Postcard To Posterity

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Dear Citizens,

In Theory: a civilized enlightened society’s charter
grants and guarantees Freedom of Speech Rights to
All; blind-eyes demographics; even political stripe.
In Practice, The authors of such sublime covenants
will presciently, sagaciously, vigilantly and valiantly
smooth out their words’ wrinkles; lest the citizenry
foolishly misconstrue or malevolently misuse them;
lest anyone’s speech ever incite imminent, lawless
action(s) that’d overthrow said enlightened society.

Sincerely,
The Founders

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Dear Joe

Dear Joe,

Excuse my exasperation and skepticism, but, just what the hell is left for real Americans to hope for when the other side of the pandemic involves:

  • a looming, climate changed, unfit for humankind, scorched Earth
  • mass murderer targeted school houses, houses of worship, etc.
  • police departments seething with bigotry, brutality and militancy
  • the ever-deepening Have-It-Alls and Have Nothings chasm
  • our Supreme/Federal benches overloaded with hardliner rightie judges
  • workers forced to endure non-living wages and union busting
  • free, fair elections mucked up by anti-American state legislators
  • a U.S. Senate hamstrung by DINO’s, the filibuster and parliamentarian
  • the too lenient punishment of the January 6th terrorists / their leader DJT
  • an electorate comprised of up to 75 million who plot to re-empower DJT

Let’s not mince words. The apparently getting off scot-free (AGAIN) Donald J. Trump has a massive ego, which won’t permit him to pass up another bid for reelection and, come 2024, win or lose, he will wield the power to paint the town; paint America blood red.

In Victory: DJT, obviously, will regain command of the military and will wind up seated atop a nuclear arsenal as considerable as his ass, itself; such deadly power proving more than adequate to enforce his “official” overthrow of Democracy; thereby denying life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness / the entire American Dream to all (save for himself and perhaps his immediate family).

In Defeat: DJT will, once again, dredge up the trope that non-existent, widespread voter fraud had denied him victory and then, promptly rally / deploy his vast private army of domestic terrorists STAT; send these insurrectionists on a bat-crap crazy rampage / assault that’ll likely dwarf what real America witnessed (and barely survived) back on January 6th.

Mr. President, far be it for this man, who voted for you, to tell you how best to live up to your Oath of Office, but, in my (History) book, this is not a Kumbaya Moment; one where your affable, camp counselor / Mister Rogers personae and gentlemanly demeanor will suffice.

That’s about all the strength this true blue, peaceable, private citizen can muster, today.

I sure as hell hope and pray that, when needed, you can summon whatever it takes to keep the peace; to preserve, protect and defend our beloved America.

Wishing you / your loved ones all the best life has to offer,

Tom

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P.S. ~ Since early 2020, this is how I’ve been ending all my posts…

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BioPic Trailer: Quick Limerick #111

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To run down biopic: Dumbo Encumbered
Into our lives, orange white elephant lumbered
He’d trumpet sick, toxic isms
To dredge societal schisms
Caused Covid dolor and death; ‘cause he slumbered

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“Mr. Watson, Come Here!”

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Two days ago, something in my life seemed amiss; i.e., how tranquil sheltering at home had become. It hadn’t taken long for me to pinpoint what was afoot, here, namely, the absence of daily, insufferable, nuisance calls; i.e. the robo deadpanned and live emoted telemarketing spiels, scams and threats.

I knew fully well that such callers hadn’t had some sorta overnight epiphany; i.e., come to the sudden realization that career-wise, the honorable high road doth beckon. Ergo, upon picking up my phone’s handset, I wasn’t shocked to discover the absence of dial tone. And, outage-wise, I’d been down that road countless times before.

A bit of background 411: My small corner of America can be best described as a tech dead zone, where phone lines and equipment are so archaic; have become so (literally) tumbledown, that both Alexander Ghaham Bell (b. March 3, 1847 / d. August 2, 1922) and his assistant, Mr. Watson may’ve been moonlighting as linemen during its original installation within my community (hence my headlined quotation).

Worse. yet, the telecommunications behemoth that I’m dealing with, hath a CEO / small “g” god, who obviously believes the word “upgrade” only applies to his personal paygrade, NOT to the actual infrastructure.

Consequently, his lackadaisical, tech refurbishment plan gets implemented one disconnected, disgruntled customer at a time.

More to the point: My combined land line / Internet service has been… well, let’s just say that service THIS IS NOT!

Anyway, within five minutes of powering up my cell, I found myself talking to a repair department god, a fellow named Jesus, no less (the son of god / CEO?). Upon his ascertaining my complaint legit, he issued a repair ticket and scheduled a lineperson for the very next day.

The only good thing about this entire mess was how remote troubleshooting capabilies had clearly established my outage to be the handiwork of an outdoor gremlin; ergo, it’d not be necessary for me to hang out at home (even tho I did).

Matt, the repair guy, showed up around half past ten, yesterday. Obviously, neither of us were taking any chances (Covid-19-wise). We were both masked up and, whenever we needed to discuss matters, my closed, virtually airtight, windowpaned outer door further isolated us at all times.

Long story ALMOST OVER, within the hour, he had successfully restored my service.

And I do say ALMOST OVER because the very first nuisance call I received, in the early p.m.… cue the drum roll / rimshot please… was on behalf of the Republican Party. The caller asked for me by name and after the perfunctory “pleasantries”, things took a decided swerve to the far, Far, FAR HARDCORE RIGHT. Yep, that sycophantic propagandist / history revisionist began effusively rehashing Donald J. Trump’s tenure as prez and then asked if I concurred?

Agreed to what? Her psychotic fantasies? Her delusions?

Not about to ever mince my words. I spot-on called out Donny using terminology such as insurrectionist and un-American. Now here are the real kickers.

Even after fully acknowledging both of my duly derogatory characterizations; her actually saying, “I understand”, she still had the gall to hit me up for a substantial financial contribution to the Republican Party; mind you, to the Republican Party absolutely owned and operated by fascistic Trump!

All of which begs the following questions:

In her book, is being an insurrectionist and un-American an asset? Something to be proud about? Had she misconstrued my words as being complimentary?

BTW, quite emphatically and repetitively, I had talked over her pre-programmed begging routine to inform her that I’d not be donating even one penny.

My gawd, these Republican freaks are billionaires, who could amply fund their party, by easily extracting the oodles of “lost” loot from between their collective sofa’s cushions. Yet, they’ve got the audacity to hold out their tin cup to this barely existing on a fixed income man?

Have they no shame?

It was while demanding that she add my phone number to the GOP’s Do Not Call List, that she hung up on me. So, it’s tough to say whether or not there’ll be any more nuisance calls from these insurrectionists and un-Americans at some point down the road.

Methinks I’d have been far better off, yesterday, had lineman Matt been a no-show.

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Another Caustic Acrostic

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Fascist Trumpers lead astray
Utter whoppers; bleat & bray
Civil Rights; they keep at bay
Killer cops; they still let play

Theocrats; they let prey/pray
Re climate woes; they naysay
Ugly insurrection is their way
MAGA dumdums join the fray
Pandemic’s ills? Here to stay!

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Take Out Orders

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As horrifying and dishonorable as Donald J. Trump’s (fortunately failed) coup d’état had been… still is… and shall forever be… we (who still cherish all the good things our Founding Fathers had secured for themselves and posterity) have been granted (at least) a twofold heads-up.

  • DJT’s hardcore cultist terrorists will follow his orders, unconditionally.
  • His bid for a 2024 reelection, WIN or LOSE, will be the death of us all!

Let’s do the pre-postmortem…

Victory means Trump and his legislative cronies will make gutting the U.S. Constitution of its 22nd Amendment their top priority. If they succeed, gone will be that stipulation (words to the effect): “Hey mister prez, once your second term is over, get the F out!” At that juncture, Trump, in the role of the till-death-do-us-part tyrant, will force the death of America.

Defeat means that, once again, Trump’s narcissism triggered, sore loser persona will re-emerge (if it had ever, even gone away in the first place). In his debilitated state of mind, he’ll reinstate his fraudulent voter fraud claim AND, with his outrage at its acme, he’ll bark out his Take Out Orders to his cultists; who, in turn, will do their damnedest to, on his behalf, force the death of America.

That sure as hell evokes a most unpalatable connotation to the mostly restaurant-specific phrase:

Take Out Orders

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Undue Concerns To Undo?

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So, are my concerns regarding a recent incident reasonable or unruly? Would such surviving, strong sentiments subside, eventually, all on their own? If not, should I attempt to subdue them via free expression? Perhaps my distilling everything down to a white screened, black font would prove cathartic? Well, here I am.

Let’s see what happens…

It all began this past Saturday, approximately an hour prior to nightfall. While gradually drifting off to the land of nod, the sound of an approaching jet, flying at a lower than normal altitude, abruptly sent me round tripping it back to reality.

However, I had no sooner opened my eyes than the decibels had already diminished, dramatically. Perhaps I had only dreamt this? Whatever the case, now fully awakened by this unconventional alarm clock, I opted to awaken my laptop, too (to apply polish to a rough draft).

Well, after approximately ten minutes had flown on by, the jet’s roar returned; thereby proving its first occurrence no dream. Seeing how, typically, there’s not a whole lot of air traffic over-hood, I immediately suspected that its pilot had opted to go the holding pattern route to confront something, shall we say, out of the blue?

This time around, I stepped out onto my front porch for an upward look-see; all to no avail. Seeing how the cloud deck was nearly “eclipsing” the sliver phased moon, I hadn’t actually expected to perceive much more than that aircraft’s, once again, fading decibels.

As it all unfolded, this plane, eventually, returned for a third and fourth flyover. And not once, during my two subsequent ventures outdoors, did I ever catch even one glimpse of it.

There are multifaceted reasons why this entire event kept my thoughts flying off to truly dark places.

  • It had been the timing aspect, itself! After all, this past Saturday was the 20th anniversary of 9/11; when [1] Osama bin Laden’s homicidal, suicidal “flight crews” had commandeered four commercial airliners, [2] terrorized and brutalized passengers and the flight crews, [3] stomped bin Laden’s grotesque, gargantuan footprints all over NYC, DC and PA and [4] went on to forever turn upside-down our entire world. I could not help but wonder if some passenger(s) had opted for a 9/11 reboot?
  • My mind kept on “screening” vivid recollections of my 2004 harrowing flight home; when a widespread, severe, early spring, thunderstorm’s 128kph / 80mph winds had necessitated the total shut down of our destination’s airport. The accompanying turbulence, above, wound up tossing our flight attendants about and, we wound up in a holding pattern that dragged on so long, that the pilot had to reconfigure a flight path that’d land us at an airport’s “gas station” several states away.
  • We are talking about my brush with death, here. Had our captain, instead, risked hotdogging a landing under such wild and woolly weather conditions, the tragic end of our flight would’ve become the 11 o’clock newscasts’ lead story, nationwide; would’ve fueled the disaster film screenplay writers’ imaginations; kept their typing fingers flying across their keyboards. Had lightning strike(s) fried the plane’s electrical systems and/or struck the engines, we’d have all wound up no less dead than the 9/11 airborne victims.
  • I also could not avoid factoring in the present day reportage re air rage; i.e., where we discover the mentally challenged Trumpers / domestic terrorists rearing their ugly heads; flying off the handle for absolutely no reason; getting handcuffed/duct taped to their seats. I wondered, anew, if such an uprising was going down?

I spent the rest of my Saturday evening working on that rough draft, but, inevitably, succumbed to fatigue long before the 11 o’clock news.

Upon my awakening Sunday morning, I immediately tuned my FM radio into NPR’s Weekend Edition, where, thankfully, there were no reports of any air-related incidents or accidents.

And while I could and did take solace in that, there could never be any feel good moment associated with the lessons that Tuesday, September 11, 2001 had so dramatically taught anyone in possession of a fully functioning brain connected to wide open ears.

While the governmental types can pat themselves on the back for toughening up airport / airplane security, they’ve yet to dig deep down to the root of what’s been fueling terrorism; be it organized or lone wolf; be it of foreign or domestic origin.

Post 9/11, our “leaders” have done little more than apply a band-aid (if even that) to the gaping, festering wound of poverty! It’s their abject failure to honest to God help the people overcome joblessness, homelessness and hopelessness. When folks, besieged by discontent and desperation, believe they’ve got nothing left to lose, that renders their minds totally susceptible to suggestion.

And God help us all were any of the impoverished to ever be within earshot of some disciple of Osama bin Laden or Donald J. Trump incarnate.

Well, folks, it’d appear that my distilling everything down to a white screened, black font did prove cathartic and much more, too, that is, if my anti-poverty message will ever be taken to heart. The betterment of our global society depends on such enlightenment.

Once the WordPress runway and www send my (fortunately non-subdued) sentiments aloft, let’s hope they’ll wind up in holding patterns above all nations, where the “sovereigns” are in desperate need of learning such a fundamental truth.

Let’s see what happens…

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The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend?

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Of late, my homeland’s propaganda ministers, in their never ending quest for untold wealth and interminable power, have been hammering away; “rationalizing” their subversive, self-serving, burn down democracy agenda; contorting it to conform to this simplistic ideological one-liner…

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Gabriel Manigault • 1884

Once we plug their peculiar particulars into that above ideological equation, the following, most problematic state of affairs surfaces.

The Real America and (by extension) President Joe Biden become their “enemy”. As for that “friend”, that, regrettably, involves, none other than the ruthless, inhumane top dogs who make up Afghanistan’s newly reinstalled oppressive regime.

My gawd, these un-American pundits have actually been assaulting the airwaves and polluting the streams to (verbally) ejaculate their undying praise and admiration for the Taliban, and in the same breath, trash talk Biden.

Indeed, we discover propaganda ministers reviling liberty, justice, racial harmony, feminism, gender parity, the LGBTQ community, the aged and infirm, environmentalism, etc., as much as (if not more than) the Taliban does. Whether or not they’d acknowledge each other, these ♥newlyweds♥ / ♥honeymooners♥ have entered into an ideological marriage made in Hell. What a shame America’s traitors don’t emigrate to Afghanistan to (politically speaking) ♥consummate♥ their marriage / set up permanent housekeeping.

After all, be it ideological or physiological, doth not ♥screwing♥, at some point, come into play?

Now, let’s contrast all that drama to what the Real America and Real Americans actually stand for. Deep within our collective consciousness resides an eternal passion to preserve, protect and defend our Founding Fathers best intentions; to nurture and proliferate their vision of America; until ol’ Sol dies; to then, “set sail” across the vast heavens ISO a new home world to start anew.

Alas, at this pivotal moment in American History, the propagandists’ victims appear to be too far gone to ever experience what the Real America is all about. Instead, they’ll think whatever the propaganda minister monsters tell them to think.

Worse yet, the way they’ve been told to think has also radicalized and weaponized too damned many of these patsies; so much so, that, if ever given the opportunity to fly under the TSA agents’ “radar” (at the drop of a red MAGA hat) they’d even pull off a bin Laden to hijack and kamikaze commercial aircraft into iconic architecture.

Seeing how rampaging throngs had almost made Donald J. Trump’s January 6th insurrection / fascist overthrow of democracy a “done deal”, they’ve amply demonstrated the contemptible, treasonous acts they’re capable of.

Statistically speaking, the 2020 census reports that 331,449,281 people now reside within America. Factoring in the 2020 election results, which indicate 74,222,958 voters had sucked up to Donny, that means approximately 22 percent (or 1 out of 5) of all who mosey ’round America are his strange… very strange… bedfellows.

With the propagandists’ “toolbox” fully stocked with Stockholm Syndrome, too, it’d appear that the honeymoon is far from over for a hefty chunk of those brainwashed, enamored, politically horny toadies; not to mention the scads of the non-voter zombies, who also pledge allegiance to him; plant metaphorical anti-American ♥kisses♥ on his fascist fanny.

That makes the enemy of each enemy (propagandist) anyone who, generally, can identify effects’ root causes, specifically, think independently in pro-democracy terms, and, promptly tell disinformation’s spewers to F off.

And seeing how propagandists are ubiquitous, most any reader who dwells outside the U.S., should find much or all of this sad story relatable.

Naturally, if your own homeland’s leaders / lawmakers have been behaving in an evolved, consistent manner, consider yourself damned fortunate. You do have my kudos and congrats for a job well done.

There’s much America could learn from you.

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Fortune Cookie Blog (Freedom)

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Both Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Press
must be sacrosanct, yet, not without constraint.
Be words roared from the rooftops with resolve
OR words penned into parchment with purpose,
as Hippocrates’ Oath alludes, First Do No Harm!

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Now that we’ve consumed today’s tasty Fortune Cookie, let’s turn our attention to the crumbs; i.e., the crummy entities who inspired its baking; the crummy bums who ARE doing harm.

We’re talking about the ideologically ORANGE shifted, streamers, broadcasters and bloggers, worldwide, who get off on sticking their collective nose into America’s business. As if their own homelands are WHAT?

  • So problem-free they’re yawning thru slow news days?
  • ONLY they possess the expertise to set America right?

My gawd, that’s both disingenuousness and hubris at its butt-ugliest.

Beyond that, their delusion-fueled notions of what constitutes “right” is nothing short of encouraging the Orange Menace to take another stab at the Oval Office, come 2024; an election where, win or lose, the vengeance seeking OrangeMan’s top priorities will zero in on burning down Democracy / America and the entire planet.

Both now, and for the foreseeable future, these meddlers, abroad, will continue to conspire with Stateside, ideologically ORANGE shifted, streamers, broadcasters and bloggers; the whole kit and caboodle determined to undermine what little progress President Joe Biden has made; to utterly roadblock what he has yet to accomplish.

And while, via re their surge in TV / Radio ratings and website hits, these pundits stand to flourish, the real America, which they’re hellbent on tearing asunder stands to flounder and fall.

See what I mean about crumbs?

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Our Last Stand?

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Many of us have been witnessing the legions of unhinged, alleged Americans, who’d even provoke a second Revolutionary War just to re-install their fascistic, narcissistic, parasitic, idiotic control freak idol; that bizarre anomaly in no need of any further, formal introduction.

Informally, let’s just refer to him as the deplorable has-been / ne’er-do-well, who compulsively dyes his mangy tresses haystack yellow and routinely spackles lurid orange, Bozo the Clown make-up onto his mug; and leave it at that.

Now, here’s the rub. Were OrangeMan to ever be re-empowered, he’d work not towards society’s betterment but to its detriment. His main mission would be to financially and morally bankrupt America; all for his own personal gain.

To see his plot to fruition, he’d resort to mind numbing the masses; his M.O. akin to the payola pocketing, sleazeball DJ, who, right on cue, repeatedly blasts some, no-talent, one hit wonder’s lyrically barren, trance inducing muzak over the radio airwaves / Internet streams or onto the shabby, rundown, smell the stale urine and vomit, night club dance floor.

He’d also brainwash, factionalize and marginalize our society; pit people against people; relentlessly belittle our charming physical traits, delightful accents and full bodied, cultural diversity; hard sell his batshit crazy, bigoted delusions that, in some way, humans worshiping anyone other than a Christian deity, being blessed with a robust skin melanin content and speaking in a non-English tongue present what? Some sort of threat to humanity?

How much more moronic could he possibly get?

Truth be told, it is he who’s the actual threat to humanity; he, who has yet to be held accountable / punished for his attempted overthrow of America, back on January 6, 2021.

His escaping justice, so far, is precisely what’s mucking up his alleged mind, too! That scofflaw wrongfully equates his never punished status with vindication / validation. At this juncture, there’d be no stopping him from seeing the following threat to fruition…

“I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn’t lose any voters, OK?”

Donald J. Trump / Dordt College / Sioux Center, Iowa / c2016 January

NO, IT’S NOT OK!!! Some fatherly advice is in order. Should you ever spot him on Fifth Avenue, RUN LIKE HELL IN A WILLY-NILLY MANNER AND, WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT STOP TO LOOK BACK!!!

Fortunately, re January 6th, it’s still not too late to charge him with treason; haul his ass into court; convict and imprison (or institutionalize) him. At the very least, we must forever deny him all high elective office. Should we fail to do even that, he’ll remain an ever-present danger to America / our entire world.

That very problem could become evident, within hours of the polls closing on Election Day 2024. How so? Well…

Should VainMan emerge the victor, once sworn back into the Oval Office, that vengeance seeking, seething with anger psycho would [1] give free rein to the still rampaging, countless, coronavirus variants, which, in turn, would burn up citizens in sickening, deadly Covid-19 fevers and [2] allow climatic change to burn down the entire planet in one helluva catastrophic conflagration.

Should VainMan emerge the sore loser, right on cue, he’d instantly bark out, “Sic ‘em!” to his sicko sycophants, who, in turn, would re-stage their January 6th attack and obediently, promptly burn America down to the ground.

Long Sigh…

I trust that I’m far from alone, here, when it comes down to rehashing the above content. But, such repetition is vital and not sans good reason.

You see, most critical thinker, liberally minded bloggers, such as I, identify with the burning passion of America’s Founding Fathers; share their vision for honest, level-headed, even-handed, liberty-based governance. There’s no way that I’d ever forsake these very ideals, which well up my eyes with joy, pride and even awe.

In other words…

  • I flat out defy damned near everything that that contemptible Anti-American anomaly stands for!
  • I will not stand down until that fascistic, narcissistic, parasitic, idiotic control freak stands down!

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