The Message Column

Halloween

Boo!

I haven't posted anything in the last few days. I wrote some things, I didn't have the energy to publish them.

I've tried to be clear about why Hillary is a bad choice, it has to do with maintaining the rule of law and the Constitution. I've gone on and on about it in the past, that the means doesn't justify the ends, that very many have worked to accomplish their goals despite it being anti-democratic, and done through extra-judicial insertion of new law from the wishes of foundation donors.

I've been rather an apologists for the Clintons, despite my endorsing Donald J. Trump. But at the same time I've tried to be clear: electing Hillary rewards the very bad behavior of the scoff-laws in charge of the government now who don't care what the law is, except if they like that part of the law.

Now that I've heard about the EPA, and the 26 million and the country of Morocco, and a mining operation in Florida, and an event in Morocco, with a seeming Quid pro Quo, a perplexed mine operator, and the Wikileaks I see now that Hillary for Prison might be a good solgan after all. Before I thought it was too inciting: that it was like starting a brawl with people who are enthralled by the democratic smoke factory of the Clintonistas and the Hillaryites, those who can easily be tripped into behaving ackwardly through some trigger, either an idea or a word.

The urge for reformation is strong. The urge for revelations about the Clintons had become an obsession. I now know that the worst case things that are said about Hillary are so horrible that we can't take the chance, we need to make sure she looses the election in a landslide.

So how do we explain it to all of those who have not yet awoken? How do we tell them, sleeping by the side of the tree, that a snake has crawled into their mouth? This is a Sufi story. The snake, at a place along the way (where the Caravansarreau would travel) is seen by a traveler who happens upon a sleeping man. He sees the snake crawl into the man's mouth! After that the traveler hops into action and begins to beat the man, not telling him why. The man feels that this other man, who is beating him, is a tormentor and he doesn't understand stand why he's doing it. But meanwhile the man doesn't tell the one he is beating why because he doesn't want to scare the guy to death.

The beating results in the snake crawling back out of the man's mouth, which saves the man. At that point he sees his tormentor as a hero, and understands why it all happened.

In politics, when were dealing with our angry friends and relatives who don't want to hear about how horrible and corrupt Hillary and George Soros are, they are going to have to face the music. They are going to have to hear about it. They are going to have to admit that they have been fooled, again (a reference to a Who song.).

It's not so strange, is it, being fooled? Is it your fault for not paying attention, or is it the fault of those who put you into that hypnotic state of being non-critical about various players in the political world? We all have lives, we can't dedicate ourselves to the constant drip of corruption and greed that dissolves the purpose of governance and makes it into a blatant and unnecessary tyranny that harms the world instead of helping it.

But we ignored this serious tendency back to monarchal fuedalism for long enough. We can't let they who are called 'The Globalists' from using institutions set up by their aristocratic grand parents, who usurped the public power back then, and crafted a 'diplomatic world leadership class' for their next generation, who were to be given job for life luxurious living, and super citizen status; and who, meanwhile, could treat it all like it's their property, selling off the various resources of which they are supposed to be guardians, or peddling influence. For example, the phosphate mining operation in Florida is said to have been targeted by the EPA because the Clinton Foundation (alleged) got a quid pro quo from the King of Morocco, who was just paying what was probably, what he felt to be, the cost of doing business. But it does display rather clearly the kind of corrupt methods of cartel governance that the quid-pro-quo machine of the Clintinistas and the Soros foundation thralls. Some in governance use use their stations or offices, to monger for the the positions and causes of their supporters and enablers of the opensourous foundation (part of the operation). Some in offices of government, such as the EPA or BLM, enforce that cartel governance. You want to play? You gotttsss ta pay them. That is what they want you to think but the other choice is to oust them from power, which is what those of us who woke up to this corruption years ago have worked so hard to do.

So I am pleading with you: please! We can't let it go on any more. Don't be a fool, and a thrall. Don't vote for that woman! It will be disaster for the country, and the world.

Well, so, if they swallowed a snake, it's not a real snake, it's a metaphoric snake. So we can do the metaphoric beat down? But we can't. Because it's impolite. We can't beat them with the truth till we expel their snake of fallacy. We do need to do something. And hopefully we are accomplishing it: you have to vote for some one other than Hillary. It doesn't matter who, I suggest Trump. You need to do what it takes to defeat Hillary. Those people need to be held to account.

We need a discovery process about the government and the governance, a purging of EPA and BLM and other offices of our government from the deep-plant open-sore of the foundation Democrats, who seek a return to a feudalistic world with them, and their cartel allies under the new flag of the world order that was set up by their grandparents generation.

This is not a rejection of a moral Global order, though it might sound like that to you who are hypnotized. It's a rejection of lawless cartel governance that loots the world and treats citizens like pigs to slaughter. It's a rejection of the globalism of elites, whose grandparents didn't go far enough to make reparations for all their crimes back when they set up their schemes for even more dominance. We need to return to Democracy, and reject the usurpers of it, the scofflaws of the foundation democrats, the secret aristocracy, the open and immoral sore on our political system. We need to reject the cartel governance of foundation democrats. Return to the constitution and reject the extra-constitutional "executive order" rule of corrupt men, like the current administration, which rules like a dictatorship, and the Paul Ryan republicans of the moribund arm of the late Republican party who capitulate with that. The Republican Party is dead! Long live the Republican Party!

We need a reformation of the government. We need to hold to account the cartel foundation democrats and their neo-con allies. We need to stop them now, because if they can get two more years, with Hillary as the wounded queen bee, they might just go full Stalinite on the world and kick in to high-tyranny mode, like a wounded beast in it's final rages before being fully vanquished.

Again, please vote for Trump. And if you can't do that, then please do not vote for Hillary.

6:10 AM EST

1 Nov 2016

low lo low lo low
Jiggiddy
oh owe oh owe oh
Jiggiddy

Low lo low lo low
do diggiity
oh owe oh owe

The whole crowd is 
dancing
close
and slow

Ewe ahh
Ewe ahh
Ewe ahh


  

 
 You
 Shine,
 Great Light,
 on everyone, you
 Shine!

how about an excerpt?

The Blank page

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  Praise     Praise     Praise
   the        the        the
   Lord       Lord       Lord!
  for    because    
 Easter  He's so awesome! 
  welcome to The Message Column!

      🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
      ♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥

      

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software?
Anyone?

 

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🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥

      

     
Vote Once
One Vote
here is a fresh link, a new path to some older content:
   photo pile!
   
 

 
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In Wicked Need of an Edit

🚛 🎓 🎔 🌀

Political and Media Inanity

Kafka wrote comedy. Orwell was a pessimist. Depends who you ask.

Imagine if they both could have lived and made it to Los Angeles, post war, and been collaborators on writing romantic screwball comedies for Hollywood. If we search IMDB for movies written by Kafka, or by Orwell, will we find one? I kind of doubt it.

Truck-u-later

in this column Truck-u-later steps in deeper . . .

Only two more weeks, folks, and we get to know what the next step will be.

Oct 24, 2016

fifty dollar used automobile, runs, as is, with an Army coat in the trunk, just my size. They are driving me too far!

Delete Kruft.

this was once a poem
but now it's just me
filling space.

This was once a grand solioquy
of a man with a sense of eternity
skipping down the page.

This was once poetry
of a high gauge.

And once I thought a while
typing all night long
I put my drafts on the Internet
and some times it's a song

this was once a song
a poem
a dream
a roaming rock wants to dance
wants to swim
in a parade 
of awesome
standing in the late afternoon sunlight
of a beach of eternal
time
passing
repeating
passing 
repeating
this dream
your tan
his house
that door
was lock
the window
and the wall
and the cold wind
we were no longer friends

this was once a dream of you
it had a flavor,
like I could smell apples
and the day was bright and long
ever morning dreaming of you 
bringing

This was once a memory of a song
that had been a poem before
until someone saw it there, 
put it to a tune, 
used it without permission
these years of words draining
these heartbreak cliche days
dreaming
day dreaming
daze dreaming.
The sound of the rain.
oh, you literal cliche.
he keeps typing enen when he has nothing
left to say.
Hit enter.


My poem hadn't arrived yet
the promised poem, that
great epic trilogy of hope
and pathos coming to 
awareness of truth and life.
It wasn't there yet. 
It flopped around awhile,
the door to the garage had been locked
by his uncle
and no one would be getting access to the key
and then he died.
We were left standing while the storm approached
out in the rain
streaming lightning
but it was only a dream in a poem,
not even a real dream.
His uncle was never ever mean.
And if angels scream of sleep 
at the end of a very long day
waiting for parents to let you get in the car
and drive away
to a place with your bed for the night.
No one else will be there then,
it will be him alone with his toy tracktors.



If you go to his barn
you might find
a dream he had before
he started using
that excuse
that he makes up
over and over
like he forgets
that you know
it was obvious to you
you could tell by the mood swings,
the dust on his guitar strings,
the flat tire on his motor bikes,
the bird carcus laying next to the closed window
where it had flown against it and died
maybe a year before.

And driving away 
you wanted to pretend that you could still
sense the glow
the hope
the promise,
that eternal beach in the sun
afternoon eternity
for ever with you kind of
joyous
venture
the memory of which never goes away.
And locked within your jones you'll neer know the way he feels for you,
a love that's true.

And driving away
you know
that even though you might never go back there
you will always be there.

The paradox of that last verse
makes sense
during the dusk that descends upon the highway and the hills
this day was long, the lifetime trip back
to you
forever
condensed
into a fraction of hope,
by the time I could admit my own failure
my tendency was to cut bait on the problem
which usually meant
being alone
When so many were out on the town drinking
writing sappy poems
about that eternal beach of life
somewhere in an old notebook,
and confessions of my earlier life
when I was such a weasel at times
to so many people,
not being honest
afraid of the blow back
the most mendacious generation.

But I got better.


draft on, crazy typist.

Is it cold in here? 
Is there a draft?
Ya, everything on this website.

  Praise     Praise     Praise
   the        the        the
   Lord       Lord       Lord
  for his    for his    for his
 unfailing  unfailing  unfailing
   love!      love!      love!


the poet won the prize for literature!

  well, nothing more here today.