The Making of TRUMP BETTER THAN ABE? by Ken Sheetz
Fall of 2009, nine months before my spirit awakening in Italy in 2010, I was inspired to create a web series about the ghost of President Abraham Lincoln advising the newly minted President Obama. Having secured the talents of Lincoln actor Tom Katsis, a dead ringer for Abe in manner and spirit, scripts flew off my fingers.
Pre-awakening-wise, I vainly believed the writing was so easy in Abe’s voice because of my 10 years of Hollywood screenwriting experience. But after my awakening I would, strange as it sounds, understand I was perhaps (who can really say?) not creating but channeling Abe’s real thoughts from beyond.
YouTube has gone downhill for indie producers like myself. Without boring you with the details, the long and short of it is my Lincoln YouTube channel, along with nine other of my YouTube channels, blessed with over 5 million views of my work and thousands of fans, are sadly going to be deleted to combat a lack of customer service in answering countless emails form me helping me regain access to channels I no longer have access via email. Why? It’s not my fault that the email accounts linked to got hacked and cannot be password reset.
All I need is a simply password reset but no. So frustrating. My name is on every video and I cannot get human customer service. Requesting closing these channels feels like losing nine kids to me.
But after consulting with social media lawyer Ian Corzine about the new FTC compliance requirement coming January 1st I realize I have no option but to consolidate my Youtube activity from 11 highly specialized channels down to two channels. These are BuzzBroz built for promotion, both third party and direct, and the more cosmic CoolestMeditationEver. These two channels, one monetized, the other commercial free due due, you guessed it, YouTube betrayal of small content creators, have over 24 million views between them.
As I began the somber work of pulling copies of the 2009 Lincoln videos down for preservation in advanced of my January 2020 channel consolidation, I excitedly noticed that most of what Abe talked to Obama about as problems in 2009 are still painfully relevant ten years later in our troubled nation.
At the same time this past week, when my YouTube consolidation work began, the Republican Party released a new poll saying 53% of Republicans surveyed believe Trump is a better president than Lincoln! Now, if you think this is all very self-serving of the GOP given Trump will soon be impeached by Congress, unless something mighty unforeseen occurs, you’re not alone. Abe and I feel this way too.
I feel in my heart of heart’s that Abe’s restless spirit wants me to use this moment in time – not to challenge the Republican Trump vs Abe survey, a joke compared to Lincoln’s greatness in saving this nation vs Trump’s dividing it – but to allow Abe’s great spirit to sound off on the same primary issue he reached out to Obama and the American people about in 2009, namely unbridled corporate power.
I hope you enjoy how I was able to edit the old 2009 material into something new and fresh as today’s headlines by adding some new takes from Tom to bring you TRUMP BETTER THAN ABE? Please share it if you like it because it’s the only way Abe’s new wisdom will see the light of day in this new era of a corporatized YouTube.
It’s a sad thing that YouTube, where the blessings of income producing channels that have supported my film work for decade, no longer favors independent content creators like me. Indeed, Youtube has totally sold out and surrendered to big corporate content creators. Fortunately, my wife Elizabeth and I got ahead of this ugly trend 18 months ago when we created CoolestTechEver.com. So head on over and grab cool tech from geniuses like Patrick Flanagan. Jonathan Goldman, Blushield EMF protection and iPyramids. Your purchases support our meditations, blog and films. Thanks!
(Rather hear an audio version of this blog? Link bottom of post.)
Happy evening of 11/11/19. I hope you will enjoy this somewhat humorous quantum meditational look ahead two days into one possible timeline. One that many not happen exactly as I write about here, but one that may paradoxically happen precisely in this way somewhere in the infinite multi-verse or later in this universe than I imagine here.
Before we get started with this quantum meditation, if you’re one of my dear friends, family or fans who I still love even though we strongly disagree on Trump — and I am glad you still love me too as it gives me hope we’re going to get through all this mess — please feel to leave your own fantasy timeline in the comments. I promise not to erase them no matter how much I respectfully disagree.
Reverse this meditation if you are time traveling backwards to the space-time coordinates of earth’s galactic position on the morning of November 13th. Let’s begin. Take a deep breath. Imagine you’re watching the Monday night sky full of stars. The stars’ movement to the west begins to accelerate. Take another deep breath. In your minds’ eye see the sun rise and streak to set in the west. Now the stars appear again and streak west so fast they are lines of white on sky, flowing behind the rapidly rising and setting moon.
Take another deep cleaning breath, in through your nose and out your mouth.
Congrats. You’ve just time traveled in your mind, breaking the speed of light, to the fateful first day of the Trump Impeachment hearings.
11/13/19, 6:30 AM AZ Time (Written 2 Days Ahead of Actual Date)
I awaken as the first sunbeams light up the autumn leaves to the west out our bedroom windows in gorgeous Sedona. Not yet married 2 months, my love Elizabeth and I are still on our blissful honeymoon. At 67 years of age I have never been happier in my long life.
My beautiful bride has a delightful ritual of snuggling to start each day. But today I separate from Elizabeth’s well toned arms and silently slip from bed.
I am as excited as a six-year old on Christmas morn because it’s Wednesday November 13th, the first day of the public Trump Impeachment hearings. I feel a twinge of regret leaving our love nest, but I know Elizabeth finds Trumpy stuff a YUGE time waste. She worked in Special Forces during her 17 years of military service to America and she feels quite sad about the low grade civil war we seem to be mired in.
Our little rescue dog Lincoln snores beside Elizabeth, keeping her company as I make my escape. Throwing on my trusty warm robe I close the door softly behind me and turn on the kitchen light.
Wow. Today’s the first live Impeachment hearing since I was in college during Watergate.
7AM is too early for popcorn while I devour the hearings. So I drop a frozen waffle in the toaster just as Elizabeth steps from the bedroom, pulling her white bathrobe around her lovely figure. Love is delightfully distracting. Rubbing the sleep from her beautiful blue green eyes Elizabeth says half asleep, “Why’d you leave bed without hugs, Ken?”
Lincoln hops against my plaid PJs as I say, trying not to sound like a guilty little boy, “Trump’s impeachment hearings start in –”
“Ken, I thought you said you weren’t going to watch the live hearings,” says Elizabeth playfully poking me in my all too Trump-like belly. I welcome Elizabeth’s gentle scolding because she’s suffered through my serious Trump news addiction for 4 years now, sharing a small home office.
Elizabeth takes me into a forgiving hug. She’s without a doubt one of the greatest huggers on earth. She looks deep into my eyes and says,”I’ll make tea. Get the circus going.”
I flashback to the Trump inauguration Elizabeth and I attended with the support of our fans. Our mission: Hold a space of love and hope in the feisty red-capped crowd for Trump’s first and hopefully only term in office. It was a hard thing for me because I’ve not been a fan of Trump’s brash style and the harsh way he treats people who serve him since the 1980s.
Unfortunately, the Ukraine scandal has fired my Trump news addiction back up again. I worry that watching the hearings this morning — and the inevitable cycle of Trump’s feisty blowback — might be harmful to the peaceful energies of my idyllic life here in Sedona.
Little Lincoln pokes me with his paws again. begging for his forgotten breakfast. This snaps me out of yet another of my Trump spells. I pop open the refrigerator and pull out his dog food. I multi-task finishing my waffle, dropping Lincoln’s food in his green plastic bowl to the floor with a familiar little clatter and hurry to the living room.
“Tea’s almost ready” says Elizabeth cheerfully from the open kitchen as I fumble through the hollow book that holds our TV’s remote controls.
I surf to channel 53, CNN here in Sedona where Anderson Cooper is talking without sound. The CNN title card reads:
Trump Impeachment Hearings Canceled
“What the fuck?!” I shout so loudly Elizabeth drops her tea pot spilling to the counter.
“What?!” Elizabeth shouts as she rips off some paper towel. and quickly starts a cleanup.
“I don’t know. Somehow Trump has gotten his impeachment hearings canceled!”
Elizabeth races to the couch, “Where’s the volume?”
Diving to look under the couch on the floor I say, looking at dust bunnies, “Not here.”
I hear Anderson Cooper’s excited voice boom from the sound system that Elizabeth has obviously found first. Anderson says:
“… you just watched Chairman Adam Schiff announce the unbelievable: President Trump has stolen the thunder from today’s live Impeachment hearings in announcing he will resign the presidency of the United States of America, effective noon Eastern time on this historic November 13th 2019.”
Elizabeth and I leap to our feet and dance and scream for joy! Lincoln runs for his safety zone in our bedroom closet. I sweep Elizabeth into the pose of the famous New York kiss of the sailor and the young woman at the end of World War Two.
Can this really be happening (or happen in two days)? Yes, on several timelines Trump resigns just as Nixon did. But not to avoid the shame, the man has none, but by shrewdly accepting the certainty that the Impeachment of Congress could go either way amid eroding public support. So Trump wisely cuts the deal of his life to be pardoned along with all his family and businesses in return for his resignation.
About noon DC time Elizabeth and I stop working on shipping product for CoolestTechEver.com (shameless plug) to watch TV again. Trump shouts over the noise of the presidential chopper. His face beet red from the shouting, Trump goes on for what seems agonizingly forever. He rambles in a rally-like diatribe against the Deep State, Crooked Hilary and Obama, who he still says was born in Kenya, and more and more. Trump rails on:
“..in anyone’s book, even in Shifty Schiff’s, my Ukraine call was totally perfect! Perfect! Perfect! Perfect! Truth is I only resign today because Mark Burnett and I have reached a deal for me to star in our new reality show THE WHITE HOUSE APPRENTICE, airing Monday 7PM Eastern on NBC. Filming starts right now!”
“Hail to the Chief” plays as Trump high fives his loyal staffers who line the White House lawn leading to the presidential chopper. Head held high, former President Trump proudly strides up to President Pence and bear hugs him off the ground. Trump is already miked for reality TV and so we hear:
“Thanks for the pardon, pard! They’ll be after your sweet ass next, Mikey.” says Trump with a winner’s grin.
“I know, Don. I know. Mother and I are ready to do battle.” says President Pence as Trump walks away, not listening.
Clown to the last, Trump hurries up the little set of stairs, pieces of toilet paper stuck to both his shoes. Trump hams up the Nixon farewell pose as a gag to the laughter from many; but not Jared and Ivanka, whose plans for world domination have been crushed by ex-president Donald J. Trump.
Qanon tweets on 11/14.19 that the toilet paper bit was an intentional insult to the left-wing media to kiss his ass.
We now return you to your present timeline.
Which timeline are you actually on? Trump’s outrageous resignation visualized here? Trump’s rise to become the most outrageous dictator in our blue world’s history? Trump as a humbled man who mends his ways and becomes a surprisingly great president? Somewhere in between? Stay positive imaging please. Imagine no Trump starts World War 3 timelines please. You are far more powerful than you know.
Well, we’ll all know more about what this timeline you’re reading this blog holds on Wednesday. Good night, my fellow meditation fans.
Happy 9.9.19, Surface Dwellers! After some coaxing, because it’s tricky to channel and write, Ken’s agreed to let me be your ghost writer today, literally.
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.
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.
“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.
Either that or Ken, a gifted writer that came to the Hollywood game too late in life to strike it rich, lucky him, is simply imagining me the way his Grandma Agnes warned. What’s it really fucking matter if some of Ken’s, perhaps, fantasy of who I was in life makes you think and smile, dear reader?
Anyways, it’s super kind of Ken to put me up in his heart while I pick out my next life. I try to be as quiet a heart-guest as I can be. But, hey, I am freaking Robin Williams! Quiet was never my thing! “Nanu! Nanu!” I shout to the sea tourist guests. And they shout it back in unison, “Nanuuu!”
After some hemming and hawing I finally tell Jerry the nurse shark the harrowing and sometime hilarious adventures of my last three sea lives, which you can read for yourself here on The Robin Williams Visitations. He gives me a knowing shark eye wink and says, “Robby, never done it myself, but I hear life as a starfish is cool as it gets.”
“What’s so cool about being a starfish?” I ask casually, sounding a blue blood snob shopping for a condo in Hong Kong and and not my next incarnation.
Jerry takes me under a flipper and coaches me like the sea rookie I am, “Take it from a nurse shark brother, the starfish are a freaking yuge mass consciousness that travels the multi-universes. Starfish is a dream lifetime.”
“How’d you hear about the interstellar starfish good life?” I ask Jerry.
“Starfish are my favorite food. One starfish begged for his life told me all about it. That is it if I’d not eat him,” says Jerry punctuating his starfish story with a whip of his shark tail.
“A fair exchange then,” I say squirming out from under Jerry’s sandpaper-like flipper.
” Yeah. But hadda eat the starfish anyways. Sharks will be sharks!”
My ghostly face glows white. Jerry belly laughs at my shocked look (guess I’m still funny even as a ghost) and swims off into the sun above the dazzling Oak Creek that Ken and Elizabeth splash in with their adorable pooch Lincoln.
Cut to earlier tonight: Ken’s love Elizabeth asks him to Google how long a starfish live, But Ken forgot to check before I took over the blog for him. Wait a sec. — Cool. Just searched it and starfish live a lot longer than I thought. 35 years! See that? Both, you dear reader and I, learned something new tonight.
This morning as Ken crosses from the dream world, where he nightly works on reenforcing the protective DreamShield he helped build in 2010 in his Italy awakening to the OHOM (Open Heart Open Mind) consciousness, I say, “Bro, I’ve picked my next life.”
“What this time?” Ken says snuggling up the his babe-elicious bride to be.
“I’m gonna be a starfish!” I accidentally shout too loudly in Ken’s mind’s ears.
Ken takes my abundant energy in stride and says in his mind so as not to awaken his sleeping beauty, “Sorry see you go… again. But you’re always welcome back, Robin.”
I sense Ken’s afraid we might never hang again. I really don’t know myself. So I tell a white lie and reassure him,” Course you’ll be able to channel me in for a coffee anytime.”
“Course,” says Ken sensing my white lie. “But why a starfish? Do they even have a brain?”
“Never had a much of brain while I human. Sure. But not individually. It’s a collective brain thing,” I tell Ken realizing it for the first time myself. “Can’t pass up the chance to blanket the ocean floor in a sacred geometry mesh joined with every starfish on earth.”
I wave goodbye to Ken as I float from his auric field, where I’ve been camping out after an upgrade to Ken’s heart that left me no room. It got too cramped after Ken had a heart opening watching his beautiful Elizabeth, my Mamu blue whale momma on another plane of reality, sing this Ganesh chant.
As I float out the window and into the deep blue Sedona sky Ken does not see me wave bye or does not want to. I rocket off for the coral reef I’ve picked out, faster than the speed of light shouting “Nanu! Nanu!”
As my spirit dives into the Pacific I feel Ken’s sadness at the end of my long visit. The dude has abandonment issues he’s yet to resolve. He will overcome it one day. I see it so clearly, reborn as starfish here beneath a coral reef off the cost of the Big Island.
Let’s test out my new starfish powers. Now,, if you are lucky enough to own a Patrick Flanagan Sensor V medallion, (Sorry we never escape product placement even in the afterlife) with it’s five side pyramids coated in gold, rub your fingers over the pointy fibonacci spiral and close your eyes. It’s cool if you don’t have a Sensor V, no worries, just concentrate on your left hand’s five fingers in your minds eye. See your left hand transform into a starfish as you place your right hand over your heart.
See bright beams of energy shoot out from the ends of your starfish hand. See the grid that joins billions of we starfish into a neural network that spans all the seven seas. Feel the wisdom of a consciousness far older than humanity’s by a power of 100. Feel our anguish over the pollution humanity is dumping to the oceans of Gaia. Oceans that are like blood for we sea creatures and you idiots human too.
Starfish are powerful enough to pull in a comet from space to wipe the surface world clean of humanity’s destruction of the mother earth. But that is forbidden under galactic law. We of the Ocean-Nation’s Starfish clan have watched over humanity since lung fish chose to leave the sea behind and crawl upon the land.
Tonight we invite you, the lucky person that finds this blog, to leave your physical body to travel with we starfish of the stars to any time, dimension, star system or planet you wish.
Have your destination in mind? Okie dokey. See your soul leave your body. Oh and make sure you’ve read part one and two on traveling faster than the speed of light. You need to have a strong tether to reel yourself back in after we journey at blog’s end. We gracefully pass through the clouds, clouds which hold the memories of all life on earth’s past and future lives, in the form of a highly advance bio code held by the water.
For porpoises of this blog I am asking Ken where he’d like to go. Please comment below where our journey took you, dear readers ready to starfish travel.
Ken says, “I dare to dream of a visit the earth 50 years from now and see if our meditations in Antarctica and subsequent meditations I have done with Elizabeth and will do have helped save the earth.”
“OK, Ken. Hang tight to your Sensor V. We are traveling to the year 2069. See the vortex up ahead,” I say as Ken and I fly into the eye of a hurricane.
“There are so many hurricane’s on the earth right now because of global warming, ” worries Ken.
“Yeah. But they are handy vortexes for starfish travel,” I add.
“See, Kenster? You and Elizabeth have been done with your DreamShield Coolest Meditation Ever work on planetary healing for 7 years now. Disease is thing of the past. Age is obsolete. Poverty a distant memory. Thought traveling ETs use the sleek new silver city of Sedona as a primary earth gateway. Scientists have broken the code to use the memory of all life stored in the clouds to restore all extinct species, including the dinosaurs, back to life.”
Ken says in wonder, “Wow, Robin. It all looked so hopeless in 2019. I’d nearly given up. But 50 years from now I can see all is cool!”
“Coolest ever. Hey, wanna to see the space port under construction in the San Fernando village where the Warner Bros. lot used to be, Ken?” I say.
Ken rubs his sleepy eyes and says, “Maybe another time. Good night, my brother Robin. I am so glad for your new life as a starfish and our ever stronger connection. I look forward to reporting more of your adventures.”
And night, dear reader. Robin Williams the Starfish signing off from the coral reef in Hawaii. Oh, that role I played in life thing I mentioned top of the blog? Yep, it’s nice to be star again.
Reel in your spirit tethers. Time to get back in your body! Hope you enjoyed my guest blog. Let me know in the comments and maybe Ken will let me blog directly to you again.
It’s happening right before our eyes and it ain’t pretty. Our president has come to loggerheads with the weather. Hurricane Dorian to be specific.
Like some kind of modern day Don Quixote, our Don is locked in a twitter snit over a freaking weather map. He, or someone in his employ, modified a weather map with a sharpie to include Alabama as being in danger from hurricane Dorian.
Note the hand-drawn sharpie extension of the hurricane’s range into Alabama. Thus birthing a new Twitter trend #SharpieGate and endless humorous attacks on the president’s manipulation of reality.
Call me Trump-fixated in this ongoing series of Meditations On Trump that will be book one day, but as a political film satirist of 25 years in my other life with PBS creds, I could not resist making a Sharpiegate meme myself. This electric-doodle of mine mocks his idea to nuke Hurricane Dorian. What Colbert said in his monologue on the topic would be like creating a radioactive hurricane, a “Chernobyl on jet skis.”
Backtracking, #Sharpiegate was born of Trump’s pathetic and ridiculously predictable response to heavy criticism he took for tweeting this gem:
Then twenty minutes later NWS (National Weather Service) Birmingham tweeted:
None of this had to happen. It’s a tar baby birtherd from Trump’s super-sized ego that makes him utterly incapable of admitting he is wrong about anything. Anything, including climate change and the weather in general.
Now, many in the media are saying #Sharpiegate is a sign decline of our president and that we need to use the 25th amendment to take him down as being mentally unfit for office. But I was in DC to wish him well, despite all my misgivings, at his inauguration with my love Elizabeth and…
.. the day after the inauguration the crowds at Women’s March the next day far exceeded his. This drove Trump’s ego into a fury. Trump then famously started his term’s first press conference directing the obsequious Sean Spicer to deny reality, angrily claiming Trump’s was the biggest inauguration crowd in history. This despite photographs to the contrary. Sadly, the #SharpieGate thing is sadly nothing new.
So what’s at the root of all Trump’s persistent denial of reality? Three letters.
Yep. Trump is suffering from an outsized out of control “YUGE” ego.
Meditation teaches us the ego is like an elephant that will sit on your house unless you put it on a starvation diet. Only the soul must steer us on the river of life, because only the soul can see life objectively. And when you mediate you make the ego, sometimes called the monkey mind, take a backseat to your soul.
So while the world marvels and worries in terror about a Trump losing his grasp on reality, relax and realize it’s all fear based reporting out there. The media, as always, just wants to sell you anti-depressants and booze.
Gaia, the universe, God, whatever you want to call it is simply using Trump to teach us how petty and downright stupid the ego is. It’s a valuable lesson for an American society that fosters beating out your fellow man to have more material possessions and dominion over other people.
My advice? Forget Trump and go within to manage your own ego. Here’s some great mediation music to do it with. Aho.
You might be wondering, sitting there in the eerie glow of your computer screen, numb after reading a never ending stream of Trump’s mind-altering tweets, soon to be amplified and rebroadcast by an inflamed right and left media, both scarce on integrity in the quest for niche revenue,”How the heck can Trump’s believers still be supporting him?
Worse, you’ve been blindsided by an uncle, a lover, a parent and/or friends who, no matter which of Trump’s latest train wrecks you share, provocatively itching for a fight at dinner, only responds, “Pass the mashed potatoes.”
The good news? You’re not alone.
Before we dive in, I do not suggest you share this blog with your personal Trumpie. No, this blog is just for you; the oh so bright bulb who sees Trump for the imperfect human old dude he truly is, versus the fire breathing orange dragon he is made to be in the media, out for ratings dough.
Looks like we made it to facing up to the cold hard fact that having our friends and family firmly entrenched in the Trump column is no simple matter.
A GUIDE TO REGAINING YOUR SANITY AFTER YOUR FRIENDS AND LOVED ONES FELL UNDER TRUMP’S INFLUENCE
First thing to realize about your recently, or not so recently, minted Trump supporter in your life is not to shame or blame them for their belief Trump is a hero. Realize they are on their own spiritual journey and have not grown horns and a tail because they like Trump’s, uh, unique style.
In case you’ve been blissed out in Bali and missed the memo, it’s a low grade uncivil war out there, spirit folks, and Trump’s brash thorny persona is oddly comforting to some people in your life. He’s the meanie-in-chief while they go about having a normal life.
Or perhaps the Trump backer in your life may have fallen victim to the fact that most humans LIKE to hear what they WANT to hear. You have to admit that Trump, love him or leave him, does a helluva job of keeping up the morale for his troops with a constant flow of lies they want to hear.
You see, and you will see more and more and more of the new Mr. T whether you want to or not each day up to and past November 3, 2020, win or lose, because Trump has amassed a huge war chest for his 2020 elections. Accept (talking to myself here too) that his MAGA loving peeps, and the corporations that play both sides, believe he is doing something that serves their agendas enough to give him buckets of unprecedented cash to be all up in our faces.
Will Trump win in 2020? Who knows? The Dems certainly are not winning despite what polls might say, because Trump backers typically do answer honestly who has their vote to some stranger on the street or over the phone.
Rather than bellyache to your main Trumpie, or falling into despair and frustration,do something positive with your own gifts. Shameless plug: That’s why I am making a protest film called SOAP & TOOTHBRUSHES about the plight of the refugee families. The hero is a Christian Republican for whom the mistreatment of kids has been her breaking point. All donors will be featured in a special thanks in the film’s credits.
Trump’s 2020 war chest treasure allows him to outspend all the Dems combined, plus all celebs vying for the media spotlight, dozens of times over. Add to this cyber onslaught the conservative fear and fantasy provider FOX News, and their near 100% 24/7 backing for anything Trump says or does and, well, and it is far too its easy to see life is not going to get any simpler during these overheated elections.
Bottomline it’s more important than ever that you seek to eat right, exercise, get out in nature, share love with real people and stay upbeat. Gird your auric field with frequent meditation and prepare to be fire hosed!
To help you #fightthepsyop I highly recommended viewing the brain cleansing documentary THE GREAT HACK on Netflix.
Watching THE GREAT HACK series offers the gift of greater sympathy for Trump backers who could be under heavy influence from the highly intelligent people who invented propaganda, namely the Russians.
Now, one can hardly blame the Russians for retaliating after the decades of USA meddling in their affairs. So please save your righteous indignation and join with me in lovingly asking the Ruskies in meditation, “OK, you got us in 2016 but we won’t be falling for the Psyop again in 2020. Stop please, comrade.”
And speaking of the righteous, the evangelicals, maybe you’ve been scratching your head how they can support Trump after he cheated with porn star Stormy Daniels while Melania was pregnant? For one possible answer on this paradox, one the goes deeper than the “Trump’s our anti- abortion champion” schtick, I suggest you watch THE FAMILY on Netflix.
In this compelling documentary — not as well focused or written as THE GREAT HACK but still amazing — you’ll learn about the secret purpose of The National Prayer Breakfast.
This brave documentary correctly points out that every president since Eisenhower has been party to prayer breakfasts run by members of The Family. Which in turn supposedly uses this access to power to place people indoctrinated into their convenient version Jesus, an angry Christ on steroids, to quietly infiltrate key leadership positions in all levels of government, banking, law, religion, etc. The Family, hiding in plain sight, plays a long game of influence that will blow your mind with its deep reach and Machiavellian zeal.
Well, after reading this blog, and seeing THE GREAT HACK and THE FAMILY for yourself, I hope the world makes a little more sense.
Remember that this blog was for you. Go easy on the Trumpies in your life. Only time, circumstance and fate will awaken them not you. Soothe yourself that the world has not gone mad. Stay centered. Yield neither to far left or right and the extremes of either are not good for your mind and spirit. Aho.
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.
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.”
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.