Trump’s Fever Dream – Chapter 2 – The White Hospital

Welcome to my writing therapy and I hope your reading therapy. This blog series is a science fiction parody about a dark future, perhaps coming into sad reality due the “too painful to watch” daily show of Trump’s inability to lead during the coronavirus crisis.

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If you are just joining us on the blog here’s a link to read Chapter one if you’d like to enjoy the whole science fictional parody as it builds.

When we last left a feverish President Trump it was May 2022 when he was just dumped buck naked in the thorny bushes of the Rose Garden by a mysterious giant time traveling cosmic butterfly.

TRUMP’S FEVER DREAM

CHAPTER 2 – THE WHITE HOSPITAL

Trump’s former young black personal attendant, Robert, dressed in a hospital gown and mask, helps a badly scratched Trump from the rose bushes to his shaky feet and says,”Whoa. Last time I saw you, I rushed out your bedroom to get the doc. When I came back your were gone! Where’d you go for two whole years? And why are you naked as a Jay bird on the 4th of July?”

Too distracted to answer, Trump notices every window in the White House is brightly lit and wonders, “Why the hell are all the White House lights on?”

“Put on my spare mask and gown on and I’ll show you,” says Robert handing Trump both.

“I’m immune to the virus. Don’t need this junk!” shouts Trump, drawing attention from a masked security guard.

“Sorry. President Cuomo’s executive order of 2021 makes wearing of gowns and masks law,” offers Robert grimly.

“President Cuomo!” shouts Trump. Spotting the masked White House security, pulling out his pistol, Trump angrily complies. As he struggles to gown up Trump says, “Cuomo?! Why isn’t Mike president? He dead?”

“Pence ain’t dead yet… but he’s eating himself there.”

“Eating?” says Trump.

“To appeal to your Trumpers ol’ Pence took over your brand of eating all American fast food. But that shit got way outta control. Last report Pence’s gained 130 pounds since he was ousted from the presidency.”

Trump laughs wickedly and says,”Ousted how?

“Senate unanimously impeached him for slipping ventilators to all his PAC backers. Mikey, never even made it to the elections. Your yes man was lost after you vanished.”

“What happened to Biden?”

“Gone with the Covid. Sweet guy. Don’t think he’d have been much of president in any case.”

“And Bernie?”

“Virus killed old Bernie same day as Moscow Mitch. But not before he gave his spot to Cuomo. Bernie that is,” adds Robert.

“Who’d Cuomo run against?” says Trump in angry wonder.

“Jared. Epic landslide.”

“Surprise!” says Trump dryly. “So who’s Andy’s VP?”

“Chris, his –”

“Brother, I know. What a fuck fest! Totally illegal.”

“The Senate, they changed them laws to permit sibs in office,” says Robert, trying not to show his happiness.

The gowned and masked Trump stomps for the White House, “Enough. I am gonna tell Cuomo face to face to get the fuck out of my oval office.”

“America’s hero, um, President Cuomo, he don’t work from here no more.”

Trump stops dead in his tracks and spins to ask, “What? Why?!”

“President Cuomo, you see, he made the White House into a coronavirus hospital. We call it the White Hospital now. I still work here. Trained nurse now on the front line,” says Robert proudly

“So where do I find the Cuomo brothers’ HQ?”

“You ain’t gonna like what I gotta tell you, sir,” says Robert kicking at the poorly mowed White House lawn.

“Stop fucking around and give it to me,” says Trump grabbing Robert by his hospital gown.

“The Cuomos brother, you see theyt work from the repossessed Trump Tower.”

“Fuck me.”

“After all the lawsuits for your — ahem — handling of the virus, well, it was your baby Ivanka’s only option,” says Robert warily.

“How’s Ivanka?!” asks Trump and then adds as an afterthought, “And the rest of my kids… and Melania?”

“Brace yourself… condolences,” says Robert hanging his head. “All dead except your boy, Barron.

“All my kids except Barron dead! My wife are dead?! But they were all in great health. The greatest.” says Trump with surprisingly little emotion.

“Wicked virus keeps mutating. Now it’s letting the Boomers alone. Been killing mostly peeps age 30 to 50 now. Eric, well, he went just last week. But not of the virus.”

“No?”

“Eric bowed out on a hunting trip trying to extinct the last Rhino. Rhino got him. So sorry, sir,” says Robert gently patting Trump and the back.

“Don’t be,” says Trump waving off Robert’s sympathy.

“Huh? I know you’re tough, sir. But that’s cold.”

“Not cold. It’s fine,” says Trump with a maniacal grin.

“Fine how?”

“Ha. This is all just a fever dream.” says Trump with a delerious chuckle.

“Wow. Love that shit. But sadly this is all too real, Donald, I mean, sir.”

“Believe what you want. I’m outta here,” Trump storms off for the White House

“Where you goin’, sir?” says a bewildered Robert.

“Back to my bedroom to wake the fuck up!”

Robert shrugs and lets Trump storm off to the White House to learn for himself.

END CHAPTER 2

 

Trump’s Fever Dream

Preface

To be up totally front with you, dear reader — think of me as a lost spirit brother to Governor Andrew Cuomo who likes to tell it straight too, warts and all — I’ve not been a Trump fan since his “co-written” 1987 Bestseller THE ART OF THE DEAL. What a shit he showed himself to be in that book. How he ever got to be president with how he treats everyone like a sucker is beyond me.

To think I had put all my fears built up over decades of seeing his antics in the media about Trump as president aside to meditate in DC, along with my love Elizabeth, for the best possible presidency, for the world’s sake, at his Inauguration (see photo below).

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That’s my love Elizabeth in the penguin hat

Welp, it was a short honeymoon because Trump was already steamrolling over the Standing Rock tribe by green-lighting the Dakota Access Pipeline within days of his dismal swearing in, even before Elizabeth and I headed back to Sedona.

And so, my Trump bias fully disclosed, I proudly present my science fiction parody… drum roll please…

TRUMP’S FEVER DREAM

Chapter One – THE LONELIEST WHITE HOUSE

A shabby shadow of his former self, President Trump aimlessly roams an abandoned hallway of the White House, now an empty ghost town. The leader of the free world, his bizarre mop of hair more of a mess than usual, shuffles to an abrupt stop before an oil painting of JKF and vents loudly, “You had it easy, Jacko. The Cuban Missile Crisis was Jack shit compared to being a conservative running this liberal leaning country during a fucking pandemic!”

A Mexican cleaning woman wearing a surgeon’s mask leans her head out a conference room and quickly ducks back inside again. She makes takes a small cross on a chain from her blouse, kisses it and prays, “Jesus protect us all from the Anti-Christ.”

After glaring at JFK’s glorious image for an inordinate amount of time, Trump flips off the Kennedy painting and slumps away, a rumpled embodiment of depression.

By the light of FOX NEWS playing Sean Hannity broadcasting from his elegant home, Trump wolfs down half a Big Mac in three bites. He glibly washes the Mickey D down with a long noisy draw his straw dipped into an idiotically large Diet Coke.

Sean Hannity seems to speak directly to Trump from the big TV screen,”Hey Bud. Don’t listen to the commie loving liberals. You closed all travel from China the day you learned about the Chinese Virus, all way back in January. Your bold action was swift, decisive and all-American! If Pelosi and her corrupt Democrat Congress had not distracted you with their hoax impeachment we would never have lost so many precious Americans!”

“Hell yeah!” cheers Trump so loud it sends him into a coughing fit. Between coughs he desperately gasps for air. Trump finally regains control of his coughing and wipes sweat from his brow with a monogrammed DJT hanky, smeared with orange tan makeup. “Shit. Gotta get tested again. Nah. Probably just a budding ulcer this bullshit’s giving me. Fuck this. I give ulcers, not get them! I’m fine. I’m fine. ”

A short time later Trump brushes his teeth before the presidential bathroom mirror. Done, he grins smugly at his reflection, “Looking good, Donnie.”

The Donald in the mirror dryly answers back, “Like hell, loser.”

Trump drops his electric toothbrush clattering to the marble floor and leans to the mirror. He makes strange faces at himself, mimicked perfectly by his reflection. “Seeing things. Must be one those Covid hallucinations that fuck Fauci warned me about, or was it Jared?”

“Jared’s a buffoon’s buffoon,” says Trump’s perturbed reflection.

“Who the hell’s doing this shit? Gotta be a TV monitor behind the mirror doing some kind of deep fake!” growls Trump at his smirking reflection.

“Ha! Never thought you had a conscience, asshole?” says mirror Trump.

“Screw you. The FBI will figure this out for me and nail your sneaky liberal bastard!”

“Right. The FBI loves your fat ass. Don’t they?” laughs mirror Trump.

Nervous as an orange tabby facing down a German Shepard, Trump rushes to turn off the light switch.

Mirror Trump quips, “See you in your dreams, killer.”

Trump scurries off to the bedroom, slamming to door to the bathroom behind him. He picks up a phone.  “Danny. — Shut up and listen. I want a sweep done of my can. Someone’s hijacked my mirror.” Trump listens for a beat. “I don’t need a doctor. I need you to do what I tell you!” Trump slams the phone down and angrily begins to tear his grungy outfit off.

Later, still shaken by his dark vision, Trump jams his chubby legs into his too tight red silk pajama bottoms.

A young black male servant, Robert, sporting an elegant, if there can be such a thing, surgical mask, pokes his roguishly handsome head through the presidential bedroom door and says, “Will there be anything else, Mr. President?”

“Nope. Those two Big Macs and fries will tide me over nicely.” Trumps says, punctuating his sentence with a, “Burp.”

“Night then, Mr. President,” says Robert doing his best to hide a shudder of revulsion.

Trump’s fluffs his pillow without acknowledging the kindly servant. He leaves Trump to his own rantings, gently closing the big paneled door.

“Robert?!” shouts Trump, loud enough to be heard through the soundproof door.

Robert peers his head back inside the door inquisitively.

“Come in, Robert. I need some, uh, advice,” says Trump with a pinch of boyish charm.

Robert apprehensively takes a chair that Trump offers by the crackling fireplace, tilting his head to the side to avoid Trump’s mask-free breath. The gorgeous smell of the roaring fireplace fills Robert’s nostrils. His big brown eyes close in bliss for just a moment and then he hides his feelings, straightening his butler’s jacket’s red vest.

Ever the salesman, Trump notices Robert’s blissful sniff and brags, “Tonight fire is genuine redwood from California’s National Redwood Forest. Gift from the lumber industry. Chopped me up 10 cords. Great guys lumberjacks. Man’s men!”

“You never fail to amaze me, sir,” offers Robert politically.

“Robert, here’s what I wanna to ask: Today Jake Tapper said everyone on my White House personal staff hates me.  This despite of the extra I pay I slip you under the table, 100% tax free I might add,” says Trump somberly.

“Well, we don’t always sees things eye to eye, Mister President,” says Robert, breaking a warm reassuring and absolutely genuine smile, But ya know I love the fact you say exactly what’s on your mind!”

Without returning Robert’s kindness, Trump says, “Robert, how does it make you feel when someone calls you a nigger?”

“Why, uh, terrible. The worst sir.” says Robert, pain written on his angelic face.

“Well, that’s how I feel tonight, terrible in the nigger worst ways,” says Trump dropping his head into his hands.

“About that N word, sir. I wish — ”

“Pence wants me killed.” whispers Trump, cutting Robert’s complaint off. “Keep your voice down, Pence might have my bedroom bugged.”

“Mr. Boy Scout? What makes you think that, sir?” asks Robert respectfully.

“Mike’s pissed I made him my fall guy for the ventilator shortage not Jared. But Jared’s is my son-in-law goddamit. Family comes first!” says Trump staring into the fireplace flames as if looking for answers.

“Amen to that. But relax, Vice Prez Pence wouldn’t hurt a fly, sir. Let alone you,” says Robert reassuringly.

“Wrong. It’s the quiet ones you gotta worry about, Robert. Pence wants me out of the way. He wants me dead so he can pin all the blame on all the Americans stacking up in mass fucking graves!” bellows Trump. “Robert, you’re the only guy I trust. Starting tomorrow I need you to make runs McDonald’s personally.”

“Happy to but why, sir?”

“Poisoning. That’s how the sneaky boy scout is going to try to bump me off. Will you do this for me, Robert. Can I count on you?

“Of course, sir. Now, if you don’t mind –” Robert notices a trickle of sweat leave a traces of white skin at Trump temple. “May I, sir?”

“May you what?”

“Take your temperature,” says Robert pulling out a thermometer from his jacket.

“I’m fine. Just stress. No fever,’ says Trump unconvincingly.

“Well, I am going to get the White House doctor on the phone just in case,” says Robert picking  up a red phone. “Phone’s dead! Lemme get you into bed and I –”

” I AM FUCKING FINE!” roars Trump in defiance, going into a coughing jag.

“Hang on, Mr. President! Be right back with help!” Robert races out of the bedroom.

“Why is no one listening to me?! I am fit as a — “Trump falls like a tower of fast food to the plush carpet. The room dissolves into the form of a giant butterfly floating amidst a galaxy of stars.

Trump hollers in fear as he comes to astride said giant butterfly.  Trump hollers again, noticing he’s totally naked.

The butterfly dives for Washington DC., banks upside down and dumps Trump on the White House lawn. Sent tumbling, the naked Trump comes to screaming halt in the thorny bushes of the Rose Garden. A flashlight sets the spectacle that is naked Donald Trump aglow.

Dressed in a bright yellow hospital gown, Robert, now sporting a goatee, tosses aside a cigarette and shouts, “Who goes there?”

“The President!” shouts Trump, hiding in the rose bushes.

“That you, President Cuomo?” says Robert with a puzzled squint as pulls on his surgical mask.

“President who?!” shouts Trump.

“Cuomo. Wait, what the, that you Donald?”

“Donald?!  Shut it and get me some clothes, Robert,” says the shivering Trump.

“But you’ve been missing 2 years now, um, former President Trump!” says Robert in shock. “Where you been?”

Trump’s orange face goes as white as his ample ass.

END CHAPTER ONE

 

 

A Serious April Fool’s Day

Sorry, fans. I am having trouble connecting to my spirit guides and higher self tonight. The reason: Fear. Fear has grounded my normally cosmic consciousness. Not even watching my friend of a friend Deepak Chopra’s excellent and most soothing, literally web breaking, video could soothe me.

And to have this happen to my once secret psychic super powers on April Fool’s Day of all days. Yeesh!  A day I’ve loved since I was a kid. You see, I am a prankster by nature. I carry a lot of Kokopelli energy. — But alas I am far too serious for silly jokes tonight, long after sweet Elizabeth has gone to bed.  My poor wife is so stressed she is grinding her teeth at night.  Tomorrow we brave a trip CVS for a dental guard for her. I will get one too.

“Why am is Ken so stressed?”you may ask if you live only watch the news once a year for the after Xmas sales. You see on this April Fool’s Day, an eternity of bliss ago, a lot of innocent people are going to die all over this beautiful planet. Oh, and America is the #1 outbreak spot on that planet as of today. New Age spirit teachings that humans all decide when we are going to die before we are born, well, it ain’t helping dull the pain I am feeling as a planetary intuitive. My nerves are on fire. CBD or medical cannibas helps if you live in a state where you can get it.

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Americans frightened of Trump ever changing travel restrictions crowd airports further spreading the coronavirus.

The virus science has become compelling enough that we Yanks are going to lose up to 240,000 Americans, that’s like 4 Vietnams, for Trump to extend his rather feeble stab at precautions an extra month.

That scares me because Trump is only putting up smoke screen about the lousy job he’s done, and is still doing, without really working in the coordinated way we must to get the supplies, facilites and manpower to manage this. He’s making things worse than they have to be. It’s like we have a dry drunk Captain at the wheel of the Titanic.

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I forgive myself for being off my game. You see, I nearly died of black mold poisoning and resulting pneumonia in 2013. Not being able to breathe is a horrible feeling. And since that’s how the virus kills you I feel a dread most people don’t about catching this damn thing. Add to this a heart failure in 2017 and, well, it’s a perfect cocktail of fear.

These are terrifying times. And I encourage you to do the same forgiveness of your fears in your life. Things just are going to be awful for awhile. It’s just that sad and simple.

I need to let go of a world that is vanishing and embrace the new. But it’s a hard thing to let go of and I hope you are doing better than me in managing your fear. Stay socially distant, even when the people of the Right wing are flaunting the dangers due to their misplaced belief in the biggest April Fool who ever lived, Donald J. Trump.

Love, Ken

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SECRET AGENTS FOR THE LIGHT?

As Elizabeth and I socially-hibernate — better than social-distancing, right? — here in Sedona, I am in touch with my ancestral spirits, spirit guides, earthly ghost guides, ET spirit guides, multi-dimensional hozenflatters (their name not mine) more than ever.

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My digital artist rendering of but a few of my pantheon spirit guides

Within my overcrowded skull, my pantheon of spirit guides are saying, in their own unique and sometimes annoying voices, that as a species humanity is being called into thinking in new ways and transforming into greater love and trust in each other. Love always wins in the end because it’s what we come from, in some form both dark and light. Take that, fear mongers!

But, big butt, much as I love what I am hearing from spirit it’s been hard to listen to as the news is so overwhelmingly negative and FEAR BASED. Ekart Tolle calls this a time of “collective adversity.”

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On the bright side, the mysterious 2011 pattern of an eagle that appeared in my hair actually makes more sense than today’s headlines

Each day we watch the vast majority of our PAC and lobby-bought politicians — Governor Cuomo of New Yoprk state, has been an awesome exception BTW — from local dog catcher to DC player, fail us in a myriad of ways. We’re like a society of Charlie Browns. Our leaders, all Lucys, keep yanking the football of well-being from us over and over again. And yet we keep taking that emotional spill over and over again, like we’re caught in time loop of Charlie Brown style idiocy.

Yeesh. As a psychic person it’s terrifying to watch our “leaders” make bad choices that have us heading like lemmings off a timeline cliff. Feels like watching  a slow motion tsunami getting ever closer to overwhelming our hospital system in the next week to 10 days. This can be avoided by isolating but not enough Americans, old and young (especially) alike, are doing so.

Unfortunately, this is thanks to a large to an anti-scientist president who just does not get he needs to be leading, not hiding the truth, and looking for ways to feather his nest and the 1 percent’s. Indeed, now that the elite he serves have fed from of the FED trough at taxpayer expense Trump’s ready to have everyone back to work and back in church by Easter. Wha?

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Add to this mainstream media hysteria the many weird conspiracy theories our spirit pundits are spinning at this time and its enough to make you feel as lost as a kitten in dog shelter. Yes, what we are hearing from the Ickes and Wilcox’s of the world have a grain of truth. But come on!  This whole massive pedo arrests thing as a plan to snatch all the bad people under the cover of the Coronavirus is just plain nutty.

Especially when in the players we have a crook like Barr in charge of the DOJ, who wants to steal more of our rights. Are we seriously to believe Barr under Trump — who both let pedo-king Jeffery Epstein be murdered or suicide to escape justice in prison — are heroes who are going to bust pedophiles? NO! Only a psyop could be this convoluted. Wake up, spirit friends. Seriously.

I hate conspiracy theories in general, but especially those targeted at our open-minded spirit community because many good people get snared in these twisted dark fantasies, AKA psyop, AKA targeted weapons grade mind control media.

Despite being wise to the psyop Q-Anon game, it still amazes me when I meet a spiritual person who is pro Trump!  Why? Because to be pro-Trump a spirit person must ignore refugee kids held at the border by his administration, Trump’s impeachment for holding aid from the Ukraine for dirt on Joe Biden,  disregard for nature, his thousands of lies and on and on darkness.

MY CONSPIRACY THEORY OF LIGHT

So allow me, if you will, to share a counter-conspiracy theory of light I’ve dreamed up for you about the basis for people of spirit getting sucked into the Trump camp by a vortex of lies.

See your spiritual Trumpy spirit friends as having volunteered, on a higher level of reality, to partially return to slumber, numb to all the evils of supporting Trump entails, to be secret agents, secret even from themselves, as catalysts of the light and love. Each are then inserted into a very core of a dark consciousness founded on greed and hate which Trump is not the be all and end all, but who simply represents the dark energy rotting America from the inside. Ohom, my ET spirit guide has been telling me since Trump won that he will have an awakening in office. Perhaps the death toll of the virus will be the trigger. Or perhaps Ohom meant Trump’s awakening will be a dark one.

Looking ahead, perhaps we are not social-distancing but socially-hibernating, as I wrote top of the blog. We’re certainly in a chrysalis locked away from one another. Try to see that when we human butterflies emerge from the cocoon of our homes, and hug each other like its D-Day, we are going to bring a whole new consciousness into this glorious world. And Trump’s hate based politics will have no place in that shinny new world. Night.

Support our more important than ever planetary meditations and get yourself some immunity and prosperity boosting tech at CoolestTechEver.com

 

 

 

 

Cosmic Soup

Last night Elizabeth and I fell into bed exhausted from a day of preparing for what seems to be an inevitable shut down on our food supplies. Heck, normal life in general is shutting down in light of what was upgraded to a global pandemic by the World Health Organization this week.

Seeking to calm my nerves after our President’s Rose Garden press conference failed to, just can’t trust a man who lies for sport, I meditated to fall asleep. The last thing I expected was a spiritual message from my subconscious as to a possible meaning of life here on good old planet Earth.

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I breathed deeply and rhythmically, grateful to be virus free. Quick as it came up, I banished a worry about a little tickle in my nose. Soon I was rewarded with a vision of the entire multiverse as a vast globule of, get this,… soup.

Here, on earth I saw it was humanity’s job to collectively generate a bitter ingredient, one made of a dash of mass hysteria and a pinch of sorrow over our the loss of enjoying each other’s daily society. Once our bitter contribution was made to the cosmic soup it was served up to a being so gigantic I could not make out anything but the gaping mouth of a spinning black hole.

Activated to full wakefulness by this cool but strange vision, I slipped from bed and raided the fridge, seeking to nosh on supplies we’d bought that day to tide us over from a food shortage. Call it controlled panic eating.

I made a snack of white mushrooms with the stem sockets filled with mustard and contemplated my vision of the cosmic soup we are all a part of making to create this reality which we both love and hate.

“Was this a vision of the meaning of life?” I wondered for a few munches. “Nah. Seems more like an elaborate cosmic rationalization,” I grumbled to myself, washing the mushrooms down with a Mexican bottle of Coke made with cane sugar. Way better than American corn syrup Coke, but not exactly a healthy dietary habit.

I flashed back earlier shopping of the day when Elizabeth stopped me from grabbing a pack of salami, “Ken, just because we’re stocking up to beat the Coronavirus outbreak does not mean you should abandon your healthy eating habits!”I chuckled about that and agreed Elizabeth was right, grateful I was noshing on mushrooms and not fatty salami.

Content this was enough deep thought and stress eating for one scary day on planet Earth for a man in his sixties, feeling vulnerable after March 2018 heart failure. I slipped back into bed with my love Elizabeth and snuggled up to her warm body. Soon I drifted off to sleep, grateful to have at least one human being to share this strange and bitter time in our world with.

Elizabeth and I wish you and yours perfect health in this crisis. Please check out our cool wellness products we use ourselves at CoolestTechEver.com products page.

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Have a Corona Beer for God’s Sake!

Our president is learning as a failed reassurer in chief — witness as evidence the drop in Corona beer sales and stock market prices — that his pattern lies is backfiring in profound ways.

Nah, who I am kidding? Trump’s not learned a damn thing. In fact, just this past week on FOX Trump proclaimed his HUNCH, before the whole weary world, that the global #Coronavirus death toll is not 3.5% but more like, 1/10 of 1% in his not so humble opinion.

Wow. Who needs the WHO or CDC when you have a president telling fans of his nonsensical approach to reality what they want to hear? Indeed, FOX NEWS and Trump have never been a more lethal combo in telling people on the same segment, experiencing mild cases of the virus (AKA early) to go to work anyways, gosh darn it! Silly old killer virus.

Yeesh. Might our new virus czar Mike Pence finally find the courage to complain about the Trump’s constant undermining? Once again: Nah.

SNL went so far as to spoof FOX’s coverage of the virus as their cold opener:

And if that wasn’t enough gallows humor for one episode…

Well, hope these SNL clips cheered you up a little.  Laughter is the best anti-virus.

And isn’t it nice to know the worst virus can happen when we hang out on the web is a computer virus?

Enjoy a Corona beer for God’s Sake! You have nothing to beer but beer itself.

Wrapping up, if you have a craving for truth after this eternity of a presidency, please consider Biden will undoubtedly tell fewer lies than Trump if elected, but he’s more for 1% than the 99. Go Bernie2020 if the truth matters to you.

A better day is coming

One Theory for Letting Go of the Judgement of Good and Evil

What if the Humanity Was Simply A Species With Many Forms of Conscious Reality Inter-folded Thought Universes, Projected on a 3D Framework Called Earth and All of it In Pain About Lack of Mutual Respect?

Wouldn’t accepting that tricky premise

Make life sweeter, reducing menace?

Hear me out, duality known as brother and sister

For ideas are flowing out of my head like a twister

On a new moon night

When fancy takes flight

On golden Zepher wings

Elizabeth kissed me to a new dimension tonight

A dimension of pure delight

She’ll never know how grateful

I am to have her as my brideful

On Leap Year night

I reach new height

Fashioned of love never-ending

Time and space a bending

From the distance of these mental heights

I see the bubble universes of many mights

A puzzle for humanity unfolding

Gaze past all judging and scolding

Of the Good over Evil’s itch

Of the Poor over the Rich

A rich sorely misunderstood

“How can the Poor not see our good?”

Say the Rich lamenting,

“Of our abundant manifesting!”

Rich people feel they’re better

Because they believe they ARE better

At endless abundance generation

Not seeing the Poor’s love concentration

Leaves them less desirous of things

And more interested in angel wings

In the Poor human’s universe

The Rich are viewed as perverse

After all Jesus said, ” It is easier for a camel

To pass thru the eye of a needle.

Than for a Rich man to enter

The gates of Heaven’s center.”

So the Poor see the Rich as evil and vent

Causing the Rich hate Poor for their judgement

“If you Poor,” they complain,” see not our magnificence

Then relentless attack upon the Poor is our best defense.”

Perhaps, and I don’t really know,

But perhaps, if the rich let go

And stop hurting the poorest

Then perhaps, just perhaps, then mirth

And peace will break out upon the Earth

TRUE peace this world has never seen

Wealth shared freely

With our populace gratefully

Raising up the Rich to new heights

Of adoration Justly without new fights

Bringing us a new way

To live come what may

This ET view of what lies here below

On the earthly realities we each sow

Wishes for peace between all living consciousness

Co-existing harmoniously in loving oneness

A new reality crafted of many dimensions

Living peacefully in good intentions

Many species, human and otherwise

One cannot help surmise

The gummy drop realities

Sparkle in multi-dimensionalities

Good is just a slice of space time

No different than the infinite rest

Evil an angry dimension

One that must learn to keep to itself

Make no more mischief, oh evil elf

Focus love on this ball in space

Where every creed and race

Is dutifully recorded frame by frame

In the Akashic record, name by name

If we work hard enough

If we are tough enough

If we are smart enough

If we are loving enough

We will find a way

And save the day

For this this planet

Made of magical granite

End OHOM (Open Heart Open Mind) transmission.

I want to dedicate this channeled ET poem, maybe a song or film one day, to my love, my wife, my everything Elizabeth Mary England.

I know how hard it will be to live the ideal of this ET poem. But, hey, no one ever said overlapping all the dimensions of this globe’s population, increased to this absurd density, would be easy did they?

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At the Sphinx with Elizabeth with the abundance field enhancing Sensor V medallion by Dr. Flanagan offered at CoolesttechEver.com