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Today’s Citizen – www.keysnews.com – finally reports the Goombay upheaval during last Tuesday night’s City Commission meeting, which I finally reported at goodmorningkeywest.com, which you should be able to reach by clicking on this link, Goombay – Key West’s Bahamian/Caribbean African roots festival hits rough seas this past Tuesday night , if you did not see my report yet. Today’s Citizen’s report covers the surface skirmish pretty well, but I leave for you to open the Citizen link and pay to read it, if you are not already a subscriber. I can read every other Keys newspaper online for free, and the Miami Herald and other mainland newspapers. And, I have a lot else on my plate today.
On the Charles Eimers happy Thanksgiving Day on Key West’s South Beach, I sent this to
Key West the Newspaper – www.thebluepaper.com – co-publisher Naja Girard yesterday:
An Anglo Georgia amiga. who once was married to a Mexican man, listened to the bystander’s video today. She said it sounds like the Spanish woman in the video is saying something like, “God, why so many police?” I wondered that too: Why so many police? Maybe the angels were hoping one cop might tell what really happened, and many cops were needed to produce that one honest cop? Sort of facetious, but I wouldn’t put it past the angels. And, I wonder, if so many cops, how come none of them rushed to Eimers’ aid? If bystanders saw Eimers was in trouble, the bystanding police saw it too.
Todd German called this morning,
he’s a US combat veteran (Central America), to say he had talked with the local VA and they told him only about 2 percent of local homelss men are US military vets. I reported in yesterday’s delayed Independence Day beauty pageants in Key West and USA post having received a forward from Father Steve Braddock saying 25 percent of homeless men are veterans. I told Todd I was glad to hear the numer is a lot lower. He said the VA told him they do outreach, search for vets in the mangroves, offer all sorts of good services for them down here. I said I had heard this VA down here does that.
I told Todd that I’ve been getting really roughed up inside for some time, and although I have kept most of that out of my writings, it has left me not feeling happy about things. I said the angels lifted it off of me yesteday, because I was the featured poet at last night’s Key West Poetry Guild 1st Sunday of the month reading. Once again, I said, the angels proved they can lift that horrible load off of me whenever they want to do it, but otherwise, they have me not happy about it. Todd asked how the poetry reading went? I said I will cover it in today’s post. He said he looked forward to reading it. I wondered :-).
The Guild meeting started off with typical angel humor – why was I not surprised? :-), since I was this month’s featured poet.
The Guild poet, who usually comes early in the afternoon to put out the poetry reading sign in front of Blue Heaven, had been out of town and only arrived back in Key West by air a little before the reading. Another Guild poet and coordinator decided watching the Wimbledon men’s tennis finals was more important and left a note to that effect in the upstairs room where poetry readings occur. Blue Heaven staff thought, since the poetry reading sign was not out, the note meant the poetry reading had been cancelled.
When I got there a about 6:45, a waitress I know told me the reading was cancelled, but a couple of people were upstairs. I went upstairs and saw the note. I went back downstairs and told several Blue Heaven staff the reading was on. I then was told several people had already come and left because they were told there would be no reading. I again said the reading was on, it was a mistake not of Blue Heaven’s doing, please don’t turn anyone else away.
About half hour before, I had told the angels I didn’t figure many people would be there – I bet they laughed. Maybe a dozen people did show up, which maybe was the people who were supposed to be there. What do I know? Angels are crazy by human standards.
The past couple of poetry guild meetings, the featured poet got to go first. That was deviated last night, almost, until the poet who had just gotten back into town said what the new practice was, so I got to go first after all. There was no ravishing introduction, as usually happens with featured poets, so I introduced myself, saying I was born and raised in Birmingham, Alabama, and used to be an ordinary person, but today am a mystic and a visionary, other labels could be used, and the poetry I will share reflects that. And, I am fluent in three languages: Birmingham English, Redneck and Dialect, en sumtimes I mixes dem ups. Some laughter.
I said, earlier this afternoon, in a nap dream, I was shown where to begin, so I go back almost 20 years to early 1995, when I lived in Boulder, Colorado, which is just as weird as Key West, and before that I had lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico, which is just as weird, but those two places are different weird from Key West. Laughter in the audience.
It was cold, I was sitting in a chair in my bedroom with my writing journal and something seized my hand and wrote, “Go to Big Pine Key, go ASAP, this is important.” I fooled around a couple of days, and that night I slipped on black ice on a road near my home and my feet went straight up and I landed on my head and was half unconscious on my back in the middle of the road, but no car came and finally I got up and walked home and my wife asked me if I had bought the airplane ticket to Miami yet, and I said no, but would the next day. Delta had a ticket office in Boulder, and I bought the ticket the next morning and left for Miami the following day, and all of this story is a poem, by the way.
I rented a car at the Miami airport and drove down to Big Pine and started hanging out, wondering what I was doing there? I hung out several days and nothing happened. I went out to No Name Key Bridge a few times, and went back out there on the 7th day of the trip.
At Old Wooden Bridge Fish Camp, I met a younger couple who said they had lived on Key Largo a while, but it had gotten too developed and they had moved to Big Pine, which was Mother Nature’s last stand in the Keys; and they were actively trying to keep it that way. i said I knew a ritual I could teach them, which might help them with their cause. The man look at me like I had grown horns out of the top of my head, or was daff, but the woman seemed interested until the man grabbed her into their fishing skiff and they left the marina and I saw them go under the bridge and into the back country as I reached the bridge and there were pelicans everywhere in the air over the couple and their boat and over that part of the bridge.
I walked on out to the middle of the bridge and turned and faced the Atlantic Ocean and was grabbed by something HUGE and felt like my heart was pulled out of my body, I burst into heaving sobs, snot boiled out of my nose, I hung onto the bridge for dear life, surrounded by pelicans on the bridge railing, in the air above me and down in the water below me, when I heard spoken into my mind, “Because you love this place so much, you will be used to try to protect it.”
I said, the only other time I had been on Big Pine was when I was in law school, I had caught a big tarpon near the old wooden bridge remains, after it had burned, the posts and cross ties were still showing above the water. That night, after the pelican event on the bridge, this poem fell out of me:
Behold, the pelican!
Slow, ugly clumsy afoot,
But in the air
a great fisher indeed!
And in times of want
plucks out its own breast meat
to feed its young.
I said, in the Holy Grail tradition, not the childish thing reported in The da Vinci Code, but something very real, the pelican is the Christ bird and Grail initiates feel really good about seeing a pelican in a dream. When the Keynoter came out two days later, the 9th day of the trip, there was an article saying a moratorium had been imposed on residential construction on Big Pine, and the US Department of the Interior, the US Environmental Protection Agency and the US Attorney had ruled US 1 would not be widened to allow for faster hurricane evacuation from the Keys, because the real reason for widening US 1 was to allow more development in the Keys. I forgot to say last night, in my spirit code, 7 is the mark of God on an event, and 9 is the number for completion. I left for Boulder the next day.
I said, it was in Boulder that poetry started flowing out of me. I did not sit down to write it, I was sat down and it came out of me. There was a stretch in early 1993, which I will highlight tonight.
I was attending a Sunday gathering of people, all of whom were lost and seeking, it was not a church but was a spiritual gathering. At the end of one Sunday gathering, a fellow I had not seen there before, but he seemed to be one of the people in charge by the way he went about it, came forward and told us to all close our eyes and ask what we could best do to serve God? I closed my eyes, asked the question, and into my inner vision came a beautiful white quill writing pen; I felt what seemed like the brush of angels wings on my back, I nearly burst into tears, and got up and left and went home.
That night, sitting in the same chair I would sit two years later and be told to go to Big Pine Key as soon as possible, looking out the window at the big black willow tree covered with snow, something seized me and I started writing, one word at a time, bawling, snot running of my nose, for several weeks I was in a rapture.
I had been shown which verse to start the white quill pen stretch with last night, but I spaced it out when I told the Guild, here is one verse that came to me, one word at a time, through lots of tears and snot.
Although he sometimes tries to write fiction, when the tale is told, every character is a character in himself, every plot a story in him; there are no surprises, only his to discover parts of himself he has forgotten, lost, thrown away, or never even knew were there. Perhaps in this way he and God are something alike; they both create to discover just who and what they really are.
I recited that and the following verses, from memory; they were, are, blazed into my soul – I read nothing last night.
The next verse was:
He is the paper, the ink his blood, the pen his soul, and the poet is God.
And the related verse coming with tears and snot right after it:
He is but a crooked hose through which living water flows, first to straighten him out, then to water a few other birds of the air and some lilies of the field.
And this verse:
Bride of Christ
there are no rainbows
and God is dead.
And the sequel verse, which came a little later:
the sacred prism
through which souls are refracted
into their elemental parts,
purified in Holy Fire,
and sent on their way
to not even God knows where,
simply because they are all
unique emanations of God,
And this verse:
He feels deep beauty in the dark pool from which his writings flow; she clings to him like fine silk, precious oil; she feels solid, compressed … like a black pearl growing ever larger from inside out with each stroke of his pen, pushing her precious waters over her banks into his dreams and life.
I paused, said, by then I was getting all sorts of information in dreams. The spirit world was opened to me. I went nowhere, it all came to me. I was living on this world and in the other realms at the same time. I was dealing with spirit beings and with human beings, and I could see through human beings and human events to what was behind them.
I said, I was not always that way, I used to be ordinary. I was taken far beyond the Bible, into something very different; people who do not have these experiences only have the Bible to rely on. Or other Scriptures.
I looked at Monica Geers, said, she knows this about me; she is a professional psychic, reads on Mallory Pier. She remembers discussions we had about something, and then I told her something else was coming in, and it went somewhere entirely different. Monica nodded.
I said, another white quill pen verse, which came in early March 1993, really got things to jumping, a verse I have recited many times at Guild meetings.
Only fools rush in
where angels fear to tread,
but if their were no fools,
Who’d lead the angels?
I said, I figured the verse was bout Jesus, he was like that in the Gospels. Right away after that verse came, I felt something HUGE trying to wiggle into me; it was of spirit. It put me into a even bigger rapture, and went on for three weeks, it was a really tight fit.
I took a 4-mile walk each morning, and it was early April, a nice day. When I reached the half-way point and turned back toward home, I felt the angels all around me. I always knew they were around me, but I didn’t feel them all the time. I heard, “This thing coming into you is your angel twin, all human beings have an angel twin and yours is coming into you to live out this life with you.” I thought, “Neat”. Then I heard, “By the way, this is your son.” I nearly fell down, my son had died of sudden infant death syndrome my senior year in law school.
I said, I lived with that view for quite a long time. But about two years ago, I saw it differently. I saw son as Jesus. Maybe my son did come into me; there are two of them living in me. They see what all is going on, and I don’t have a clue. Laughter in the audience.
I said, even back then, I was having experiences with a son.
For example, in late summer 1994, in Boulder, I dreamed of a huge gnarly back storm headed toward me, and of then seeing a giant blacksmith. Later that day, a poem burst out of me, this is only a fragment, which I remember; the poem was longer.
I am the blacksmith, this storm is my forge; you are my carbon gemsteel I hammer into my blackdiamond lasersword to cut lightning and thunder into gold and silver. and to slice hail and sleet into diamonds and rainbows.
I said, in the fall of 1995, at Ananpurna Base Camp way up in the Nepal Himalaya, the blacksmith, huge, appeared to me in front of a 28,000 foot tall rim of mountains lit up by the morning sunrise. I heard, “The son and I are one; The son and I are one.” Like any good Grail night, I went down to one knee. The preceding April, this verse had come:
Angels walk beside you
and call you their brother,
even as you curse the heavens
for making you one who wields the lightning.
Be kind to your brothers and sisters,
But take no prisoners –
Kill them all in my name
as I have killed you,
So you, and they,
I knew the voice was Jesus, the blacksmith.
I said, the first poem to come to me in Boulder, I did not commit to memory, but the second one I did and have recited many times at Poetry Guild readings. It came in 1992, before the white quill pen. I knew it was a template for my life to come, since I was raised by capitalists.
I happened upon a mocking bird
singing its fool head off.
I asked it how and why it sang,
But all it did was look ahead,
All it did was sing.
It never turned to see if I was watching,
Or listened for money jingling in my pockets,
Or asked if I liked its music,
Or expected a recording contract –
It was too busy singing
to pay any attention to me.
I knew the mockingbird was Jesus, he was like that in the Gospels.
I said, there is one other poem from the white quill pen stretch, which I often have recited at Poetry Guild meetings:
Who invented the rule that poetry must rhyme, have pentameter, be cast into verse? Yes, please tell me who invented that silly rule? Shorely it warn’t de maka ob de furst stone – udderwize der’d be no stones to brake all dem slaving’ rules!
I said, after all that came through me, I figured I had arrived. I had only just begun. The foundation laid, the real work began. Arrrrrgggghhhhh!
Thinking I was done with poems, I said, since my bio as featured poet had included I am an artist, I brought about 20 drawings which might not be okay for small children, although I would have shared them with my daughters when they were five. I learned back in 2009, when I ran for mayor and tried to get Key West to get itself a nude beach, that it had a Puritan streak in it 4 miles long and 2 miles wide. I was astounded to learn that about Key West. Connie Gilbert, who presided over the poetry reading, said she hopes I will push for a nude beach this year. Laughter.
After all the poets had a chance to recite, dang good poetry, any of them could have been the featured poet, Connie asked if anyone wanted to do a second round? A hand raised. I said I had one more poem, which I had spaced out. So we started a second round. I went first, at Connie’s invitation.
I said, actually, this was the first poem I had been shown to use after the pelican poem and how it came about.
The boy’s father didn’t know why his son loved to fish, but his mother knew he would die if he didn’t fish, so she arranged for men to take him fishing, and when there were no men, she took him to a lake with his tackle, a sack lunch and soda pops, and when she came back in the evening, he had a catch, or not, and was happy simply because he had gotten to fish. His mother wanted him to be a priest, but she did not know priests catch souls for the church, and fisherman catch souls for God. She did not know the fish were God … (at that point, and even as I wrote it just now, I choked up and had to pause and take a breath …) and the lake was their church, and when they had taught the boy to fish, they would send him forth to be a fisher of men. The boy’s father was a golfer, he only beat his father once, when he cheated (… laughter in the audience …) He liked fishing better, just him and the fish, one on one, and there was no way to cheat.
Amens in the audience.
Connie said there is no featured poet scheduled for next month; it will return to lightning rounds, which was how it used to be and how I preferred it, although I had to admit I was glad I got to stitch all that together last night, after it had fermented in me for about two weeks. The one big surprise for me was not knowing until the nap dream yesterday afternoon that the pelicans on No Name Key Bridge would kick it all off.
No one seemed interested in seeing the drawings, which themselves are poems. I featured them in several posts this year, and even last year, and sometimes use one or two in a post. One kicks off today’s. And two more then chime in.
Back to the salt mine.
In yesterday’s delayed Independence Day beauty pageants in Key West and USA post at goodmorningkeywest.com I reported a conservatives beat up on liberals Facebook thread which became contentious after I entered the conversation. It became even more contentious yesterday afternoon, when a fellow named Homer said I had lied about not supporting and voting for Barack Obama.
Below is the entire thread, what I published yesterday morning, and what then happened later yesterday. It’s an example of the kind of fishing I sometimes do when the angels decide they aren’t having enough fun watching me suffer in Key West and Florida Keys politics. This thread reflects the several of the verses I recited last night.
Sloan Bashinsky Because of Vietnam draft dodger G.W. Bush and his gang this ass bag you despise got elected in 2008, and again in 2012. Yeah, what a kidder – weapons of mass destruction. The wars Bush and his gang started in Iraq and Afghanistan were not worth one American casualty or death or battleshocked veteran, nor worth same to other sides, nor to civilians in those countries. Obama was supposed to end all of that immediately upon taking office in 2008. He didn’t and became a scumbag.
Sloan Bashinsky Chuck, did you delete my last comment [I put it in italics for this post] about the Vietnam draft dodger ass bag Bush who, along with his gang of ass bags, were the reason Obama got elected in 2008 and again in 2012? [I had saved my last comment before I noticed it had gone AWOE (absent without explanation)]
Sloan Bashinsky Agreed on McCain. Agreed on Obama. Don’t agree on G.W. Bush. McCain learned nothing from Vietnam, nor from the Soviets’ experience in Afghanistan. Nor did most Democrats, John Kerry, for example, who came home and protested Vietnam. Then, he tried to out hawk G.W. Bush, the draft dodger, and the Swift Boats for Bush sunk Kerry’s swift boat. Looks to me conservatives only like people who think, who agree with them. I have had identical conversations, by the way, with Democrats about Obama. I only have one friend who backed Obama in 2008, who now views him as an ass bag. You folks would prefer Sarah Palin? I’m sure the Democrats are salivating for Hillary. I hate what all of them did to American troops in those two stupid ruinous wars. Ain’t how its going in Iraq today and in Afghanistan today enough proof of just how dumb Bush and his ass bag gang, and the successor ass bag gang were/are? Or was it dumb like foxes. How much trillions do you figure the US Military Industrial Complex and American oil, chemical and pharmaceutical companies made on those two wars. How many of the ass bags and their children and grandchildren fought in those two wars? How many of their rabid adherents at home went over there and fought? How many rich parents’ kids fought in those two wars. Hello?
Homer McElroy Her we go ,another telephone tough guy. Never mentioned Bush but you obamites always have to go backwards because your messiah is a joke and should have never been put in office. Listen sheeple,I wasn’t talking to you in the first place, I was responding to Chuck but you so called liberals who want someone to take care of you always have to try to jump on anyone who dose’nt like your joke in office. I would be careful about talking crap to people you don’t know also. The web makes wieners into tough guys all the time. I wasn’t talking to you and believe me I never would want to. Have a good day and keep on blaming the past and believing in the lie you put in office.
Sloan Bashinsky Well, heck, Homer, I agree with you, Obama sucks. I told Democrats that in 2008 and in 2012. The reason he was elected was his predecessor sucked, and John McCain sucked. I didn’t vote for president in either of those elections, because there was no candidate I wanted to see in that office. I didn’t vote when Bush ran against Kerry, for the same reason. I been called many things online, but not a weenie. G.W. Bush lowered taxes when he went to war. The rich got richer, the US got poorer. Bush bankrupted the US treasury. Then Obama bankrupted it again. I suggest lining them both up against a wall in front of a firing squad. As I wrote earlier in this thread, I’m an equal opportunity finger pointer.
Sloan Bashinsky I received something from Father Steve Braddock today saying 1/4 of homeless men are American war veterans. In Key West, homeless Vets are treated badly by city police. The local VFW club banned homeless Vets from going in there.[That was the end of the thread reported in yesterday's post at goodmorningkeywest.com.]
Homer McElroy Keep staying in the past. Your messiah is a rookie . 18 trillion in debt. IRS, the nsa gone way past what Bush set it up for,Benghazi. I bet if that was someone you loved you’d say something than. Your only argument is Bush and the war. The terrorist in those planes were trained in the Clinton era. You don’t bring that up. I was inside the pentagon for ten days. I picked up more pieces of dead americans than you could ever imagine . I don’t condone that war . My brother did two tours there in a combat unit. But people like you don’t even care about the way our laws are ignored by this administration,you just keep going backwards and putting the blame on some guy 6 years ago. I’ve only spoken about now and the way this country is being turned into nothing while you keep harping on Bush and Iraq. Well your messiah said al queda was done . He said you can keep your insurance. He suckered you by promising to open up gas,coal,oil. Yeh, keep on believing sheeple. Don’t tell me you did;nt vote for this pinhead. All you got is the blame on Bush. Hey,we can go back to Truman if you want,but I don’t live in the past to try give legitimacy for a mistake I voted for.Please , read all the news and not just Msnbc.. Because you’re sounding like a broken record.And read up on how casualties there have been since Obama has been there. Oh yeah, How about the way PUTIN put his foot in your boy’s ass? Your argument is like dealing with all the other uninformed. You bore me. Put yourself in harms way one day before you talk to me. As you said “you’re just a finger pointer” You must be proud of your life see ya
Sloan Bashinsky Actually, I am in harm’s way every moment of my life, but I don’t know if I could convince you of that. I’m an exorcist priest, Order Melchizedek, ordained by Jesus and Archangel Michael and Melchizedek, who trained me. The training was terrible-squared. The work is terrible-squared. I was told in my sleep before Obama gained the Democratic nomination that he had the potential to be the Anti-Christ. I told a lot of Democrats about that, and they responded as if I was daff. He proved it when he accepted the Nobel Peace Prize while still waging G.W. Bush’s wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and then the lovely drone wars. I didn’t shit for a month after that scum bag accepted the Nobel Prize. What cleared that up was horrible poetry, which burst out of me, which I spewed into a Key West Poetry Guild monthly meeting, and then into a Key West Poetry Guild poetry in a park weekend. Three nights before 9/11, I was asked in my sleep by the same voice, “Will you make a prayer for a Divine Intervention for all of humanity? I awoke, startled, made the prayer. On 9/11, I knew why. I also knew 9/11 was bait, a trap, and an American retaliatory war was the worst possible scenario, which proved true in spades. You cannot ingore what set up where America is today, which destroyed what was left of its already fractured soul caused by the Vietnam war. I would love to see Obama just disappear. And I would love to see the Republican and Tea and Democratic and Libertarian parties just disappear. And, I would love to see other religions just disappear – all of them. Tell you another story. In early 1999, when I was getting beaten up terribly inside by the changes I was undergoing, I was put into a trance. I was then taken into the heart of Islam. It was terrible. There was no life there. I then was taken into the heart of Communist China. It was terrible, felt the same as Islam. Then, I was taken into the core of the Pentagon. It was the same as Islam and China. Looks to me, America’s karma is so huge and so terrible, there is no redemption. Obama is part of the karma. Bush was part of the karma. The way American veterans are treated is horrible. Bengazi was a pimple on an electron compared to the elephant that is America’s foreign policy. USA should not even been in Libya. Right after 9/11, my controllers, that’s right, I’m an agent, but not run by the CIA or NSA, told me America needs to pull out of the Middle East altogether and stop supporting Israel and let that county work it out or fight it out with Islam, and in that way find out if Israel is God’s chosen people. No way is America one nation, under God, the way it behaves. My controllers told me during that horrible time in 2009 that the training I was enduring was worse than Navy SEAL training, but internally, in my body and in the spirit. The Evil behind and in everything I am given to engage is HUGE. My life and my soul are at risk in every assignment. But for my controllers’ constant directives and corrections when I stray, I would be dead, insane, or taken over by Lucifer. I live in constant dread of that outcome. And I live on constant terror of crossing my controllers, who have demonstrated many times to me that they can do anything they wish with me, whenever they choose to do it. It was not me who invited me into this conversation. It was Chuck Satterfield who knows before just recently where I stand generally on what he posted on Facebook yesterday. Chuck can defriend me, and he won’t ever hear from me again. But he invited me into this discussion, and I figure it was arranged by higher powers, as that’s how my life is. The news is never all there is to something, when it is reported. You surely know that. Something the American conservatives could do, I say the conservatives, because that’s who created the attack on the liberals on which Chuck seized, is get down on their knees and confess to their God, if they have one, some may not, most do, that they are as much a part of why America is so screwed up now as the liberals are. The American liberals need to do the same thing. Both sides need to admit to their God that they con’t have a clue what needs to be done. Both sides need to ask for a Divine Intervention for America – USA. They can make the prayer in Jesus’ name, or not – it doesn’t matter, to be blunt. Jesus prayed directly to God, so can anyone else, even Muslims. The problem with such a prayer, however, is there is no telling what kind of reply might come back, if a reply comes back. There is no telling what form it will take, whose ox will feel gored, if the Intervention comes. It may not come. It may be that the Intervention already is here. America is in its death throes, and that is God’s will, and all left is for that playing out in whatever bizarre unpleasant ways it needs to play out. For sure, nothing will change by putting on Facebook what Chuck put there. Liberals won’t receive it, and that leaves conservatives preaching to their own choir, and reinforcing their belief they are right, when they are just as much the cause of America’s woes as are the liberals. Two different religions, actually – the conservatives and the liberals, each convinced they know what’s best and the other doesn’t. Did you forget that G.W. Bush said he had stopped pursuing Osama bin Laden? Obama did not forget bin Laden. He kept after him. Very simply, bin Laden danced a jig when Bush attacked Iraq, and then Afghanistan. That was the best possible result for bin Laden of 9/11, which many Americans even today, I am not one, believe Bush and his ass gang and the CIA orchestrated. Bin Laden defeated America long before he was killed. Bin Laden defeated America when Bush invaded Iraq, and then Afghanistan. Then, stupidly, Obama attacked Libya. Then came Bengazi. From the grave, bin Laden is still winning. You see it, it’s in plain view. The Republicans were gored by the birth of the Tea Party. The Tea Party scares the hell out of lots of Americans, who might vote Republican, if it were not for the power the Tea Party has over the Republican Party. If I were King of USA, I would make belonging to a political party a capital offense. It may very well be that a King is USA’s only hope of being turned around. But is there anyone in America qualified to be that King? Perhaps not. Certainly not any Obama or Hillary Clinton or any Republican or Tea Party leaders. Not Ron Paul. Not Newt Gingrich. Not Donald Trump. Not any US political leader I have heard of.
Sloan Bashinsky Is this the third time I say I agree, Obama sucks? Sheeple pretty well describes political parties; inbred-thinking. I never once prevailed in an argument with religious fanatics, conservative or liberal, because facts and reason mean nothing to them. Blinded by their prejudices and beliefs, they live in their own little separate worlds, which exist only in their own little minds.
I didn’t have to major in Economics at Vanderbilt to know when USA spends almost half its annual budget on armaments and troops and retired troops and making wars it ought dang well not be making, that puts a serious crimp in spending money on crying domestic needs inside America’s own borders. A King, indeed – Jesus – probably could fix that, but then, last time he tried to fix something, it didn’t turn out so good.
Meanwhile, back down here where the weird are said to turn pro,
I didn’t have to major in Economics at Vanderbilt to know what a nude beach will do for Key West’s economy. I learned what a nude beach can do from clothing-optional Haulover Beach just above Miami.
Here’s where Key West’s Haulover ought to be, the upper seldom used part of Smathers Beach.
There ain’t no fig leaves in Paradise, nor any secrets.
Political advertisement paid for and approved by Sloan Bashinsky, for Mayor of Key West, aka “southernmost the nut house”