The Light of a Trillion Stars

We all will give our last full measure. Those of us not completely anaesthetized, or asleep at the switch.

On the morning of Wednesday, November 9? We will know what remains. Or … what en toto has been destroyed (assuming that an election even takes place?).

And those still of a right mind WILL give as good as they get. We will succeed.

Or … we will go down swinging. And in thus, we will take a few of those Frothing Maggots, That Have Flown Out of Satan's Anus, with us.

That isn't a threat of vyo lence. Noop. It isn't anything complex, just simple reality. Something the Deranged Lunatic Left has no connection to.

Our last stand. This Nation's last chance. The end, terminus. Or a new beginning. Rebirth. Scary sh*t.

We don't do hokey. We don't rah rah cheerlead. That isn't my job. I look to the sky, and ask if I'm doing right by him, whose name I do not speak. That is who I answer to. And no one else.

When it is my time. When I breathe my last breath. I will have no regrets, about my time on earth. Did I do enough. Because I already know the answer.

Are you ready?

They are. And have no compunction in destroying the Greatest Gift Ever Known, whatsoever.

There are no uniforms, no badges or ribbons. Like stankho Rapinoe, getting a medal, the Nation's highest honor. For squatting on the Flag, and pinching a loaf (is there any question that King Pigsh*t, the Amazing Ozama … is running the show?).

What you will receive however. Is the knowledge that you and your's will forevermore bathe in the light of a trillion stars.

**************

Monday, July 11, One p.m.

Diplomacy

A way of saying the nastiest thing ... in the nicest way.

It is loooong past time to cut off the head of the snake.

M A K E

IT 

H A P P E N