WHAT IS THERE TO BE THANKFUL FOR?

Please don't waste this chance...

WHAT IS THERE TO BE THANKFUL FOR?

I am thankful for the Trumpennium.

A thousand years of Truth, Justice, and the American Way.

I hope.

But we are not out of the gulag yet. No. We still face the apparently lunatic wrath of the Prog Horde. Their hitherto-concealed insanity explains their fascination with the walking dead, zombies, vampires, werewolves, pornography, filthy lyrics, and the other stagnant sludge of diseased minds. Now I get it.

I used to think they were an honest half of the human gene pool. I used to think we were supposed to think and reason together and arrive at mutually helpful, averaged-out solutions.

I don’t think that anymore. As I explained in my prescient novella, “Keepin’ Alive,” they are farm animals. They are willing, useful idiots produced by cities, kings, queens, politicians, cold science and propaganda, and by the Enforcers.

They are uninformed, misinformed, genetically bred cheerleaders and Judas goats.

They are farm animals bred to blindly, mindlessly support and promote the Ruler—who or whatever that might be at any given time in history. It never matters who or what. Their blinded, genetically bred-in, self-destructive, murderous allegiance takes whatever form is required. And their battle cry is always, “I was just following orders.”


And there is always a terrible price to pay. Through 10,000,000 years of recorded human history, none have escaped the awful wrath of God, or of the gods—take your pick. It’s all written down for you to read. Try to learn from it, won’t you?

Okay, that’s off my chest. I’ve been trying to come out of my shell and really try to express myself. I’ll work on that.

I am thankful for a lot of things in my very, very long life, which I have used to observe, seek out, correct, and try to do the right thing.

I am thankful we who tried to help, had the courage to stick our necks out and risk our freedoms, and maybe even our lives, to help in some small way elect Donald J. Trump, next President of the United States of America.

If any harm should indeed befall Donald, as ye seem to call for daily, ye false gods, false prophets, and lying millionaire propagandists—then, woe unto thee. Woe unto thee. Woe and woe and woe unto thee…

Anyways…

I am thankful for the memories and bliss of a golden American heritage. I am thankful for having lived through the unmatched golden Age of America’s confident, brilliant, can-do spirit of the 1940s and 1950s. We had won the war against what seemed ultimate Evil—the Nazis, Japanese Imperialists, Italian Fascists, and other of their ravening horde. Little did we realize they would return wearing new skins and walk among us, the enemy renewed, “rested, and tanned.” The enemy inside the gates.


Back then we knew who we were. We knew which of us were male or female. We could tell at a glance. And we knew where to pee, for godssakes.

We were allowed to celebrate our religions and holidays in peace, without fear of damnation by Government dogs, or “social media.” Our music and entertainment were clean and wholesome. Our films were moral and offered classically mythic lessons of greatness and how to be. Our stars and celebrities were on the bus with us for a free America, and the American Way.

News was news—not the fake propaganda spewed today by Obama, Jake, Rachel, Chuck, Wolf, Shep, and all the rest of the lying multi-millionaires.

We knew who we were, and who we could be—because we were free. We had dreams and aspirations. We knew life and its bounteous rewards would grow without end if only we worked at it hard enough. And We were not afraid to express an opinion. We had security in our homes, communications, and property.

We lived in America—Home of the Brave. From Sea to Shining Sea—it was ours, we loved it, and it loved us back. America showered us daily with golden beams of generosity, compassion, hope, accomplishment, and equality.

And it protected us from all enemies, anywhere—with its lethal talons and arrows of awful lightning. It stored up the Grapes of Wrath. The entire world feared our terrible, swift sword.


We were the greatest force that ever existed on Earth.

And yet; we never used it completely. We never sought to use it. In our terrible, almighty strength, we were terribly tolerant and peaceful. We never fully used our power.

Maybe we should have…

I am thankful for the bliss and wondrous ritual that were our oldtime Thanksgiving, Christmas, Veterans’ Day, Fourth of July, and all the rest, before they were deconstructed, ignored, vilified, and monitized beyond even plain greed.

I am thankful for Howdy Doody, Captain Midnight, Space Patrol, Captain Video, Lambchop, Kukla Fran and Ollie, Winky Dink, Paul Winchell, Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Jerry Colonna, Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, Harry James, swing, jitterbug, Cab Calloway, the Nicholas Brothers, The Platters, Perry Como, Andy Williams, Sally Star, Willie the Worm, Bertie the Bunyip, my kickbutt Junior High Principal, Charles F. Burke, my homeroom teacher Mrs. Canales—and countless others, who never took their clothes off in front of me, swore, or used drugs.

I am thankful for the one-third of my life spent being formed in the bosom of the greatest force for good and humanity Earth has ever known: America The Beautiful.

And now?

Now I will continue working to try and resurrect and reassure and reveal that very way of a past golden age—to children yet too young to have actually realized any of Obama’s Democrat, Prog, false Matrix of lies and unreality. And I want to help enable that same wondrous revelation to those not yet even born.

Because it’s the Trumpennium.

Don’t take it for granted. Don’t just sit back. Say something. Do something. Nurture it, promulgate it. Tell your kids beautiful stories about it—of life, liberty, and joy, of mythic truth, wonder, justice, compassion, and of human ways to Be. Tales of Humanity.

Please don’t waste this chance…


Jeffrey A. Friedberg

Pro Deo et Constitutione – 
Libertas aut Mors Semper Vigilans Fortis 
Paratus et Fidelis 
Joseph F Barber

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