An American Pastime.

To a certain degree, it is probably correct to say that the United States is involved in one way or another with the vast majority of countries in the world.
By means of war, trade, support, or rebuilding, among other reasons.
There is no doubt that the United States has an enormous influence on world economy and politics. However, there is no excuse for intervening in a country where we are not welcome.

For no reasons should we ever become involved in a country that does truly not want us there to begin with.
The only purpose for which the United States, or any powerful country for that matter, should intervene in the business of another country is if assisstance is asked for, first.
However, this can be taken case by case, as well.
If a terrible wrong is being committed in a country, so drastic of something as a genocide, or oppression of the people, a decision will need to be made on whether or not to involve ourselves in the agenda of any other country.
It will always be subjective to many different opinions, and the variables surrounding the situation at hand.
Whether or not the United States should choose to intervene politically, in a militaristic manner, or otherwise, is a choice that must be made quickly, and logically.
We are powerful. But not enough so to justify throwing our weight around.

Save the Princess!

Having recently been made aware of the plight of his Child Princess, our orange-turbaned hero and his ever faithful flying mount, Barder, took to the skies.
In an attempt to rescue said damsel in distress, OT (Orange Turban) switched gears into Turbo, and toggled to nitrous. This pushed Barder's stamina and endurance to his limits.
As a myriad of snowflake shaped paper cutouts exploded out of his rear end, the G-force began getting significant. They had finally broken the sound barrier when the duo began to lose altitude. Barder telepathically communicated to OT that he was getting tired, and needed to eat something to regain his lost energy. So OT kicked it down a notch, something he was often very reluctant to do, in any situation.
Barder landed with a thud on an asphalt road, where a few tandem snowflake cutouts were still erupting from his hindquarters. It was precisely at this moment that a mysterious individual snapped a picture of the duo.
Yeah, I don't really know where I was going with this story.

The Edge of a Rim?

It was late in the evening, and Nate Seven was returning home after the most important transaction of his life.

A vested man of 6'2'', he walked through the turnstile.
His eyes were deeply etched with sleepless nights, yet for a man deprived of such a necessity, he seemed to be somewhat alert still, if not somewhat distant.

In his hands, he carried a pair of rims, which had been recently acquired through uncertain circumstances. However, these were rims of a special sort, a special stock. At the very least to those involved in the business of rim collecting.

These special, vital rims would help Nate, this lonely man, earn the love of his father. His father, Rodney, being a self-proclaimed rim collector and connoisseur, had always been totally dedicated to his hobby since the death of his wife and Nate's mother a year after his birth.

One could say though, that Nate's father had a nearly over-zealous passion and love for his hobby. It was precisely for this reason that Nate never truly earned his father's love or respect, because it was hard to compete with bicycle rims. Especially chrome bike rims.

Excited thoughts raced through Nate's mind as he passed through the train station and through the turnstile, for tomorrow he would give his father the hard-earned, one-of-a-kind rims, and perhaps, buy himself just a small place in his heart.

Perhaps.