Mars Man at Mars City TV.
On Mars, all lives matter. Watching Mother Earth from Mars City TV, we see disturbing, disparaging, and worrisome scenes. I noticed a substantial uptick in readers of my blog “Black Lives Matter White Lives Don’t” published five years ago on July 18. 2015:
That blog concerned the insidious murder of Kathryn Steinle in California, a beautiful young caucasian girl shot down by a deranged illegal immigrant who had jumped the border five times before and managed to get back, due to the lax Obama immigration and sanctuary city rules. The idiot was not even charged with murder because the bullet had “ricocheted.” There you go, your leftist rule of “public safety” at work.
Five years later, I am saddened to see America tumbling down further to the reign of neanderthalers. More riots, looting, burning buildings and shops, and wild protesting, overpowering the justified protests about the killing by a policeman, in plain view, of a black man in custody on the street by kneeling on his neck till he died of asphyxiation. Just creeping out of the stronghold of COVED-19, America got thrown into a horrid scene of racial hatred by the stupid act of one white policeman. It was what your cliché calls it: a double whammy.
I had sent my wife Kathryn and our two sons to a Caribbean island with their private teachers to escape the misery of COVED-19. Now I told them to stay put and not to come back to Nebraska, even though that is one of the more sensible states in America, until the country is brought back to its senses. But by whom? I had hoped President Trump would take drastic measures to reign in the increasingly terrifying drive of the growing leftist mobs, but democrat governors don’t have the spine, and at the Federal level a President can only do so much to protect public safety with everybody left yelling and screaming at him. Even artificial mob states were created in Seatle, and the police chased out of what they call euphemistically “autonomous zones.” Where are the Republican leaders in the Senate and the House, to put a stop to this? Are they afraid they won’t be re-elected and lose their coveted lifestyle? Where are the heroes? Is your senator Scott from South Carolina the only one?
David Dorn – Fox News.com
Rioters killed David Dorn, a retired black police officer, while he was trying to protect a pawn shop in St. Louis. Where were the protesters protesting against this murder? Nowhere. David Dorn was “not black enough” because he probably voted Republican (one of your backward Biden mantras). Many of your policemen and women protecting property and citizens were seriously injured by the mobs. Don’t all lives matter? Is your left interested at all in maintaining public safety?
Clearly, history is full of glaring examples of great powers disappearing due to weakening leadership, internal division, greed, mob rule, and declining values: Athens, the Roman Empire, the French Revolution, the Napoleonic Empire, The British Empire, and soon, the United States of America, once the leader of inventions, the industrial power, launching the technical, internet and digital revolutions, and then: falling in disarray by the decay of values, racial segregation, and social distress smothering it all.
Historians call it the transient character of the human condition and political order. “Sooner or later, all things come to an end…All states and nations, however great, bloom for a season and are replaced.” (Vanished Kingdoms by Norman Davies – 2012, Pinguin Books). Looking at the American scene, it affirms the truism. Protests and riots completely overshadowed its newest advance in space, launching its new manned spacecraft to the international space station and back.
The strange phenomenon of applying double standards in the judgment of facts is another sign of declining values: mob rule is fine, as long as it supports leftist ideals purported by your broad leftist media and your inside-rotting democrat party. The mob does not have to use anti-COVED-19 masks, but a Republican rally must. Historians may say that the transient nature of the human condition in the U.S. follows from its changing demographics due to immigration, and the invasion of leftist teachers at high schools, colleges and universities, some financed by Chinese sources, poisoning the young with their values of government dependency, socialist mantras on free goods, and anti-religious speech.
It depends on how America reassesses itself in the November elections. If the left wins, it’s the end of the U.S. as we knew it. But even if President Trump is re-elected and the Republican Party maintains the Senate, it is only a matter of time until the decline of your nation reaches full speed. “Keep America Great” and “Law and Order” sound pretty hollow at this moment. The current turmoil has dragged down much of America’s greatness in the eyes of the world. At some stage, the so-called Democratic Party will gain full majority and then – rest assured – the transient process to Neanderthal will swallow America. If enough of you don’t want that, rise up, get your acts together, and stop that from happening. If too many of you don’t give a damn:
Auntie Pillowski talks to the Friends at the virtual Hullahoo Bar. The Friends now communicate via Skype, drinking home-delivered beer, as Jason, the bartender has set up a carry-out and delivery service. The Friends asked Auntie Pillowski to come online to clarify pending corona questions and surprisingly, Auntie Pillowski accepted. The Friends arranged to talk by “tour de role,” talking by turn as agreed. As is custom, moderator Frank starts.
Frank: “Dear Auntie, this is Frank. We are so pleased that you take part in our drinks. We regret we can’t send you a beer online, but we know you have lots of your own brand within reach. One burning question: Why did you fly in a hurry from San Francisco to Washington to block the CARES bill?”
Auntie Pillowski: “The Senate bill was for the rich. The House has a better use for the people’s money. Democrats are for the poor unemployed worker, not for the wealthy CEOs.”
Frank: “But Auntie, the troubled small businesses and unemployed had to wait a long week for you to approve the Senate bill because you wanted to add money for the Kennedy Center. Do you ever go there?”
Auntie: “I work day and night for the American People. When I have time I put on a CD. We added critical improvements to the Bill.”
Melissa: “Auntie, this is Melissa, a true supporter of your party. You look so beautiful and your hair is so wonderful. How do you do that? My hairdresser is closed and my hair feels like a mop as you can see.”
Auntie: “Bernie Sanders proposes a Free Haircare Solution run by the Government and Joe Biden will follow suit. If you vote Democratic, you only have to push a button on your computer and a hairdresser paid for by the government will be at your doorstep in no time to make you beautiful again.”
Maria: “This is Maria, Auntie, an independent leaning Democrat. If re-elected, would you also vote for Bernie’s Free Gas Bill?”
Auntie: ” In The Green New Deal farmers must collect gas from all cows through tubes that will be fed into the distribution system for free, so soon you will have free government gas. Uncooperative farmers will pay a penalty tax under the Pillowski Gas Care Act that will supplement your gas bill.”
Cindy: “This is Cindy, Auntie. I am an independent leaning Republican. Why do the Democrats always obstruct sensible proposals by the Party in power?”
Auntie: “The power is with the American People and the Democratic Party has the popular vote. That means that our party has the power in the House, not the Republican Party, and surely not its dysfunctional president who in collusion with Russia stole Hillary’s votes. We know better.”
Cindy: “But Auntie, did the Mueller Report not say there was no collusion?”
Auntie: “The President was impeached, wasn’t he? Impeached forever.”
Fred: “This is Fred. I am a staunch Republican and MAGA man and take auntiedepressants after I listen to your speeches. Why are you always harping on Trump? So far you’ve lost all your cases against him and wasted millions of our painfully earned tax dollars for nops.”
Auntie: “Mr. Fred, don’t mess with me. Mute me next time and take another beer. I and my colleagues do the same when Trump does his rants. I represent half of America. That half believes the president is against gun control, against the Dreamers, against everything the Democrats stand for. Your half is un-American. We are for the Constitution, and President Trump is unconstitutional.”
Tom: “This is Tom, I’m like Fred. You and your Democrat Party are so adversarial. If you are so American, why can’t you guys simply agree to a rational extension of the Paycheck Protection Program, the PPP, as proposed? Why do you need to keep it hostage by adding stuff that won’t help the unemployed but only satisfies the exuberance of your auntiequated base?”
Auntie: “If the Republicans spend our tax dollars, we want to make sure that they’re spent for things we stand for. Spending is a bicameral process, though soon we will have the majority in both. You’ll see. That’ll make things easier.”
Ted: “This is Ted, I am a Libertarian. Not a Liberal. I’m a bread-and-butter fiscal conservative and appalled by the loss of wealth due to COVID-19 and the money needed to keep us afloat. The Democrats always add waste to the spending bill. Obama doubled the national debt. Our grandkids will pay the brunt. Would you do that with your own money?”
Auntie: “My husband takes care of our money, you’ll have to ask him. As a Democrat in the House, I spend the people’s money. If we run out, we just print more. My husband can’t do that. That’s why I like my job better.”
Caithlyn: “Auntie, this is Caithlyn. I’m the last one in the line. I am an independent too but a rational one. I vote for rational politicians and not irrational ones. In my view you’re irrational. You say you want proper oversight but all you do is undermining the administration with useless investigations. For rational people, this is an utter waste of time and money. Now again you want to start a probe into what the President knew and when on corona, while you and your consorts were impeaching him when it was starting, and calling him a racist and xenophobe when he shut off planes coming from China to stop COVID from getting worse.”
Auntie: “The American People should know what was done wrong and who is accountable. The president was fiddling – like Nero when Rome was burning – while people were dying.”
Frank: “Auntie, that’s so wrong and you know it. It sounds like another groundless witch hunt bound to fail. Are you still praying for the president during Easter?”
Auntie’s screen went blank.
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The Friends are gathered at the Hullahoo Bar for drinks, having beer or sodas while lifting their masks. They are all sitting at one side of the counter opposite to visiting Mr. Corona, a wormlike figure with a party hat on, who sits alone, looking defiant. He is speaking Chinese through a Made in China Google Translate device.
Frank: “Mr. Corona, why you are intent on making us all sick? You know we don’t have a vaccine yet to fight you.”
Corona: First off, I and my coworker viruses want to keep you, humans, on your toes. You people get too complacent living your luxury life. What better time to shake you up than in an election year?”
Maria: “But soon they’ll be closing the school where I’m teaching and then I lose my job. I won’t ever have a chance to pay off my gas bill. I’ll be sitting in the cold and get the virus.”
Melissa: “And my favorite senator Bernie won’t get a debate audience to preach his Chinese social democracy.”
Corona: “Miss Maria, don’t you worry. Spring is coming. If they shut off your gas you’ll soon be warm enough. Anyway, I’ll be going on Spring Break to give you guys a break.”
Tom: “But they don’t want you in Cancun, Mr. Corona.”
Corona: “The young don’t bother with me, they sneeze me off. And Miss Melissa, the young don’t need Bernie’s debate to be revolutionary. They are in their habitual sturm und drang period, you know, being permanently stressed out.”
Fred: “Who made you and who sent you here?”
Corona: “‘Made in China.’ Like printed on the Amazon, Walmart or Home Depot boxes you get at the shop. China sent me here in revenge for the anti-China U.S. tariff policies and property theft measures, but something happened along the way.”
Ted: “Say it, what happened?”
Corona: “They didn’t package me and my comrades well enough. Some of them fell out in Wuhan and infested a chicken market. That’s how it all started.”
Cindy: “That’s like playing with Chinese gun powder at a Chinese fireworks factory. Now we have this worldwide mess.”
Corona: “China was left with no choice but to disrupt the world in the face of the American assault on its economy.”
Cindy: “China already assaulted the world with the bird flue in 1997. The SARS flue, also a coronavirus, in 2003, and now again with you, a new flue version. Aren’t you feeling guilty about deaths in China and the world?”
Corona: China will barely notice the unintended consequences of the escape of my comrades in Wuhan. It has 1.5 billion people. A few thousands gone is a drop on a hot plate. Our Corona team has more impact in other places, such as Europe and here. That’s our goal. Submit Europe and the USA. China will win this battle and leave you breathless.”
Caithlyn: “But your panic destroys everybody’s livelihood, so China will suffer too.”
Corona: “For centuries we have lived in abject poverty, and we survived many population crises, thanks to the Chinese Communist Party. We will survive this one too, but the West, and in particular the U.S. won’t. Already you’re crumbling in your political cabal. Democracies are suicidal.”
Melissa: “The good thing is that Trump can’t have his MAGA rallies anymore. Biden won’t need a rally to make gaffes, so Bernie will win.”
Frank: “How will people go to the voting booths in November? They must postpone the elections.”
Tom: “So what are your plans, Mr. Corona, after you come back from spring break?”
Corona: “I come back in the fall with new vigor in a mutated shape, immune to your vaccine whenever you get one. Meanwhile, my teammates will continue to roam around, upsetting everybody. We love panics, like your democrats and your hysterical media. Your flue shots won’t affect us viruses.”
Cindy: “But China needs our market to make a living. You are a two-edged sword, Mr. Corona. You in China should have been more careful of what you wished for.”
Corona: “Thanks to your technology transfers, willingly or unwillingly, China, as a nation of 1.5 billion, is self-sufficient now. We don’t need your stuff anymore and can live happily without you, making it ourselves. We are the number one producer of anti-biotics and make all your medicines. We will survive, you won’t.”
Frank: “By the way, Mr. Corona, shouldn’t you be wearing a mask?”
At this moment, Jason, the bartender, enters holding a Lysol spray can in a shooting position, but Mr. Corona was gone already, leaving the Friends speechless, sucking their beer-stained masks.
Once you reach a certain age, the heliphone starts ringing. It always does around or a while after midnight. Nowadays, it rings more often. Past loves are calling in from the afterlife. The other night it was Amalia.
“I didn’t see you at my funeral. Why didn’t you come? Why not bring me any flowers? After all, we spent some good times together.”
“Oh, dearest Amalia! Your voice sounds just like before. Australia was a bit far for me. Where are you now?”
“Much farther than Australia. You remember that day in the dunes?”
“Wonderful. I often dream of it.”
“So how come you didn’t marry me?”
“Blame it on my immaturity. I didn’t realize how good you would’ve been for me.”
“That figures; you were proposing all over the place after you left me. Are you any happier now?”
“It would’ve been nice to share our lives. If I’d had more than one, I would’ve done it.”
“I’ll keep a seat reserved for you here then. Till soon.”
The heliphone broke off. That “soon” gave me the shivers. I got up and made myself a stiff Martini. What did she know?
Earlier this week, I got another call from Irene.
“Nobody came to my funeral. Only Cindy, you remember, our bridesmaid, and that bloody husband of mine who’d left me alone most of the time. Why did you divorce me? “
“Probably for the same reason your second husband left you alone.”
“We had so much fun together, don’t you remember that sofa?”
“I do, delightful, but you embezzled my money.”
“Come on. All that paper’s just monopoly money. You can’t take it over here.”
“Where’s over here?”
“The purgatory. I don’t know why they put me here. It’s always cold. I spent time enough in jail.”
“Terrible. It surprised me you got married again.”
“I got him the same way I got you.”
“By pretending he’d made me pregnant.”
“Yeah, I remember that. I think purgatory is fine for you.”
The line broke off. I shivered again and took another Lorazepam. Was I lucky I got rid of her. She took all my money and still keeps calling me. That heliphone is a nightmare.
Mid-week wasn’t any better. It was Marilou, the fat girl from Switzerland, who I heard via the grapephone had suddenly passed away.
“I got heart trouble because I was overweight.”
“I’m so sorry, Marilou. I guess you’ve got plenty to eat now and can’t die anymore.”
“I still hate you. You only made love to me in the Alps because you got high rubbing my big boobs. You were a pervert.”
“I remember you telling me that. I broke my back, lifting you all the time because you couldn’t stay up on your skis.”
“I offered you my millions of Swiss Francs, but you only wobbled in between my boobs, said ‘Ahhh,’ and left me.”
“You told me the Swiss tycoon you married did it for your boobs too.”
“He was supposed to go before me. Now he’s got all my money and married an ultra-slim pin-up from Vanity Fair.”
“Are you calling him too?”
“His phone is off the hook. I hate Vanity Fair.”
The heliphone died away. Marilou was one of those sad moments in life you want to forget but keep being reminded of. How did she get my number?
Last night was the worst ever. It was Anita from Norway, my biggest regret in love life.
“I wish I’d married you,” Anita said.
“A bit late to tell me that now. What happened?”
“My husband murdered me.”
“Oh, no! Why?”
“Because I kept dreaming aloud at night mentioning your name, saying that I loved you.”
“I hope they put him on death row.”
“Death row does not exist in my country. But hell does here.”
“Awful. You think I could do anything?”
“Go to his prison and poison him. I want him in hell right now where they’ll knife him with red-burning forks every second.”
“But they’d catch me and put me in prison as well.”
“Don’t worry. I’m told we have our ways up here and I’ll protect you.”
“But I won’t get you back, Anita. What’s the point?”
“You’ll be here soon enough, darling, and we’ll live happily ever after.”
That was enough to whip me into a frenzy, and I swallowed two Lorazepams, but I stayed awake all night, shivering.
* * *
I’m on my way to Oslo now with a dose of cyanide wrapped in foil paper and my heliphone in my pocket to get word where that prison is.
Sitting cramped in my window seat, I wondered why the moon had this mocking smile on his face. My heliphone didn’t ring. Maybe because of secret regulations between Heaven and air traffic control?
I still didn’t know the whereabouts of Anita’s husband’s prison. I stumbled through customs on arrival at dawn. A voice told me that the cab driver would know. “Oslo fengsel,” he confirmed. After going through town, he turned into a long driveway lined by leafless trees and snow-covered grounds, ending at a somber red-stone building. “You wait,” I said and went in. The guards watched me, quizzically. I’d dressed as a priest, my faith-inspiring white-collar shining trustingly behind the white scarf around my neck. I didn’t speak a word of Norwegian but had many times mumbled Anita’s husband’s name, Wilhelm Lassen, that bloody Viking.
I sat in the bare visiting room when Wilhelm Lassen entered, accompanied by a guard, and took the only other seat across the steel table, his face one question mark. The guard left and shut the door. I gazed at Lassen’s hands. As I’d suspected, he didn’t wear rings in prison. I hoped he spoke a bit of English.
“My name’s Father John,” I said. “I’m bringing you a final word from Anita.”
The man’s face grew grey; his lips tightened; his eyes squinted. “Anita dead,” he said with a rolling accent. “I did do nothing. She suffered breath shortage. Who are you?”
“Her confessor when she lived with you in Geneva. She left this small package with me to hand you in case she’d die before you.” I pulled a blue jewelry box from my pocket and handed it to him. In it was a golden ring I’d dipped with a tweezer into a small base with liquid cyanide in the airplane toilet a short while before landing. A friend at a chemical factory gave me the deadly stuff, believing I’d use it to kill persistent mice in my basement. If Wilhelm slid the ring on his finger, his skin would absorb the cyanide, and death would follow soon.
Wilhelm opened the box and stared at it. “My wedding ring?” he asked. “I thought I’d lost it. Rar,” (‘strange’) he muttered. Then he shifted it onto his ring finger, looking sad.
The guard came in and warned me my time was up. I stood, said farewell to Wilhelm, and left as fast as I could. The cab driver took me rapidly to the airport, and I grabbed the first flight out to Amsterdam to erase my footsteps, hopefully having left pandemonium at the Oslo fensel. In Amsterdam, I got the last seat in a crowded United flight to Washington; mission accomplished, I reckoned.
Back home at night, the heliphone rang. It was Anita.
“Thank you, Johnnyboy. He’s nicely burning in Hell, screaming his lungs out.”
“But won’t I be punished?”
“No, you’ll be rewarded in Heaven when you get here in a while. Can’t wait.” Her heavenly voice drifted away.
“Crime pays in the afterlife,” I whispered and fell asleep, uncomfortable about Anita’s eagerness of my forthcoming passing.
Wilhelm’s death was reported as a suicide.
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