Freedom, Liberty, and Other Observations

©Freedom, Liberty and Other Observations

-Fact or Fiction-

By BR Chitwood

Only a few of us know and it once seemed there was no earthly reason for anyone to know, not that large numbers of people during these evil days would believe, or, maybe care to believe.

However, having been years in the military, attending Classified and Non-Classified Briefings, all the way up to apersonal clearance’ of Top Secret data I shall ask for your patience while I give you here in these few pages one of those aforementioned Briefings that will serve you better in understanding the world of Large Governments, the reasons behind their operations.

Who am I?

Why am I writing all of this down for the world to read? Back there in those young titillating years of youth, it was all so mysterious, so fulfilling to be part of ‘something’ monumental, so important, so necessary for  our country’s readiness and safety, so incredibly ‘cloak and dagger’ that those of us participating had to sign some scary ‘legal do not do this and that’ documents that, violated, promised fines and long prison terms for infidelity, if not the possibility of death.

 With the details I write about here, all true, certainly scary enough, you can understand my great pride in serving this wonderful country.

Beautiful and Wonderful, but with some of its parts needing replaced, oiled, and repaired!

Why?

Why, indeed?

Because it is time for the world to know some of the truths and fictions under which they live.

Who am I to tell you these truths? Just a patriot, and, it is ‘my truth as I see it’!

Part of me is a kid who grew up in poverty-stricken Appalachia, somehow surviving a bitter, harsh, and ugly home environment and the aftermath of The Great Depression.

Another part of me? A man hungry for family, love, some stability, and a few pieces of the American Dream. Some of that part I partially fulfilled, family, few pieces of the Dream: college degree, kids to love and cherish, some small, modest business successes.

Finally, in the Military World, with a myriad of testing, I would be placed bewilderingly into a position that would involve USA National Security, and, after months of FBI ‘life-checks’, I achieved a coveted Top- Secret Clearance and began a second phase of schooling.

Without sharing with the readers details of my varied duties in several duty locations, I was privy to some very interesting covert projects, educational and nefarious programs that whetted my appetite and excitement.

This is the extent of personal background information. Now follows what I consider the meat of this thesis.

This small exposé will only focus on one aspect of a government educational program that in some ways staggered me, the Causes and Effects ramifications entailed therein, and the C&E of street violence.

***

No one needs from me history lessons, so let me be as succinct as I can without stretching believability too far.

You watch your televisions, and, if you watch the best channel for news, Fox News (now, you really know me, and hate me if you must!), you know what is happening in our own United States of America… Some of our ‘Lib brothers and sisters of Congress’ say it’s all made up.

A trio of policemen in Minneapolis, Minnesota arrests a man, cuffs him, and one of the cops puts him on the ground and keeps pumping his knee into a most vulnerable part of the man’s neck. The other two cops are busy doing other odd duties while the handcuffed man dies from the knee-pumping cop. (While it might not matter to anyone reading this, I’m still angry as hell with those cops. There is simply no valid excuse for their behavior.)

We are all seeing the after effects of these errant cops, but, then, loonies need very little reason to act otherwise – likely because they’re being paid good money by some big benefactors to cause all the beatings, riots, killings, lootings our televisions entertain us with each night, those ‘big money’ people who  want a different USA.

Some of our citizens do not want our old used-up Democracy, Freedom and Liberty, The Rule of Law, Bill of Rights, et al… all beautifully framed by some of the greatest patriots this country has known, men and women whose spilled blood is mixed with the ink on the documents. ‘They want to venture into the Socialist-way, a la Venezuela, Cuba, negating the price paid by millions of America’s youth that never had a chance at their American Dreams… For most Americans there is disbelief that some of our elected ‘public servants’ have opened wide our democracy doors to ‘big money interests’ who see better and faster ways to rip our country apart.

There are times when the world has a surreal feel to it…like, “Where did my country go? Why are we giving way to the anarchists, the looters, the killers, the haters?

It is an election year, and election years bring out the ‘looney left’ haters of President Donald J. Trump. Sure, like many Movers and Shakers, people who can get things done, our President can say too much at times, open mouth and insert foot, but he has also done more for our country than any other president in our history. A businessman, he came at a time when a prior two-term president changed the face of our democracy and bowed and curtsied to every leader in the world. Yes, I’ll take your poll: Barack Obama was the worst president in our history.

For this old hillbilly cast-off, the world is made up of people with different levels of intelligence and common sense. I am not the so-called ‘brightest light in the room’, nor am I the dimmest. There is so much I do not know and wished I knew, and, with the years adding up it will not get a lot better for me.

What I do know is this: the world is made up of ‘Governments’ – most of which are not democracies, but some form of ‘Authoritarian President’ (a la Venezuela-Socialism), Kings Queens, Despots, Ministers, Absolute Ruler (a la N. Korea).

What I do know is that nations of the world have their low IQs, high IQs, Rich, Poor.

What I do know is that nations of the world have their criminals and law-abiding citizens.

Diversity is everywhere. How do the nations of the world stop crime, get rid of poverty, handle all the diversity?

When I was in the military I heard of a ‘Smart Pill’ to make the Low-IQs smarter, pills to control raging sexual desires, pills to control all kinds of crime and diseases.

Perhaps to the extent these ‘pills’ and other scientific and technological advances can prove to establish some major controls, and/or have made a difference in some of our areas where crime emanates and destroys, there is so much we cannot know.

We also know there are those who enjoy their lives as they are – the doctors along with the criminals and evil-doers, so it most likely will become that our categorical areas of crime, evil doers, and/or quality leadership of nations will be on the fringe of our understanding.

At this moment in our American History, we face a crucial election in 90+ days. My hope is that we in America can remember the tens of millions of lives given for the causes of freedom, liberty, and belief systems which are given to us by a Higher Power! The price for what we are and can be is and was Steep.

We will soon beat the Covid-19 Evil, and, hopefully fill our nation with happy dwellers of peace and prosperity…and I am proud to say I shall be voting once again for Donald J. Trump in November.

BR Chitwood – August 1, 2020

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The Devil’s Time

-Photo Image by: Pedro Lastra – Unsplash.com-

©The Devil’s Time

-A Poem By BR Chitwood-

***

No machine, no vaccination,

Can launch us back in time.

No Hypnotist can erase your mind

Of that clinging primeval slime.

You are here of your own craving,

Desires of your nights and days

Without doubt densely depraving.

Though Biological Sciences seek

Cures and advances in ageing,

Your chances appear most weak.

Today, so much of our world wants

Rebellion, violence, and Anarchy.

Therein the Devil lives and taunts.

***

A Poem by: BR Chitwood – 7-28-20

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Murphy – The Baby Sitter

©Murphy – The Baby Sitter

Fiction

By BR Chitwood

“Your first night, Murphy, want a quick ‘Q and A’? asked Brian Headley.”

“Really, Brian, that’s a bit insulting, don’t you think?”

“That was not in my mind when I asked, Murphy. Cheri and I are just making sure we’ve covered all the bases. Don’t get feisty with me.”

“Yeah, Murphy, added Rob Drawly, father of Brittany, same with Piper nd me.”

I am ‘all the bases’, and I’ve covered everything with all of you…several times. Brian, Cheri, and, Rob, you and Piper, go to your yearly weekend ritual in New York. The children will be fine. I know all there is to know about their likes, dislikes, the food they love and hate, their favorite games…and they already love me. I love them, each and every one – Jordon (the kid who would be King), Camille and Bonnie (who will be famous movie stars and dancers). Now, please, get out of here and leave me with my ‘Charges’!” Murphy did not smile but his voice was frisky and playful.

After a few chuckles and raised eyebrows, the parents looked quickly upon their sleeping children and were gone.

***

After some listed duties, Murphy settled in the den next to the children’s bedrooms, turned on the television – near-muted because his ear-pieces had dual listening capabilities: the children could not hear the television speakers but TV volume defaulted with any crying or needs of the children. Murphy was able to hear their gentle in-and-out breathing with the ‘state of the art’ ear devices.

The TV and den light went off at the prescribed setting time, and all was quiet in the 3000 square-foot house. As the den light brought darkness and stillness to the entire house, Murphy went silent as well…his keen hearing still able to pick-up the sounds of the children.

***

At 3:10 AM, Murphy heard a distant sound, like broken glass falling to the hardwood floor in the entry hall. The children were still asleep…only the ears of Murphy could isolate the sounds.

Murphy immediately deployed an unseen varnish-like spray-substance on the entry walls and the hardwood floor a few steps from the front door. He heard the door opening, heard the shuffling of feet for only a few seconds. After some minutes passed, Murphy heard two sets of grumbling voices.

Murphy dialed a pre-set police telephone number, gave them a required validation code for house equipped as was this one for Brian and Cheri Headley…a similar pre-set requirement was also in place for Rob and Piper.

***

Within a flash of some moments, the police arrived at the Headley residence and found two terribly distraught would-be robbers rooted to the hardwood floor…two sets of shoes stuck to and occupied a space…two sets of socks stuck to and occupied another space…and blood was coming from bare feet in another space.

Murphy magically made the sticky liquid disappear from the hardwood floor, restored within seconds its original finish, and miraculously replaced the glass at the entry…

Murphy watched the police take the unlucky robbers away.

At no time before, during, and after this incident did the children awaken.

The police shook their heads and waved at the strange-looking robot called Murphy.

Flash Fiction by: BR Chitwood – 7-27-2020

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Short Journey of Steven Bardo

-Image art by: Nick Herasimenko – Unsplash. com-

©Short Journey of Steven Bardo

By BR Chitwood

Steven Bardo stumbles down a sidewalk in Phoenix, Arizona, the front pockets to his soiled trousers turned inside-out, and he bounces into a brick wall of a mercantile building and falls to the sidewalk. Bardo rests his back against the old brick wall, takes a couple of deep breaths of smoggy air, tightly closes his eyes a few times. People walk by the man, showing no care or interest.

The back of Steven Bardo’s head rests uncomfortably against the aged wall as he gazes across the road to another commercial building, his stare locking on nothing of which his eyes are interested, just at a place in his mind where a vacuum of despair fills the historic messiness he has made of this life he owns.

Steve Bardo was not drunk. He had barely enough for two beers and one jigger chaser of liquor at the bar he just left. The bartender refused to give him credit for more drinks and muttered in menacing words for him to leave the bar. The unsteady figure now leaned back and against the building’s wall, staring straight ahead across the street to a locked-in stain spot on the white brick facing, him mind swirling with thoughts of his yesterdays, the work mistakes, the gambling, the ‘extra-women’, all the side-tracks that crushed his marriage.

Tears came with a sad wry smile, and he dropped his head, turned it slightly to his right, and saw stuck in the crevice of the sidewalk what looked like a folded ‘Circle K’ lotto ticket. It was a ticket someone must have thrown there, and he absent-mindedly picked it up and put it in his shirt pocket…

For a moment, his sad smile brought him up to date with this moment, sprawled on a sidewalk with a lotto ticket in his pocket…he slowly shook his head and murmured to himself: ‘Stranger things have happened. Dumb luck was all over the place. Why did I come up this street when I left the bar? That empty shack by the railroad track is my only refuge’.

‘I’m broke, stumbling around like a drunk sailor…my life is the ‘pits’ – hell, the movie people make these tear-jerkers all the time and make millions upon millions of dollars on the well-off crowds who flock to the theaters to feel sad for the poor bastards portrayed on the silver screen’…

Steve Bardo sat on the sidewalk for many moments until he felt somehow bare and vulnerable. He struggled to his feet and slowly began shuffling back down the street toward that abandoned shack by a railroad track that now served as his home.

He passed the ‘Circle K’ on the corner where he turned toward the RR shack, walked a few feet, stopped, and had a sudden urge. ‘Why not check the number on the lotto ticket? The ‘Circle K’ is only a few feet away’.

Inside the ‘Circle K’ he approached the employee behind the counter, an older woman, Marge by the pinned label attached to her blouse,  already showing signs of doubt and worry about the man approaching. Still, she thought, ‘he looks harmless, sad and lonely, and he’s pulling a lotto ticket from his shirt pocket…maybe, he gets lucky’.

 The counter lady smiled sweetly at the man, suddenly feeling sorry for him. “You have a winning ticket there?” She asked cheerily.

He tried to smile, gave his head a short nod and handed her the ticket. The pleasant lady brought a good feeling he wasn’t sure he could explain to anyone.

“Well, let’s keep our fingers crossed.” She smiled and went to a small alcove to run the numbers.

Steve Bardo leaned on a small counter at the alcove watching the nice woman’s face as she did her meticulous check of the numbers. Then, with glowing eyes, she repeated the second re-check of the lotto ticket…

The man watched her moves, and, with every cheerful mood she made, he became more excited…’My Good God! Maybe she’s finding me a new life’… He knew something good was happening.

Then, police officer Gig Weller walked into the ‘Circle K’. Officer Weller watched Two young casually dressed men filling their tote bags with many bottles of liquor, wine, and sundry treats. The taller of the two men saw the policeman, and, when their eyes met, all three knew, one way or the other, the party was over – and all the booze and ‘goodies’ stuffed in the ‘gear bags’ would not be used in frolic and fun…or, resale.

Officer Weller approached the two men. He judged them to be in their mid-twenties, and, at the moment, they were nervously dithering as to what their exit plans should be.

Within ten feet of the young men, the officer saw the signs that spoke of illegal activities.

“You fellows want to show me what’s in your ‘sports bags’?” The officer rested his right hand on his holstered weapon.

“Just some party stuff, officer.”

“Lots of booze coming off the shelves and into that travel bag…you planning to pay for that ‘party stuff’?”

The two men were not so evident of their criminal intent as some he had encountered, but he could observe that nuance he had come to trust over the years…these fellows were committing a robbery – he knew it but would practice decent discourse until they made their move.

The two medium-built men looked quickly at each other, and the shorter one answered: “Oh, sure, Officer, just making it easier on ourselves with the bags, and we didn’t notice any collection carts when we came in.”

The Officer gave a slight smile and pointed toward the entry/exit doors: “You mean those stacked at the entrance? You two bring your bags to the counter, and we will get an accounting.” The Officer’s right hand never left his weapon.

Reluctantly, the two men shuffled toward the counter, closely watching the Officer’s moves. Another male employee had returned to the counter and watched the approach of the two men and the Police Officer some three feet to the side. The counter clerk knew instinctively that trouble was walking toward him, his slow labored swallow giving him away.

“Okay,” the Officer said, “pay the clerk, and we’ll see if we’re done with all this.”

The two men looked at each other, the taller man spoke: “Go ahead Ellis, pay the man…”

The man called Ellis looked quickly at his partner with widened eyes: “Whoa, Jack, I thought you were paying with your credit card…”

“No, it was the other way around, Ellis. I don’t have my credit card or any money. You were to pay.”

“Bull-croppy! You were to pay! Look in the bag…maybe you put your credit card in there.”

Jack grabbed the bag, unzipped the middle opening…

His voice no longer carrying any cordial tone, the Officer Weller spoke in a loud demanding voice as he pulled his gun from its holster: “Drop the bag and raise your arms, you are both under arrest…”

The man called Jack pulled a revolver from the bag and jumped sideways toward a counter end, and pulled the trigger several times.

A woman’s scream was heard from the back at the alcove.

The Officer managed to get off several shots, one shot immediately mortally wounding the man called Jack, and, unfortunately, one bullet from the now dead man crazed the shoulder of Officer Gig Weller, fortunately, not disabling him. The man called Ellis stood shaking, arms raised high and stiff.

Officer Gig Weller cuffed the man called Ellis, made his call to the precinct, described the altercation and aftermath…

The ambulance arrived, put some ointment on Officer Weller’s shoulder and a patch. Ellis was taken to lock-up.

The police ambulance not only carried Jack to the morgue but Steven Bardo, the man who had lost his way in life…until the final moment of his living. He was killed by a stray bullet from the gun fired by Jack.

Officer Gig Weller talked to a tearful Marge as she emerged from the ‘Circle K’ alcove to report the death of Steven Bardo. When Weller saw her tears, he asked, “Was Mr. Bardo a personal friend of yours?”

“No, but in my heart, I know he was a good man who had some very bad luck in life, sad from all the weight he was carrying, the mistakes, loss of family, the ‘boogey-man’ always there inside of him…” Fresh tears began to trickle.

“Why was he in your ‘Circle K’? Sounds like you had an emotional encounter with him.”

“Steven Bardo found a ‘lotto ticket’ on a sidewalk, and, on his way to his humble shack he called home, he passed our store, came in to see if the numbers might have been winning number – a real ‘long shot’ of course…

“Old tear-jerker me, I feel immediately sad for the man and wanted so much for that lotto ticket to give him a new lease on life, and my verification came at the very moment of his death from that stray bullet…

“I got to see him light up with a smile when I told him he was a winner? NOT, the jackpot amount, but enough to turn his life around…his last number was ‘13’, but he knew, KNEW, that he was a winner – finally, a winner. Thank God he was able to go with that knowledge…”

A trio of tears dropped to the ‘Circle K’ floor.

The End

©Short Journey of Steven Bardo

By BR Chitwood – July 22, 2020

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Face It

21424918

-Platonic Academy in Athens, Greece Prior to 86 BC-

Face It!

By BR Chitwood

Have you figured it out?

You know – Corona Virus, earth orbiting, people doing crazy things, hate, love, murder, riots, politics, reading, sleeping, waking, writing, Sun up, Sun down?

Of course, you have…

Those Athenian primo Philosophers like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, they had it figured pretty well: don’t tell people anything! Just engage them in dialogue until someone comes up with a ‘philosophical gem’ that sounds universal and valid…and, it didn’t hurt that ‘SP&A’ walked around in funny long-loose clothes and sandals – maybe, even barefooted – definitely too lazy to shave, and spoke with erudite voices that guaranteed they had some scintillating and earth-shaking knowledge likely already known but wanted their listeners to author the answers.

Having read about these ‘Genius Three’ in college and even now occasionally – just, not too long because they give me a ‘hillbilly headache’, trying to understand the ‘Socratic Method’, ‘Plato’s Republic’, and ‘Aristotelian Logic’. There is one thing for sure, these hard-thinking men devoted their lives to the pursuit of knowledge, and Socrates committed suicide by drinking some hemlock potion…it was either that or ‘exile’, and he took his honorable way. The Athens legal authorities claimed Socrates had corrupted the Grecian youth. Socrates’ best student was there with him at death – another young Athenian scholar and friend, Plato. 

Plato would go on to ‘dialogue’ a lot with Aristotle and other giant scholars of that ‘Classic Era’. Plato would also establish The Academy’ in Athens c. 387 BC. The Academy persisted throughout the Hellenistic period as a skeptical school, until coming to an end after the death of Philo of Larissa in 83 BC. The Platonic Academy was destroyed by the Roman dictator Sulla in 86 BC.

Now, sure, you can find all of this on your own, but I had to show off just a bit…and I’m not quite finished yet…

In refreshing my mind a bit on these three great Philosophers who have adorned college textbooks for centuries now, I should not have been surprised – but, I was – to find out that these Greek giants, particularly, Socrates, thought  Democracies were not the best governing blueprint, particularly, if the wrong people were working at the power desks. Plato, perhaps more than Socrates, was not a ‘democracy’ advocate. Each believed that too many variables existed in a Democracy – favors, paybacks, ‘big money’, ignorance leading to ‘Mob Rule’. It is also true that within any system of governance, there is potential for some semblance of disaster.

After so few paragraphs, my brain power is used up, and I will end by saying a definite NO to Democratic Socialism, NO to ‘Open borders’,  NO to de-funding our ‘Law and Order’ people, NO to higher taxes, NO to the SWAMP GROUPS that rob us blind, YES to a strong Military, YES to Charter Schools and Educational Reforms with too many promising programs thrown aside, YES to a proven leader for President who has had some remarkable achievements during his first four years in the oval office, and YES to Innovative solutions to state and local government.

Okay, like it, do not like it, ignore it, but the man who wrote this post is  taking a nap…writing, taking naps, that’s what old guys do!!!

BR Chitwood – July 16, 2020

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“The Galaxy Higher Order”

“The Galaxy Higher Order”

by BR Chitwood

(Messenger Chosen and Indoctrinated by TGHO OuigiBoard.)

***

Overview and Statement of Purpose:

 Centuries, Millenia have passed since The Supreme Deity of TGHO unilaterally, with a compelling and compassionate inner guidance brought forth the most favored thinkers to embrace with Him/Her a benign concept that would create union between females and males to populate countries, who, in turn, would create through a procreation process other females and males, all to grow and multiply with different mind-sets and talents for further creations…it would be an interesting experiment, with certain expectation levels of achievement.

It was not so much idle moments that brought about this epic adventure. The Deity, his followers, had the idea of an exclusive Galaxy that would spread through the great Spatial Heavens. The Deity thought of the project more in divine terms and all their efforts were kept in perspective of this great and noble experiment.

So, it came to pass…

Great countries were built, their cities rich not only in their beauty, their architecture, but the people wise and productive in their giving. There were periods of unique, beautiful art, and wise thinkers who were able to predict and prepare for colossal events.

Then, with growing aggravation came the vermin, the insects and diseases that destroyed the crops.

People died from inexplicable causes.

People became angry, fought among themselves.

Then came wars between countries, with weaponry that grew in size and mass destructive ability.

Where went benignity? Where went peace and good will? Some would blame human machines, people who focused on power and control.

***

Perhaps the paths taken to get to the twenty-first century, had different routes. Perhaps the symbolism, the ‘galactic allusion’ does not fit so well, but we are here in the year of our Lord, 2020, our knowledge doubling at such speeds to make the head dizzy, a Covid-19 Pandemic, Political forces seemingly asleep at the wheel of government, riots in the streets of our cities, murders, rioting, looting…what madness has infected the souls of our nations. Our monuments and statues from History, who we were, who we are, how we fought and won our freedom and liberty… What is the Demon force at work? Who are the Demons? Who are the ‘power brokers’ ripping apart the USA? Are our educational systems, for whatever their reasons, brainwashing our kids? Taking from them the ‘guts’ of our Republic: how we got here? The good, the bad that got us here?

Why are we allowing idiots to walk our sacred halls of Congress…yes, I know, they were voted into office…how? why?

We are allowing ‘mindless hoodlums’ to kill our children and neighbors, to kill our police, to riot, to loot…likely paid to do so by Anarchist Power Brokers

‘Some Big cities wish no longer to fund the Police’?

That’s ‘Crazy’, simply, NUTS!

‘Black Lives Matter’? More Craziness…begging stupid questions.

‘All Lives Matter’! Black, brown, red, white, yellow… We all matter… Pain and Suffering are not limited to one group of people or one location. Some of us are products of Appalachian poverty, and we worked to break away from that unpleasantness. We all did not crawl inside our minds and build envy and hate for those who had more than we. So many good people with their own plates bare of food helped others. People care but cannot always be there to help ease the pain. Hate is invidious, divisive, and a terrible place to be… Yes, these are just words that can’t pay the rent or buy the food…show me a man, woman, or child who can be economically burdened but can still smile and help another in need, and I’m meeting a most special person. Yes, these are just words, but I can say, I’ve been there, and I will never envy or hate anyone who has more than I do.

There is a lot of sadness in the world, and we should help as many as we can who try each day to help lessen their load.

And, of course, if you do hate the USA, want to take away the freedom and liberty that millions have died to preserve for us, then, get on a boat to Venezuela and/or another Totalitarian country.

This is AMERICA, those of you who brazenly shout and shove your way to looting, killing our police, and defying our symbols of past glories and sacrifices. There are a lot of us who do not have so much, but we did get past abject poverty by working our way out. We served our country through some wars. For those who need food and shelter this country does have places of refuge, counseling, and job assistance. Seek help from reliable sources, and, PLEASE, avoid the ‘mob mentality’ that feeds anger and hate.

Yes, we have some acute problems at the moment, and it is an ‘election year’.

One candidate has been in several positions in our government. If he has been successful in those forty-plus years, I must have pulled a ‘Rip Van Winkle’, unless becoming very wealthy and making a son very wealthy are some sort of hallmarks.

The other candidate may not have the decorum some would wish in a Commander-in-Chief, but he knows how to run a business, and, after all, it seems we need a man who knows thoroughly those principles of business and growth of the economy. The Pandemic will hopefully run its course, and we will get back to strong markets and a confident America.

Okay, I have more or less satisfied my anger, but I love this country, and we have to get our schools (Charter, or, otherwise) re-opened and up to speed.

BR Chitwood – July 14, 2020

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Butterfly Hearts

©Butterfly Hearts

  • – AKA The Souls of Romantics

By BR Chitwood

*

Close the gates to reason,

Defy the constancy of doubts

You know of only one season.

Tis the season that fades not away,

But lingers like butterflies in flight

Flower to flower on a summer’s day.

Call it a Butterfly Heart, this joyous toy,

That ticks wildly at likely signs of love,

For the soul that captures ultimate joy.

If World’s woes try for intervention,

And cause a temporal rush of rain,

Butterfly Hearts pay it no attention.

©Butterfly Hearts

  • AKA The Souls of Romantics –

By BR Chitwood

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Can We Talk?

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!

Can We Talk?

By BR Chitwood

“Can we talk? Of course, we can talk. You asked. I answered, and that was five minutes ago. So, what’s on your mind, BR? You knock on the door, nod a greeting, and want to talk. We’re sipping beers, and you have not said two words. Your brow’s all wrinkled. You’re fidgety and nervous as I’ve never seen you. What’s eating you up, buddy?”

“Sorry, Luke, I’m not handling too well all that’s happening in our orbiting craft these days. It may all be above my ‘savvy classification’ and my ‘retirement pay grade’, but what is happening in this only world we know? The ‘World Pandemic’? ‘Corona Virus’? Masks? Family Separation and Isolation? Riots in our cities? Looting? Deaths? Restaurants and Bars closed? Sports cancelled? Political chaos and anarchical acts? Geez, I have no idea what Armageddon looks like, but, if this is it, I’m scared.”

  “You have a lot of company, BR. The anxiety levels of people are visceral, me, included. I can’t remember a period in our history when such anger, riots, killings, total disregard by so many of our laws and fundamental law enforcement is no longer viable…

“So, my friend, we have many people feeling the same emotions, the same doubts, about solutions and a return to some semblance of normalcy… I’m hearing ‘doubts’ seeping into conversations – doubts about Covid-19 and possible episodes with some extreme edging, like…

Is there more to this Pandemic than what we’re being told by our leaders?

“Are there ‘Hate Groups’ backed with lots of money to stir National unrest to the point of making Socialism a reality? Think about it, groups working toward defunding our police departments, hoping to make it a more ‘peoples police force’ to serve their socialistic desires.

“We are all feeling our own pressing doubts about where we’re going with these actions we are witnessing. We can, I believe, no longer doubt that there are ‘interests’ being served by these current actions than by what our founding fathers had in mind.”

“God, Lucas, are you trying to cheer me up?”

 Short snicker.

“I’m kidding, your thoughts are my thoughts as well… I, too, feel there is more to the Pandemic than what we are being told…is it worse than we think? Is it better than we are led to believe?

“Are there people actively at work trying to erase our history? We already know that the Universities are hell-bent on shaping the minds of our youth.

“It is sad to think that so many people wish to erase and void the history of our Democracy, the wars fought, the lives lost, in building this greatest of all nations – spending huge amounts of money to buy malcontents and corrupters of freedom, defacing, tearing down our heroes and monuments. It is not only sad. It is an egregious affront to our pioneers, our trail-blazers, our historic greatness, all the lives lost in preserving our union.”

“Well said, BR. Is our little ‘beer and pep session’ helping?”

“Well, Lucas, you got me talking, mostly repeating everything you said…and, you know, I do feel better after our short chat here…guess that’s why you make the big bucks. {Chuckle}. The good people of this country, I have to believe, are not going to ‘cave in’ to the negative elements of Globalists, Socialists, and Rabble-rousers. This great nation could not have come this far without the great will of our people…and, guess what? The ancestors are ‘locked and loaded’!”

BR Chitwood – July 4, 2020

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HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!

Those Romantic Moments

By BR Chitwood

To be sure, there are rare, unique, and special romantic moments in our lives. Some, we will pledge to posterity with all the poetic and prose talent we have…sure, it might come out as gilded prose, but the words will still carry some heart messages that convey what the possessed lover intended.

Being a ‘charter member’ of The Romantic Anonymous Club of Misfits and Sly Scoundrels, I am drawn to the soft violin strings, the meticulous wafting notes of a harp – which, at times, has drawn me to the lovely Harpist – and the gentle soul-seeking keys of a piano. Ask any active member of the TRACMSS, and they will validate my wordsif they do not, they will be heavily fined.

Some readers might question the value, the worth of such a blog post… C’mon, man, who wants to read about this kind of stuff? Man and woman, meet – BOOM – they get it on. End of story.

I will not pigeon-hole my readers. If they are truly too offended by my words here, it will actually please many of our TRACMSS club members…you know, without too many pickers, there are more luscious fruit on the trees.

At this point, allow me to explain the presumptive reason for this particular post…

On July 4, 2020 we celebrate our great country’s ‘Declaration of Independence’. This year, with all that has come upon us – the ‘Covid-19’ Pandemic’, the many deaths, the Isolation, the Masks, the trepidation of our people about future riots and the unrest of tens of millions of people – it somehow seemed appropriate to write about Love and Romance.

It will take a hellava lot from the bad folks who are creating all of this death and destruction to defeat the good people of our country. The good people of this country want freedom and liberty to stay its course, law and order to prevail, and government malfeasance to disappear – to STOP stealing our money.

So, on the fourth of July, My wife and I are going to put on some Mantovani, some harp music, some violin music, and some soft floating piano notes, and celebrate our Independence Day – and Evening – and, we won’t be forgetting candlelight and wine… By the by, that TRACMSS  CLUB is looking for members… We love belonging but it’s just the two of us.

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!

By BR Chitwood – July 3, 2020

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World of Wannabe

World of Wannabe

By BR Chitwood

The world of Wannabe is available only to the hermits of the world, those precious few among us who come to a place in their minds that bid them escape the habitual and mundane nuances of life, a place where patterns of living become such narrow spaces to subsist and cater to those higher, more spiritual longings of the soul.

Wannabe is a place of transition, a place of substantial caring far away from the giants of commerce and business, a place where loneliness becomes a blessing, not a curse, where a day begins with a soft salute to the Maker of us all, then tending to the humble daily needs of faltering lives of beasts and fowls, building a sanctuary for the forgotten simple inhalers of fresh air, a blessed place where living in the only skin you have need not worry about the predators of the world.

 Such a special place is Wannabe for those who have no earthly longings save for the harmony of living among a cayote’s wail to the midnight moon, a bear’s gentle grunt in passing on a trail, a large cougar’s poetic stance on a boulder in silhouette with the full moon, a bearded man sharing his meager meal with a wildcat or snake.

Wannabe is a place for the hardy and the matter of fact, with no dreams left to interrupt his or her simple life, a place one might call a refuge while a hermit calls it home.

Most visitors will not stay long in Wannabe for they see Isolation, loneliness, and the absence of imagination and desire to create, while the hermit will never wish to leave because he/she could not dream beyond what they find here.

There are no obituaries for the Hermits of our world…they are the few who faded from the tall buildings and neon lights to find their own peace on earth!

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By BR Chitwood – June 30, 2020

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