Neither Past nor Denial are Solutions in an Age with Consequences – Headline

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My grandmamma insisted, the only way to change the past is to not repeat it.  I wish that was chiseled above our National Archives, rather than the self-fulfilling prophecy, What is Past is Prologue – for what does it profit America when Americans cement Red & Blue, Black & White or Rich and Poor labels on each other, if, during ruckus, nature gains the whole world, sans us.

In November 1859, the Origin of Species was published and humankind’s eternal fight over who or what owns eternity erupted into our evolutionary crevasse between church and state.  At its extremes, demanding we choose between cross and cleavage, ultimately banning the eternal truth we are.

Through Crusades, Civil, hot & Cold war dead, denial was ensconced in western civilization.  Nonetheless, there is one thing we can do about betrayals like, Nixon, Government is the Problem and forever oil wars:  not replace them with serial presidential treason, corporate lies and water wars.

How many mega tornadoes, gut-wrenching earthquakes or super hurricanes do we need to uncloud national vision and unclog individual hearing?  How often must California – its natural beauty, family homes and American citizens burn to death before we acknowledge we’ve ignored our way into America’s age of consequences – as it follows through on, Eat, Drink and Be Merry – for tomorrow was never guaranteed.

Strolling solo through the narrow streets in the tiny farming village of Hallenberg Germany – sometime between Nixon’s Watergate and Reagan’s Trickle Down, both paving the way for a trumped land – a charming farmer lady invited me in.  This living history echoed Jimmy Stewart’s Shenandoah, only the undertakers are a winnin’ it (war) – explaining farmers had been the only hope to save starving WWII German soldiers walking back to a lost homecoming.

But what if the farms and farmers aren’t there, as we blithely allow ourselves to disengage from the reality that, moneyed power pawns us off in wars for water they’ve fracked, air we’ve polluted and food, factory farms spoil.

America, in the residue of Bush/Cheney, can we envision refilling our half-full glass after emptying Trump/Pence?

Choosing to emulate violent rioters in the streets of Paris angry over fuel prices, will prove we’ve learned nothing from, The Day After characters playing, breaking news updates, as background noise, the days before.

When I was in college, from my 9/25 birthday through Thanksgiving, to Christmas and New Year’s was one big celebration with friends, Opera, Theatre and idyllic romance.  In this 21st century, the rush to shop, to ignore flashing red lights on school buses and to judgment, our fate awaits just beyond our resilience to recapture our humane essence with our misplaced humanity.

In 2007, I suggested my wife and I marry on Thanksgiving Day, guaranteeing I’d never forget our anniversary – not realizing, that year, the transient holiday had navigated to November 22nd.

She loved the idea, and for ten years celebrated both Thanksgiving Day and November 22 anniversaries – until 2018, when, once again, murder wedded Thanksgiving anti-Native-Americans with Dallas infamy.

23 November 2018, politicizing, Nature Bats Last, Politico reported, Federal scientists warned in a new report Friday that changes in the climate will disrupt the economies of every region in the country in the coming years – but, ignoring lessons of, Black Tuesday, it didn’t put a Bitcoin dent in our worship of, Black Friday.

Interviewing Conservation Biologist Guy McPherson, PhD, in 2016, 2017 & 2018, abruptly splashed the cold water dilemma of global Climate vs. America’s convenience addiction to over consumerism – in my face the facts.

Embracing Revelation as an invitation to value loving peace on earth, we’ll naturally cherish all life upon it – whether for fifty years or the twinkling of momentary enlightenment – because tears, regrets or looking back for what ifs, misuses what’s precious.

Better our lives, whatever their duration, prove Trump/Pence administration and its critical additional offense against life on earth, is not the final definition of American character – looming forever in the eternal debrief for – whatever forever may be.

Whether a nation that gases women and children seeking their American Dream, a people living the Gospel of Wealth, or perhaps even souls welcoming a new brief shining moment – passionately pursuing a life of excellence – it’s on us.





Trump’s ‘Gotta Behave’ — Headlined on

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In the resurrection of life are memories of terrible loss, often blinding us to the sometimes, subtle inspiration to carry on.  Is reason, wisdom whispering in our ear:  resist those who speak lightly of war, while hailing the chief of false prophecies, oblivious to the Cause Célèbre preceding The Pieta.

Descendants of generations of Passover, once again find humanity choosing between man’s inhumanity to man and the calculations by madmen.

Again, the world is in the hands of a composition of despots, Putin, Assad, Erdoğan, Kim Jong-Un and Trump, all as dishonest and unstable as they are perilously dangerous.  Senior citizens have witnessed reconstruction after man-made destruction, but the magnitude of both the insanity and efficiency of war has evolved well beyond even the Bush/Cheney Mushroom Cloud inflammation of bloodshed.

If dominion over earth is our commission, then we must resurrect the balance found in peaceful co-existence, before the pride of leaders induces the fall of nations.  Our immense power is the courage of true human kindness, not the ashes into which demagogues lacking conscience, human decency, reigning without roots in the reason of deep thinking, would entomb us.

If we can but divine this reality check:  the first shall be last and the last shall be first, we could escape the betrayal of, all for one and one for all, by the deception of America First.

It is in revelation that we discover the truth — most loss on earth is caused by humans who have lost sight of life’s greatest gift:  the opportunity to love, to share and to prosper in peaceful ensemble — little is beyond the reach of those with the vision and desire to see and progress forward embracing world peace.

Arguably, Donald Trump has some competition for being the most self-serving, needy of praise, inept President ever to occupy the White House, but with a lust for being the idol of mesmerized idolaters, while hovering his middle finger over nuclear launch codes, he is more terrible than any Ivan or Cesar – indoctrinating a child’s White House Easter Egg Hunt with, stronger and better…than ever before rhetoric, sad.

Emma Morano was born November 29, 1899.  In 2017, between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, on the 86th day of the Trump Administration, she died at the age of 117.  She lived to see humankind advance from ox drawn carts to automobiles; from Kitty Hawk to the Moon.  Ms. Morano survived Mussolini, two World Wars, The Korean Conflict and an attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II.

Emma Morano lived to hear of Trump’s election escalating global stress levels, threatening a new nuclear age Korean War, while seemingly diminishing both the need to hope for reversing Climate Change and imprisoning science behind the walls of Reactionary Nostalgia.

She lived to see a black looking president on TV and a TV personality – all Birther atwitter in the bewitching hours of alternative facts – lusting to bury the memory of his able predecessor.

Living eighty-four years longer than Jesus of Nazareth, Emma Morano undoubtedly knew, boisterous rattling of sabers, gesticulating war, defying The Ten Commandments, can deafen humanity to the world’s heart pounding memories of the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis – and even perhaps, short-circuit American conscientiousness to Russian connectors Paul Manafort and Carter Page.

Unlike Martha Raddatz, not all of us can bear witness to a Trump epiphany, following Assad’s horrific Siren Gas attack on his own people – Sean Spicer’s historical misinformation, notwithstanding.

Patriotic citizens encircle our Jericho government, marching to tumble down its wall of lies, knowing there is more MIA in America than Trump’s tax returns and Mar-a-Lago visitors’ log.

Beware, perched in-between Palm and Easter Sundays, an ancient giant observes the mad moves and moods of those having no idea how to orchestrate an end, without a finale.

Indeed, it is for us, to extract from any tomb of ignorance, the discernment of the marriage between Resurrection, Revelation and the joy of discovery in the laughter of children – for what will it profit America if we bomb the s**t out of any soul only to lose the whole world?