I refer of course to my 24 cosmic meditations of 2012 in Antarctica. One for each time zone of the world setting quantum intentions to end racism, neglect, dependency on oil, war, and more.
Well, you take all the cool tools you used as crwod funding perks to get yourself to Antarctica in 2012 made by the most famous scientist of the conscious community — invented your biggest backer world-famed LIFE MAGAZINE featured Dr. Patrick Flanagan — and you create a hit web series about the scientist that gets 26 million views on Youtube. And then you gather over 100 Youtube hit videos into one groundbreaking documentary called THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS.
Then using this cool tech you meditate to attract the mate of your dreams into your life, the who your meditations in Antarctica told you to marry, Elizabeth England. And then you and she marry and form a online business called CoolestTechEver.com that attracts other great product makers like Jonathan Goldman and iTorus and it becomes a global success that supports your martial bliss.
Visit CoolestTechEver.com today, where bring coolest tech on earth to top your life in cool ways you never dreamed of.
Hey there, fellow comedy enthusiasts and political satire lovers! I’m Ken Sheetz, a not so famous comic, when I am not blogging and traveling the world for quantum meditation all the way from Egypt and Antarctica, who has been navigating the vast world of entertainment, from producing world-class content for PBS to churning out hundred of short films and documentaries with over 40 million views of my YouTube work since 2008. But today I’m here to talk about something that’s been on everyone’s radar – the Writers Guild of America (WGA) and Screen Actors Guild (SAG) strikes – and how folks like me who love democracy feel obligated to up to the plate to fill the void with much-needed political comedy.
A Righteous Battle for Fairness
Since May, the WGA and SAG strikes have been making righteous waves in an entertainment industry suffering from the same billionaire bullies afflicting all areas of our nation’s great economy with their unbridled greed. These strikes are all about superb talent demanding fair compensation, better working conditions, and a more inclusive and equitable space for all creatives, as well as protection for job replacement by AI. As an independent filmmaker of 26 years, that followed a highly successful 25 years commercial real estate career that culminated in my building a $162 million skyscraper alongside Oprah’s Harpo Studios before leaving it all behind to be a filmmaker, who’s seen firsthand the effort that goes into creating captivating content, I wholeheartedly support the strikers.
Filling the Void with Humor: Enter “TrumpsFeverDream.com”
But with late-night shows going on hiatus due to the strikes, there’s a noticeable gap in the realm of political satire at a time where we all desperately need it as a gentle weapon in the fight to save democracy. That’s where I come in. You might know me from my work on PBS or my myriad YouTube projects, but one thing you might not be aware of is my ongoing satirical journey called “Trumps Fever Dream.” To think it all began on this meditation blog catered to the conscious movement that’s been highly targeted for dangerous brainwashing my Trump and his MAGA, Q and Russian backers. This brand political humor targeted to appeal to the country as whole, in addition to the beautiful niche community of this meditation blog. Get ready for an irreverent science fiction dark comedy take on the Donald Trump of another universe where karma really is a bitch. Hence the new blog TrumpsFeverDream.com where I am min the process of launching season 3 and reposting seasons 1 &2!
This pet project, to which my beautiful wife lends her considerable talents to as well, as an editors of books and a talented amateur actor, has been my way of poking fun at the very former President since 2020. I began “Trump Fever Dream” in the depths of Covid that sadly separated my wife and I from many people in the New Age world. We hope once the grip if Trumpism has been defeated once and for all to reconnect. Yeah, we’re both optimists. Me more so than my wife who has 17 years of military service that makes her more skeptical.
Fun fact: My first comedy writing work where I trained and cut my professional teeth on was for a pilot about a New Age healer who sent people via VR into old sitcoms. I wrote itin 1998 with one of the top ten line producers in Hollywood sitcoms, John Amodeo,and an award winning Canadian producer named, Nicolette Saina. It’s called EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW ABOUT LIFE I LEARNED FROM SITCOMS. Studios loved it but were scared off by the enormous job of rights clearances. I’ve also written over a dozen comedy screenplays during the ten years I lived in worked in Hollywood. None have been produced.. yet. Just how tough it is to make it in Hollywood is the topic of my documentary DISCOVER ME. Here’s free screening of the film I completed in 2012.
So for decades I’ve been using satire to offer a fresh perspective on entertainment and politics when I am not dreaming up far out meditations like this one in Antarctica.
Back to politics. Be they of the right or the left, I’ve skewered all politicians fequally for well over a decade. But in 2015 when Trump glided down the escalator to spew racism my satire took a more urgent turn to fight against a corrupted and the dangerous right-wing fascist movement Trump has fostered. Then in 2020, as tens of thousand of Americans began to die needlessly I redoubled my efforts with the birth of my absurd story of the Trump of another universe. The episodes are no longer available here on this meditation blog they were born on because I want to stay focused on the coolest meditations ever here.
Introducing “MAR A LAGO PRISON”: A New Season in Satire
And now, I’m excited to share a new episode in this satirical journey. Drumroll, please! Tune into our new YouTube.com/@trumpsfeverdream channel today at 5 PM, and it’s called “MAR A LAGO PRISON.” Season 3 promises you even more out-of-the-box political satire that offers an alternative lens through which to view today’s political landscape. Something we’re all missing during the righteous WGA and SAG strike.
With the strikes causing a pause in the usual comedic routine as we miss the work of the greats like Colbert, Kimmel, Meyers and more, it’s important for smaller comics like me to step up and keep the political conversation going through humor. It’s not about replacing late-night shows, I could never offer that without a pro WGA writing staff or SAG actors, but I am dedicated to adding my unique voice and the voice of my love and partner in all things Elizabeth England to the web’s mix and continuing the tradition of political satire that we all love. and need to cope. Indeed, laughter is the best medicine against Trump’s bad leadership that causing so much tension in this nation and this world.
Conclusion: Laughter, Reflection, and Moving Forward
So, mark your calendars for 5 PM today, grab some popcorn, and let’s dive into this new chapter of political comedy. Your support means the world to me, and together, we’ll keep the laughter flowing and the discussions alive. Listen to MAR A LAGO PRISON right here and subscribe on YouTube to get more of season three. We’ll be posting new episodes twice a month!
It’s with great pleasure I present a post from a woman I am honored to call my wife and partner in all things. As a 14-year veteran of U.S. Army’s military intelligence and special operations, Elizabeth speaks out about the Russian and GOP psyop we are fighting with an authority seldom found on the web. She served during Operations Urgent Fury, the invasion of Panama, Just Cause, Uphold Democracy, Desert Storm and Desert Shield. Elizabeth also served three years as a Chaplain’s assistant to the National Guard during the war in Afghanistan, the War On Terror and Operation Iraqi Freedom.
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Third from left Sargent Elizabeth England
Lies of the Christian Patriarchy – By Elizabeth England
When I hear all lives matter in response to Black Lives matter it’s like telling me all houses matter and refusing to help my black friend put out his house on fire, because he’s not white. Black lives have been attacked since wicked Christian men kidnapped their African ancestors from their homes, sailed them a thousand miles away in chains, and sold them to wicked Christian slave owners. The racists say this is a white Christian nation. Their Bible provides guidance on how to treat slaves and does not condemn slavery as an abomination.
For centuries, white Christians have forced their religion on subjugated populations, ensuring they are under the thumbs of the powerful Christian God with slavery intact and the Bible revered by the enslaved. Imagine when famous Christian explorers like Columbus showed up to the indigenous peoples and forced acceptance of Christianity on pain of death. Or when the Catholic church used their religious schools on reservations to select human subjects for barbaric medical research. Jesus didn’t speak out against slavery. When you ask a racist white Christian what would Jesus do, well, it doesn’t include ending institutionalized ways to suppress and enslave others through legal and economic systems. They truly believe it’s their ‘right’ to suppress and enslave others and the bible gives it the seal of approval.
That’s embedded in the system so subtlety. And if, like the ‘born-again’ Christians say, you confess Jesus as your Lord and Savior, you really don’t have to worry about sin because Jesus died on the cross to remove the ‘wages of sin,’ or death, promising you everlasting forgiveness and life in heaven. Not here but after you die. Always wondered about why you have to die to experience heaven? So ‘if’ slavery is a sin, and if you’re ‘born again,’ you still have the free pass to heaven even if you are a predator upon other human beings.
The church has become the protector of child molesters and other monumentally wicked leaders across the world. It makes me cringe when I hear my white friends say, ‘But me, I’m not racist and don’t all lives matter?’ The wicked precepts that have shaped our culture are invisible to most whites. And now with the Trump cult they have their hero who supports racism and sexism, or the ‘status quo.’ But the not so subtle system of cultural and economic enslavement isn’t there only for African Americans and immigrants.
Most women recall when they figured out, probably as a child, that their lives would be different than boys in so many dangerous, minimizing and challenging ways. Can you imagine—mothers have been having ‘the talk’ with their daughters for thousands of years? And mothers have looked the other way for thousands of years ‘to save lives.’ The alternative of demanding change would come with too high a price: her life. Females must be careful because they are often targets of discrimination and violence. Every woman knows she will be challenged personally with (the same primitive consciousness as racism that sees their) discrimination of women as the right of a man and in some cases this will be brutal. And don’t get me started on how our culture treats children, homeless, mentally ill and the vulnerable. So you’re going to fight for this system, the American way, that divides up the vulnerable?
The layers of discrimination begin:white supremacist, in this shit show, you have to hold on tight to you’re only advantage: being white in a racist country. Being poor, female and white is ‘better’ than being black. Huh? And if you’re a white male, you’ve got a golden ticket. If you’re a black or brown woman, well, my heart cries for the discrimination you must survive. And then we get to children…who lose all around in this system. No wonder our streets are filled with young people who’ve figured out they really don’t want this legacy.
So let’s get real. Do you think your rights are safe in this system? No one’s rights will be safe until we protect and care for everyone. But you’ll ask, how do we pay for that? Don’t ask me that when a couple of dozen people hoard more wealth than the other 330 million of us and we keep bailing big business out from their self-destructive and predatory practices, keep giving them the advantage of our tax laws while they do things that hurt our people, hurt the country. Maybe you’ll tell me the stock market shows the economy is great. Great for who? The banks, big pharma, stockbrokerages and insurance companies? Really? Economic layers of discrimination are embedded at every level to keep everyone in line. Our system even targets vulnerable populations. Our founders were slaveowners. Yup, the bible–racist and sexist and pro-slavery. And the nation’s founders–racist, sexist and wealthy through the labors of slaves. That’s the mindset of colonialism that we live in and that some of our politicians are clinging to.
When I served in the military I didn’t get all this. I was so idealistic and patriotic and I joined because I wanted to ‘walk my talk’ for democracy and the ‘’American dream.’ The richness and darkness of that experience served to awaken me to racism and sexism and corporate greed. After a decade and a half in the military it was obvious we were the blood and muscle behind so much greed, suppression and senseless violence on foreign soil, on women and children, all accepted ascollateral damage of our ‘pro-democracy policy.’ A big lie to cover the theft of natural resources and cultural treasures of non-white peoples. Trump is a symptom of our country’s worst nature, an abomination to the ideals that led me to love the country and take my oath to the Constitution: to defend it against enemies foreign and domestic. By his actions I see Trump as a threat to the Constitution. He’s certainly a threat to American military service members with his affinity to despots like Putin, Xi, Kim Jong-Il, Prince Mohammad bin Salman, Erdogan…
I pray to see our country working toward perfecting the union aspired to in the Constitution and rising above the inhumanity of its founders, many of whom, like Franklin and (sort of) Washington were troubled by slavery and its conflict with the un-Christian ideals of the Constitution. Thank goodness the founders stepped beyond their religious dogma and gave us universally righteous philosophies in the Constitution securing it as one of greatest documents ever written. My soul is crying for patriots and citizens to abolish racism, sexism, suppression, discrimination and economic enslavement of the people. I’m praying we are inspired in America to hold to our Constitution to create the change we need for a golden age.
Understand, there is a battle for our minds on social media. The Russian intelligence masters are experts at the ‘long game,’ and they are elated at the hyperspeed of their success in America using our fabulous creation of social media against us to speed their long-range goal of destabilizing our country. They are using psychological operations (psyops) to change the leadership of our country with weapons-grade propaganda. And they know who to target using Facebook data. Look it up. It’s a BIG part of foreign intelligence operations now. And greedy, unethical businesses (like Zuckerberg’s, Trump’s and Bezos’), politicians like McConnell, and greedy corporate lobbyists will piggy back on the manufactured chaos for their own benefit. It’s hard not to be a pawn, isn’t it?
My hope in writing this is to help others discern the psychological operations, a long-standing and secretive military specialty. Open-minded, suspicious, fearful, born-again Christian, spiritual, yoga fan, raw/organic foodies, non-GMOers, anti-vaxers, ET and disclosure, flat earthers, the list goes on of the interest groups and people targeted by psyop propaganda using social media ads. Q is a psyop that targets me and many of my friends. Trump is a useful asset to Russian intelligence, whether it’s purposeful or ignorant, controlled through money or sex or maybe just his admiration of despotism. Here’s a classic psyop method: flood the public with conflicting info to create confusion about the truth and repeat useful lies until they are accepted as truth. Sound familiar? That’s Trumps daily job. Say something outrageous, trot out your staff to deny or defend it, then deny again, claim it was a joke or some other smokescreen to ensure people will fight about what’s true and who to believe.
I urge you to take control of the battle for your mind. Remove the blinders to racism, sexism and the psyops trying to convince you they aren’t real. Trump is the hero of white, Christian racists who value poverty, racism and sexism to maintain the status quo and their power. They take more profits than they’d need for a hundred lifetimes and leave the rest of us without even our fair share of the fruits of our labors.
The pandemic is real. Racism is real. Sexism is real. It’s time to get real and take back your mind and our country. We are blessed to have inspiring and heroic examples of fearlessness from young women in our time. The world needs the balance of strong people, especially empowered women, to bring collaboration, compassion and care to communities and nations. Let’s see all women and children raised up and cared for as precious. Let’s see children treasured and nurtured into great people. Let’s stand up for our black American brothers and sisters, end their torture and say because Black Lives Matter in our America. Let’s stand up for our first people, end their torture and say Native Lives Matter in our America. Let’s stand up for our LGBTQ brothers and sisters and say LGBTQ Lives Matter in America. Let us be judged by the content of our character, not our appearance, sex, or preferences. Let it be.
Me in my favorite movie WHAT DREAMS MAY COME. Big Hi to Barney Hollywood’s most amazing producer
Happy 9.9.19, Surface Dwellers! After some coaxing, because for those of us who still miss Robin on a regular basis I will imagine he’s our guest blogger.
Hey, dreamers! My name when I walked the earth was Robin Williams. I was just a regular Joe from Chicago who, due to an intense funny bone, made a fortune and flew in the same private jet skies as the richest a-holes wrecking the planet.
POP QUIZ: What number am I thinking about between 121212 and 121214?
If you guessed 121213 you’re ready to learn lesson 3 of how to travel faster than the speed of light. On the other hand if you didn’t guess 121213 you suck at math like me. In any case, if you haven’t done so as yet, please read part one and two first if you know what’s good for you.
All aboard the Williams Express! Let’s begin.
I, the being FKA Robin Williams, am hovering in wispy spirit form over a beautiful coral reef off the big island of Hawaii. Now, if you traveled from the sun to this reef at the speed of light it would take you 8 minutes and 17 seconds to reach me. But in reading the proceeding sentence it took you only a few seconds to make the journey in your mind’s eye.
Thought is indeed faster than the speed of light. Ken’s taught you that nugget already. But as you see my spirit floating above the Pacific surf and… Tada!… you also see that thought is more potent than the speed of light for imagineering new realities.
After my brief but beautiful afterlives these past, weird and wonderful as it gets, five years, first as a blue whale, then as a blue dolphin and last as a killer whale, I’ve finally chosen my next reincarnation. Hint it’s a part I played in my life on earth. Don’t skip ahead. That’s cheating, naughty readers.
Very cool of Ken to let me hang out in his big heart for a few weeks while I make up my spirit mind. And now to be able hang out with all of you readers here on the DreamShield blog my coolest visitation ever. The internet is a truly amazing gift for forging new conscious connections. But it’s force that’s being abused by some greedy people. Yeah, I’m looking at you Zuckerberg.
To those in the house reading the first direct blog by your ghost host with most today and wondering how I can fit comfortably into Ken’s heart space, hear my voice in your mind’s ear, imitating Albert Einstein, as I did in the movie AI “In spirit form, you zee, vee humans don’t take up too much space. Zere’s a kingdom in each heart and a lot of space on zee quantum subatomic level.”
Now hear me slip in John Wayne’s voice, “So, ya see pard, there’s plenty of room in your hearts to have spirit folk share adventures if you want them. Ya ha.”
One day earlier this week, while Ken and Elizabeth hike to a swim in the creek at Red Rock state park, I invite some of my ocean friends to swim along in Ken’s auric field. All with his permission of course.
Some sea tourists come from my 2014-2017 blue whale pod. Some come from the krill we ate, “Urp!” Pardon me. Some come from my 2017-2018 blue dolphin pod and the wide variety of fish we ate, yum. Some come from the octopi clan. Last come my 2018-2019 pod of killer whales. All we killer whales were killed when global warming coaxed us into swimming too far north and the Arctic ice closed behind us. Whales don’t make good pancakes.
Loving our Sensor V medallions. Get you own at CoolestTechEver.com Patrick Flanagan page!
So there I am a couple of days ago hiking along with Ken in the red rocks of Sedona, suspended inside an aquatic menagerie that only Ken can see. Suspended in miniature in the fresh Sedona morning air, swimming about Ken’s auric field in a 9 foot spherical radius.
Always low key about his psychic gifts because of an Irish Grandmother who warned little Ken he’d end up in the looney bin if he shared his visions, Ken speaks to my aquatic band of sea tourist telepathically.
He relays our wonder at the wonders of the surface world in real time to his love Elizabeth. She has the jitters because she’s going to marry Ken on 9.19.19 and his amplified psychic powers since the Lion’s gate are a bit unnerving.
So Ken keeps it cool reporting to Elizabeth on my turning him into a human Carnival Cruise while he happily swims in the cold fresh water creek. We sea tourist spin between the creek and the air in Ken’s energy field, telepathically shouting, “Wee!”
Most of my sea pals have never incarnated on the surface of Gaia. So their little flippers are all a flutter by of all things Sedona’s dry red dirt along the banks of the creek. Huh. I thought it would be trees my sea mates would be amazed by. But the minerals and dryness of the red dirt are like nothing their little sea eyes have ever beheld. The rich red soil sparkles in the sun like tiny diamonds and rubies. Land. Dry land.
Anyways, a funny thing happens to me in the sacred Oak Creek where the Hopi and other tribes once thrived. A nurse shark swim up to me in the next door water molecule . The dapper looking shark speaks in a thick Jersey accent, “Name’s Jerry. Nice of of you to take me and your sea clan to visit your old surface world, Robin.”
“My pleasure, Jerry. — Hey, man, sorry I ate you when I was a killer whale.” I add sheepishly.
“No sweat. Killer’s gotta kill. Hey, I should know! — Word from your arctic pod is you’re kinda stuck about what you next life should be?” says Jerry, flashing three rows of nurse shark teeth.
“Yup.”
“Lemmie help. Tell me about your last three incarnations,” says Jerry the nurse shark earnestly.
“What are you a shark or a shrink, Jerry?”
“What’s a shrink?” asks the puzzled nurse shark.
“Long human story. Let’s just say I had a school of shrinks in my last life as Robin Fucking Williams.”
My pale reflection stares back at me on Jerry big eye. Huh. Between lives I look like I did at about age 27. Back when I played Mork on a thing called ABC. So my work as the joie de vivre energy of Robin Williams is not yet done I guess.
Today, 8/3/19, with some update from 8/6 tossed in, I am still vibrating with the incredible Lion’s Gate energy that came through me the last three nights through the OHOM (Open Heart Open Mind) collective channel while blogging YOUR INVITE TO BREAK THE SPEED OF LIGHT – PART 2. Three nights minus the goddess I love, Elizabeth England, who is visiting family. Miss you, baby.
Now, since 2010 I’ve been channeling a number of spirits and beings — earthly, heavenly and cosmically — after my awakening in yoga hall in Italy. On this blog I re-broadcast the best wisdom from these amazing ET encounters. By far my favorite earthly spirit to channel is Robin Williams. As I write this intro his incredible spirit is sitting here in my office, patiently waiting for his coffee, a wistful smile on his famous face.
Now, about my channeling, since I cannot prove scientifically, yet anyways, that my unexpected connection to spirit is really happening, I always retain a seed of healthy doubt and invite you to do so as well as you read. Real or not, the source is unimportant. It’s the wisdom the process of channeling provides that counts. It gets me out of my head and in touch with my heart.
But to get this channeling started I first need to make a coffee for Robin. The great comedic spirit cannot, of course, drink coffee it in spirit form. Robin just loves to wrap his ghostly hands around a hot mug of java. And I am not the only living person he visits. Here’s the link on a good piece in the Huff Post I found searching “Robin loves coffee”. For the Huffpost writer, Robin’s energy came through a computer. There are other examples out there too. For me I am blessed to hear and see his ghost in the 3D. Be right back after I make a coffee for Robin and I to share.
OK. I am back with a steaming java. Robin’s in a happy mood today. “How’s the coffee, Robin?”
“Yummy in the tummy, that is if I had one anymore,” kids Robin.
“Like the chocolate almond milk I added for a change?”
“Yep. Hardly miss the sugar. Nice energy. Look, normally I love kibitzing, Ken, but can we get to why I am visiting today? ” says Robin, seeming a bit on edge. “We’re not at Coffee Pot restaurant and so I only have your energy to power this visit. We cool?”
“Coolest ever. What’s up, Robin?”
“Let’s talk addiction and how it’s destroying the planet,” says Robin. He gathers his wits, sniffing the coffee on the desk beside me. He’s here in both his new killer whale form and human form for the first time. Usually it’s one or the other.
“Please go on. I’ll keep my yap shut unless something super important occurs to ask you, Robin.”
“As there are no secrets in Hollywood, plus as I made rather light of being a junkie to the legal drug booze in my standup routines ad nauseum, I am famous, or shall I say infamous, for my drug and alcohol escapades during my salad days as a Hollywood superstar. One time I was so strung out on cocaine I did not sleep for 10 days. Never saw it coming that the fame I got conked on the head with in life by God would come back to bite me like a killer shark to a seal. Hmm. So hungry. Where a seal when you freakin’ want one? Anyhow, it was a curse when fame put drugs and booze under my big nose all too often for my feeble self-worth to resist.
Now, after a having had a LOTS, and I mean LOTS, of therapy to get and the to stay sober, way harder than getting sober, I see it all derived from my childhood trauma. Most of it centered around my dear old Pops who never loved me for who I am. Papa dearest meant well, but seemed afraid of the freakish power of my sense of humor. Always so strict you’d think he had 2X4 up his tukis. Yep, as a major corporate stiff Dad never got me or my jokes. It messed me up more than he, or I for that matter, ever knew.
Boo-hoo. Poor me. However, I am not recounting my lousy childhood that made me an adult addict for sympathy. That is not the point of our visitation today, Ken and company. — And thanks ,Kenny Bo Benny, for doing this banana bana bo bana channeling, despite your ever shrinking sense of doubt that I’m real. — No sire, killer shark. I am here to proclaim as a whale of an angel that the tragic way the refugee kids at the border are getting shit on stems directly from America’s deep seated addiction to the darkest high of all, the high of being a racist.
And all of America is racist. Don’t feel superior to the White Supremacist in El Paso that went Mexican hunting in the Wal-mart. Cue my Elmer Fudd imitation of Elmer as a White Supermicist as he breaks the 4th wall, “Hu hu hu, I’m hunting Mexcicans today. Hu hu hu.” Sorry, Elmer. Just clowning to make a point.
You know one of my biggest regrets here in the after life? Not doing enough GOOD MORNING VIETNAM kind of political films. I could have made such a difference. Sure, I’d have made less money. But maybe I would not be on killer whale detail in the Arctic if I’d used my gifts and power.
That’s why this killer whale is proud my astral pal Ken is making a protest film about the mistreatment of the refugee kids. America is building more than a wall, as he says in the new trailer, it’s building resentment. Making a shameless plug for Ken’s film you can donate to here.
Sorry to be so f’ing serious here on the usually lighthearted DreamShield blog today. Actually I am not in a good mood, Ken. How could I be in a good mood when I see the frequencies we killer whales and the other races of whale family are broadcasting to help erase addiction on this planet are going unheard by humanity at the moment? I mean, what the fuck?”
Ken here. I am mostly here. Robin or star beings I channel are never allowed to push me aside. Good boundaries are essential. And even though I am tempted to interrupt Robin here with an apology for misreading his mood as good and asking him a clarifying question I keep my mouth shut. He’s more whale spirit than human these days and he wants to get back to the Arctic where his killer whale self has already returned.
But reading my mind anyways, Robin goes on, “I hear you, Ken. Dear people reading this cool blog, my whale self is up in the arctic swimming through open damned seas! I can see through his big eyes. Where’s the fucking ice? My entire killer whale pod is stunned at the totally open seas where they have never been here before. One young killer whale, who shall goes anonymous chimes in, ‘Good riddance to the ice. This is so great for hunting because the seals have no ice to hide in. Dinner is served!’
Pardon me a sec. I am telepathically telling my brother and sister killers whale not to eat every damn seal in sight. “If we killer whales kill all the seals in this open sea there will soon be no mama seals and no more seal pups. Overeat and we let the oil burning culture of humans who caused this open to sea to kill we the killer whale people win. A lose-lose for we the good guys of cosmic proportions. Mother earth wants the killer whales to outlive the humans, who if they do not wise the fuck up and become the stewards of the earth she evolved them to be, will go extinct by their own hoggish hands.
Ah, cool. My whale tribe is listening, eating only the smallest number of seals we need to survive. Natural greed is thankfully not an addiction we killer whales have to contend with like the human tribe I was once a conscious leader of without being conscious of it. kind like that story where a mackrel, a sea lion and dolphin go into sand bar. The sand bar tender says, ‘What’ll it be gents?’ And the sea lion suddenly eats the makrel and the dolphin and says, ‘Burp.”
So how do I get this concept of caring about this world and stopping global warming across to your dense as brick human audience? I know you love my jokes, eveyone, but this ain’t fucking funny. So pardon my text shouting but…
HELLO! THE FUCKING NORTH POLE IS MELTING.
Put that message on a red MAGA cap and suck on it.
All this global warming denial bullshit is due to human addiction to an ignorant 50s era glorified by an old orange mogul with whale-sized daddy issues. An era that never really existed. An era rife with white racism so thick you could cut it with a burning KKK lawn cross. A mind controlled era of fake good ness born of a long dead era of white conquest of the Native Americans. That’s the real cause behind Trump’s ignoring global warming. The cheeseburger loving lard ass knows global warming will kill more people of color than Nazi Germany killed Jews and Poles by a power of 100.
Accept your within you white entitlement, either overt or covert, either active or passive, lies deep sickness at the heart of every citizens’ racism. That addictive entitlement is at the root cause of all the intelligent ignorance behind the denial of global warming caused by human pollution. Stop denying and start doing something about the way you are fucking up the only planet you have. Screw Elon Musk and his mission to Mars. Gamble all your money on solving earth’s global warming.
Trump is dangerous, not because he’s the evil boogey man the liberal media makes him to be, mostly for their own ratings benefit. Witness the kiss ass NTY headline TRUMP URGES UNITY VS RACSIM. #CanceltheNYT. Rather see Trump as he really is. Not a monster. Just an old fart, a duffer who can only put in a few hours of work a day. A bad hair nightmare suffering brain farts due a traumatic childhood he never did the hard work of therapy to overcome. A messed up childhood that makes him long for a racist past where he still seeks daddy and mama resolution. This even though they’ve both been rotting in an over design grave for too long to be reached.
Gone just like I will be one day, Ken and fans. Life goes on even after life. One day maybe I’ll simply forget I was ever Robin Williams the human and maybe start eating too many seals for my new killer whale species’ own good.
Be on constant guard for mind control from the left or right. Stay centered and stay aware of race bating and politics of distraction. At the same time ignore the endless media coverage getting done on it, droning on and on and there-fucking-by encouraging new racists stars to cut loose for the short burst of fame.
Oh, or should I say OY VEY! Keep in mind that Mr. Butter Would Not Melt in His Mouth Obama was no better a president either. He drones people. Made our social media a spy tool. Dug up sacred lands for oil. All because he too was a damaged child himself. And he too was addicted to seek power for the love of the masses with the lip service of hope and change. That cool cat was was just more genteel about it than angry grandpa bumble fuck Trump.
People, you’ve got to stop playing “me versus them” politics and realize you are all in the same lifeboat with each other whilest rich assholes in the Titanic above you sipping on champagne take a whizzes on all your dumb as dirt heads!
Robin’s voice begins to fade and he shouts,”Shit. Outta spirit juice. Bye, Ken and his coolest ever readers. Thanks for the coffee. Whale kisses.”
END CHANNELING
Please support my new film called SOAP & TOOTHBRUSHES about the plight of the refugee kids. Only 2 weeks or so left on the campaign and we have a long ways to go. Or grab yourself some enlightened tech to raise your wellness for the challenging times ahead at CoolestTechEver.com. The money all ends up in the same place helping to enlighten and entertain a weary world though thought provoking content.
Remember always that racism is hate. And hate is ultimately self defeating. Good will always win over evil. Only through love for each other just as we were born of the many races, all of us sharing the same beautiful blue world, can we make it. Yes we can, can…
Sing it Pointer Sisters.
A sad PS. Today August 6th a tragedy struck Robin’s killer whale pod in the Arctic. Stay tuned to my next in the Robin Williams visitations to hear the sad but uplifting whale of a tale DEATH AT THE NORTH POLE BY HUMAN NARCISSISM.
During my stay at Malibu’s Great Spirits Ranch, hosting events and running social media for the bulk of 2012, I was blessed to meet many amazing stars of the LA spirit community. One of those LA stars is now my partner in love, biz and life, Elizabeth England. We’ve been living in bliss together now for three years, nestled in a lovely home in Sedona.
Annelise Balfour Couchman (Annalisa)
As we work round the clock to get the word out about an amazing line of EMF protection devices that literally save lives on our new CoolestTechEver.com e-commerce site, it can be easy to actually forget that magical time. A time when all of us in the yoga and meditation community across the planet were looking forward to the end of the Mayan calendar with hope for a new era in human awareness.
In that heady time, there was lovely woman named Annelise (Annalisa) Balfour who visited the Malibu ranch a few times for GSR events. Her mega-watt smile and contagious positive attitude made her a stand-out from the crowds who visited the 14 acres ranch, perched high above the city of Malibu in the Santa Monica mountains. Annelise was curious about my ET spirit guide Ohom and we had great conversation about the mission of the DreamShield to assist in gently elevating human consciousness through meditation.
Yesterday, amidst all the hype on FB surrounding the mid-term elections, which gratefully succeeded in the Dems taking the house to put some check on 45, I was shocked to learn that sweet Annelise had passed away from breast cancer. It instantly put all the nonsense surrounding Trump and our crazy-making politics into perspective.
Monday, at Ross Pittman’s of ConsciousLifeNews.com’s weekly power of eight meditation event, I asked the group to help Annelise on her journey. Everyone eagerly agreed. As soon as we all closed our eyes and dropped into our heart space I connected to my dear spirit guide Robin Williams; now enjoying an oceanic afterlife as a killer whale, after short reincarnations as a blue whale and a blue dolphin. Robin, who calls himself Nanu these days, volunteered to help in the group meditation.
Robin found Annelise’s spirit wandering the beach in Malibu. When she spotted Robin they connected telepathically and he playfully invited Annelise to swim out and climb aboard his back and hang onto his dorsal fin. Annelise happily accepted Robin’s invitation and soon they were off!
Annelise gleefully clung to Robin the killer whale like a mermaid born for this. Robin dove deep and soared up, flying from from wave to wave. Annelise laughed with carefree joy as the duo glided on the wind and waves.
Now Robin dove deep. Deeper and deeper, down to the bottom of the ocean he raced. At first Annelise worried about air but then chuckled she no longer had the need for mortal breathing. She gasped as up ahead a small portal of golden light opened, a glittering beacon on the dark ocean floor.
Robin told Annelise, “Sorry. Too small for me. This is as far as I can take you, babe. Enjoy your journey to the center for the earth!”
I watched the vision from the Sedona meditation circle with a giddy smile as Annelise’s spirit accepted Nanu’s whale of an invite and dove into the golden portal. Her spirit easily glided though the layers of the earth, gaining in power. Soon she arrived at the planetary core. But instead of hot magma she was amazed the earth’s core swirled in molten gold.
A large golden lever that stuck out from a golden column beckoned to Annelise. Free of mortal hesitation, she pulled the golden lever sharply down. To her joy a wave of golden energy sailed from the earth’s core rocketing out to the surface and kept right on going throughout the solar system and the whole universe.
The vision ended and I shared the story with our Sedona meditation group. Others shared visions too of her powerful presence. And I felt immense gratitude for the abundant health of my love Elizabeth and the mutual support we give each other as we continue to grow and develop as leaders of the conscious community.
Today, America awoke to a renewed Congress, blessed with 100 women of many races and creeds who, to record turnouts, were elected yesterday. Thanks for helping make that happen, Annelise and my coolest ever mediation Sedona pals! Safe journeys on whatever you are up to next on the other side, Annalisa. I have a feeling your part of your work will be helping heal the idiotic divides between the people.
Oh, and I’ll pass your thanks onto spirit guide and killer whale Nanu, AKA Robin Williams.
I had one of the coolest dreams of my life last night. A true mission from spirit from a happier post war America not to lose hope during these turbulent times.
It’s 1948 and I’m backstage at a New York theater. Stage hands and great actors of the past busily rush past me. I see, Bob Hope, Shirley Temple, James Cagney, Liz Taylor, Bogart and Frank Sinatra.
Frank smiles at me and says, “You’re on, Ken. Knock ’em dead.”
Enjoy some Sinatra on new tab to score this once in a lifetime inspirational dream that;s really meant for us all.
This all seems strange, in the way dreams always do while still perfectly natural at the same time. I adjust my suit, a weird combination of tux top and my old green flannel pajama bottoms. But I have a problem.
“Frank,” I ask nervously, “I gotta find the can. Mind going on for me? You know, hold ’em over while fund the john? Hate to pee myself onstage!”
“For you, kid? Anything!” Frank says with chuckle as he dives through through curtains to thunderous applause.
I timidly ask Bob Hope as he passes by, “Sorry, Bob. Where’s the can?
“Did a spotlight can fall on your head? Cross your damn legs on get onstage!” Bob says pushing me through the curtains.
The crowd gathered below the stage that’s a balcony on 30 Rock that overlooks Time Square (Hey, it’s a dream!), erupts in applause and laughter as I appear from the curtains in tumble that I raise to my feet. Frank, master of the mic, spins toward me and says with his million watt grin, “Better late than never, ladies and gents, I give Ken Sheetz!”
I do a funny curtsey bow the crowd appreciates and take the mic from Frank as he pats me on the back and says pointing at my hilarious getup, “Half dressed after just climbing out of bed, Kenny?’
I explain, “Like my outfit, Frank? The tux my love Elizabeth made for me is hand sewn. The green plaid pajama bottoms are from our Christmas film, where people give cash to the poor instead of junk we all don’t need!”
A standing ovation interrupts me from the good-looking happy crowd, dressed in classy winter garments, including an abundance of mink coats. I turn to Frank with shrug. “You’re slaying ’em. Go on, kid!”
“Apologies for being late. Had to grab a pee before coming out here to you good people!” The crowd goes wild with laughter. I find myself wondering out loud, “Why the heck do people always love a good pee joke?” When I spot Bob Hope in the wings, doing a face plant.
I point to Hope and joke, “Bob, I swear to God, if I pee myself in front of this fine crowd and 30 million people on TV it’s all your fault!” Putty in my comedic hands the crowd belly laughs uproariously.
Bob strides from the wings, Oscar in hand, comically looking jealous as he hands it to me, “The bridesmaid again! They Academy fails once again to give Best Actor to yours truly! But I gotta hand it to you, Sheetz. Great job!”
Franks’s trying to say something, but the laughter and applause of the crowd is so loud that I can’t hear him. So I step for him and lean the mic to hear Frank say in that amazing voice of his…
“Ken’s flick changed a commercially bastardized holiday back to something Jesus would love on his birthday. Kenny deserves way more than an Oscar, he deserves a freaking Nobel!”
Frank kisses me on both cheeks as Hope chimes in, “Huh, kinda like a Noel Nobel, Frank?” Frank nods as he applauds me. The crowd joins in with yet another wild standing ovation just as the “time to get off the Oscar stage music” starts to play softly.
I realize I better get to the “thank yous” pronto, “I want thank all the new friends I made making this film a hit.” I oddly can’t seem to remember the title of the film I suddenly realize to my horror but press on, “I want thank my old friends director Frank Capra, my co-stars Danny Kaye and Jimmy Cagney who gave this film it’s heart and soul.” I gesture to the crowd to see Elizabeth my love blowing me kisses, “Where we would be in life without friends?”
So many loves of my life in the cool crowd I see are waving at me. I go teary eyed spotting relatives who have passed away. “Most of all I want to thank my buddy Frank Sinatra for believing in me and my work. Peace everyone. Merry Christmas and Happy ’49!”
The echo of the joyous crowd still in my ears, I awake in bed and say to Lincoln our rescue dog, tucked away in his bed in our closet, “Wow. What a great dream, little Lincoln!” Lincoln shoots me a puzzled look and goes back to sleep since it’s only sunrise.
I check my cell phone for one of early morning messages Elizabeth‘s been leaving me each day from the Bahama’s, where she’s about 1/3 through a 5 week kirtan/yoga intensive. But. alas, no message. It takes some of the joy out of the dream as she had a freak head injury just 5 days before she left that’s made the whole thing dicey. But I shake it off the nervousness, still feeling she’s well in the field.
Update, I was right. Elizabeth simply overslept and is off to yoga. Time for a cup of java and Saturday yoga myself with Sedona’s amazing Naomi C. Rose!
Coming up for air on Halloween, from a Monday business horror I gasped at the five voicemails missed from my baby brother in Wisconsin. Worried Bruce was going to tell me my 89 year-old mom had passed, my fingers moved too fast to register on the glass of my smartphone.
When I finally calmed down enough to return Bruce’s call, my sister-in-law Marianne somberly let me know my other brother Fred, recently turned 63, had died of a heat attack the day before. Weird thing I told my love Elizabeth I felt Fred was going to be passing soon because of his dangerous addiction game. So I foolishly thought I was prepared, but the news of losing my Irish twin Fred hit me like a mile long freight train full of lead doing 90.
Marianne handed the phone to Mom. Her voice choked with tears, Mom bitterly wondered, “Losing both my husband of 35 years and Fred within only 4 months of one another, what is that about, Ken? You’re the one who talks to angels.” Deep in grief and shock myself, I told her I’d need more time to wrestle with that and did my best to comfort my mother her second born son Fred’s pain was over.
Soon as I hung up my false bravado evaporated fast as a Sedona dusting of snow, my client troubles put into somber perspective.
Fred (left) with me and mom
The only time I’d spoken to Fred in the last four years of a tough love regimen came earlier this year when I was helping my mom cope with her husband’s stroke that put him in a coma from which he’d never awaken. Mom had asked me to screen her calls from the flock of salesman seeking to sell her everything from stairlifts to funeral services.
I picked up for her saying, “D’Acquisto residence.”
Fred croaked in the gravely voice he gets with abusing, “Hey, Ken. Strange times.”
I icily said, “Sure are,” and quickly handed the phone to mom.
TOUGH LOVE IS TOUGH
Doctors warned all of us in the family gathering bedside in 2013, as Fred lay in an induced coma, that he’d die if he ever drank again. Four years deep into the tough love thing had backfired and I never got to properly say good-bye to a brother who suffered a horrible childhood right beside me. I am having trouble coping with that. The guilt is enormous.
Me with Fred during his coma from an ulcer 2013 due to alcohol abuse.
Elizabeth, who blessedly came into my life in 2015, escaping LA to live with me here in Sedona, has comforted me as best she could after this final loss of my brother from his long drawn out death, which abuse made this a decades long process. I am not much fun to be around right now. Her patience has been epic and I swear I will not let Fred ruin this relationship from the grave.
Like my Sicilian stepfather Nick, I learned there was also to be no family funeral for Fred. No traditional Irish open casket ceremony. So I welcomed Elizabeth’s idea for us to co-create a private ceremony in Sedona to mourn Fred.
Sadly, and the pattern is all too painfully obvious, Elizabeth had lost a brother to addiction three years ago where there was no funeral. So I insisted we add William, along with my stepfather Nick to the our work of mourning their three tragic deaths.
Elizabeth has explained ritual is something of a lost art in our cold hearted modern life. She and I first created and altar for the three souls with a five day candle burning. We bought Celtic medallions for Fred and William, who had the curse of the Irish in not handling booze well and for Nick we chose an ancient piece of Hopi pottery to represent his place and an elder in the ritual.
Grieving Puja Elizabeth and I Created for William, Nick and Fred
A week into the grieving, guided by a book Elizabeth read to me each night at bed by Maldoma Some’, I dove through denial into deep anger fueled by client troubles. Troubles getting worse as I was not coping well and messing things up as my patience I normally have for my eccentric and wonderful client in abundance was crippled by my grief.
WHALE OF A FAIRY TALE
A bright spot in all this grief is I’ve been deeply touched by an amazing outpouring of love and comforting by Facebook friends that’s helped me through this. Never let anyone tell you Facebook friends are fake!
I’ve also been comforted by a certain blue whale I connect to in spirit named Robin Williams in a past life whose become a regular in my life and this blog in THE ROBIN WILLIAMS VISITATONS. Robin volunteered to help guide Fred to his resting place in the cosmos, all the while making wisecracks like, “I can help Fred as one junkie to another that fucked up his life.”
On Saturday I decided to take a badly needed break from client troubles and Fred’s mourning and went to a Bruce Lipton lecture. I was hosting the amazing Kathleen Gildred of Gorgeous Goddess Wear and she had offered me one her vendor passes at the Create Your Life Conference she was part selling her cool stuff at. How could I say no?
What a genius Lipton is! And so funny. I wondered — as Bruce made so much clear to us all of the science of love and it’s influence on good health — guiltily about how I knew in my heart Fred would be dying weeks before Mom was frantically trying to reach me while I was lost trying to save my biggest account. Knew it cold.
I regretted amid the conference that I didn’t break my tough love regimen and call Fred Lee Sheetz at least say good bye. It sucks to be psychic sometimes. I brought my overactive mind back to present, laughing at a slide Bruce showed that demonstrated why politicians have no brains.
Bruce Lipton at the Create Your Life Conference in Sedona
After Lipton’s pessimistic but paradoxically optimistic look at the extinction of all life on earth if we don’t get our asses in gear and shift our collective consciousness to love, I grabbed a Vegan lunch and mingled with Create Your Life event goers. Some of the guests said they were going on a fairy walk on the grounds of the state park behind Enchantment and invited me along.
As the golf cart arrived I was happy to see in the crowd I was not the only guy for once on one of these spiritual close encounters.
Now, ever since 2010 in Mt. Shasta over an argument over spaghetti dinner with a human/fairy – Yes, they exist! – I’ve had many failed encounters with fairy folk. So I was hoping the walk might change my fairy luck. My Irish grandmother believed in fairies and leprechauns and so I knew the fairy folk might be able to help Fred find peace.
Unlike angels, fairies have egos and can be mischievous. Which is where I fall down on the fairy connection. But our sweet guide Courtney Long, a human fairy herself, was superb at explaining that fairies like people who recycle and seek the lowest footprint on the planet. Things I’ve become far better at since 2010. So I relaxed and began to connect to the faries in the beauty of the Boyton Canyon.
Human Fairy and Angel Fairy Expert Courtney Long
Wow! I saw thousands of fairies giggling in the trees lift off in the Sedona sky to meet our group of about 100. All fairy believers.
The beach-like red sand trail I slowly tread along with our enchanted group hunting faries was dappled in sunlight. A gentle breeze in the pines and cedars sparkled fairy dust everywhere. I relaxed free of client troubles and Fred’s loss when my fairy hunting eye caught sight of a pod in a cluster in bush.
Looking with my third eye, wide open with Courtney’s expert guidance, I saw in that pod a tiny fairy where I saw a newborn fairy. Instantly knew Fred had been born as a teensy girl fairy named. He told me telepathically his new name is Fredwenna.
Robin Williams, a giant blue whale soaring in the sky above the treetops above me, kidded baby Fred doing his funniest NYC accent, “Ladies and gents, I present that most adorable hot dog ever, The Fred Weena!” A few people on the tour wondered what I was laughing at.
My sorrow exploded into joy. Fairies sang a chorus of bliss. Fred was back!
After I got home and reunited with Elizabeth with a tender hug and saw that my amazing client, who has been ill so I had asked the fairies to do a healing on, had called me when I was deep in the fairy land, witnessing the rebirth of my beloved brother Fred.
When I returned the super client’s call we were in tears on both sides that we had been so harsh with each other. We’ve still not worked it out, as it’s royal mess I can’t get into here, of course. But the fairies, in whose care my lost kid brother Fred’s soul rests, tell me it’s all going to work out and not to be too anxious or sad.
Fredweena is happy in the Boyton Canyon fairy world and I am Fairy Grateful.
My next blog will be about how I repaid Robin Williams’ blue whale spirit self for helping my lost brother find the fairy lands in my next coolest ever blog post titled:
“The Ocean is Getting Lonely – The Robin Williams Visitations”
Look for it soon as writing is my therapy.
Learn more about events where we can meet plus grab some cool loot from the amazing spirit scientists supporting our planetary healing at CoolestMeditationEver.com
FYI if you are looking for good customer service avoid Bluehost. The hosting service did not start out that way when someone near and dear to me, my partner in BuzzBroz.com our social media biz, started using them 10 years ago. But that’s another story today.
About 6 weeks ago Bluehost suggested Elizabeth upgrade her service with them, for a higher fee of course. She had already prepaid for a 5-year plan. And oh how the sales person at Bluehost promised it would improve her service. WRONG! Ever since the “upgrade” it’s been one problem after another, starting with all of her sites being black screen for two weeks after the ‘Upgrade.’
Now for another 2 weeks, the site for one of her lines of business, thank goodness not a client site, is forwarding to another website, rendering her income producing page useless and her customers scratching their heads. And no one at Bluehost can figure out why or how to fix it. She can’t even restore with a back up because her Bluehost dashboard is broken, too. Total fail of service and support.
Despite service that’s been so bad from Bluehost that it eventually brought Elizabeth, a tough vet with 17 years as master sergeant, to tears after 6 weeks of tech after tech fails that went in total circles after two hour calls that have now added up to a dozen hours of wasted time.
Clearly in this world of robo-service from the likes of Bluehost, Google, YouTube, Facebook and more, service is a forgotten word. No one in management has stepped up to help and now when she calls she is told that it’s being handled by a senior tech adviser but the “senior tech advisers don’t take calls.” Take heart, there are a few bright spots for good service on the web. GoDaddy and Vimeo are two.
How long until these good guys devolve into the bad service joke that is Bluehost’s circular “we cannot help you” brand service who can say? But long as they keep up good service, Godaddy and Vimeo will benefit from the vacuum left by the Bluehost bad service losers of the web.
Update, after a flurry of attempts and many more hours of Elizabeth’s time at service the pages remain a mess.
Scratching your head on why Trump is still going strong as he is? Blame our mass media for being not so much as fake as seriously failing to present both sides. If you watch only mainstream media and comedy you really know very little of what he’s doing.
Not all Trump believers are racist idiots. I know this firsthand through my amazing Trump fan friends. Take some comfort Trump was elected to do a job of disrupting the status quo by his loyal fans, many of whom are your family and friends. They have not suddenly grown tails and horns. Don’t let yourself be polarized.
Many of his brighter backers are overlooking Trump’s obvious tendencies to racism and misogamy for a higher purpose of a badly needed reboot and freeing us from the deep state. Yeah, and it’s not a pretty sight how he’s going about it. He swims in uncharted waters.
Have some faith this is all going to work out without letting all this hoo ha that about selling soap rob your soul peace.
Extremism left or right is not healthy. Seek balance in all things.
As for me? Well, I’ve disliked Trump since the 1980s for his massive ego. That won’t change for me. But that does not mean I still can’t send intentions in the cosmic field he’ll wake up or love my friends who still back him.
To those in the house reading the first direct blog by your ghost host with most today and wondering how I can fit comfortably into Ken’s heart space, hear my voice in your mind’s ear, imitating Albert Einstein, as I did in the movie AI “In spirit form, you zee, vee humans don’t take up too much space. Zere’s a kingdom in each heart and a lot of space on zee quantum subatomic level.”
FYI if you are looking for good customer service avoid Bluehost. The hosting service did not start out that way when someone near and dear to me, my partner in BuzzBroz.com our social media biz, started using them 10 years ago. But that’s another story today.
Media, Meditations & Musings 