How Crazy Conspiracy Stories are Born

An afternoon’s pure speculation about how crazy conspiracy stories are born.

I have been thinking about some curious details in Trumpland. For some time Trump has had some intermittent difficulty with simple speech patterns. Not just the difficulty between origins and oranges, convefe and whatever he was trying to say, and lately his remarks about the continental air forces as well as several others, but his inability to notice the problem, matched with the frequently reported rages at things that have happened around him.

For a long time I have noticed the repetitive use of words and phrases, that have been thought to be just a manner of oratorical speaking. What appears to be the total inability to recognize truth from fiction in his rantings even when he ought to know that his contrary remarks are a matter of taped record. Many other aspects of his behavior, such as with females and the excessively friendly relationship with the most despicable world characters seem to scream out that something is very wrong with his brain functions.

Trump’s mental and physical health has long been open speculation. The report from that screwball doctor in Queens, NY, really opened more queries than were answered. Then last week suddenly the Veep’s plane was turned around and Pence was rushed back to Washington with no explanation. There could have been many reasons, but few that could not be explained to the press unless there is something very secret happening.

The official explanation was that there was an active shooter and there were shots fired, but neither shooter nor evidence of shots having been fired, and little more was made of it in the press.

There are enough nearby airports in the vicinity of that USAF base that a safe landing could have been made, even if the plane had remained airborne circling for an hour or so. Perhaps a passing vehicle backfiring was enough to, in an abundance of caution have caused the base to close and others to be alert, but it just sounds fishy to me, and this administration has yet to gain even middling marks for truthful reporting.

I suggest that Trump is having occasional, even frequent mental incidents rendering the White House staff to be concerned enough that they wanted the next in line available for an emergency. Think about the additional aberrations that have been covered up by his staff. Things like that have happened before, Wilson’s sickness, Roosevelt’s disability and increasing debility, and of course, Kennedy’s Addison’s Disease and his reliance on massive medications, all covered up by his friends and family, come to mind. Is there any disease that might cause such symptoms? Perhaps dementia, inability to perform certain acts, headaches and fatigue, difficulty with brain function beyond what is normal with age?

How about something so bad that close associates and staff riding the gravy train are horrified? And once the cover-up commences, the players are trapped into silence and compliance. Could something have been diagnosed during one of his trips overseas by foreign doctors and potentially used by ruthless leaders to influence behavior? Maybe it was something so serious that a commissioned naval officer might feel that as long as it lies dormant it would be in the national interest to conceal from the American public. “I am not a doctor,” people will say so I should stick to my knitting, but the possibilities I have conjured up in my mind, frankly worry me.

Let me add another thing. There is a very strange dynamic between husband and wife. Melania actually lives somewhere in Maryland and avoids staying at the White House. Some of the facial expressions, captured on film are difficult to reconcile with a “loving relationship” between a husband and wife. Not really hatred, but to me somewhere closer to genuine disgust.

I seem to recall another incident where Pence was off on a trip, South America, I believe, and suddenly with neither explanation nor forewarning he returns to Washington early in the Trump administration. What do you think?

Note: recently the “Active shooter” excuse was replaced with something about Pence not wanting to be photographed with one of the greeting party because he is a known, or accused, drug kingpin. I wonder how long it will be before that story is replaced?

Charlie Jensen

Copyright 2019, Foc’sle Chatter, All Rights Reserved

To Impeach or Not To Impeach, That is the Question

While I Understand the political implications of creating a tempest in the impeachment teapot that could backlash in the election, what if we wait and lose through repeated misconduct? Who would further hand power to a bunch of political fairies who are afraid of their own shadow?

Distasteful as it may be, meaningful wrong doing has been uncovered. The path to solving the problem is clear as shown in the Mueller documents. The dangers of continued procrastination are looming as new violations are added every day. The time is now, investigate or drown in a sea of neglect.

“THESE ARE TIMES

THAT TRY MEN’S SOULS”

~Thomas Paine

“These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives everything its value…..” December 23, 1776, Thomas Paine

We as a nation have allowed a pending tyranny to violate our laws, to upend and trample on our customs and risk descending into an historical darkness as other democracies have done throughout history. The risk is clear. The choice stares us in the face. We must not flinch If we hope to remain free men and women ourselves, or have any hope of passing on to our children and grandchildren a fraction of what our parents fought for and died for just seventy-five years ago.

We must take the steps, under law, of investigating and indicting the tyrant followed by a conviction and removal, of the illegal president and his merry crew of sycophants, or lose our political souls, and our children’s future.

Charlie Jensen

Copyright 2019, Foc’sle Chatter, All Rights Reserved

President Pele

The caddies really did give Trump the nickname “Pele” as he kicks the ball so often. I think we should all use that “nom de crayola” for him all the time, at least until he issues an executive order to prosecute those who respond. Yes, President Pele fits him just right.

I’m originally from New York and the current President Pele was known in The Big Apple as a liar, a cheat, a serial adulterer, a draft dodger, a multiple business failure and general “SOTE” that is Scum of the Earth.

When the NY banks will not deal with you, the Mafia loan sharks say, no way, and the local lawyers, who generally will represent just about any lowlife who can pay, all have full calendars, you should know better than to vote for him. So I have little political sympathy for the mid-west farmers who are now reaping the whirlwind. It is a shame that so many decent people and their families are being hurt. And actually disastrous that this country of laws, generally self enforced laws., are being broken right in front of the Congress that is not able to perform its sworn duty because of cowards who fear losing their seats. more than they are willing perform their duties of office.

Charlie Jensen

Copyright 2019, Foc’sle Chatter, All Rights Reserved

Quo Vadis Populus – Where are we going people?

Why do you stop at a four way stop sign, even when you are at an open crossroad and can see a mile or more in either direction? Even if it is a rolling stop, a sort of automotive genuflection as you cross the path of the intersecting road, it is recognition that it is required by law.

Why do you send in a tax form when it is due to an over worked bureaucracy, even when you know that between a multi-state move and a change of jobs to one where you work for cash, you can disappear into the underground economy and avoid the complications of tax laws ?

Why do you trudge down to the draft board and register when you can see the road to Canada is wide open and hardly monitored?

Could it be that we are a nation of sheep, afraid of neglecting such matters, or is it because from an early age the concept of obeying, at least in spirit, the written laws of a free nation is bred into us as righteous citizens?

Is it possibly from an ingrained sense of right versus wrong and a deeply ingrained spirit of citizenship?

For whatever reason our laws are self-enforced and most people obey them regardless of whether the law enforcement authorities are looking over our shoulders or not. When did this sense of right, wrong, and personal responsibility develop? It seems to have been embedded in the culture of Great Britain from which the first colonials to arrive belonged. It was enhanced as these brave colonists set out to cross a forbidding ocean to conquer the vast forests of the new world. It was passed on to settlers from other nations who left their homes and joined in with the early colonists to create our own system of self-government.

For over 200 years we have been a nation of laws and free citizens who essentially trusted one another to also participate in our society, our culture and our government, obeying the nation’s just laws and correcting those that were less than perfectly formed. Two hundred and thirty years ago a group of knowledgeable, well known Colonists gathered in Philadelphia during a hot summer and tried to create a functional government. They had three fears of note; one was a fear of the mob, the majority and that the government would follow the mistakes of the ancient Athenian democracy, where the loudest voices, the best speakers, possibly the sleaziest orator in the crowd, could over run what may have been a righteous minority.

Another fear was the tyranny of the elite who might rally behind some leader who would assume the powers and possibly the rights of a monarch.

A third, dark fear was that the growing numbers of an armed slave insurrection might rise up and demand similar or equal rights.

To protect the people from these problems they designed a tripartite system of government, that is; an executive, who would be charged with faithfully carrying out, obeying and protecting the Laws and Constitution, a legislature that would enact the laws of the nation, and a judiciary to settle disputes between parties which within a few years also took on the burden of determining that the laws created by the legislature remained within the parameters of that Constitution.

The legislature was further divided into two segments, a Senate that should represent the states and wealthier class, and a House of Representatives which was planned to protect the interests of the average working citizen. They were supposed to work together and seek a compromise when necessary, but above all things, be fair and just in their dealings with one another.

The Founders created an executive with restricted powers and subject to legislative oversight. The Judiciary also had the power to prevent the Executive from exceeding its assigned powers. This was a fantastic interlocking set of offices and powers. Each being subject to oversight of another and each having some means of preventing excess of one of the other components.

For over two hundred years this system worked pretty well, with few major crises, all of which were resolved by adherence to the laws, customs and court decisions as to the meaning and impact of those court rulings. Just as important, all, including the most humble citizen, were expected to do his, or her, part to preserve and protect the system.

While some political leaders may have contemplated simply ignoring certain laws, with a few exceptions our habit of self-enforcement caused most to eventually comply with them. Not so with the present administration. Laws are being avoided and blatantly ignored, or interpreted by lap-dog advisors who have stretched legalisms to the breaking point, such as the contorted decision that torture was not really torture a few years ago and allowed some activities that have stained the nations honor.

A spirit of modern antinomianism never contemplated by the founders and forty administrations has grown to the point where the legislature is unable to participate in the process of “Checks and Balances” necessary for our participatory self-enforced system to work. I believe one of the bulwarks of our society is the assumption that all members be speaking the truth as they see it and that no one is completely above the law. We have seen multiple examples of the current administration caring not one wit for the law, truth or apparently personal honor. Fighting these people with subpoenas is like going to a knife fight with no belt for your loose britches and a heavy law book in your hip pocket. This begs the question, “Quo vadis populus?”

What will happen if the election is close and Trump decides he has the imperial right to declare a state that chose his opponent’s votes null and void? And he is supported by the toadies who surround him and filter his reality. Opposition of that event might be opposed in the streets by citizens who object to losing the franchise and could result in a national emergency being declared with the military being federalized. That was done before when riots broke out in Detroit, Newark, and other cities in the late sixties. All he would need would be a few high ranking officers who are able to convince themselves that Trump’s orders are valid and necessary. Who will lead the officials who remain faithful to the Constitution? Would a besieged president request the assistance of his bosom Rusky buddy to protect him from justice.

If we allow things to continue we run the distinct risk of losing the democracy that we were brought up to expect to struggle on. The place to stop such a horrendous series of steps is now before things get out of hand.

Charlie Jensen

Copyright 2019, Foc’sle Chatter, All Rights Reserved

Nothing but Fear Itself

Roller Coaster Ride

I never liked the roller coaster ride, 

Even with a favored girl by my side.

In high school I had to swallow my pride,

And though I remained quite horrified, 

I courted a girl, blondish hair, and blue-eyed,

Who loved that crazy infernal joyride,

Repeatedly testing a wooded hillside,

I pretended enjoyment but remained petrified.

 

An amusement park had a great roller coaster,

With one controlled fall after another, 

And several gut-wrenching twists, 

With sharp reversing turns in between. 

I always wondered why this petite female teen,

Treasured the ride, time and again.

But there was no denying her happy laughter, 

And endearing fresh smile as we were pulled up,  

To the top the blasted thing, over, and over. 

I suppose the excitement of innocent kissing, 

As we reached the peak of the first gradient, 

Affected my better judgment somewhat. 

So we did do the Rye Roller Coaster ride.

 

Along the way to the top of the arch,

A feeling of dread grew in my stomach, 

Concern that we might run off the rail,

But worse, was the fear that I might unveil,

My deep apprehension or a stream of vomit 

My half eaten breakfast, like the tail of a comet,

All over everyone in the first rolling “baquet”, 

(It had to be the first car, of course.)  

Something so terrible that it would sure shatter, 

And end my personal world of male swagger,

In front of, or possibly, all over to splatter,  

My classmates and the unsuspecting riders.

 

But over the top, we would go with force, 

I’d pull her in tight, protectively, of course, 

With my good right arm, whilst keeping,  

A death grip on the safety bar with the left arm.,

Hugging her as close as was permissible,

My date would emit an ear piercing scream,  

Her arms thrown around me apparently keen,

For each wild moment, and then as she’d lean

On my shoulder, and I’d pretend it was routine.

She would say “let’s do it again.”

 (My jaws would be clamped shut so that no one would hear my internal death screams.) 

_but screw up your courage to the sticking place_

Secretly, I could hear Lady Macbeth’s scratchy voice 

Whispering in my ear; “You have no choice, 

So screw up your courage to the sticking place, 

And we’ll not fall, Charlie Boy….”  

Now how the hell did Lady Macbeth know my name?

So, I’d tighten my “rectus abdominis” 

Pulling things together to appear virile and valorous,

Hiding the terror that lay just a bit indecorous,

Preserving an image of graceful demeanor.

 

After all, I couldn’t let common sense betray,  

Putting what I considered my reasonable fear, on display,

In front of my pretty companion, on that glorious day.

(Certainly they inspected these infernal devices every couple of years, right ? )

 

So yes, I tightened up my gut muscle, 

And assumed my best Henry V hustle,

“Once more unto the breach, my friends, once more”. 

Walking confidently to what was certainly,

To be my impending, unavoidable death. 

Consoled only, by the lonely, wistful thought,

At least, we would crash to the concrete court, 

Huddled together with our last passionate kisses, 

As the coaster splintered into a thousand pieces.

While all our friends, schoolmates and teachers, 

Exchanged doleful, knowing glances, {in sotto voce}.

“They were such a lovely couple.”

By Hilltoppersx at English Wikipedia - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21777140
Photo: Rye Playland Airplane Coaster circa 1927 Credit: Hilltoppersx at English Wikipedia

Well, I sometimes relive that magical afternoon, 

While riding the nightmare across the bedroom, 

Only to awaken and discover to my gloom,

There were no bugles or bagpipes of doom 

To complement the clash of swords and shields, 

It was just nature sounding a mid-night warning alarm.

 

Charlie Jensen

 

 

Copyright 2019, Focsle Chatter, All Rights Reserved