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Category Archives: NWO

‘…Feelin’ like a cowboy,
and lookin’ like a slob…”

Livin’ In Hope
The Rutles

I hate to sound confused….but there’s all this talk about a new Civil War in America.

I have to ask…how would this all play out?…(if I may be so bold to question this.) The last Civil War was between the north and south. There were regions of conflict. If you went to the south, you’d have to exchange your currency….just like you have to do to go to London today.

Is it a war between antifa and the white nationalists?

I have to ask….who has the guns here?

300 billion rounds on one side and…umm…well,…in any event…how would this play out? Throwing bottles of pee from the other side?

It will not end well for one side and it will be quick.

(I need to know how to plan my vacation….that’s all. That’s why I’m asking.)

Methinks it will just be a fart in the wind for the snowflakes.

(I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to offend anyone by using that term…what term?….”snowflake”, of course…)

I don’t want to send anyone to their safe-space to play with Play-Doh as a result of this post.

I just wanna know how to plan my damn vacation!

(Sorry I swore…I didn’t mean to offend anyone by that….)

Anyway…

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“I can make the runner stumble,
I can make the fire grow dark,
And I can make every time and the son of a whistle,
and I can make all the the stadiums rock!

…and I’m never gonna make it like you do.
Making love out of nothing at all….”

Air Supply
Making Love Out Nothing At All

(No Google search for lyrics on this. I winged it….sorry.)

I was married during the Reagan administration. We were taught to be polite.

But when someone at a Burger King drive through is told to pull up because their specialty order will take a few extra minutes….it doesn’t mean that they should pull up by a mere two feet….thus-by blocking the person with the regular order in.

Honk.

Honk.

Honk, honk!

(Car moves up and lets me out of the way of his fat ass.)

(Asshole.)

Cripes.

Idiot.

Anyway…

“She keeps Moet et Chandon
In her pretty cabinet
‘Let them eat cake’, she says,
Just like Marie Antoinette.
A built-in remedy,
For Kruschev and Kennedy,
At anytime an invitation
You can’t decline…”

QUEEN
KILLER QUEEN

I was standing in the checkout line today. I was buying some Chuckles and milk. I had to be at work at three. It was two forty-five. The woman in front of me was taking her good sweet time producing the payment for her choices.

I looked down at a refridgerated case next to the cashier line.

I saw some bottles that were emblazoned with the words: “Moet et Chandon”.

All of a sudden, finger-snaps started playing my head.

Sonofabitch. That’s what Freddie Mercury was singing about the whole time! I heard the words a million times before but couldn’t understand them.

I never knew what the hell he was saying!

Moet et Chandon!….Champagne!…of course!!

$53 bucks a bottle!….shuhh.

Just gimme my Chuckles and milk.

…and you learn something new everyday, don’t ya?

Moet et Chandon.

Who knew?

Anyway….

“Breathe,…breathe in the air,
Don’t be afraid to care,
Leave, but don’t leave me,
Look around, choose your own ground…”

Pink Floyd
Breathe

We have now gotten ourselves into a sticky situation. I’m speaking, of course, about the current and dangerous trend that we find with the present state of candy production. It seems that the faceless denizens of corporate America have decided that another check-mate should be incorporated against the sheeple.

Hershey Candy has just perpetuated one of the biggest conspiracies in the history of candy production. The aerated chocolate bar.

They say they invented it, in spite of the fact that aerated chocolate already accounts for $500 million in confectionary sales worldwide. That doesn’t matter when a conspiracy is afoot. It’s what you see at the moment. You believe it because the TV tells you it’s true.

Let’s be blunt and to the point. They are pumping free air into your candy and you are paying for less chocolate that is replaced by a somewhat chocolate flavored air bubble.

It’s the same with White Castle hamburgers. They give you a tiny hamburger and then,…hold the phone here,…poke holes into that tiny hamburger and call them “flavor holes”. These flavor holes are filled with the same air that they fill the Aerated Hershey bar with. And that air is free, people. You are paying for something that is free. The annual profits on free air could possibly reach upwards to the equivalent of 12% of our national defense fund.

We see more air in our food all the time. So much so that we become blind to it after a while. A half-gallon of ice cream is no longer a half-gallon. It’s smaller than a half-gallon, isn’t it? But you still pay the half-gallon price. Why is that?

When a small potato chip bag gets opened, it’s filled 1/4 the way with potato chips,…the other 3/4 the way with,…you guessed it! Air. Free air. Free Air that you are paying for, once again, with you hard earned farthings.

The last time I checked, air was free. It’s all around me until, say, someone crop-dusts me in a Best-Buy or a low-level liquor store and/or elevator.

To put this rare commodity (known as air) into your tires, you have to pay for that. You pay 75 cents for all the free air that you can aerate your tires with in your three minute allotted time. The problem with tires, of course, is that you don’t eat them but they need to be aerated nonetheless. It’s air and it’s channeled,…but it’s still air. It’s still air and air is free. You are now paying the owner of the property for that free air!

(It says so right on the sign: Air-75cents.)

Branching out into other directions of our God-given free air, there is another commodity that is worth mentioning here. Water. Water is free. Water is all around us. We need water to live. Water is another commodity that we now pay for.

Let’s hearken back to the aerated candy bar for a second. They put it in your candy and you pay for it and get less. The same with water. They put frozen water in your drink and you pay a tariff for that. They tell you it’s free,…while automatically charging you for it.

How, you say? By the real estate in your glass. You get less Sangria when they fill it with free ice (frozen water) than if there was no frozen water in the equation. Sans ice, you get blotto’d. With ice, you get a slight buzz. If you got the ice, you just got ripped off because a good Sangria should really level you out. It’s their contention that it is desirable for your glass to sweat with coolness.

This is the propaganda that is put forth. Wine with lime and orange tastes exactly the same after two sips whether it be iced (frozen watered) or not.

People, we need to be proactive on this dumbing down situation that we currently find ourselves in. We need to stand up and take control of our free, God-given elements that we need to survive. The Reichstag burned in a day. The government leaders are doing this to us subtly. We now pay for air and water in consumables.

This tyranny will not stand!

Anyway…

“And the sign said “Long-haired freaky people need not apply,”
So I tucked my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why,
He said, “You look like a fine upstanding young man, I think you’ll do,”
So I took off my hat, I said “Imagine that. Huh! Me workin’ for you!”
Whoa-oh-oh!……”

I was toiling at my job today when the song, “Signs”, scrolled across the ol’ pod. It has been a standard for the counter-culture for as long as I can remember. The song has spanned generations and still gets radio play with great frequency.

Some things birthed by The Five Man Electrical Band are just born to stay, I guess.

Not a bad song, on the whole, but during the 3 or so minutes of the song, it actually gives a black eye to the counter-culture movement rather than praise it…as it was originally intended to do.

The irony of it all is really quite sobering if you think about it.

My witness to the song is neither to the right or the left. I actually, truth be told, swing to the conservative end of the spectrum whilst doing my best to look like a lefty of the old guard. I guess what I mean is that I look like a hippy, yet tend to vote non-Democrat….and it hasn’t always been that way either. There was a time I was truly a Democrat. I understand where they’re comin’ from, man.

The thing about this song is found in it’s human-ness. It’s just the typical selfish attitude of, “I want what I want when I want it”. We all fall victim to that once in a while,…but when it’s enhanced and condensed into a three minute song, there’s just something about those lyrics that can truly grate on a person’s nerves.

Here’s what I mean.

We take this first set of lyrics:

“And the sign said “Long-haired freaky people need not apply,”
So, I tucked my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why,
He said, “You look like a fine upstanding young man, I think you’ll do,”
So I took off my hat, I said “Imagine that. Huh! Me workin’ for you!”
Whoa-oh-oh!

Granted, this young man is angry for some reason. Since the song starts there, we do not know the cause of his anger. You can even hear it in his voice when he starts singing. He already has a chip on his shoulder.

We can garner, due to his piqued fury, that the sign he read may have been paraphrased due to his anger. But we don’t know this, do we? It could have very well said, “Clean-cut gentlemen wanted for food preparation. Must wear hair-net. Interested applicants please apply inside. Thank You.”

If he were to truly put up a sign that said, “Long-haired freaky people need not apply,”, he would probably have a law suit levied against him by the ACLU,….which could be pretty pricey when it comes to court costs. Small business owners tend to know when to pick their battles in cases of possible legal interjection and potential legal injunctions.

Be that as it may, because of his attitude, he felt he had to play some shenanigans with the shop owner or restauranteur who kindly complimented him on his appearance and offered him a job so he could EARN some money….but then the young man decided hat the best course was to deride and ridicule the person who was offering him gainful employment.

Moving on….

“And the sign said anybody caught trespassin’ would be shot on sight,
So I jumped on the fence and-a yelled at the house,
“Hey! What gives you the right?,
To put up a fence to keep me out or to keep mother nature in,
If God was here he’d tell you to your face, Man, you’re some kinda sinner!….”

Now, here our hero decides that it’s a dashed good idea to provoke home-owners by testing the limits as to how far he can go before the owner of the property actually pulls a gun and shoots him because he feels threatened by him. It becomes a wanton disregard to his own safety to do this because the right to bear arms is very clear in matters of self-defense. People have a right to protect themselves from unstable people who tread onto and into their property uninvited. There are trespassing laws, young man. They are on the books and have been for a very, very long time. Even in 2014, people can own property,…and have the right to protect that property and the souls that dwell on that property.

As a side note, the declaration about whether or not God is here shows a true lack of theological knowledge. To say “if” means you’re not too sure. If you invoke the name of God and brazenly presume to know what He would say in this particular given instance, then that means you have a simple, cursory understanding of who He is,…and your presumption that you can actually anticipate what He would say truly makes you seemingly above God….or greater than. That is called, “Mania” my friend. They have medication for that now.

Moving on,…

“Now, hey you, mister, can’t you read?
You’ve got to have a shirt and tie to get a seat,
You can’t even watch, no you can’t eat,
You ain’t supposed to be here,
The sign said you got to have a membership card to get inside….
Ugh!….”

Here we get into your philosophy, young man. In those five lines uttered, you have turned the looking glass upon yourself. In your reckless abandon of fury, you have decided that any and all rules and regulations are simply fallow and unjust because it doesn’t include your unblemished and regimented train of thought. Some places, if you don’t have a tie, they give you one free of charge! As far as membership cards go, I can’t go to the local BJ’s because I never applied for a card. If I were to take the time to do so, I would be admitted. I just don’t know what I would do with that much Ramen or spaghetti sauce, that’s all. I choose not to get a card,…but I can if I so desire. It takes all of five minutes. You have much more than five minutes available,….you just turned down a job….

Moving on,…

“And the sign said, “Everybody welcome. Come in, kneel down and pray,”
But when they passed around the plate at the end of it all,
I didn’t have a penny to pay,
So I got me a pen and a paper and I made up my own little sign,
I said, “Thank you, Lord, for thinkin’ ’bout me. I’m alive and doin’ fine.”
Wooo!…..”

And here is where we come full circle, my job-less friend. Need I remind you that not more than 2 minutes ago, you were offered gainful employment which you turned down with no chance of another interview. That’s why you didn’t have a penny to pay,….which, theologically speaking, you are not paying anything. You are tithing. That is supposed to be 10% of your total income. Now, say, if you found ten dollars in the street, you would be obliged to “tithe” one dollar,….and your actions in that would then be multiplied. It is the only area in which God says we can “test” Him. But you already know that since you know what God is gonna say before He says it, correct?

So,…you see, my loud-mouthed friend,…..that commie crap only goes so far. We are not communist yet,…..close, but not yet. My advice to you is to go back to school, get a degree and become a part of society. The way you live is way too hard and way too in the dark. I applaud you for your determination to stick to your principals, but they are doing you more harm than good.

You can still be a rebel. There’s no problem there. You can smart off to the boss when you have seniority. Just focus a bit. Gain some footing,…but this moving around ten times in a three minute song just ain’t gonna pay off, man. Tom Hayden and Abbie Hoffman had to pay their dues to become credible.

You should too.

Anyway,…

“So take the photographs, and still-frames in your mind.
Hang it on the shelf of good health and good time.
Tattoo’s of memories and dead skin on trial.
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while.
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right,
I hope you had the time of your life….”


Green Day
Good Riddance (The Time Of Your Life)

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Know what I miss?

Motorcycle cops. They just don’t exist anymore, do they? They’d pull up next to you at a stoplight and then they would look to the right or left and then give you one of those silent, almost imperceptible nods as if to say, “Hey. What’s goin’ on, man?”…..from behind mirrored sunglasses and from behind a mustache. I miss that.

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Now, our police are militarized. They drive tanks and Humvees. They need them to carry stun guns and AR-15s and that kinda shit…..They’re not as personable when they drive those. They still look to the right and to the left,…it’s just that,…umm,…you don’t.

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Know what I miss?

Carburetors. That finely designed and fragile fuel-injection artifact that could take all sorts of heavy-duty abuse. Nothing could be better on a frigid winter morning than to walk out of your house with a freakin’ can of ether in one hand and a freakin’ “Goody” comb in the other. You pop the hood to your Chevelle, take off the BIG, ROUND AIR CLEANER, pop that rocker back and spray that ether into your carb. You stick the ass end of the “Goody” comb in to hold the rocker in place, jump into your car and fire it up, replace the air filter and you’re on your way, baby. (This action, btw, would take 15 seconds.)

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Now, we have the E-checks. There’s a computer in your car that you are REGULATED to have checked (at certain intervals) to see if there is any hi-jinks going on in the car when the EPA isn’t looking. This organization’s sole purpose is to be a watch dog over your automobile. If they detect ether, you don’t get your stickers, Mister!! And you will pay a mechanic dearly as penance.

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Know what I miss? T.V’s (Television’s)”The Flying Nun”. Sally Field was so great as that tiny troublemaking nun that could fly when she lifted up her little nun,…habit,…hat…thing. I miss that. She would be shooting marbles with dirty little orphans and, at a moment’s notice, she would be flying through mountains to get to the scene of some untowardly actions so she can single-handedly take down a Peruvian drug lord. I miss that. I miss “The Flying Nun”.

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Now we have The Little Kardashian Sisters Of The Poor doing sex on the internet with Vegas taking odds on how long one or two of the marriages would last along with battles in court to keep “The Flying Nun” off the air in re-runs because the atheists are supposedly “offended” by her presence on THEIR air waves.

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Know what I miss?

The Clash. The only band that mattered and who sweated onstage to make a living and a change. These guys played Bonds in NYC for two weeks straight because the promotor “oversold” all of the shows. They wanted to honor every last ticket sold so they stayed until every last fan was played to. (1982)

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Now we have Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus “who just don’t like going to work”,….as said so very appropriately by Sir Paul McCartney. They were chastised by him! Chastised, I say! Chastised by Sir Paul himself!!

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Know what I miss?

I miss the days when you could actually buy vinyl. The art work on the album cover was always second to none. Hell, I miss the days when you could actually buy a cassette tape. Hell, I even miss the days when you could buy a CD!

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Now we have downloadable music that can’t be burned to a CD and can only be listened to on certain “devices” that you have to prove you own before you can do it.

Know what I miss?

Everything.

Anyway,…

“I may be vile and pernicious,
But you can’t look away,
I make you think I’m delicious,
With the stuff that I say,
I’m the best you can get,
Have you guessed me yet?
I’m the slime oozin’ out,
From your TV set,….”


Frank Zappa
I’m The Slime

The top ten things I learned this week:

10. I find it ironic that the guy from the LA Clippers gets recorded without his knowledge talking about “blacks” and gets banned for life by the NBA,….yet Mark Furhman knew he was being recorded and used the “N”-word with reckless abandon,…yet, he is now the ultimate go-to talking-head guy who has numerous book deals. He is the only one of that whole trial that has triumphed….repeatedly. Why?
The mind boggles.

9. I haven’t met a dog yet that doesn’t like sharp cheddar cheese. I know, like, a million dogs and they all like sharp cheddar cheese.

8. I believe that the song, “A Day In The Life” is probably the finest Lennon and McCartney song ever recorded. I welcome discussions about that.

7. There is something truly sublime about a well-constructed hamburger. It can be simple and elegant, yet sloppy and decadent. It’s the construction that matters…..except for that STOOOOPID BIG KING that they sell at Burger King. That has to be the worst hamburger on the face of the planet! Don’t buy it. It’s a rip-off of the Big Mac without all the nuances of a Big Mac. It sucks!!! Just go to McDonald’s. Geez. Such a dumb hamburger….

6. I find that if I don’t “ball” my socks up into pairs after I do laundry, I really question the cleanliness of a single sock when I pull it out of a drawer.

5.I recently came to the conclusion that my autographs of Bob Woodward and G. Gordon Liddy are my most prized autographs. They are under the same piece of glass. And they both addressed me personally….so I know it’s not an auto-pen.

4. I played my piano for four hours straight last Sunday. That must mean I am making my way out of my depression…even though I have to cut my grass and the forecast says rain for the next four days. That’s called, “teetering”. That’s enough to send me crashing back down.

3. Doris Day is still alive. Why?

2. I bought a six pound can of green beans this week. Why? Because I could,…and the fact that it was only three dollars.

1. Psychopaths usually have an encyclopedic knowledge of music. I don’t know why this is.

Anyway,….

“And no one knows a thing about my life,
I can come and go as I please,
And if I want to, I can stay,
Oh, or if I want to, I can leave,
Nobody knows me, Nobody knows me,
Nobody knows me Oh, oh…”


Morrisey
Jack the Ripper

Here are the top ten things I learned this week:

10. They still haven’t found that plane. Between the DHS, the TSA, the NSA,….they still couldn’t find that plane. CNN seems to think it was sucked up by a black hole apparently. (CNN, if you have nothing constructive to say, just keep your big yap shut, ok? We know you’re hurting in the ratings, but don’t run at the mouth, ok?) Tell you what,…I’ll give them my phone. It can tell me exactly where I am on the planet. It can also tell me exactly where I need to go on the planet. It’s theirs….if it means the people are still alive and sitting in a hangar somewhere,….which they probably are. Cripes, almighty,….losers lose a plane. Unbelievable. It’s tonnage!!! TONNAGE!!!!

9.I have to make a recipe for a vegan tomorrow. I’m scared. I have never heard of the ingredients. Quinoa, nori, ferro, lentils. This frightens me. I might have to serve the vegan cucumbers and tomatoes if this doesn’t pan out. I’m gonna need nerves of steel to pull this off. i can just hear the theme song for Mission Impossible playing while I make it.

8. Lizzie Borden was one cold woman. She had the fortitude to actually lay that axe into her old man’s head. I had to go see her a few years ago. She was nice. We played War. I won. We talked a bit….

7. It was suggested that I shave my beard today. My response?….”That would uncover a whole lot of ugly”.

6. The rig. It’s all plugged in and it works.

yeah, baby.

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5. I remain the last person in my neighborhood who has yet to cut his grass. I guess that makes me the official hill-billy for the next year,….again.

4. I got rid of my seat covers that were emblazoned with “The Who”. It was just time. They looked stupid. What am I? Ten?

3. I cleaned my car out and finally found my CD, ‘Annie Lennox’s Greatest Hits”….It’s about time.

2. Jack the Ripper was a bad-ass. What a name, huh? “Jack the Ripper”. That’s like the genius of naming a band, “The Clash”.

1. Think I’ll uncover a “whole lot of ugly” today.

Anyway,…

“Well, I guess I should confess that I am starting to get old,
All the latest music fads all passed me by and left me cold,
All the kids are talking slang I won’t pretend to understand,
All my friends are getting married, mortgages and pension plans,
And it’s obvious my angry adolescent days are done,
And I’m happy and I’m settled in the person I’ve become,
But that doesn’t mean I’m settled up and sitting out the game,
Time may change a lot but some things may stay the same,….


Frank Turner
Photosynthesis

Ya know,..when you go to a resale shop, you kinda expect that the wares they sell will be in some sort of systematic order. When it’s not, it’s nothing more than a garage sale, isn’t it?

When the lighting is sub-par, it makes you feel like you’re bein’ cheated. I hate that crap.

Why is it that most of the furniture smells pretty moldy. You wanna sell me something? Make sure that it doesn’t smell bad, OK? It ain’t that hard. There’s this little thing called “Febreeze”. Spray it a few times a week. Is that that hard?

Ya know,….I really think the French Connection is the greatest movie ever made Why do I think that? Who cares? Do you care? I don’t freakin’ care. It’s just a damn good movie. What? Do I have to explain myself?

Good night.

Just so ticked off today.

Anyway,….

“…But our minds won’t really be blown,
Like the blow that’ll gitcha, when you get your picture,
On the cover of the Rollin’ Stone…”


Dr Hook
The Cover Of The Rolling Stone

I began my day today in my usual fashion. I rolled over and started looking at the news on my ipad.(That was after waking up and dreading the day ahead, of course.)

I began to hit the various news apps to see if anything was happening. Like the sky falling or somethin’ like that. I tripped over to Drudge and something caught my eye.

This:

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Elaine Benes on the cover of the Rolling Stone,…with just a hint of butt crack showing. I knew there was a reason this was on Drudge other than the butt-crack that was displayed. I was betting it wasn’t an outrage piece of her butt. No. There was going to be a deeper story than that. It was on Drudge, after all.

And I was right,…I was right.

It did have something to do with the cover. The story was about the fact that the Constitution on her back was signed by John Hancock.

Yes….Yes, indeed.

They screamed, “Dolts!!, How stupid are they over there? What were they thinking? Are they that stupid?”

The rage, of course, was well deserved since John Hancock never signed the Constitution. He signed the Declaration Of Independence. That’s where John Hancock’s John Hancock is, not on the Constitution.

Me, being who I am, sat back and sagely thought about John Hancock’s signature emblazoned willy-nilly upon Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s supple left kidney.

I can’t help but think there is a bigger picture with this picture.

Let me explain.

At some point, someone put the facsimile of the Constitution on to her back, right? Then, probably the same somebody went to the Declaration of Independence and removed the image of Hancock’s Hancock and then placed THAT facsimile upon her kidney.

So, as Drudge, The Blaze and Breitbart all scream and ridicule about Rolling Stone’s daftness, the genius lay in the fact that Rolling Stone knew all along that it wasn’t a mistake because the action had to be taken to actually marry the two separate facsimiles. You just know some Iago/lackey whispered into Count Jann Wenner’s ear and said, “John Hancock’s John Hancock wasn’t on the Constitution. It was on the Declaration Of Independence, my leege.”

To which he was waved away with extreme prejudice.

It was a conspiracy in the truest sense of the word. They knew what they were doin’, but retreated into plausible deniability. This was their statement in regards to the faux pas that transpired in the high towers of Rolling Stone:

‘The Declaration of the Independence is on the other side but we couldn’t fit in all the signatures,’ said Wenner Media Publicity Director Melissa Bruno said, the Daily News reported.

This was Julia’s response to the mistake via Twitter:

She tweeted: ”In my defense, ‘I was in a drunken stupor,’ #crackexcuse.”

How endearing, huh? They can laugh at themselves about such a stupid mistake,…that they knew they were making when they made it.

I guess my question is, what does this mean? This smacks of NWO conspiracy. An innocuous Rolling Stone cover that merges the two defining documents of this country onto a hot (but irrelevant) actresses’s back and near butt-crack for the sake of a joke.

It just makes it all dashed uncomfortable to ingest considering where this country is right now. It’s un-nerving, to say the least. In addition, the Constitution itself has gone through the ringer in the past few years. We all know this. This isn’t something that I’m making up as I go along.

Anyway,….