpret it the way you're asking us to. It doesn't make any sense. Of course, Congress intended for everybody to get these subsidies. The law doesn't work otherwise. There was one point, though, when there was some whispering among the lawmakers I mentioned who were there. And I looked over to kind of see what they were talking about, and they were gesturing at Justice Ginsburg because sometimes it is hard to tell if she's fully engaged because her head was down a little bit. I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt that she was reading, but some of those lawmakers felt like she may have dozed off."

Snowbird

I'm looking out my window watching a bird looking for a place to land. The ground is still mostly white from a rare Deep South snowfall, so he has to try to light on a tall, dry weed in the middle of the spot my father used to plant his garden. Of course, the weed is too weak to hold him so he has to fly away in his continual search for rest.

I live in a house built by my great-grandparents in the 1880s. They fled war in Germany to establish a new life in America. This was their heaven. I don't know if it eventually got old and became drudgery for them. But if they were any kind of human like the rest of us I'm sure it did.

They built a farm and planted this area all around me. That hasn't happened on a large scale in decades, but my dad did still plant a good-sized garden right outside the living room window up until a few years ago.

Now we have an upstart organic farmer trying his hand at it, but so far their has been no harvest.

Today, I live -- and work -- inside the house. I have three jobs, two writing and one editing, that rarely even give me time enough to enjoy this place. I'm sure my great-grandparents would be amazed that one of their progeny was still earning his living on the land -- if not off the land -- with some magical typewriting device which is able to instantly communicate with the entire world.

The end of the agrarian society meant my dad's generation lived on the family property but had to take jobs somewhere else. My dad ran an auto-body shop, putting people's cars back together after somebody's mistake -- or an act of God -- had cracked them up.

He still drove the tractor, though, keeping a garden to feed himself, his friends, and some loyal customer's at the local farmers' market.

I don't even plant a flower. I'm too busy. And I'm just not that interested.

I know how that poor snowbird feels, flying from one spot to another desperately seeking a place of rest and comfort.

There was a day when everything was fresh and clean, just like that newfallen snow. It melts over time, and the ground gets muddy.

Every year life gets a little more complicated. Some of those problems are of our own making, some just the natural course of events.

Spring will come, though. At least it always has.

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 Photo Copyright (c) Greg Richter.

Mea cuppa (or, I licked a cup, and I didn't like it)

		From my old blog's archives. Originally posted 03/22/03
		I did a funny thing at work this week. I have plastic cups I fill with water from the drinking fountain so I can use one for a day then toss it -- get a fresh one the next day. I've told co-workers to help themselves when they need a cup, just as people are kind to loan me something from time to time. Just the Christian thing to do, of course. But recently when I went for a cup they were all gone, and it hadn't been that long since I'd replenished the supply. Fed up, I wrote a kind, but stern note and attached it to the next package of cups stating that while anyone was welcome to help himself from time to time, please buy your own cups if you want them on a regular basis. Move to this week now, when my index finger had gotten extremely sore from too much mouse clicking. I got a cup, filled it with hot water, and soaked my ailing finger therein. Not wanting to waste a cup, I figured I'd just toss that one back into the desk drawer and use it again the next day if need be. Guess what? When I got to work the next day, someone had taken the cup. They'd drank out of my nasty finger-bath. Tee hee, served 'em right, I thought. So when I finished with my drinking cup that day I licked the entire rim and tossed it into the drawer. Next morning, yep, it was gone. I just woke up today with Jesus' admonition to give to everyone who asks, expecting nothing in return, on my mind. So now I'm publicly repenting. Thing is, I've struggled with that admonition a lot since I've worked at a downtown area with lots of panhandlers. While I'd like to follow the will of my Lord, I don't want to give someone money to blow on booze or drugs. I have a friend who works at an AIDS outreach center who advises to never give money to anyone on the street. She says the chances are 100 percent it will be used for drugs. In fact, she says not to even give them food, because they'll just trade it in for drugs. Mind you, she isn't some cynic; her life calling, after all, is helping people in need. But back to my co-workers. I shouldn't have a dilemma there at all. I know my friends aren't filling those cups with cheap liquor -- they're filling them with water. And numerous times throughout the Bible water is used as a metaphor for a renewed life filled with God's Spirit. Shame on me.

The Gospel According to Ned Flanders

In honor of the 12-day Simpsons marathon beginning tonight on FXX, here's a column I wrote in 1994:

"Hens love roosters and geese love ganders – everyone else loves Ned Flanders!" So sings a happy chorus introducing a Simpsons cartoon short.

"Not me," Homer J. Simpson, patriarch of the popular cartoon clan, angrily replies. "I HATE Ned Flanders!"

Flanders is the Simpsons’ born-again do-goody neighbor whose perfect house, perfect kids, perfect wife, perfect life are constant reminders of Homer’s failures and imperfections – as well as those of his dysfunctional family.

At first glance, Flanders appears to be the very example of what evangelical Christians often say about network television: that they are always portrayed as cornpone airheads or greedy televangelists. Not so. Though Flanders is anathema to Homer, he isn’t exactly ridiculed in the scripts. In Ned Flanders there is no guile – at least none that can be seen by anyone except Flanders himself.

Flanders is so self-effacing that once, while troubled about a lack of humility when dealing with Homer, he called his preacher in the middle of the night for advice. As the pastor’s wife handed him the phone, the perturbed clergyman muttered, "Ned Flanders? He must have stepped on a worm."

Not quite. Flanders was dealing more with the "such a worm as I" mentioned in the pre-politically correct version of the hymn "At the Cross." Earlier, Flanders had gotten into a bragging match with Homer about which of their sons would win an upcoming miniature golf tournament. This, along with once catching himself laughing a lewd Al Bundy comment, are about the worst of his character flaws.

While the most popular character on The Simpsons, bratty son Bart, has come under his share of criticism for supposedly influencing children to rebel against authority, you’ll notice that you can’t recall hearing about any junior high school principals banning Ned Flanders T-shirts.

And why is that? Is it because Ned Flanders isn’t cool? Is it because kids would be made fun of if they acted like Ned Flanders? That’s exactly why it is. And that’s exactly why Ned Flanders should be a role model.

Say what?

Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." And Ned Flanders, as much as he is laughed at, is exactly the person we all wish we could be. He’s the man Homer Simpson wishes he could be, and that’s why he despises Flanders.

Try as he might, the beer-guzzling, couch potato Homer is never able to live up to the perfect image he has of Flanders. Flanders, on the other hand, IS aware of his own weaknesses, and they trouble his conscience. That makes him a better witness to Homer than the pretentious church pastor Rev. Lovejoy will ever be.

In one episode, Home actually befriends Flanders after Flanders invites him to a football game and gets Homer the game ball. Homer then makes such a pest of himself that Flanders, trying to speed away in his car, is mistaken for an intoxicated driver. The church bus drives by as Flanders undergoes a sobriety test, and the next Sunday’s sermon is titled "What Ned Did."

But it turns out that what Ned did was to make Homer appear more righteous than himself because Homer, following Flanders like a shadow, began to perform charity work and attend church regularly – albeit not from the heart.

As the church stands almost ready to stone Flanders and grant Homer sainthood, Homer finally sees a little of the light: "If everyone here were more like Ned Flanders, there’d be no need for heaven; we’d already be there," he says.

If you pester me, I'll pester you for Jesus

Subject: Web Listing

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Subject: RE: Web Listing 
Hi,
Hope you are doing well. I was expecting your response on my email for Web Listing as was mailed you yesterday. Let me know if you are interested and we can discuss this further.

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Subject: RE: RE: Web Listing
Hi, Jake:
I have been tracking the success of your life and was wondering if you have accepted Jesus Christ and your personal Lord and Savior. I can testify that he has sustained me for the past 30 years. Before I knew him I believed I wouldn't be able to continue.

Everything isn't perfect, of course, but I do have true meaning now. The best thing is, this is an offer of eternal life. You'd think there wouldn't be enough money to buy that, and you'd be right. But it's yours free if you only accept the Jesus. If you would like to discuss how you can live your life for God, certainly, feel free to call.

Greg

'Yawning at Tigers' Urges Christians to Stop Trying to Tame God

Who's trying to tame God? Just about all of us to one degree or another.

Drew Dyck's new book, "Yawning at Tigers: You Can't Tame God, So Stop Trying," looks at the problem from two angles.

"Part 1: Tiger Territory" addresses the title directly. Dyck notes how the ferocious tiger has become little more than a harmless kitty when viewed in a zoo.

Fed on a regular basis and kept behind protective glass, the killer offers little excitement to adults or children – basically becoming a yawner.

That's how we've come to view God, Dyck says. We sing praise songs, hear sermons and read spiritual books that offer us the comfort of God's love and compassion while ignoring the ferocity of his judgment. And don't even mention his requirement of our holiness.

But before you think you're being beaten into submission, Dyck turns to "Part 2: Divine Embrace." This second part of the book focuses on God's closeness.

These aren't two different Gods. Much like the popular perception of the Old and New Testaments, the two sections present the same God who is wild and untamable by his creation, requiring holiness and obedience while also desiring a deep, loving relationship.

"Yawning at Tigers," [Nelson Books, $16.99, paperback, 209 pages] is a powerful challenge to Christians to live a meaningful spiritual life. It is perfect for those who read such books on their own, but it also has a discussion guide for each chapter at the end of the book for those who prefer group study.

Drew Dyck is managing editor of Leadership Journal, a publication of Christianity Today. Read my interview with Dyck on his first book, "Generation Ex-Christian" on The Huffington Post. 

An advance copy was provided free to the reviewer of this book.