SpringBreak2020=PEARLHARBOR III

Now it’s 9/11/2021 and we have swapped our beloved house-cats for inhouse jihadi’s I presume..really not that much of a change when you think about it. Cats are fussy eaters, so are our new neighbors, as it turns out. One of our newest guests rescued from the obscurity and uncertainty of his resurgent, re-installed former government and its venerable infra-structural religious imperatives..post-President Trump! courtesy of the illustrious leadership wasted no time in complaining about the food he was getting from his new hosts (Uncle Sam). To provide for this unforeseen humanitarian situation, the present regime is preparing a new financial package to see to their care and feeding, that will eclipse L. Baines Johnson’s Great Society budget in a heartbeat (speaking of which, I have to go and take my nitro-glycerin pills, now, I’m having a bit of an episode at the moment, all because of the exertion caused by raising The Flag on this auspicious day, to honor the dead, please excuse me..okay, I’m better). So then, like our furry house companions – orange tabby named Mr. President, for example, recently relieved of his job as head of Home Defense, being ‘Kommandant’ in charge of the border with the mouses, a no man’s land – the asylum seekers, or, “These asylees..” (~oac) can now lounge around America all day, reading their religious directives, and destroying the furnishings at their leisure, –MEOW!

USS OMMANEY BAY JANUARY 4, 1945..Some people did soemthing (to my dad’s boat!)

EVERY-BOD-EE! EVERY-BOD-EE, EV’RY-BODY WANTS TO BE A CAT, “MEOW-MEOW”

MARXISTS, MARXISTS EVERYWHERE..We’re being divided!

I REMEMBER,I remember exactly where I was on 9/11 when all that peaceful religious sh** hit the fan..as usual, I was watching c-spam, and the Washington Journal had just segued – from the normal crack-o’dawn ‘coffee klatch’ interviews, and viewer feedback chit-chat, engaging with the local talking-heads from around the D.C. belt-way – to a LIVE! on-the-fly report about some kind of accidental stuff that happened involving an airplane with one of the Twin Towers, –also called TWC (sort of like the O.J. car-chase event/deal with all the schlock-house news-channels quickly glomming onto LIVE action coverage in real time, until it’s a hundred channels all at once, jabbering, pleading – as if he could hear – locked onto same eye-in-the-sky view of the white Bronco, lumbering down L.A.s freeways, L.A.P.D. in tepid pursuit, –“If they don’t fit you mus’ acquit”, Hello!) “..when what to our wondering eyes should appear, –?” no. It wasn’t Santa Claus driving his eight tiny reindeer, in harness, across the heavens, for all the little kids it was strike Nr. 2 by another malappropriated commercial jet-airliner, one of a hat-full of steals from a stable of pre-planned thefts at airports, here an there, for the purpose of mounting a cunning surprise attack at dawn..for Allah, Yay! ?I guess that would-habib some people doing something..right, Abdul? while ‘W’ reads from the storybook to the school children in their teacher’s stead at a public school in his brother’s personal state of Florida, for an alibi? -Ali Baba (Bush privilege you know, like ol’ King Joe). And! and then, little by little, as morning wore thin – thin to thinnest – some more people did some thing, some things..f.b.i. said it couldn’t be helped, amazing how that works (why do we pay them). Finally with all airports on lock-down to every American, the Saudi royal family skips back to, –Boom! shaka-laka-land (and we, the Americans, ate that); and a thousand and one Arabian dinner parties, like..2001: Spaced-out..pre-evolved humans, dancing in moon’s icy, nocturnal radiance around the tall skinny black thing, –it’s teaching, now you’re learning..so says Zarathustra!

CUE: THEME MUSIC, ROLL FILM! TRUST THE SCIENCE..

Jimbo!! I’ll alway love ya!” ~Scruffy da poet

“There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; there, with fantastic garlands did she come..of crow flowers, daisies, and nettles and long purples that liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead fingers call them:” (poem, excerpt from Hamlet, –Queen Gertrude’s speech on the occasion of Ophelia’s muddy death..Shakespeare’s inside joke to all the town drunks).

NOW!now, I don’t want to wind up in that insipid category – within sub-categories of uber-categories of social orders – alongside of some people who like, like to do some things, –like, blow stuff up! HOWEVER..I also don’t want to get named as a top nominee to get picked up off an open casting-call by some anonymous sub-contractor, to get the honor – for pay! – of a good, old-fashioned Youngstown ‘tune-up’, which seems to be the case wherever there is politics, whetter yous bees in a t’urt-world sh**-hole, or in Los Angeles, California (but I repeat myself), home town, by the way, to usc, my own alma mater..or one ovum, at least..about a dozen, actually, all told (btw, USC School of Cinema recently cut John Wayne from their list of esteemed Alumni’s – blotting out his former existence, and memory, like Yul Brynner’s dad did to his brother Heston back there in Hollywood around 1962 is my guess, and Anne Baxter pissing her pants over the banishment..sent him in the wilderness, her beau, with a stick because of some thing they dug up on him, some quote he gave to a PLAYBOY interview that was so anti-the-cancel-kulture axe..that he hadda be canceled, c’est la vie! da Duke).

Bye! see-ya!

But I digressed.

So what happened? Spring Break! that’s what happened, and the Third Pearl dropped..silently. I don’t have to spell it out what was the second surprise attack as I am confident, dear reader, you will infer as much..as I have plainly implied that, our work there is finished, Tonto. PEARL I and II were as shocking to our delicate American sensibilities as PEARL III was bland and bourgeoise by the comparison in the impressions it creates, lasting! though intangible, lackluster, there being no razzle-dazzle of ships being blown out of the tranquil fair-weather swells of inlet’d glassy blue ocean anchorages, that placid December 7 Sunday morning, Day of Infamy! nor could PEARL III proffer the salacious appeal of LIVE tele-vision coverage, broadcasting and re-broadcasting the chain of explosions on 9/11! carried on a thousand-and-one Arabian Tee-Vee networks, the,THE! shot heard ’round the world! and all of the rest of it. (I think I actually got sidetracked, there..but anyhow, as long as we’re having this interlude, here’s some advice: When you’re in jail and it’s your turn to have the remote..if it falls off your bunk onto the floor, don’t go down there and try to pick it up, –you’ll thank me later).

“Ahoy, Matey! and now I’m going’ to take you around behind the barn! woodshed..whatever.” ~’Poseidon Joe’ Joe Biden

So why Spring Break? you may well ask yourself, and everyone! if you’re dull of demeanor, that is; or maybe it’s simply you haven’t been back to school for awhile, –you intellectually deprivated waif, you! and totally missed out on the fundamental transformation’s that’s happened to all the campuses, and what passes lately for a campus life (since the complete take-over’s of the educational industry). And I get that! and their a real doozy! but let me tell ya..I hadn’t been back to college for awhile; so! in the presence of my father, I made my dying mother a death-bed promise to go back and finish my degree in FINE ART/USC, –after all their piles of cash that went for my tuition, and room&bored had failed to materialize me my diploma (I tend to lose interest in projects very quickly, I move on,ON! on the road; on account of restlessness..when you’ve in essence completed everything that’s basically been asked, finishing’s redundant..how it seems to me). Now let’s be clear! 9/11 didn’t kill Mom (she seldom left southern California so how could it have?); but all my hi-jinx in colleges over a span of thirty years, more or less, may have been a contributing factor..brawls with roommates, letters to the f.b.i., so on, and so on..Naked lunch (after the fact). So here I was, helping my widower father WWII navy hero with logistics, and whatever the good son does under such circumstances of maternal loss; and in this instance, landing back on campus at a relatively ripe old age my own darn self..and lo! and behold! I am finding my sovereign person getting a dose of the kutural shock-treatment’s, getting juiced! totally beyond necessity, you know, you know back to PEARL I: Is this trip really necessary?

THERE!

Gas rationing, I am of course referring to, which is a little sexy and romantic compared side by side with the socially transformative framework of PEARL III, under which, we must carefully – without the agency of any explicit public service announcements helping us to prioritize things – and thoughtfully take personal responsibility to ration brain-cells..our own! no booklets and coupons to clue us in we’re in a short supply..about to run out: Is this trip really necessary you know..so hold that thought! And every exposure to Geraldo’s input’s over the course of days, stretched to years stealing more (of our ability to think, to reason..whatever that was.) So here I am, new boy on campus, with my special circumstances under my arm, medically speaking, and elderly-challenged; and all the orientation brochures and pamphlets, and – before enrolling – being called on to take what amounts to a loyalty oath to the pre-WOKE generation credo of eggheads..about to arrive on the scene, –coming up on SPRING 2020 and Trump is still our president; and btw, I’m sending him hundreds of dollars off my free back-to-school Master credit card, drawing on the free grant monies to make my political contributions for the cause, ironic, huh? right?? So one of these pre-requisites for enrolling was watch teaching videos – on-line, of course – telling us how we are expected to behave in a bravely new trans-gender, trans-native, trans-Brainiac world, one in which the bathrooms, per se, aren’t bathrooms, but boys, in some cases, are girls..and vice-versa! no, it’s not traditional, no, not anymore, no, everything is special. EVERY THING! But, you know, the show goes on, so one needs must wade through all this complicated sexual-political rigmarole, and answer some questions like they want us to, while remaining intellectually honest, all the while, No! I never sold out The FAITH. And, spectacularly, the submitted responses I gave, as idiosyncratic as they must have seemed, to whoever/whatever (AI?), there, grading them, uh, –excuse me while I ingest another nitro pill, as I find it necessary, occasionally, with more and more frequency, as time goes by, to, to take my medicine..presently waiting to be scheduled for a little, ahem! procedure. Shortly. Oh! And I passed that test. A-a-nd..I digressed.

“Of all the gin-joints in all the towns in all the world..and she (pronoun?) walks into mine..”

But so what happened, okay it’s this! what happened is one week before SPRING BREAK 2020, we’re getting told of a something that’s a little irregular, –but not to be concerned! some thing..”There’s a thing out there, Bones..” thing about we’re being released from our daily on-campus regimen to Spring Break a week early; in a break from tradition going back, back,WAYBACK! to a day when the proto-humans are discovering fire, electing leaders, and improvising the manufacture of special tools, weapons and using them for making art, quick meals..and WAR! and after that week+the traditional week off, –for partying at Daytona Beach, or wherever, whatever floats your goat, they’ll let us know when we get to come back, back to school..on account of this virus thing, it’s all over FOX; and of course, cnn! so we can all BE SAFE or whatever. So we can breathe! Okay, was I clear on that? Good! a nice, short paragraph.


“BE SAFE”

Oh! so what happen, we never went back, the END..and all of the rest of it, separation anxieties from the schooling, societal alienations, postpartum depressions from no lectures in the actual halls, but on to ZOOM! etc..I think I might have even experienced some pre-menstrual cramping, but I’ve no medical documentation to make that case! so I’ll leave it out. I mean, how can I have that, anyway, when I can’t get a walk-in appointment to see the college nurse cause they won’t even let us walk onto the property anymore? because..COVID!!!!!! oh well. But what I’m saying is, and this is my big theory, the REAL BIG! my theory that the bogus virus bugaboo was the ultimate doomsday weapon..for a skimpy budget, in terms of actual resources invested. All they had to do is say There’s a thing and kill off a bunch of older people, which are expected to die off at some point in the relatively near future anyway; so at least they go out serving a sensible purpose, dying in harness, as it were..as fodder, floating the idea of overspreading germs everywhere! and no escape..to the end of sowing fear over the entire unchecked civilian populations reproducing at an alarming rate! plugging up all the plumbing in our greatly at-risk planet, but! though there’s a stench, these are organic contributions in the main. The earth..Earth day one, it’s all over. Seems a bit hysterical, and silly..but worked wonderfully, in terms of advancing plans according to the NWO protocols, –didn’t they? radical depopulation to save some, –maybe? Hm..

Outta here..bye, SPECTRE”

Now the interpretation! why this is PEARL III: We knew from Day 1 we were in an undeclared war with some..secretly, even; and engaged in open warfare with some others, some people who were doing some things (The Great War – TGW – so! the real war gradually dawning on us since the sell-out terms concluding WWII is with the government, “Beware the military-industrial complex..” (~D.D.E.) an undeclared war to be sure, but a war nonetheless; against an existential threat to preserve our very lives…LIVE FREE OR DIE! This is a war for the soul of The Republic..One nation under God. Rather than literal shots being fired, by the liberal’s, though, as was done by the British on her presumed subjects at Concord, –Our heroes! anyone pick up a history book, lately? hang onto that like grim death, if you did, as the bonfires of inclusiveness – inclusion, social justice, occlusion, equality, diversity’s, renewability, sustainability’s, ecumenicisms, etc., etc, –this like Hitler’s speech to the Reichstag, belittling, reciting, quoting..like a litany, the list of countries Prime Minister Chamberlain has asked for the dictator’s solemn promise to not attack – are being kindled for the degenerate literature to be retired..retired, once and for all, sucked up in the flames of tolerance, as history, again, repeats itself. But not like we’ve had it, as before..this time it’s the un-alarming phenomenon of frogs, frogs in a sauce-pan, filled to the brim with pure spring water, gradually raising the temperature, there, until boiling..invisible hand on the knob. Say HI! to your neighbor froggy’s. The so-called covid-19, as we are taught to say it, –the Chem-lab SEE&SAY! is this water we have been immersed in..is not dependent how you define IS. This is the WAR AND PEACE of short stories, Yes?

KLINGSTON TASTES GOOD LIKE A CIGAR-ETTE SHOULD, –LIGHT ME! IT MUST BE TONITE, JOSEPHINE, –WAR FOR A PIECE? NAPOLEONIC CODE..BYE-BYE, YUGOSLAVIA, GOTTA GO AND ATONE FOR MONICA, NOW, HERE COMES THE BOMBS, –SORRY! AL&HILL MADE ME DO IT,PEACE

UC BERKELEY..BACK IN THE DAY

EPILOGUE: So! Georgie-Porgie, pal o’mine! closes the book, leaving the kids and exiting, accompanied by his personal guard, –“..and to all a good night, HO-HO!” making for a bomb-shelter, where all good little presidents go under these circumstances; and all of the rest of it. And exactly 20 years later to the day the whole planet’s waving the white flag..for the love of Wuhan. Happy 9/11..guess, it was for naught? The Wuhan virus..soft-sell equivalent of nazi bombs with delayed fuses, dropped on and around London; except the only thing that blows up in our faces with it, here, in these cases, is our noteworthy lack of initiative and good old American How-to! to tackle the new slavery’s, being foisted on us, slavery, slavery from Manchuria, enjoy! PEARL’S I and II..December 7, 1941&9/11/2001, to PEARL III, Spring of 2020, Totalitarianism in slow motion, –FREEDOM IS SLAVERY!

“..and to all, a good night!” ~W.

(hi, Froggy, wut u think? did some people do something? is it warm in here to you or is it just me? “Don’t trust whitey!”)

~chris robertson, America’s poet (VOTED #1 Poet)

Published by scrunchymacscruff

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