My Thoughts

One of the finest pleasures of solitude is the absence of the insistent clamorous mob. Though there are some who find my refusal to join the herds of the masked and compliant in search of what I know not, I have so thoroughly enjoyed the sublimity of indulging my mind with rich ambrosia, food of the gods like no other. Along the way, I have been introduced to new friends, though never met, with whom I share a bond worth a lifetime of memories. What regret lies only in its newness; old friends are so hard to come by these days.

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My Thoughts

There are times for whom the poets rhyme. I am reminded of the mouse which Robert Burns once offered a wee bit of Scottish solicitude.

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men,
Gang aft a-gley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy.

My best laid schemes were to make copious notes on our daily meanderings but alas, it is Thursday and we sailed on Tuesday. Where the days and my plans went, like Burns, they have Gang aft a-gley (gone awry). The reality is, thirty-six or so hours of airports and airplanes plus nine hours of shifting zones and more wink than nod made for rather short temperament and an overwhelming demand to “sleep, perchance to dream” for more hours than I can now remember. And remember much, I cannot recall.

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My Thoughts

Arrived in Miami this morning, or I suppose to be accurate, the Miami airport. Accuracy matters, you know. Arrived at 7:00 am with a mere eleven hours to kill before leaving for Barcelona. There is only so much one can do in an airport, even one as modern and active as MIA. After having sat for six crowded hours in the most horrendous torture chamber ever contrived by man commonly called an airline seat, the last thing anyone has any desire to do is sit down on hard plastic. But that is what I found myself doing for a few minutes. Now that the Communist News Network has been replaced by the Nothing But Corruption fake news channel, it was interesting to see if there was a dime’s worth of difference. There wasn’t; not even a slug nickel’s worth to tell the truth.

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My Thoughts

We are off to see the wizard. Well, maybe not. We are, however, embarking on a long-scheduled soar across the pond and a sail from Barcelona to Athens. Hopefully, the smoke will not follow us on the jet stream. Even more so, three weeks from now, I earnestly hope someone with a few brain cells will put a serious damper on the hell fires consuming California that continues to spew smoke and ash on the fair state of Nevada. One can only pray and hope.

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My Thoughts

According to the most frequently cited critical race theorist, Ibram Henry Rogers, a.k.a. Ibram X Kendi, and his legion of anti-racist hucksters, I am a racist, but he is not. Any denial on my part is proof positive of my inherent racist cant, like the Kobayashi Maru[1] exercise, the “heads I win, tails you lose” no-win scenario. Sorry, Mr. Rogers and your ‘hood, but I, like James Tiberius Kirk, do not engage in no-win scenarios. Playing your game by your rules is a sucker’s bet, a no-win scenario which only fools dare to play.

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My Thoughts

More than a decade ago, I received sage advice which I have never forgotten but too often fail to remember. It is short and sweet but worth every letter—of which there are but two—and that is the simple word “N-O”. “Just say no.” How hard is that? And yet, so many of us hesitate out of fear of hurting someone’s feelings or what? Being cancelled? Or is it mere ambivalence? “You know, it is just not my problem.” When fear prevents us from just saying no, we accept a burden, a debt we did not incur of our own volition; we indenture our time and energy to the will of another.

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My Thoughts

I’m sorry, but is it just me or did I get up way too early and miss the last train back to the asylum? I don’t know about anyone else, but as Yogi Berra would say—did say—it’s seems like déjà vu all over again, and again, and again, and again…. Even a broken (analog) clock is right twice a day, but seems as though things have gotten so broke, I am beginning to doubt whether it is still possible for broke to be true or is it woke?

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My Thoughts

There is a new “old” show in town. The old show ran from 1977-1984. Called Fantasy Island, it starred Ricardo Montalban as the mysterious Mr. Roarke and Hervé Villechaize as his diminutive sidekick, Tattoo. The show always began with Tattoo pointing to the sky exclaiming, “Da plane! Da plane!” as the small aircraft fitted with pontoons landed and disgorged its guests. That was then, when guests could literally fulfill any fantasy they desired, though they rarely turned out as expected.

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My Thoughts

Americans have been terrorized now for 500 days by the tyranny of “unelected public health experts” and their constant, strident reliance on the “science.” It is enough to make you sick—and it has, and “The beatings will continue until morale improves.” It is 500 days too long and its needs to stop … immediately!

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My Thoughts

Folks, I am neither a left- nor right-wing conspiracy theorist or nut job (though I am sure my public denial must make it so to those who would wholeheartedly believe otherwise) but I do believe the overwhelming evidence reveals there are indeed dark forces (re: deep state, big tech, and the complicit media) across this country and around the globe deliberately and maliciously playing the public for fools. Now is not the time to close your minds to what is going on, now is not the time to sit back, relax, and eat bonbons. Now is the time to keep an open mind and above all else to stay informed, listen to alternative sources of information (not the mainstream media or big tech social media,) and make up your own mind on what is going on. The worst thing you can do is remain uninformed and firmly convicted of that which you know little or nothing for that is what the powers that be are counting on the most.

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