A STAR TREK Parody – Trump Mind Meld  

Catain’s Blog Stardate June 7, 2021. I’ve added this prequel to the TRUMP’S FEVER DREAM to the menu as bonus readind. New Old School Audio to come.
One of the main things I love about Gene Roddenberry timeless Star Trek is its view of Utopian future where greed and racism no longer rule humanity. Trek and all it’s predecessors were not afraid to take on big social issues of their time.
It’s in that tradition I’ve written A STAR TREK PARODY – TRUMP MIND MELD.
Enjoy, share and “live long and prosper.” – Ken Sheetz

warning abort mind meld blank

The USS Enterprise glides through the stars, passing a huge asteroid. We hear the familiar voice of Captain Kirk.

“Captain’s Log, stardate 2264.2. The Enterprise is accelerating to time travel warp speed on a journey to the eve of World War III. All in the hopes of altering the timeline and averting the loss of billions of human lives.”

We join Kirk in his cabin, feet propped up on his desk, dictating to the ship’s computer.

“What the outcome of such a drastic timeline shift will be for our own time, the 23rd Century, is anyone’s  –”

A knock on the cabin door stops Kirk’s log dictation. Annoyed, he says, “Enter.”

A troubled Spock steps through the pneumatic doorway. A fidgety Dr. McCoy right behind him.

Before McCoy can speak Kirk cuts him off, “Save it, Bones. Spock and I are dead set on this mission to 21st century America and that’s all there is to it.”

“Damnit, Jim! As ship’s doctor I hereby file my formal complaint you’re ignoring grave dangers to Spock’s sanity when he melds with Trump the Mad Dictator.”

“Captain, I assure you I am quite ready for this mind meld,” Spock says.

“Spock, you’re a bigger idiot than Trump if you can’t see the man has to have a mind to perform a mind meld!”

“Gentlemen, must I call security to escort you back to your quarters?” says Kirk, hiding a smile.

“No need, Captain. The doctor is just being his normal illogical and most annoying self,” Spock says.

“Bones, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the… Trump?” say Kirk, making a lame joke no one laughs at.

McCoy throws up his hands in disgust.”Well, if you two ‘very stable geniuses’ want to roll the dice on Spock’s sanity and the very existence of Star Fleet, who I am to stop you?!”

Dr. McCoy spins on his heels and exits Kirk’s cabin in a huff.

MESSY MESS HALL

A short time later in the mess hall Kirk pulls a Mac Jr. and french fries from the food replicator and places them before Spock saying, “I present Trump’s favorite food: The Big Mac.”

“Incorrect, Captain.  If I may, what you have placed before me is in fact a Mac Jr.”

Kirk arches an eyebrow and says, “A Mac what?”

“Junior.  Indeed, Captain.  This is a smaller version of Trump’s favorite choice of sustenance – the Grand Mac.  It features a single 1/6 pound patty as opposed to the double 1/10 pound patties featured what you have mistaken as a Big Mac. The Grand Mac offers an astounding two 1/6 pound patties and was in fact believed to be Trump’s Mac of choice. ”

“Spare me the niceties of scale, Spock. Nutritional analysis.”

Spock passes his beeping his tricorder over the Mac Jr.,”Most peculiar, Captain.”

“Elaborate.”

“This Mac Jr. has nearly zero nutritional value, by 23rd century standards of course. Therefore, we can deduce this factor is a zero constant regardless of scale. Worst of all, the Mac is filled with enough grease molecular matter to clog the ship’s drainage system,” says Spock shoving the Mac Jr. away in disgust.

“Sorry.  Eat it, Spock.  If you’re going to mind meld with Trump you must eat as he does.”

“Captain, there must be some other way to alter my vibratory frequency than this, this poison! A person would have to be insane to…”

“Exactly. I swear to you, Spock. Our archeologists say this was Trump’s actual daily diet.  Hey, it could be worse.  Think what you’d be eating if I knew about the Grand Mac.”

Spock takes a nervous bite of the Mac Jr. and his eyes go wide in horror. “Is this real meat, Captain?”

“Sort of,” says Kirk as he sniffs the Big Mac.

“But I am vegetarian, sir, as all Starfleet is”

“Well…Try the French fries, Spock.”

Spock shudders, downing a fry whole without chewing. He coughs.

“You look greener than usual, Mr. Spock,” says Kirk, laughing at his own joke.

Spock cracks a rare smile and says, “Permission to vomit, sir.”

Kirk and Spock laugh about Trumps diet

Spock projectile vomits all over Kirk.

“Permission granted?” says Kirk, his face dripping Big Mac and fries.

“Apologies, sir.  This Mac Jr. of your past is most toxic.”

“Caught me off guard with your rare smile, Spock.”

“Sorry, Captain. On Vulcan a smile often warns of eminent expulsion.”

“OK, this concludes our 21st century dietary experiment,” says Kirk as he wipes vomit from his eyes.

“It’s a wonder Trump survived the Mac assortment where he’s obsessively, ugh, consume all three plus fries and a shake. Shows me not to underestimate President Trump,” says Spock as he helps clean off Kirk.

TIMELINE CLUSTERFUCK

A short time later a cleaned up Kirk is perched in his captain’s chair. The viewing screen on the command deck beeps and boops as the ship buffets through layers of crystalline rainbows.

Kirk spins his command chair to Spock at the science station, “Glad to see you’re not smiling, Mr. Spock. Report.”

Spock, his eyes aglow from a personal view screen. says,”Undoubtedly a convergence point of timelines reaching epic proportions,”

“A clusterfuck of timelines,” says Kirk to Spock’s dazed look. “21st century slang, Mr. Spock.”

“Ah, yes, clusterfuck of timelines. Affirmative, Captain.”

Scotty bellows over the ship’s intercom, causing Kirk to almost spill his coffee, “Timeline turbulence! It be tearin’ our wee ship ta bits, Captain! I canna — ”

“Hold her together, Scotty. Blah, blah, blah,” says Kirk, bored with Scotty’s typical bellyaching.

“Meeting Trump the Mad Dictator already got you off your game, Jim?” teases Dr. McCoy.

At last the battered Enterprise exits a red-colored rip in space and glides into orbit over the USA.

“The Enterprise has successfully entered 21st century earth-space, Captain.”

“How can you be so sure, Spock?”

“Confirmation from the Twitter-verse. Trump’s virtual realm,” says Spock.

“Please be more precise, Spock.”

“Picking up news chatter on their primitive newscasts that — ”

“Correction ‘fake news’, Spock.  Speak Trumpese.”

“Duly noted, Captain. The precise time is January 11th 2018 at 11:11 PM Eastern Clusterfuck time,” says Spock.

“Ah. Three months before Trump’s preemptive nuclear strike on North Korea. Excellent work, Spock,” says Kirk. “You get a raise.”

Spock reacts in puzzlement, “A raise? To where?”

“Um, when we reach Trump you best leave the talking to me,” says Kirk with proud smirk.

“With pleasure, sir.”

Chekov pipes in, “Captain Kirk, vith all due respect, sir.  Vee Vould have much better chance of success approaching the Russian who runs Trump… Putin.”

“We’ve been over the timeline computations a thousand times, Mr. Chekov. Trump has a far more suggestive mind for melding than Putin’s.”

“On that we can agree,” says McCoy.

Sulu palms his forehead, “But, sirs. Historical records report Trump’s acting like a fool was just that, an act! Truth is Trump is a mental giant who will crush — Uh, sorry Mr. Spock.  No offense intended.”

“Clusterfuck you, Mr. Sulu,” says Spock.  Kirk rolls his eye in disgust.

“History shows Trump was, ‘like, wherry smart’,” adds Chekov in his thick Russian.

“‘A very stable genius!'”says Sulu, spinning from the navigation consel.

Bones goes refaced and says, “Keep your damn eyes on the screen, Sulu! You and Chekov have been hoodwinked by 200 years of propoganda and myth surrounding Trump the so-called Great. Ha. Great fat ass, is more like it!”

“Who can blame them, Doctor? History is always written by the clusterfucking victors,” offers Spock, proudly eying Kirk who looks down in to his coffee to avoid Spock’s eye contact.

“Bones’ son, a highly skilled timeline archeologist, has determined the so-called genius Trump the Great was in fact barley literate and a, um…” says Kirk trailing off.

“Moron?” says McCoy with grin as he catches up to Kirk and Spock heading for the ship’s turbolift.

“I was going to say “fucking moron’, like his Secretary of State Tillerson called him,” says Kirk.

“Do you not meaning clusterfucking moron, Captain.”

“You’re overdoing it with the cluster thing, Spock. Fucking is sufficient.”

“Sounds like you could give my son a run for the money on timeline trivia, Jim.” says McCoy as they reach the turbolift.

“Sorry, Bones. Need you to stay aboard in command in case anything happens to me and Spock,” says Kirk as he tugs his top off to prep for a quick costume change.

“Damnit, Jim. I’m a doctor. Not nursemaid to a presidential idiot. So I am sending Nurse Oberon in my place. She’s waiting for you in the transporter room. And, Jim, You and Trump are more alike than you know, keep it in your pants for a change,” says McCoy as the elevator door to the turbolift closes on Kirk’s annoyed face.

BEAM ME TO HELL, SCOTTY

Spock and Kirk enter the teleporter room. Scotty, so busy flirting with the gorgeous Nurse Oberon, a voluptuous green-skinned Orion, that he misses the entrance of the Captain; dressed as Men in Black FBI. Spock’s disguise is a 21st century Trump fan, hilariously complete down to his pot belly and red MAGA hat.

“Captain on deck!” says Spock, annoyed at Scotty.

Scotty and Nurse Oberon snap to attention. “Captain, Mr. Spock, may I present Nurse Oberon. She’s fluent in 21st century American.”

“And why is that, Nurse Oberon?’ says Kirk as he takes her slender green hand and shakes it a bit too long.

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“I’m one quarter human. My grandmother was abducted from a Trump rally by the Orions for psychological study shortly after the completion of the wall,” says Nurse Oberon, her siren voice naturally heart-melting.

“Ah yes, the famed wall with Mexico. One of Trump’s few campaign promises he kept resulting in his reelection in 2020,” notes Spock, oblivious to Nurse Oberon’s charms.

“Not quite, Mr. Spock. It was Trump’s second wall project, the one with Canada in 2022 where my Grandmother was taken,” coos Nurse Oberbon, stunned she has no effect on the Vulcan.

“What precise phycological condition were the Orions seeking to understand in examining your grandmother?” says Spock dryly.

“Granny never wavered in her faith in Trump, despite his single handily triggering Word War III, the abolishment of the FBI, the end of a free press, the Great Depression of 2020, and over 100,000 fact checked lies he told while in office,” says Nurse Oberon.

“An impressive record of Trump’s laying waste to earth, but that still does not answer my question about why the Orions were interested in your grandmother,” says Spock challengeningly.

“You see, the Orions sought to understand Trump’s hold on my granny and thereby core Trump supporters who never wavered backing Trump even as all of America’s major cities were turned to cinders, ” coos Nurse Oberon reaching, takubg iand stroking Spock’s Vulcan ears, “Oh, I can already see have to be very sharp with you, Mr. Sexy Ears,”

“Save it, Nurse Oberon. Spock is immune to your considerable charms,” says Kirk.

“Captain, may I have a word with you in private?” says Spock.

“By all means,” says Kirk, amused Nurse Oberon has shaken up the Vulcan.

Kirk and Spock step into the hallway as Nurse Oberon finishes applying flesh colored makeup to hide her green skin and pulls a frumpy dress over her Star Fleet uniform.

“Captain, I most uncomfortable about Nurse Oberon’s selection for this away team.”

“I see that, Spock,” jokes Kirk.

“Jim, please take me seriously. Given the nurse’s ancestry she is highly susceptible to the charms of Donald J. Trump,” says Spock.

“My gut tells me she’ll do just fine. Let’s go. Trump only sleeps 4 hours a night,” says Kirk, leading a reluctant Spock back into the teleporter room.

Spock steps onto the teleporter pad beside Nurse Oberon’s and the Captain’s pads.

Nurse Oberon complains, “Why must my silly old outfit be so dreadfully dull? Aren’t my assets an asset for handling Trump?”

“Aye. Blame me, lass. The mission is too important to allow distractions for the Captain,” jokes Scotty with a wink to the Captain.

The Vulcan examines his red Make America Great Again hat, “If we succeed, Captain. Perhaps America shall in fact be great again.”

“It’s all comes down to you, Spock. You must plant the fear within Trump’s warped mind that a war with North Korea ends in his impeachment for abuse of war powers.”

“Captain, I find it deeply disturbing that your ancestors saw fit to entrust your president, a single human, and in this case a highly unstable one, with the power to press a button and start a thermal nuclear war,” observes Spock.

Kirk shrugs flirtatiously to Nurse Oberon and says to Scotty, “Energize.”

Once the trio de-materealize Scotty pulls out a Grand Mac and takes a huge bite. He rolls his eyes in ecstasy.

“Damnit, Scotty.  Those things can kill a horse,” says bones from the view screen.

“Aye, Doctor. But this horsey will die happy!”

TRUMP MIND MELD 

Kirk, Spock and Nurse Oberon silently materialize in a dark corner of Trump’s bedroom.

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Art from the “failing according to Trump” NY Times

The trios eyes go wide watching Trump stuff his face with a Grand Mac, all at once. Still, the president furiously tweets,“Wolff’s book is just more fake…..”

Kirk whispers, “Fire –“.

Nurse Oberon stuns Trump mid tweet and he slumps to the bed, doing a face plant.

“Why did you stun Trump, Nurse Oberon?”

“You did say ‘fire’, Jim,” says Spock.

“I was commenting that the book FIRE AND FURY that he’s so angry about.”

“Oopsie,” says Nurse Oberon.

“It seems we are most cluster-fucked, Captain,” groans Spock.

“Fucked is sufficient, Spock. Wish Trump had finished his tweet before Nurse Oberon stunned him.” says Kirk.

“Not to worry, Captain. Trump was known to tweet erratically, sometimes not continuing a tweet for up to several hours. And of course there was the famed Covfefe tweet.”

Nurse Oberon struggles to get the president onto his back and says, “The prez weighs a ton! He needs air! Help me turn him!”

“239 pounds my ass!” grunts Kirk helping turn Trump.

It takes all three of the away team to flip Trump onto his back. At which point he begins to choke on his Grand Mac.

“Help him, Spock!”

“Captain, if I may be so bold. Might not our mission be better completed if we do nothing?”

“No one would doubt death by Big Mac,” says Nurse Oberon.

“Correction, Nurse Oberon.  Grand Mac. You McDonalds USA –”

“Spock. Knock off the tri-Mac story,” grunts Kirk.

“Are you two always like this on away missions?” giggles Nurse Oberon.

Trump gags, eyes rolling into his orange face.

“Nurse, you do realize you are addressing two senior officers?” says Spock testily.

“Wait! I get it!” giggles Nurse Oberon.

“The only get I want to hear is let’s get on with this mission,” grumps Kirk.

“Don’t you see it, Captain?  Spock is Gay for you!” shouts Nurse Oberon before Spock muffles her wild laugh with his free hand.

“I warned you of this Captain.  Nurse Oberon is already subconsciously working to, ahem, rescue Trump, says Spock. “I estimate if we let him go on choking Trump will expire in 60 seconds.”

“Too big a hole in the timeline to let Trump meet his maker with Mac attack,” says Kirk, watching Trump turning blue.

“Very well then, ” say Spock as he yanks Trump into the Heimlich maneuver. Trump coughs his Grand Mac into Kirk’s face and gasps for air.

“The Mac of any scale is indeed your nemesis, Captain.”

“Stop stalling. Mind meld time, Mr. Spock.”

The door handle jangles. Kirk points to Nurse Oberon, “You’re on!”

Nurse Oberon pulls off her dress and climbs naked atop Trump just as Don Jr. enters.

“Kinky, Pops!  Love the green body paint, babe!  I leave you two love birds it!” says Don Jr. making a quick exit.

“Now, Spock, before First Lady Melania shows up!” says Kirk.

“My computations show there is only a one in 10,056.75 percent chance of that happening, sir. The two divorced just a few –”

Nurse Oberon and Kirk groan in unison, “Spock.”

“Sorry. I shall begin then. Silence please. I wish to return from this meld with all my marbles I believe is the 21st century slang for –”

“SPOCK!” shout Kirk and Nurse Oberon in unison.

Spock places his fingers over Trump’s head. “Sir!  It’s real!”

“I am sure, Spock.  His mind must be a real sivv of larceny and deceit!”

“No, sir. I’ve not melded yet. His famed fake hair. It’s real!” says Spock roughing up Trump orange hair. “Granted the orange color is not –”

“Spock, are you sure you are up for this mission?” says Nurse Oberon sweetly as she puts her dress back on.

Spock adjust his fingers over Trump’s right temple,”My mind to your –” Spock winces in pain.

“What is it Spock?!” says Kirk.

“Trump… Much… difficulty…never encountered such… an unfocused… mind… Must go deeper…” say Trump and Spock in unison.

Nurse Oberon monitors the condition of both Trump and Spock.  She reports to Kirk, “Pulse rate up by 50% already! Call off the meld or we lose them both.”

Spock and Trump speak as one,”Only focus seems to be… composing Tweets about Bannon the traitor… absolutely no thoughts on… matters of state.”

“Go deeper, Spock.  There must be some way to reach Trump,” says Kirk.

“Pulse rate up 77%!” reports Nurse Oberon.

Tears pour from Trump and Spock as they speak as one,”Daddy… why don’t you love me?”

Inside the foggy mind of Trump, Spock watches as Fred Trump yanks young Donald’s nose to a stack of money. “You see this pile of cash?”

“Um , yeah,” says little Trump.

“Money is all that matters in life. Cash is king, you worthless brat!” shouts Fred Trump. Spock steps behind Fred Trump and does the Vulcan nerve pinch.  Fred Trump falls to floor and little Trump screams.

“Alien! You killed my daddy!” says little Trump.

“He’s fine, young Donald, none of this is real. See I can make myself your age,” says Spock shrinking himself to little Trump’s size.

“Wait. I can read your mind! Cool!  Your name is Spock?” says Young Trump.

“Correct. Our minds are as one, Donnie.” says Spock reassuringly.

“Spock.  Huh.  Crummy name.  I’ll call you Spocko!  My turn to play the daddy game!” says Trump growing to adult size while Spock shrinks to kid-size.

The surroundings morph into Spock’s childhood home on Vulcan. Sarek, Spock’s father passes young Spock who is weeps in a hallway, “Tears? You’re no Vulcan.”

“Hey, big shot. Stop being so mean to my pal Spocko!” says Trump and blows a hole through Sarek with a sizzling phaser beam.  Sarek falls to the floor at young Spock’s feet, a steaming mess.

Young Spock gawks at Donald Trump the hole in his dead father’s chest. A begrudging smile steals of young Spock’s face.

Meanwhile, back in the real world of Trump’s presidential bedroom:

“Pulse rate 150%!” says Nurse Oberon to Kirk’s glare. “Well… it is.”

Kirk whispers in Trump’s ear, “President Trump, history has given you a great responsibility. Billions will die if you continue to escalate –”

Trump and Spock shout in unison at Kirk, “You think I give a flying fuck what happens to the world? I have my fallout shelter all set up with all the champagne and broads a man could ever want! It’s the greatest bomb shelter of all time. And anyone can join me down there for only $10 million a head.”

“What’s $10 million going to be worth when the world’s a nuclear wasteland, Trump?” says Kirk yanking Trump to his face by his silk pajamas.

“A lot!  As the world population shrinks my market share gets even more biggly. I’m gonna live the lux life with the new Trump-acaplyse 24/7 reality show!” say Trump and Spock laughing madly in unison. “Bye bye Alec Baldwin, Stephen Colbert and all the other losers drafting off my fame!  Nuked!”

“Bones was right.. His mammoth narcissistic ego makes doomed this mission from the get-go. Abort the mind mend, Spock!” shouts Kirk directly into Spock’s pointy ear.

No reaction from Trump and Spock, except a snide chuckle from the mind melded pair.

Spock breaks a sweat as he struggles to say, “Can’t fight him, Captain. Trump is accessing… my memory of Star Fleet history.”

Trump/Spock smirks at Kirk, “Cool, lotsa of inventions in this Vulcan skull I’ll take credit for!”

Kirk shakes Spock by the shoulders and shouts in his face,”Fight him, Spock!”

Without warning Spock backhands Kirk and sends him flying into a gold gilded wall.

“Like that for fighting?  Haha! Sorry, Kirk, can’t give you your first officer back. Spocko’s Trump property now!” gloats Trump.

Kirk manages to stumble to his feet and says, “Nurse Oberon. Set Phaser to kill and execute Trump.”

Nurser Oberon obeys the captain and takes aim at Trump.

“Baby, shoot Kirk and you’re my new First Lady,” says Spock and Trump in mind meld unison.

“What can I say I love a good three way?” Nurse Oberon switches her aim to Captain Kirk.

Screaming through the pain Spock miraculously breaks the mind meld and Vulcan nerve pinches the green goddess to dream land.

“Spock, you saved the day!” grins Kirk.

Faster than one could ever imagine for such a fat bastard, Trump picks up the Nurse’s phaser and disintegrates Kirk.

“Jim!” weeps Spock.

“Fuck the smarmy asshole. With the 23rd century tech in your head we have a galaxy to conquer, Spocko!”

“Granny, I see what you saw!” shouts Nurse Oberon as she pulls Trump and Spock into bed.

“Hold on a sec you two,  Gotta grab a Viagra!” Trump paddles off the the bathroom stepping through Kirk’s dust pile.

Unable to wait for Trump, Nurse Spock’s pants down and her eyes go wide. “Mister Spock! You are most certainly not Gay!”

Spock sweeps Nurse Oberon onto his hips and she moans in ecstasy.

Out of sight in the bathroom Trump bellows, tossing tolietries through the doorway in a panic, “Damn you, Melania for hiding my Viagra again! #COCK BLOCKER!”

Spock and Oberson laugh quietly as they make love like it’s the Pon Farr!

OUTTER RIM OF THE GALAXY

“Captain’s Log, stardate 2264.2. The Enterprise is accelerating to time travel speed on a journey to the eve of World War III. All in the hopes of altering the timeline and averting the loss of billions of human lives.”

We join Kirk in his cabin, feet propped up on his desk, dictating to the ship’s computer.

“What the outcome of such a drastic timeline shift for our own time, the 23rd Century, is anyone’s  –”

A knock on the cabin door stops Kirk’s log dictation. Annoyed, he says, “Enter.”

A troubled Spock steps through the pneumatic doorway. A fidgety Dr. McCoy right behind him.

Before McCoy can speak Kirk cuts him off, “Save it, Bones. I’ve decided Spock mind meld should be with Kim Jung-Un instead of Trump,” says Kirk walking to his portal window.

“Well, hallelujah. What on earth made you come to your senses?” says McCoy with a

Kirk is as silent, gazing out the portal.

“Jim?” say Spock, forgetting rank in the confusion.

Kirk points at a massive asteroid with a laser inscription burned into it’s side. Spock and Bones gawk, reading the phaser carved asteroid’s mile high message:

WARNING! ABORT TRUMP MIND MELD! LOVE, SPOCK

warning abort mind meld

End of This Clusterfuck Timeline

Update 3/6/18.: Could Kirk’ & Spock’s second mind meld mission be working?

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

A movie whose message that anger begets more anger is so beautifully expressed it transcends its theme. I was deeply moved by this masterfully told human tragedy that has some hard won laughs at the absurdity of white male privaledge.

5 stars and the likely best actress Oscar wins for Frances McDormand, best supporting for Woody Harrelson and best actor for Sam Rockwell.

Highly recommended THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI as antidote to a Hollywood season filled with Hollywood remakes for dealing with actual human grief and rage and giving us a female hero in Frances’ Mildred willing to stand up to the world of men.

Humanity Seeks to Free Itself From a Conspiracy of Greed

I look back on the last clear mission before my ET Ohom spirit guide lost signal for months, to attend the Trump inauguration. The mission for my love Elizabeth and I was to simply hold a space of love in the crowd of his mostly white backers.

Trump Jobs

I still have no idea why the ET Ohom chose me for this work. You see, I’ve disliked Trump since the 80s for his cheater ways of getting ahead.

Any who, here’s my attempt to integrate a message Ohom gave me today, where my flu delirium helped me reach him across the stars.  I share it to you as poem.  Excuse me if its not my usual positive thing but it’s my way of taking Ohom’s advice to embrace the…

CHAOS

The first inauguration I ever attended

Was over for me before it ended.

Why my ET guide sent me and my love here

Angered me as it felt dangerous and queer.

The first thing that stuck me about the crowd

Kinda small and not that loud.

Was – How white we all look

For this election of a crook.

My love and I locked in the white crowd filled with hate

Watch helpless as white robs power from black this fateful date.

Two white people with a consciences we share a field of love

All the while looking for ships, seeking help from above.

The crowd goes insane with white pride.

And I go dark and angry inside.

My space of love implodes like a collapsing star

A black hole born within white crowd I see as though from afar.

I am a fellow white co-conspirators in the age of greed.

Ignoring the oceans and earth’s fellow creatures in need.

White privilege my lifelong invisible ally.

A white life blessed by abundance since birth.

Whites laugh as the black man hands over the power.

The sky opens in a light shower.

Tears from heaven dating back to slavery.

White power making all other races their knavery.

Atop the dais, black and white man shake hands

As the thrilled white crowd stands

With the white man who tormented the black eight years.

Along with his white peers

Without relent.

Fortunes spent.

To impede hope and change

As the black’s mission was too strange.

Obama greyed and bent

Weary of the fight as president

Takes  his seat as Melania

Helps swear in her mania.

The white crowd cheers!

As their color takes center stage

Fists clenched in white rage

The black ordeal over at last

Free at last!  Free at last!

America’ is a swamp the scoundrel says

As though swamps are not his gator ways

Already taking all the credit for the economy’s surge

He seeks black accomplishments to purge.

Destroying all Obama has done his only urge.

“And now it will be America first!”

As though it’s not already been so.

As if we whites didn’t already know.

Since the white man stole Turtle Island from its true peoples.

Sprinkling their land with our white church steeples.

Killing their buffalo of the prairies

Angering all of earth’s fairies.

I stand honest in cheering crowd and feel the blame.

I feel it now as write about my white shame

Feeling fully white little me raised by a family of bigots

Secretly rejoicing as Trump waves to we happy white idiots.

We white fools who have elected a man incapable of vision.

Who thrives on hate and racial derision.

Who prefers to eat Big Macs

Fearless of heart attacks.

Like the one that just killed my little brother

Who disrespects the mother.

Who treats women like dirt

While ingesting tic tacs to flirt.

A year has passed since his election sought to smother

The America Dream I always idolized.

The only hope I cling to now as I write persisted.

An ET message from a far off world.

“Humanity seeks to free itself

From a conspiracy of greed.

Embrace the chaos.”

And so I try and fail this gloomy November day.

These hard time are like a nail

Holding me earthbound

As the world dissolves around me.

Watching humanity’s fall.

This is what chaos looks like.

Bitterness is what chaos tastes like.

One day the white mans reign will end.

On this we can depend.

Because it cannot be sustained

The ET message of hope in me remained

“Humanity seeks to free itself

From a conspiracy of greed.

Embrace the chaos.”

 

 

Fairy Grateful

Coming up for air on Halloween, from a Monday business horror I gasped at the five voicemails missed from my baby brother in Wisconsin. Worried Bruce was going to tell me my 89 year-old mom had passed, my fingers moved too fast to register on the glass of my smartphone.

When I finally calmed down enough to return Bruce’s call, my sister-in-law Marianne somberly let me know my other brother Fred, recently turned 63, had died of a heat attack the day before. Weird thing I told my love Elizabeth I felt Fred was going to be passing soon because of his dangerous addiction game. So I foolishly thought I was prepared, but the news of losing my Irish twin Fred hit me like a mile long freight train full of lead doing 90.

Marianne handed the phone to Mom. Her voice choked with tears, Mom bitterly wondered, “Losing both my husband of 35 years and Fred within only 4 months of one another, what is that about, Ken?  You’re the one who talks to angels.” Deep in grief and shock myself, I told her I’d need more time to wrestle with that and did my best to comfort my mother her second born son Fred’s pain was over.

Soon as I hung up my false bravado evaporated fast as a Sedona dusting of snow, my client troubles put into somber perspective.

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Fred (left) with me and mom

The only time I’d spoken to Fred in the last four years of a tough love regimen came earlier this year when I was helping my mom cope with her husband’s stroke that put him in a coma from which he’d never awaken.  Mom had asked me to screen her calls from the flock of salesman seeking to sell her everything from stairlifts to funeral services.

I picked up for her saying, “D’Acquisto residence.”

Fred croaked in the gravely voice he gets with abusing, “Hey, Ken. Strange times.”

I icily said, “Sure are,” and quickly handed the phone to mom.

TOUGH LOVE IS TOUGH

Doctors warned all of us in the family gathering bedside in 2013, as Fred lay in an induced coma, that he’d die if he ever drank again. Four years deep into the tough love thing had backfired and I never got to properly say good-bye to a brother who suffered a horrible childhood right beside me.  I am having trouble coping with that. The guilt is enormous.

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Me with Fred during his coma from an ulcer 2013 due to alcohol abuse.

 

Elizabeth, who blessedly came into my life in 2015, escaping LA to live with me here in Sedona, has comforted me as best she could after this final loss of my brother from his long drawn out death, which abuse made this a decades long process. I am not much fun to be around right now. Her patience has been epic and I swear I will not let Fred ruin this relationship from the grave.

Like my Sicilian stepfather Nick, I learned there was also to be no family funeral for Fred. No traditional Irish open casket ceremony. So I welcomed Elizabeth’s idea for us to co-create a private ceremony in Sedona to mourn Fred.

Sadly, and the pattern is all too painfully obvious, Elizabeth had lost a brother to addiction three years ago where there was no funeral. So I insisted we add William, along with my stepfather Nick to the our work of mourning their three tragic deaths.

Elizabeth has explained ritual is something of a lost art in our cold hearted modern life. She and I first created and altar for the three souls with a five day candle burning.  We bought Celtic medallions for Fred and William, who had the curse of the Irish in not handling booze well and for Nick we chose an ancient piece of Hopi pottery to represent his place and an elder in the ritual.

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Grieving Puja Elizabeth and I Created for William, Nick and Fred

A week into the grieving, guided by a book Elizabeth read to me each night at bed by Maldoma Some’, I dove through denial into deep anger fueled by client troubles. Troubles getting worse as I was not coping well and messing things up as my patience I normally have for my eccentric and wonderful client in abundance was crippled by my grief.

WHALE OF A FAIRY TALE

A bright spot in all this grief is I’ve been deeply touched by an amazing outpouring of love and comforting by Facebook friends that’s helped me through this. Never let anyone tell you Facebook friends are fake!

I’ve also been comforted by a certain blue whale I connect to in spirit named Robin Williams in a past life whose become a regular in my life and this blog in THE ROBIN WILLIAMS VISITATONS.  Robin volunteered to help guide Fred to his resting place in the cosmos, all the while making wisecracks like, “I can help Fred as one junkie to another that fucked up his life.”

 

On Saturday I decided to take a badly needed break from client troubles and Fred’s mourning and went to a Bruce Lipton lecture. I was hosting the amazing Kathleen Gildred of Gorgeous Goddess Wear and she had offered me one her vendor passes at the Create Your Life Conference she was part selling her cool stuff at.  How could I say no?

What a genius Lipton is!  And so funny.  I wondered — as Bruce made so much clear to us all of the science of love and it’s influence on good health — guiltily about how I knew in my heart Fred would be dying weeks before Mom was frantically trying to reach me while I was lost trying to save my biggest account. Knew it cold.

I regretted amid the conference that I didn’t break my tough love regimen and call Fred Lee Sheetz at least say good bye. It sucks to be psychic sometimes. I brought my overactive mind back to present, laughing at a slide Bruce showed that demonstrated why politicians have no brains.

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Bruce Lipton at the Create Your Life Conference in Sedona

After Lipton’s pessimistic but paradoxically optimistic look at the extinction of all life on earth if we don’t get our asses in gear and shift our collective consciousness to love, I grabbed a Vegan lunch and mingled with Create Your Life event goers. Some of the guests said they were going on a fairy walk on the grounds of the state park behind Enchantment and invited me along.

As the golf cart arrived I was happy to see in the crowd I was not the only guy for once on one of these spiritual close encounters.

Now, ever since 2010 in Mt. Shasta over an argument over spaghetti dinner with a human/fairy – Yes, they exist! – I’ve had many failed encounters with fairy folk.  So I was hoping the walk might change my fairy luck. My Irish grandmother believed in fairies and leprechauns and so I knew the fairy folk might be able to help Fred find peace.

Unlike angels, fairies have egos and can be mischievous.  Which is where I fall down on the fairy connection. But our sweet guide Courtney Long, a human fairy herself, was superb at explaining that fairies like people who recycle and seek the lowest footprint on the planet.  Things I’ve become far better at since 2010.  So I relaxed and began to connect to the faries in the beauty of the Boyton Canyon.

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Human Fairy and Angel Fairy Expert Courtney Long

Wow!  I saw thousands of fairies giggling in the trees lift off in the Sedona sky to meet our group of about 100.  All fairy believers.

The beach-like red sand trail I slowly tread along with our enchanted group hunting faries was dappled in sunlight. A gentle breeze in the pines and cedars sparkled fairy dust everywhere. I relaxed free of client troubles and Fred’s loss when my fairy hunting eye caught sight of a pod in a cluster in bush.

Looking with my third eye, wide open with Courtney’s expert guidance, I saw in that pod a tiny fairy where I saw a newborn fairy. Instantly knew Fred had been born as a teensy girl fairy named. He told me telepathically his new name is Fredwenna.

Robin Williams, a giant blue whale soaring in the sky above the treetops above me, kidded baby Fred doing his funniest NYC accent, “Ladies and gents, I present that most adorable hot dog ever, The Fred Weena!” A few people on the tour wondered what I was laughing at.

My sorrow exploded into joy. Fairies sang a chorus of bliss. Fred was back!

Fredweena

After I got home and reunited with Elizabeth with a tender hug and saw that my amazing client, who has been ill so I had asked the fairies to do a healing on, had called me when I was deep in the fairy land, witnessing the rebirth of my beloved brother Fred.

When I returned the super client’s call we were in tears on both sides that we had been so harsh with each other. We’ve still not worked it out, as it’s royal mess I can’t get into here, of course. But the fairies, in whose care my lost kid brother Fred’s soul rests, tell me it’s all going to work out and not to be too anxious or sad.

Fredweena is happy in the Boyton Canyon fairy world and I am Fairy Grateful.

My next blog will be about how I repaid Robin Williams’ blue whale spirit self for helping my lost brother find the fairy lands in my next coolest ever blog post titled:

“The Ocean is Getting Lonely – The Robin Williams Visitations” 

Look for it soon as writing is my therapy. 

Learn more about events where we can meet plus grab some cool loot from the amazing spirit scientists supporting our planetary healing at CoolestMeditationEver.com

 

 

THOUGHTS ON THE LIFESPANS OF MAYFLIES, DOGS, HUMANS AND REDWOODS

These thoughts on life’s brevity and its fragile nature yet beauty were written a few hours before the tragedy in Vegas. Already they feel like words from another era, another me.  Nonetheless I offer this blog with prayers for the lost and wounded at the concert last night as we must accept in our crazy times that we must live each day with as much love and light as possible, no matter what fate has in store for us.

OCTOBER 1, 2017

Our neighbor Paul, a gregarious man with a beard Santa would envy, dropped by today while I was weeding the backyard, that grew wild while I traveled two months out three this summer showing our new Antarctica meditations film across the southwest with my love and partner in all things Elizabeth. Well, it was more like Paul was dragged here by his big dog that outweighs the thin as rail scrappy 70-something.

The former trail guide Paul’s adorable German Shepard, Julie, who I learned is eight years old, gave Elizabeth and me both kisses and presented  herself for hugs. Paul gave welcome advice for packing for our upcoming hike into Havasu Falls in the Grand Canyon this week. He suggested 25 pounds max weight for us each. His assurance I could make the hike calmed Elizabeth who has been worried sick about my being in good enough shape to make it to the blue green waters.

As I watched my teenage, by human years, Lincoln and the frisky 56-year-old, by human years, Julie work on lifting Lincoln’s play skills, I thought about my 65th birthday last week. How weird a thing age is.  Turning 65 means now magically means I am on the same great Medicare coverage Bernie Sanders is tilting at windmills for us all.

It makes no sense to me as I pondered, while Julie snuck into the house to steal Lincoln’s bones, that my arbitrary birthdate, which some bureaucrat decided made me insurable with Medicare, while Elizabeth is stuck on Obamacare. BTW, I have to thank Elizabeth, an expert in Medicare, for guiding me to the best coverage in the complex decision making process that would puzzle most lawyers for its complexity of choice.

I dislike Trump for his huge ego and mean heart, have since the 80s. My spirit guide Ohom has said he’ll have an awakening to higher consciousness while in office.  But I grow weary of the wait after three hurricanes have had no impact on his stubborn ego.

But the Trumpster is right for once, Obamacare is not a good thing for enough people. Certainly not for me. I got un-Affordable health care quote of $400 a month with a $5000 deductible only 50% coverage and no pharma plan. Pass!  Now under Medicare I am covered 100% for about $300 a month for all drugs and medical with a $180 dedcutible. That’s more like it!

Unfortunately, Trump has no real plan to replace Obamacare with something better once he repeals it. He simply hates Obama and is out to ruin anything the black man did out of spite and simmering racism.

Enter Bernie to the rescue.

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I love Bernie’s plan of Medicare for everyone, much as it’s not going to have the votes. But there’s hope it will pass after a sweep of the Tea Party candidates ruining the Republican party beside ineffective Dems in the 2018 elections. We need to get to the center again as a nation.

I shook off the odd feeling of siding with Trump and Bernie at the same time that was enough to make me feel like my head might explode. So I turned me thoughts to our dogs living 7 times faster a life than we.  Putting my consciousness into the dogs POV, as they sniffed the yard hunting for lizards, I could see we humans seem to move through time in slow motion in comparison to them. It was groovy to visualize they do not suffer any feeling of a shorter life anymore than we feel cheated that Redwoods live thousands of years longer than we do.

Then I thought of Mayflies who live only a few hours once they emerge from the water.  I checked in and yes, same for them.  A lifetime is measured in a few hours feels as long as our own. By comparison to a mayfly, I thought, smiling up to take in the deep blue Sedona sky, I am redwood tree in lifespan.

One day I will outlive little Lincoln as I have many pets in my life. But it’s nice to realize our little doggie does not feel his life is short. Indeed, his life is like Einstein’s theory of relativity in doggie form.

Then I thought how good it is to be so vibrant and healthy at 65, fit enough to take on the Grand Canyon at an age when my grandmother was in the nursing home. After all, when I saw the Dreamshield in 2010 I was told I will live to well over 100, as some have in my family, to continue to help usher in the new age .

And now that longer life I am to have is blessed with the best mate of my life and should I be injured I now have the insurance Bernie dreams of for us all. Fingers crossed he pulls it off a miracle. It will be like he won the elections after all as he should have in the first place.

 

Bluehost Sucks

Screen Shot 2017-09-27 at 1.45.17 PMFYI if you are looking for good customer service avoid Bluehost. The hosting service did not start out that way when someone near and dear to me, my partner in BuzzBroz.com our social media biz, started using them 10 years ago. But that’s another story today.

About 6 weeks ago Bluehost suggested Elizabeth upgrade her service with them, for a higher fee of course. She had already prepaid for a 5-year plan.  And oh how the sales person at Bluehost promised it would improve her service. WRONG! Ever since the “upgrade” it’s been one problem after another, starting with all of her sites being black screen for two weeks after the ‘Upgrade.’

Now for another 2 weeks, the site for one of her lines of business, thank goodness not a client site, is forwarding to another website, rendering her income producing page useless and her customers scratching their heads.  And no one at Bluehost can figure out why or how to fix it.  She can’t even restore with a back up because her Bluehost dashboard is broken, too.  Total fail of service and support.

Despite service that’s been so bad from Bluehost that it eventually brought Elizabeth, a tough vet with 17 years as master sergeant, to tears after 6 weeks of tech after tech fails that went in total circles after two hour calls that have now added up to a dozen hours of wasted time.

Clearly in this world of robo-service from the likes of Bluehost, Google, YouTube, Facebook and more, service is a forgotten word.  No one in management has stepped up to help and now when she calls she is told that it’s being handled by a senior tech adviser but the “senior tech advisers don’t take calls.” Take heart, there are a few bright spots for good service on the web. GoDaddy and Vimeo are two.

How long until these good guys devolve into the bad service joke that is Bluehost’s circular “we cannot help you” brand service who can say? But long as they keep up good service, Godaddy and Vimeo will benefit from the vacuum left by the Bluehost bad service losers of the web.

 

Update, after a flurry of attempts and many more hours of Elizabeth’s time at service the pages remain a mess.

Lessons in Love & Fear: Lincoln the Rescue Dog

This past February I was struck with love at first site as a young lady Human Society worker paraded a little dog across the Sedona Petsmart parking lot. Several hundred dollars of dog paraphernalia later, Elizabeth and I were filled with joy taking home a one-year-old rescue dog pre-named Lincoln. Abe being one of my spirit guides we kept the name.

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Lincoln our rescue dog beats the heat with new booties we bought to protect him from hot asphalt.

Lincoln quickly sniffed out most of our house, tail wagging. But soon as we turned our backs to talk about the amazing luck we had getting such a gorgeous dog for only $50, we noticed he peed the Navajo rug dead center of the house.  We chuckled and cleaned up the rug, writing it off to excitement at the new house.

Now, I’ve raised many dogs in my 6 decades on the planet, including, most recently, a dog that became a co-star in my film ZACK’S MACHINE. But I raised all those dogs from pups. Rescue dogs I’ve learned are a whole different, pardon the pun, animal.

Jeez.  It began so well with Lincoln, an adorable cross between a Jack Russell Terrier and Chihuahua. Lincoln took to me for petting and cuddles at first, but in a few days Lincoln became so bonded to my love Elizabeth, who ironically did not really want the dog as much as me, that he began to growl at me when I’d enter the room. 10 months later he’s still growling.

Well, time for classes from a dog pro.  We must be doing something wrong for the guy or we have to accept the last owners ruined this sweet little guy and cope.

One day during his trial period from the Humane Society, Lincoln’s possessiveness escalated to an intense nip on my hand when I held him back from running out after Elizabeth. Both of us chided Lincoln together.  I was in shock.  No dog I owned has ever turned on me. Dogs love me.  We still had half a week to take the dog back free of charge but I decided against it. If this dog was going to be saved from the exterminator we were his best hope.

Lincoln rebelled whenever Elizabeth left the house and hid in the closet.  (He’s still at this today.)  One day we came home and Lincoln had chewed up the venetian blinds. So we resorted to using a crate, something dogs generally like. Not him.  We’d come home and he nose was bloody from charging the bars. He even bent one cage and escaped! So cages were out.

We went on the road for month and tried a pet sitter, a real pro. But despite her best effort he was a little monster with growling and nipping! When we got back we realized our ability to travel was cramped and wondered how we got into this mess.

Still, we took Lincoln as challenge. My love and patience teamed with Elizabeth’s to wear him down his fear of men.  But it’s not going well.  I try not to take this hatred of me in my own home personally. But day after day of dog cowering in fear, growling at and hogging my love’s attention, I must admit wears on me.

What’s the lesson here from the little spirit guide? Lincoln’s fear blinds him to 50% of the love our household has to offer and love from strangers we encounter. Fear also hampers Lincoln’s ability to enjoy pet sitters in Elizabeth’s place.  So this little guy shows us how fear cripples our life and the ability to enjoy all it has to offer.

What the Heck Age is It Anyway? Thoughts on the Fracturing New Age Movement and Doreen Virtue

Wait a minute.  Isn’t this supposed to be the Age of Aquarius instead of the Eve of the Trumpocalypse? Where’s the freaking Golden Age we started hearing about in the 1960s?

As Ricky used to say to his redhead wife back in the 60s, “Lucy, wha’ happened?!”

Fear happened. The people behind the curtains really know fear and how to wield it to maintain the status quo. Or as what’s happening now, send humanity backwards.

Indeed, the 1/10th of 1% hit pay dirt with liberals and conservatives in America fearing each other like enemies with the election of Donald Trump. In one fell swoop the fear mongers, via real fake news, divided white families and friends from one another like we have not seen since the time of the Civil War. A war that killed 620,000 Americans.

The fractionalization of the New Age can also also be seen in Flat Earth Movement. Startling when I first heard of it a few months ago, the belief earth is flat further fractionalizes the small New Age community. Indeed, how can we solve global warming if we can’t first agree we all live on a globe?

I work in social media as my day job and I am not enjoying my work these days. The toxicity of flame wars fueled by Russian, liberal and conservative trolls, paid and unpaid, has poisoned the web with fear. So can you blame people for being fearful and freaked out when you read headlines like this one from VOX?

North Korea: the US should be “beaten to death like a rabid dog”

Now, North Korea has been making inflammatory remarks like this for decades. But what’s changed is their tiny mind controlled nation is making solid advances on missiles capable of reaching the US.

On top of this our collective fears are exacerbated by our impetuous new leader Donald Trump with his orange finger on the trigger and penchant for name calling on Twitter to attempt to distract from the Mueller investigation on Russian election interference. The effect of all this fear based insanity on America in general and New Age community in particular is, in a word,: depression. This is affecting conscious events with apathetic turnouts and the outright rejection of New Age values.

Prime example: witness the re-conversion to Christianity of Doreen Virtu. As a famed New Age channeler, tarot card designer and reader and author of 50 books, her rejection of her own work has broken the hearts of many of her New Age fans and students.

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Doreen Virtue Steps Back Into the Comfort of Her Christian Beliefs – Source Unknown

But don’t be too hard on Doreen. Like many losing heart that no real new age has in fact emerged from the aging New Age movement she’s fallen back to the comfort of her early faith. The comfort of being told what to believe is right and wrong from authority figures in crazy times can tempt any of us to retreat to the old ways.

Ah I hear many of you. What about cool New Age stuff like Burning Man? Sorry, burners. Burning Man has gotten into a rut too. Some Burners are in their 70s now and the event has grown more commercial and like a self parody. It’s time for Burning Man’s ideas of a cashless society of art and grace to leave the desert and make their way into the mainstream.

Wrapping up, my feeling is this: All the old ways are dying and that includes all faiths plus the New Age quilt of beliefs. So jumping ship now is pointless as we are awaiting something totally new that centers around an end to all polarity and fear. Hang in there.  The new era, pointless to name it until it fully emerges from the current chaos, is already growing up beneath our feet, as my love and visionary partner Elizabeth has seen.

Yes, it’s painful to watch the old dissolve and struggle to stay alive before our eyes; to lose stars like Doreen from the New Age field at such a scary time. But know in your heart the new is in fact coming. I was told on my way back from the Antarctica meditations by my ET spirit guide that the shift would take 50 years to fully be entrenched. And we’re a long way 2062. Be patient.

For now focus your intention on the good you want to see in the new in your meditations. And start with your own world the world you want. Find love and live life to fullest and freest. Never give into fear and keep moving forward!

See our 24 Quantum Intentional Meditations visualizing a better tomorrow here.

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Ken Sheetz and Elizabeth England on the Nile in 2016

 

FRIENDS AND FAMILY MORE IMPORTANT THAN POLITICS

Scratching your head on why Trump is still going strong as he is? Blame our mass media for being not so much as fake as seriously failing to present both sides. If you watch only mainstream media and comedy you really know very little of what he’s doing.

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Photo from the Bloomberg Article that Inspired this post.

Not all Trump believers are racist idiots. I know this firsthand through my amazing Trump fan friends. Take some comfort Trump was elected to do a job of disrupting the status quo by his loyal fans, many of whom are your family and friends. They have not suddenly grown tails and horns. Don’t let yourself be polarized.

Many of his brighter backers are overlooking Trump’s obvious tendencies to racism and misogamy for a higher purpose of a badly needed reboot and freeing us from the deep state. Yeah, and it’s not a pretty sight how he’s going about it. He swims in uncharted waters.

Have some faith this is all going to work out without letting all this hoo ha that about selling soap rob your soul peace.

Extremism left or right is not healthy. Seek balance in all things.

As for me? Well, I’ve disliked Trump since the 1980s for his massive ego. That won’t change for me. But that does not mean I still can’t send intentions in the cosmic field he’ll wake up or love my friends who still back him.

Find the center in meditation: coolestmeditationever.com

TRUMP’S MEDIA ECLIPSE

During the turbulent Nixon era we really only had one comedian giving us political humor; Johnny Carson. Johnny was the pioneer in this art of taking the days headlines and mining them for laughs.

Leno followed in Johnny’s political humor footsteps along with Letterman. But political comedy would come to full bloom under the great Jon Stewart.

My spirit guide Robin Williams told me during the elections that a Trump presidency would be “hilarious.”  Indeed, the epic comic turned blue whale in his next life as I have channeled, was right. Under Trump the political humor has been hilarious from Steven Colbert, Seth Meyers, Jimmy Kimmel, Bill Maher, Samantha Bee, Trevor Noah, John Oliver, Conan O’Brien, Alec Baldwin, Jimmy Fallon, James Corden and more up and comers. But the joke of Trump is getting very old very fast. Overexposure is a law of reality.

Looking deeper to my Trump rubber necking, add the 24/7 news channels, like FOX, CNN and MSNBC that did not exists in Nixon times, the talk shows like the View.  Next add that media is now within my pockets via my cell phone 24/7.

Last, add in social media feeding on itself with Tweets and retweets, FB posts, YouTube pundits right and left where I have my day job for BuzzBroz.com, my social media company and I see it:

MEDIA ECLIPSE!

What’s amazing, love him or hate him, is Trump’s uncanny ability to eclipse so much of the 24/7 coverage in this ever expanding media world. Now, I don’t know about you, but I sure need a break.  I am trying to screen and limit Trump overexposure consciously to 30 minutes per day.  That’s still an incredible amount of my day but I was losing hours of work time in the Trump field.

For me my big tension release has been meditation. Back at the start of 2017 my spirit guide Ohom, an ET thought traveler from Nektar, asked me to go the inauguration with my partner Elizabeth transmute fear to love we did it. But since that difficult meditation mission I have to admit I’ve lost my inner place in the Trump fog.

It’s not Ohom’s fault, certainly also not Elizabeth’s, I’ve been sucked into the Trump vortex. The blue Orion never asked me to do more than the spirit work of that one day as regards to one Donald J Trump, which Elizabeth and I did gratefully and with great success. You can see for yourself on our playlist.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist…

No, it’s been my own dislike of Trump dating back to our being peers of a kind in commercial real estate that’s really sucked me in combined with the hypnotic pull seeing the latest stunt he’s pulled thrown in my face 24/7.

Time for me to step away from Trump’s train presidency that polarizing our country. The worldwide media machine profiting off Trump at the expense of real news has the mogul abundantly covered. I step back now to assess if I want to go further with a feature documentary on our LOVE TRUMPS HATE theme we devised for the inauguration. But I will no longer use that film project as excuse for Trump binge watching.

Now that I’ve properly analyzed why I’ve gotten so caught up on all things Trump, a potent combination of my past history of dislike of Trump dating to the 80s, hyperactive media and a hyperbolic president, I am looking forward to returning to my regularly planetary meditations. I seek to do more earthly healing and regain my inner peace.

LOW VIBE TRUMP

Relax, Trump, a master troll, is really not as big as deal as he’d like us think. He, like Obama and Bush, are beholden to the deep state for his marching orders. Witness Trump’s recent flip flop on Afghanistan for recent proof. In reality Trump’s simply the #distractorinchief, keeping us away from paying attention to local news and events while the bad guys rake in the chips.

I will continue to keep a bit of an eye on Donald’s presence in our field.  How can’t I with the coverage he gets. But I will do so without sampling the ever expanding variety comedy and news takes on his work.

I hope my meditations on this Trump obsession helps you break free of the Trump vortex too. Keep meditating with us at CoolestMeditationEver.com.

Johnny, I miss you and those sweet simpler times of my youth.

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