Chapter 6 – Trump’s Worst Nightmare

Radio Show Audio With Score and Sound Effects

Since April 2020 I’ve been developing TRUMP’S FEVER DREAM, hosted temporarily here on my meditation blog, as a warts and all work-in-progress. Warning violent content and explicit language ahead. Whadya expect from a Trump nightmare were still trapped in?

And speaking of nightmares: Trump is about to have a Black Lives Matter nightmare, which of course bears very little similarity to reality.

Chapter 6 – Trump’s Worst Nightmare

Meanwhile, one timeline away, in July of 2020, an alternate universe’s Trump has been struck with a deadly case of Coronavirus and is lost in a delusional series of fever dreams. Kinda like our own Trump does with his eyes wide open.

Dr. Faucci makes a deep incision in Trump’s throat. Blood trickles, crossing the orange tan line where Trump’s bloated chest meets his saggy neck.

Faucci says, “OK, I’ve successfully made the incision to avoid the President’s damaged throat tissue, caused by drinking bleach. Insert the ventilator tube, Dr. Edwards of you will.”

Dr. Edwards takes over the operation and Faucci heads for the door, wiping sweat from his furrowed brow.

Ivanka, sporting the latest Paris fashion Covid mask, rises to her feet along with the mask wearing Jared when Dr. Faucci exits the surgery room. She asks nervously, “Doctor Faucci, is Daddy going to be OK?”

Dr. Faucci sighs deeply and wipes sweat from his forehead, “A tracheotomy is a relatively easy procedure. My real concern is that your father hid his catching virus for too long. And, well, the bleach.”

“That’s no answer, Tony!” blurts Jared, his normally high pitched feeble voice nearly inaudible beneath his red, white and blue mask.

Dr. Faucci ignores Jared and calmly addresses Ivanka, “Your father’s odds of a recovery are quite low. And even if he does ever recover, he may be in a mentally reduced to the condition of a moron —

“Reduced?” mutters Jared,

“- where he can no longer serve as president,” finishes Fauci.

Ivanka spins to pound Jared’s tiny chest.

In the adjacent operating room, dead to the real world, Trump does not stir on the operating table as Dr. Edwards carefully inserts a respirator air tube through Faucci’s tracheotomy incision. The operating room fades from view as the White House Bunker fades into view…

Nestled in the safely of his bunker beneath the White House, the real world a forgotten memory, Trump offers his best presidential poker face as his advisors wrangle with a new series of more violent BLM protests.

Larry Kudlow gasps as on the big screen an array of BLM protestors use a stolen city bus to flatten the White House fence. The angry mob charges the heavily armed Secret Service Agents.

Mark Meadows says, “Relax, Larry.  Our troops learned in Portland how to put these dogs to sleep.”

“Relax? This is revolution! And we all know what happens to the player in an old regime, especially one as cruel as ours,” croaks Larry.

Trump laughs at Larry and says, “Chill, Larry. Theses walls of the vault are 6 feet thick, or something like that kinda thickness. Tremendously thick. And we have all the comforts of home here. The best champagne.  The best caviar.”

On screen the Federal Troops lay down their weapons as the angry mob races past them.

“What in Holy Hell?!” shouts Trump, cracking one of TV screens with his tiny fists.

The Director of the Secretive Service, James Murray, calmly says to the shocked Trump, “Not to worry, sir. Like you just said, in your genius way, the protesters cannot possibly reach us down here.”

“Protest? You call this fucking protest.?” bellows Trump.

“Look, sir. The lowlifes have zero chance!” shouts Stephen Miller, making a Nazi salute, which he fakes into a stretch.

“Let’s get back to talking about my fantastic Mt. Rushmore monument to the greatest presidency ever! Mine! Tell me about getting head, Kayleigh.”

The men all laugh at Trump’s sexist joke, while Kayleigh does her best to hide her disgust. She rolls over a model of Mt Rushmore into the bunker conference room. “Mr. President, I’m afraid the Rushmore survey ream has determined that there is not enough structural integrity to the surrounding rock to add your incredible face.”

“I am not happy about this, Kayleigh!” grumps Trump, folding his arms across his big belly.

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“It’s OK, Mr. President. We have a solution…” Kayleigh loses her train of thought as on the big screen protestors fall and die under heavy gunfire from a more resistant line of White House defense. But an endless stream bat wielding protestors take their place in the bloody battle for the White House above.

“Go on Kayleigh. Don’t worry about the losers up there. Nigger scum,” snarls Trump.

“Well I see a lot of white people with these guys,” says Kudlow.

“The losers can’t reach us. Go on, Kayleigh. Give me some head!” chuckles Trump.

Mastering her outrage Kayleigh says, “Well, it’s simple. All we have to do is re-chisel one of the four heads into your amazing image. All that remains is for you to pick who to replace with your handsome face. Who shall it be, Mr. President, Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt or Lincoln, sir?”

Trump relishes at this historic decision making moment, spinning around and around in his larger life leather chair, and finally decreeing,”Q-Anon calls me the greatest civil rights leader of all time. Lowest unemployment for Blacks ever. Well, before the Covid started killing them off like flies. So I pick to replace the head of Abraham Lincoln head with mine. My base will love it and my haters can eat shit and die.”

Meadows offers obsequiously, “Brilliant as always, sir!  It’s true you have supplanted Lincoln in the hearts of the people after all!”

The gathering of white men, plus one frustrated woman in Kayleigh, give Trump a standing ovation.

For a split-second Trump is back in the real world. Trump’s heartbeat stops on the monitor. Dr. Fauci takes up shock paddles and shouts, “Clear!” and jolts Donald Trump.

Shocked back into his bunker fever dream, Trump points at the security monitor and bellows, “What?! Those rioters, they’re in my Oval office!”

Trump and his team watch helplessly as the security TV screen shows a rush of protestors of all races and creeds swarming into the Oval Office

Trump demands, “Murray, set off the self-destrust bomb and blow the fucking Antifa anarchists off the face of the earth!”

Murray pleadingly turns to Meadows, who coldly nods for him to carry out Trump’s command. “You heard the president.”

Turning to the monitors, where the Resolute Desk is being set aflame, Murray anguishes and finally croaks, “I respectfully decline to carry out your orders to blow up the protestors, sir. You have my resignation.”

Trump spins to Defense Secretary Esper and roars, “Esper, wipe out these fucking terrorists!”

“These are American citizen’s, Mr. President. They can’t reach us in here. I respectfully refuse and resign as well,”

“Where are my Portland shock and awe troops?!” shouts Miller.

“In transit to Milwaukee I believe,” answers Meadows.

“Well, get them here to DC pronto! — Seen this Tweet?” says Trump, jamming a cell phone in Miller’s sweaty face.

The gaggle white men crowd around Trump’s cell phone that reads:

Lynch the #BunkerBaby!”

“The bastards are calling me BunkerBaby! Even after I crushed them in Lafayette Square!”

“Um, my mom taught me sticks and stones may break –”, says Robert Tulsa before he’s cut off.

“Shut the fuck up! Sergeant Cosco, escort these traitors my bunker!” shouts Trump pointing at the TV screen.

“Name’s Tulsa. Mr. President, and I am afraid Mr. Esper and Mr. Murray cannot leave as we are sealed in.”

“Look, COSCO. No one’s in the hallway!” shouts Trump pointing at the TV screen.

“But, sir, the 2 ton door operates slowly, by the time we see rioters we could be….”

“Break the seal!” demands Trump.

“– fucked.” finishes Sergeant Tulsa. “The door moves slowly. You could be killing us all.”

Trump defiantly pushes the open button and gloats, “Fuck off. You’re Black. Obviously, you’re in on this with them. You want something done right you gotta, um, something something or other.”

Miller takes charge, “Seargent, remove, Esper and Murray from my bunker or you’re up for a firing squad!”

“Pussy. I told ya. Look. It’s all clear.” gloats Trump. “You see. You’ve got nothing to fear but it something… We have nothing to fear but, ah.. Oh, fuck it!”

Gunfire erupts as mob of rioters race up the long hall for the bunker door.

“Seal the bunker! Seal the bunker!” shouts Trump.

BANG! Sergeant Tulsa falls to the marble floor, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

Kayliegh shouts to the mob, “Power to the people! I am not with the dictator, sexist, racist Trump anymore! I’m free! Yay!”

The laughing protestors get such a kick out of Trump’s sad reaction to Kayleigh’s betrayal they let her slip away.

An angry Black man races up to a screaming Trump and raises a bloody hatchet.

Trump begs on his knees, “Black lives matter!  Praise Jesus! Black lives matter! Spare me! I’ll sign any law you want!”

Trump curls into a ball and weeps like a baby sucking his thumbs, eyes slammed shut, waiting for a death blow.

The angry black man laughs saying, “Pathetic!” He plants the axe in Trump’s throat.  Exactly where the incision in the real world. Blood gushes and all goes black.  Faintly, the beep of a life monitor gets louder and Trump’s eyes flicker open.

Thrilled to be back in the real world where he is on life support, Trump cracks open his eyes to see his loyal personal Black attendant Robert reading the newspaper beside his hospital bed. Trump’s bloodshot feverish eyes close.

We see Robert’s Washington Post’s headline reads:

PRESIDENT CONTRACTS CORONA VIRUS. LIFE HANGS BY A THREAD!

To be continued in Chapter 7 – Weekend at Trumpies

Special thanks to my wife Elizabeth for playing Kayleigh and Ivanka.

As always my handy disclaimer that this is of course a work of pure fiction about an alternate universe. It is in no way a true reflection of the kind and compassionate real-life Donald Trump, and his charming GOP enablers, or for that matter, the supposed good guys in this dark comedic tale.

Phew. It takes months to make these audio recordings. Donate at the link below to keep my one of a kind quantum space time meditational auditory entertainment and enlightening content flowing.

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Trump the Golden Calf

Can you feel it? America is having the saddest 4th of July weekend ever.

Most of all we Yankee Doddle Doers are sad to be leading the developed nations, and many of the undeveloped nations of the world, in the outbreak of Covid-19 and resulting deaths. And for reality deniers like our divider in chief, the 19 stands for 2019, the fateful year when the corona virus that would knock America on its fast food inflamed fat ass like an asteroid strike hit. Only this asteroid hit is like watching an amateur soccer match at 1000 frames per second.

My heart sank Friday night as I watched the Trump speech at Rushmore on FOX NEWS. Basically, Trump took a page from one his favorite books, this according to Ivana’s divorce testimony, MEIN KAMPF. Watching Trump insanely trying to link Mt. Rushmore to the protection of Confederate statues, erected as a hostile subjugating message to African Americans during the Jim Crow and anti-civil rights eras, was physically and spiritually nauseating. Perhaps knowing he’s lost the elections — if it’s done legally — Trump’s speech, surely written by White Supremacist Stephen Miller, sought to drive a wedge of lies deep into the hearts and souls of his far-right base proclaiming, “If Trump can’t have America no one will!”

Mt Rushmore

As I dictated pained observations into my phone recorder, while the crowd of unmasked super spreaders cheered, my wife Elizabeth did financial reports for film funding magicians FROM THE HEART PRODUCTIONS, while keeping half an eye on Trump. Alas, such multi-tasking is not possible for me. It was then we both noticed Trumps makeup had more gold coloration in his bronzer than usual.

Gold Calf

I sighed to Elizabeth, “Trump’s made himself into a golden god for his peeps. How I wish his brainwashed and conned fans could see he’s more like the golden calf false idol in the Bible that the lost followers of Moses fell for.” And the more I thought of it, the more I could see the sadness of what’s happened to the evangelical and New Age community can be likened to worshiping that famed false golden calf come to life. And a fatted calf at that.

A little background how I got here. I’ve enjoyed the New Age movement since writing a screenplay back around the turn of the millennium for a pilot called EVERYTHING I WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT LIFE I LEARNED FROM SITCOMS.  The sitcom, written with my fiancee of the time a successful Canadian filmmaker and one of the top ten line producers in Hollwyood, centers on my fictional creation Dr. Robert Trainer, an alternative medicine hypnotherapist who sends people into old TV sitcoms to role play with the greats of black and white broadcasts that live on in our collective consciousness. TV and radio waves from these old shows is even now rippling out into deep space and they, for good or ill, will be some of the first images of use received by alien cultures of who we are.

Unfortunately, the bound to be a hit pilot we wrote never got off the launch pad because the networks deemed it a rights clearance nightmare. I argued it would be worth the trouble, but Hollywood’s elite are not into debates. As it turned out my study of the New Age movement did peak my curiosity in the Shift as it was called back them and its eccentric and beautiful people. Several years later I became fully exposed to the New Age community firsthand in in my film work during the depths of the Great Recession of 2008-2012. It was then that I made some real life New Age friends while filming some of the top players LA’s spirit community. I liked a lot of what they said about the future we were heading.  Ah, those were the good old days. Today the New Age community like the rest of America is split into Trump supporters and those of us how feel we are holding to the original values of a better tomorrow for everyone regardless of race or creed.

Eventually, I had my own New Age awakening while on film assignment in 2010 in Italy. I swear there was booze or drugs of any kind involved when I saw three angels that fateful May 5th. These were 7 foot tall blue ET angels to be precise.  This power and majesty that’s never left me in awe, all happened before my eyes alone in a yoga hall during a mass healing from Gulia of Santa Maria Del Sol. And I have been connecting to these thought traveling ETs for over 10 years now, and these three beings call themselves Ohom, an acronym for Open Hear Open Mind.

As always, I allow the possibility that Ohom, who I see at times as my higher hive self, is simply my own powerful and highly playful imagination at work. You see, I am not one of those New Agers who pretend to know it all. In fact, I really don’t call myself a New Ager as my consciousness work is a of blend of the old world and the new to come. Awakening at age 57 explains part of that fact. Plus what I feel is the earth manifesting a new group of trustworthy elders for the awakening of humanity.

I don’t really know or pretend to what my awakening is all about. One where I learned the power of love and brotherhood. I only know I am awake to the plight of humanity’s enslavement to the almighty dollar, a world choking on greed and pollution, a dumbed-down intellect that can no longer see truth, and that I am here to make my own small contribution to the real Great Awakening. Yes, the real Great Awakening, not the catchy title the Q psyop has sought to steal for it’s own nafarious purposes.

Looking on the bright and dark side of these strange times both at once, there’s little reason to fear a full blown civil war in a country that’s still so subservient to the ways of the white patriarchy. Nope, we Yanks are too comfortable, left and right, with our luxuries and toys to actually rebel IMHO.

Nor do I believe that violence ever leads to good. Still, Elizabeth and I support the imperfect #BlackLivesMatter with donations and free social media from BuzzBroz because our police need to rise to serving people of all colors and creed equally. In the words of the great Martin Luther King…

“We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor, it must be demanded by the oppressed.

The BLM protests are forcing long overdue change to happen. That change is small now but will grow greatly if the GOP can be pushed aside in the vote come November. Today’s protests are largely peaceful. Yes, things have gotten out of control at times. But an open heart will tell you that’s understandable given our black brothers and sisters seek to overcome 400 years a racial repression by our white Christian patriarchy. This generates a black anger that’s nearly impossible to contain.

Despite my firm belief that America is not heading for a new civil war some Q and Trump people want,  make no mistake that the agitators both within and without the country are a danger to the heart and soul of this country.

My advice as a newly awakened elder is that instead of overly chastising our brothers and sisters in the New Age and evangelical community, allowing that some chastising is indeed needed, have heart and show some love by helping them accept and understand  that they are lost in the flood of Russian, Chinese, and domestic Trump pysop.

Indeed, to protect our own Trump rejecting minds, while people we’ve adored in the New Age movement have been converted into ardent Trump and conspiracy theory share-bots, we must pare our Facebook pages down to as small a Trump contingent as possible, This lest we too be subject to the weapons grade social media that Mark Zuckerberg and his ilk are virtually doing nothing to prevent. See my post here on the blog FIGHT THE PSYOP to get ten tips on protecting your mind and spirit.

My love Elizabeth, a 17-year vet, a New Ager with values close to my own, has been in shock and dismay all week that even after the horrific revelation that Trump knew of a bounty on American Troops, and that, in perfect alignment with Putin and not his own intelligence, after a weekend of golf, proclaimed it’s all a hoax anyways. Despite all this Elizabeth was devastated that some of her dear New Age friends have not budged in their support of Trump.  Seems nothing short of nuke on New York might sway people from their crazy uncle in office. Nah, probably not at this point.

If Trump Nuked New York

I theorize that the common denominator from what I see on social media is that there are a large number of anti-vax players in the New Age community and their passion for that cause that has many New Agers under Trump’s endless Russian style fire hosing. What each lose sight of is that Faustian bargains never generate good karma points or final outcomes.

Trump’s bravado, hollow jingoistic slogans, will not bring this country out of it’s dark night of soul. I invite you to join me and Elizabeth in setting the intention in the collective consciousness for a true awakening! Let’s make this time a truly great awakening grounded in the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness and dedicated the principle that all men are created equal.

Happy 4th of July, whether it’s holiday for you or not.  And here are some great speeches in case you’ve forgotten what good leaders sound like.

 

Looking For Peace? Go Within…

Hope this short but sweet post finds you and your loved ones well in every way.

Peace. We all crave it. But in an era when our sick establishment seeks to “dominate” peaceful BLM protesting over George Floyd wrongful death and demanding change, smack in the midst of a pandemic, peace seems more elusive than ever.

The answer is, as it was before all this trouble came blessedly to dominate the news cycle, meditation.  Here’s a great look at the peace meditation brings from acclaimed filmmaker Dave Lynch. Watch the entire 19:50 video. You’ll be glad you did.

Peace…

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