June 4, 2020 Jumanji, Astronauts, Communist China’s Fifth Column

Confusion reigns with riots in the street stoked by Communist China’s Fifth Column and International Looter rings seeking the latest TV sets. It’s all happening while a couple of Astronaughts from Space X and NASA are advancing history with the latest manned flight. On the streets of New York women are pooping in public as a protest against their parents affluence.  The envy and greed are palpable.  Anxiety flares.  Already the poverty hits the third world because of first world truculence.  Black children facing starvation look at television images of Beverly Hills. Pedophiles salivste. A Brooklyn Democrat lawyer sets a government building on fire with a Budweiser Molotov cocktail.

I’m sitting in a virtual office in a northern rain forest. I’m trying to calm and reassure and keep the flow of medications coming: antidepressants, anti anxiety, anti psychotics, methadone, suboxone, naltrexone. anti seizure, viagra, cialis.  I am impressed with the acceptance and resilience of the mentally ill. There’s still  an increasing need for asylum. 

When I’m not looking at a screen and talking into an iPhone, I watch birds outside my window. Yesterday nuthatches. The day before cedar waxwings.I walk the dog each day . Yesterday I saw an immature eagle. He seemed confused as to what he was supposed to kill.  

Covid 19 is still with us.  The old and sick have continue in quarantine while the young and healthy return to work and play while others loot.  Herd immunity is hoped for. Moderna and Zeneca vaccines are promising.  There’s still nothing to fix stupid.  PM Trudeau continues his reign of pillage and the people love that he gives them free stuff,their futures, the futures of their children, the futures of their grandchildren.  Canada daily descends into communism.  Xi Jinpeng with the UN and George Soros wish to rule the world.  Trudeau turns his back on the Commonwealth and America and invites the Chinese Communist Party to work with him.  So far the sound of guillotines hasn’t come to Quebec.

It’s bizarre. This fictitious media reality drama, stranger than fiction, is funnelled into my bubble world through the same Satellite Internet that takes out my words of comfort and hope. The media creates crazy narratives. Competing industries of activism and marketing.  The new sacred cow is social justice. The worship of words like multi cultural and intersectionalism is reminiscent of a facelifted  70’s ‘running dog capitalism’ phrase book. The same old snake skins. Me first. Me first.  Ego and more ego.  I feel old as I listen and the young don’t.  

I pray and meditate.  I pay more and more taxes. Notice that the price of meat has doubled.  Still I’ve running water, heat, sunshine, Gilbert’s seems better today, the heart medicine hopefully working. It’s been a long week.  I’m weary by Thursday.  Have meetings this evening.  Will rally.  The chaos in the streets is unsettling. I wish we had India’s Shacta.  Our legal system has to be overhauled and brought into the 2020’s.  Our parliament has been closed so politicians always fat cats are paid to languish in palaces.  The drugs and booze flow in a constant palace party  Sophie sings, ‘Let them eat cake!” No transparency.  

I don’t know. It’s all hearsay. The more the media says President Trump lies, the more he twitters truth. Benghazi Hillary lost her appeal. Trudeau steals more guns. No ID is required to vote. Postrationalism truth is convenience. Taqiya helps. 

Here I watch little birds and get bum shots because they turn at the last moment. They all have ADD.  At least the big predators sit still for portraits. It always was thus.  

I’m hurting less today.  The pain was such I couldn’t breathe and lay for a while to let the spasm go. I took Tylenol and Ibuprofen and stayed still till the spasm passed. I wondered if it was when I lifted the piece of paper turning. It’s hard to walk.  I’m waiting for a special chair. Sitting on the couch working has been a special kind of stupid. It’s all psychosomatic. But the fear is less now. The tension passing.  Covid 19 is out there. It can kill me but I’m growing used to it like patients describedthe sounds of war in the streets of Sarajevo and the streets of Belfast.  I’ve hear so many refugees with stories of valour and shame.  

Meanwhile I’m here watching little birds and walking my dog and have nothing to complain about. My mother would say that to us as kids. You have nothing to complain about when we would whine. If we cried in a mood she would say, if you want something to cry about I’ll give you something to cry about. The we would laugh. My mother Irish. My father Scottish. Both true Canadian.

My aunt would say count your blessings.

My mother would also  say ‘if you’re bored and have nothing to do’ you can peel the potatoes or clean the floors or do the dishes. That quickly got us out of the house. I spent my childhood handing wrenches to my father and my brother.  Back then being an assistant was a glorious thing. Now everyone is entitled to being a CEO.  

I’m happy I suppose.  I’m not ecstatic. I’m grateful. It could always be worse. It could be better. I could have my own spaceship.  I could be a space archeologist looking for ancient technology on distant planets finding the secrets of new energy sources and meeting blue people. Perhaps my next life.

Here it’s good. Thank you God. Thank you Jesus. Thank you Angel Michael. Thank you St. Francis. Thank You Mother Mary. Thank you St. Thomas. Thank you Saint Peter. Thank you saints of all religions. Thank you joy and hope.  God bless all. May the long time sunshine always surround you and the good light within you guide your way home.