Let’s Not Make America 1984 Again

Like many of we independent voters seeking to straddle both sides of the political fence to promote unity and harmony during a dangerous point in history, where the Doomsday Clock has seldom been closer to midnight, I have worries when it comes to President Trump. And the biggest worry I have, with the favorite son of Brooklyn, is his disrespect for the fabric of reality. Namely, the truth.

The events of the past week of the 24/7 Rudy/Trump truth tap dance unreality show helped me see clearly that truth has become public enemy #1 for the Trump team.

Now, we all know politicians in general have a low regard for telling it like it is. But Donald Trump, from day one with his yuge “largest inauguration crowd in history” lie, is breaking all records for lying; telling a whopping 2,140 fact-checked lies in his first year in office according to the Washington Post.

Now, Trump will happily tell you from the rose garden, or via 4 AM tweets, that the Post is lying about Trump’s lying. #WITCHHUNT! He bemoans to his followers it’s is all a #SAD DARK STATE plot by Jeff Bezous, the founder of Amazon, who recently bought the paper that broke Watergate, and seeks to now break Trumpgate.

The term for all is nonsense is “gas lighting”, defined as making someone think they are crazy for not believing your lies, like in this classic gas lighting scene starring Joey Bishop.

Seem familiar when you look at Trump’s enablers Kelly Ann Conway, Rudy Giuliani and Sarah Huckabee with their daily Silly Putty manipulation of reality?

Most politicians lie when there’s some measure of credibility that gives them a chance to get away with it. Trump is different. He lies right to your face, behaving like the king of what is in fact reality. Heaven forbid anyone disagrees with Trump’s lies or he’ll seek to humiliate you on Twitter even if you’re a war hero or Parkland survivor.

Trump is not your typical political liar.  He’s a man in a comb over as fake as he is on a power trip akin to what author George Orwell foresaw in his novel “1984”, written way back in 1949.

I could go on about “1984” parallels in Trump gas lit reality. However, in researching my own meditations on Trump I found this cool article written two days ago by the BBC, one of the go-to media sources in to escape our polarized American media.

Thank you BBC for saving me the brain damage. You see, I am battling an addiction to Trump news. One brought on by 24/7 seesaw game Trump uses to make the media his pawn and gas lighting the hell out of us.

Great Vox video here about which ends with Trump gas lighting a reporter.

1984 is not the kind of book that has a happy ending. It ends with an interrogation where the hero, after torture, is told to see 5 fingers when only 4 are help up.

My fellow Americans, right and left, wake up. Trump is no bumbling liar as the liberal comedians and reporters portray him or a man fighting the deep state as the conservative media portrays him to be, lulling you into a sense of false superiority and security.

In closing, I won’t leave you in fear. That’s the media’s job, right or left. Rather I leave you with the assurance that despite how bad things look right now, the truth is a real thing. And truth always wins out in the end. I’d just like to wake few people up to reduce the pain of having to live through making America 1984 again.

Don’t be a truth ostrich, liberal or conservative, and stick your head in the sand. Don’t be like a lover who wants a cheating mate to tell them sweet little lies like the Fleetwood Mac masterpiece.

Even though the great Fleetwood Mac singer Stevie Nicks wants sweet little lies, the paradox is they how sick she knows it all is in the amazing lyrics.

LITTLE LIES
Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies
(Tell me lies, tell me, tell me lies)
Oh, no, no you can’t disguise
(You can’t disguise, no you can’t disguise)
Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies

{​Bridge}​

[Verse 3: Christine McVie]
If I could turn the page
In time then I’d rearrange
Just a day or two
(Close my, close my, close my eyes)
But I couldn’t find a way
So I’ll settle for one day
To believe in you
(Tell me, tell me, tell me lies)

[Chorus: Christine McVie]
Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies

(Tell me lies, tell me, tell me lies)
Oh, no, no you can’t disguise
(You can’t disguise, no you can’t disguise)
Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies
(Tell me lies, tell me, tell me lies)
Oh, no, no you can’t disguise
(You can’t disguise, no you can’t disguise)

Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies
(Tell me, tell me lies)

Many Americans, Evangelicals in particular, are in this gas lit trap of sweet little lies, hoping their deal with the Trumpster will get them what they want. And to some degree they are… for now. Trump has been fastidious in seeking to keep all his campaign promises. But his masterful magic is those promises of a ideas being good for us were lies to begin with. Yikes.

Watch the truth about Trump, but don’t overdose on the news, right or left. News shows might be out to depress you for the sake of pharmaceutical sponsors out to sell antidepressants. Don’t let Trump news absorb you, as it did for me for so long, and is still doing to some degree as I fight to free my consciousness before your very eyes.

Truth is. we’ve seen enough of Trump’s ways to be wise without further infecting our minds and souls to make our judgement to reject him as worthy leader. Save the anger for the voting booth.  Avoid the trolls. Avoid over posting hate for Trump on your pages. Have faith and support the people fighting for the truth and be patient.

Bide your moment, and when it comes time to vote, vote the truth back into the oval office, Congress, the Senate and local offices. I say local because make no mistake about it, the Koch brothers and others, right and left alike, are working their agenda all the way down to your local dog keeper’s level.

Truth is the oxygen of freedom.

 

Addicted to Trump News? You’re Not Alone.

Hi, my name is Ken Sheetz… and I am a Trumpaholic.

A quick Google search defines addiction as “the fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance, thing, or activity.” And that addictive activity in my case is overdosing on Trump news.

I forgive myself for my strange addiction because we are all living in polarized reality where our media is getting rich as lords pitting liberal versus conservative Americans against one another. Spoon feeding both camp’s deepest and darkest fears about Trump and his followers or opponents.

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Source Mediabiaschart.com. Just using to show the how news categorizes us for marketing purposes. No endorsement or opinion expressed on the placements.

Admitting your addiction to today’s weaponized media is half the cure, so I’ve complied the following handy questionnaire of Trumpaholic symptoms, from both a liberal and conservative POV. May it shine a humorous light on our new national pass time: Trump.

  • Do you read Trump’s daily tweets before MSBC, CNN, Etc. can report what a horrible president Trump is? Or do so before Fox and Breitbart can report what an amazing genius super stable president Trump is? All in an endless electronic circle jerk of full employment for the makers of the news and comedy?
  • Further down the Trump rabbit hole, do you tweet-troll Trump as villain on his POTUS page? Or do you take up your mighty PC as sword to do Twitter battle with the sanctimonious lyin’ Comey fans to defend Trump the hero/king?  Either way, the odds favor that you are having a flame war with a Twitter bot or Russian troll farm employee whose full job it is to sow hatred between we Yanks.
  • Do you follow the ups and downs of Trump’s cabinet and family like a soap opera, or better reality show, but one where the stakes are life and death for us all in hail of nuclear bombs sending us all back to the Stone Age?
  • Does Trump news, bad or good, raise your blood pressure? No shame. Love or hate Trump, adrenaline has no political affiliation. Liberal or conservative the media both sell fear and fear causes adrenaline levels to rise. They know the adrenaline buzz hooks you. Trump news addiction is great for ratings.
  • Do you dream or daydream of advising Trump? Maybe turning his contreversial presidency into a new Camelot to bigly surpass JFK’s?– Get real, my fellow Trump junkie. Trump listens to no one but his own bathroom mirror’s reflection.
  • Are you sometimes jealous Trump was born with a silver spoon in his mouth? Might you stew that no matter how many times he ruins a business he just files for bankruptcy and bounces right back with that smug grin on his face some of us love or  hate?
  • Are you the secret sorcerer who uses Trump memorabilia to cast potent magic spells that have cursed Trump’s presidency? Hopefully you don’t live in Salem. Or are you a gung ho convert, once a Hippie, but now you proudly wear your MAGA hat, following Trump on the road like a Dead Head to his fevered rallies that started 2.75 years ahead of the normal election cycle? If so, feel free to skip the rest of this test and immediately take the Trumpaholic oath below in the comments below.
  • Are you jealous you cannot hop aboard your private Presidential Boeing 747 on a whim, an army FBI agents and your more trusted private bodyguards in tow, then wing way to your Mar-A-Logo Florida palace to golf and hobnob with the super rich and world leaders? Pardon my WTF! But from both a liberal or conservative we need unite if just to put a cap on this taxpayer abuse.
  • Do you secretly wish you too could whisper sweet alternate realities to your loyal voter base who happily let slide the 2,000 sweet little lies that Trump racked up his first year in office? Liberal or conservative, you gotta admit Trump makes Teflon look like a porous substance.
  • Do you steal time from your job to sneak a quick rubberneck on your Mac or PC on the latest Trumpsaster, as though the fate of world depends on your knowing what he just Tweeted at 4AM from his golden toilet?
  • Afterwards, as a Trump chaser, do you annoy all your friends on FB posting the latest doom and gloom story from CNN on how Trump is going to: A. Cause a nuclear war with North Korea, Russia and/or China, B. Inspire a new race of Nazi bullies to take over America and appoint Trump as lifetime Fuhrer, C. Start an American Civil War (Hmm. Most of us don’t care enough to vote and we should worry about a Civil War?), D. Name a KKK member to the Supreme Court, E. Add any number of dark scenarios that your favorite niche news source feeds you, giving you ulcers and high blood pressure. If conservative, flip A though E over.
  • Have you lost a boatload of FB friends crusading either for or against Trump? With any luck, the so called friends you lost are the same idiots dragged you into the Cambridge Analytica mess.
  • Does your stomach growl as you pass your local fat factory, AKA McDonald’s, secretly wishing you could stuff your face with cheese burgers and fires daily in bed watching Fox & Friends reruns of your triumphs? All washed down by a dozen diet Cokes like Trump, and the still only tip the scales at a fit 239 due to your great genes! Or are you’re a health nut, repulsed by the mountains of cholesterol he ingests that would normally kill a horse, while you gain a pound even smelling a single french fry?
  • Have you’ve chuckled, or downright belly laughed, at viral videos of Trump on the tarmac, his combover flying at half mast? Or have you scorned liberals’ cruelty to dare to laugh at your hero desperately trying to look 20 years younger than his true senior self with his amazing comb over; one that keeps him busy half the day?
  • Have you ever compared your hand size to Trump’s? Be honest. Or does it annoy you how low desperate liberals are to dare attack your hero for his modest hand size and conversely penis size?
  • Do you want lock Hillary or Trump up? Or maybe put them both in adjoining cells?
  • Do you boo or cheer when Mueller appears in the news with his endless Russia probe or raid of a Trump crony, while you wish he would just get it the hell over with already?
  • Have you begun a Hail Mary of hope that a porn star might bring down Trump? Or do you agree with Trump’s mouthpiece Giuliani Stormy not half as hot as Melania and could not possibly have had the affair he had Michael Cohen pay $130K with his own money to cover up?  If you are the latter please write me off the blog as I have a great deal on the Brooklyn bridge to sell you shares in.
  • Are you are studying Russian just in case the rumors that Trump’s a Putin puppet are true? Or do you get outraged over “The Russia, Russia Witch hunt” persecution of Trump by our “corrupt” FBI, who are secretly SPYGATE stooges to the those sneaky scumbag Democrats Trump hired who pretend to be Republicans?
  • Have you bought Comey’s new tell-all book and all the others popping up on Amazon like weeds on the Whitehouse lawn, to read or burn them?
  • Are you up on the latest conspiracy theories about the Deep State looking to bump off the Trump like the sneaky bastards did to JFK?
  • Does your brain hurt trying to ethically rationalize Trump’s affairs with porn stars and Playboy models while you find all the scandals vindication for how sleazy you always knew the Trumpster was? Or do you rage at your TV like a poor man’s Alex Jones at the sneaky liberals planting fake affairs #metoo left and right?
  • Do you want to free Melania or worry she vanishes from time to time and secret missions for her man? Or do you realize hers and Trump’s was likely an open marriage from the get-go?
  • Do you watch the bevy of comedians do a daily pile on of every Trump stumble in this marathon of shadenfreude; the German name for joy from other people’s misery? Trump’s become a cottage industry for comics. To name a few: Colbert, Noah, Maher, Fallon (late comer), Badlwin, Conan, Bee, Kimmel, and Oliver. I confess some days at the peak of my addiction I’d watch all the comics back to back. Like death by a thousand comedy cuts, they add up to days of wasted time I’ll never get back.
  • Last, if you have read this far it likely means and answered yes to any question you too are a Trumpaholic. Welcome to Trumpaholics Anonymous!

Now, before you run off in huff about my calling you a Trump addict after we just electronically met, don’t blame yourself. Love or hate him, the Donald is the unquestioned all-time champ for hogging the media spotlight for liberals and conservatives alike. Trump is a Jackson Pollock-like political artist.

Jackson-Pollock-Trump

On any given day, Trump might toss a splash of  red collusion denial across his Twitter canvas, followed by gush of Stormy blue porno scandal, a dash of sunny yellow clown-like lawyers, then finish it all off with a gloop of WITCH HUNT! orange. And before the paint has dried Trump’s onto his next Pollock-like masterpiece.

Meantime, the mass media, comic and straight, liberal and conservative alike, broadcasts everyone of Trump’s crazy “tweet paintings”, pre-packaging what we Trumpaholics should think depending on the shade of our political box they jam us into. Truth is, today’s mass media is not so much “fake news” — a Trump trademark — as hopelessly niched.

Our shark media can never stop swimming and micro-judging everything Trump says or does. Lazy reporters pretend they love or hate what Trump tweets. But if they are honest with themselves, most know journalistic integrity died decades before Trump took the political spotlight.

Remember the Bush era? That’s when media first saw after 911 that fear can fuel the 24/7 news cycle. And presto the media became compliant in the whole WMD scam to launch the Iraq War and embed journalists to bring the horrors to your living room.

After years of Orange Alerts and no sign of WMDs, the American people finally got wise to the media broadcasting Bush’s fear tactics and news ratings fell. How then, the MBA’s pondered, to generate fresh fear mongering for maximum profit? And viola, depending on whether you’re a young gun toting pickup truck driver or an old tree hugger granola eater, Trump was crafted into a demon or angel. All broadcast on a newscast perfectly tailored to scare the living shit out of you.

Too much of anything, good or bad, is unhealthy. Americans have never seen anything as ridiculous and the 24/7 media circus that ruminates over every Trump act and tweet. So I invite you to join me on this blog in cutting way back on Trump news and news in general until we are given more truth.  Face it Mass media is so conflicted it will never give us break. So we have to make one ourselves

In closing, you have a lot to gain watching lots less Trump news. Join me. You will feel lifted. Buh-lieve me!

Note:  Before you comment below I’d love it if you’d please write: Hello.  My name is _______________ and I am a Trumpaholic. Trolls, human or robotic, will be cheerfully escorted from the blog premises.

 

Hawking:What’s South of the South Pole

As someone who has been to Antarctica I can attest to the feeling you’ve reached the end of our reality at the bottom of the world.  There’s nothing south of the south pole. Time feels suspended.  It made this the ideal place to meditate in 2012 for desperately needed shifts in human consciousness for The Coolest Meditation Ever.

Enjoy this new video of Hawking describing what existed before the Big Bang and the role of the south in better understanding.

We’ll miss you Stephen.  You’ve been an inspiration to us all on multidimensional levels.

 

New Tool for the Shift

There’s a lot of darkness in the world these days.  We can’t seem to catch a break from Trump’s scandals and horrors. So good dreams are most welcome, and I want to share a big one to shine some love and light that came my way like a bolt out of the blue yesterday.

In my dream I see a distant giant domed structure much like the one in DC but this one is topped with a slender shaft of light that pokes from the mists against a gorgeous sky.  Fascinated, I will myself to fly to the dome. I land beneath the magical dome. The color palate of the amazing building is pure whites and pale golds.

My love Elizabeth is at my side dressed as a Greek warrior goddess. We are accompanied by our little rescue dog Lincoln, who at my request transforms into a white dragon. He and Elizabeth stand guard for our visit to this power place as I do my meditation.

I reach my hand up toward the gold encrusted dome ceiling. I gently will the shaft of light to me. It gracefully descends to become a staff that’s pointed at both ends, almost like a spear.  I take hold of the staff, feeling a thrill of freshness and light.

Our mission accomplished Lincoln returns to his Chihuahua form and we all vanish before we are noticed.

A better day is coming

I sit up in my Sedona bed, still in a light trance.  I thrill to the feel the 6 foot long staff made of pure white energy. It pulses with vitality in my grip. I realize it’s made of solid energy, as real as the desk I am writing this blog from in the wee hours of Sedona.

Then I hear a sweet but powerful familiar female ET voice I’ve not heard since she gave me the mission for the Antarctica meditations of 2012! Madame Chairwoman of the Galactic Council’s voice echoes in my mind, “Commander Sheetz, it’s good to finally reach you! There is much corruption on your world seeking to halt the shift. Use this staff — named for a sister planet Hipacrin, which survived the same madness that now grips your blue world — as a tool. A gift from the Galactic Council to help bring forth the new era.”

I offer thanks, but the ruler of Galactic Council almost sheepishly adds. “However, to wield this staff — made of pure energy from your North Pole — in planetary meditations, you will need to give up the eating of meat.”

I worry because I’ve tried to be vegetarian three years ago and failed, but I nod my agreement to try to give up eating meat once again.

“Farewell for now then, Commander Sheetz. And remember no meat or the staff of Hipacrin will cease to exist.”

Elizabeth sees me sitting on the edge of the bed and I tell her about this first DreamShield vision in over a year. Our little dog wakes too and now our mission trio is happily reunited in the 3D world.  While we cuddle play with Lincoln, still afraid of me in real life, I tell Elizabeth of how I must give up meat to use the staff. She pulls me into a loving kiss.  A real-life goddess, Elizabeth has been wanting us to go vegetarian almost from she came to join me in Sedona two years ago.  So this is a happy morning.

Thus far I’ve gone my first 36 hours without meat quite easily.  And I’ve already done several powerful planetary meditations with the new white staff of Hipacrin. I am seeing visions of it shattering holds of the dark energy on the shift already. A better day is coming!

If you follow the blog you know, the ETs have been telling me for years that we humans will never evolve to our highest selves if we kill and eat out fellow earth creatures. I hope you’ll join me in at least trying to give up meat. We need to change something in the equation.  A lot of us quietly giving up meat cannot be controlled by the dark status quo.

Yes, abstaining from meat is the white staff of power we can all take up and reduce pollution of world both physically and spiritually.  But however it turns out for any us seeking to kick our meat addiction, no regrets!

 

A STAR TREK PARODY – TRUMP MIND MELD  

Part Two of TRUMP MIND MELD added! Wow. Trump makes a brilliant baddie.

Coolest Meditation Ever

Humor is the best meditation in the face of fear and in that spirit CoolestMeditationEver.com proudly presents…

OUTTER RIM OF THE GALAXY

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 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…

View original post 3,094 more words

The NC-17 President

I just read Michael Wolff’s FIRE AND FURY tell-all. I give it 4 stars. For me, the biggest moral shocker is Wolff’s claim the president of our country takes pride in seducing other men’s wives.

But just I was finishing the book along came the Stormy Daniels scandal!

Screen Shot 2018-01-21 at 9.57.39 PM

Something of a personal and professional confession, I met Stormy Daniels myself in 2006, four years before my 2010 awakening. After three years in Hollywood and not yet producing a hit for my investors, I was desperate to win the good graces of my Chicago backers when along came a top ten ranked line-producer in Hollywood. He had the unlikely idea of making a PG-rated reality show for a mainstream TV audience about the behind the scenes world of Wicked Pictures featuring Stormy’s efforts to become a legit director and invited me to be his producer partner. The chance to work with one of Hollywood’s top producers, a recognized genius, was too tempting so I got on board as a producer and began talks with Wicked Pictures.

Weeks later, I reported to my executive producer that it was clear from my preliminary talks with Stormy and the CEO of Wicked Pictures that these renegade porn pros would never accept the waivers and censoring required to make a clean show out of a dirty business. And, well, I was more than relieved when my report nipped the show I felt dubious about in the bud.

So it felt mighty strange for me to have Stormy be my sixth degree of separation connection to Trump. When I interviewed Stormy in 2006, a strong, sexy and charismatic business woman, I was thankful for the angels watching over me that kept the nature of my connection professional. Whereas, Trump supposedly had sexual relations with Stormy that she described in salacious detail in an IN TOUCH article, effectively making the Trump presidency NC-17 rated.

A fitting end to a tumultuous year one for a man in far over his head morally and intellectually as our shameless president. One has to wonder: How far can the Christian right bend before breaking away from Trump or breaking itself?

To think only one year ago I was in DC with my love and partner Elizabeth England for the inauguration, fearing the worst but hoping for the best for Trump’s presidency. Unfortunately, the worst has happened. Now we set the intention in our meditations for all the darkness coming forth to be converted to light to usher in a golden era of ethics and good conscience in American politics. And the sooner the better.

A STAR TREK PARODY – TRUMP MIND MELD  

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.
Humor is the best meditation in the face of fear and in that spirit CoolestMeditationEver.com proudly presents…
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?