MAYDAY 1: Tuesday, June 16, 2015: Donald John Trump, aka The Don and 3rd mate Melania, in an as if, gliding, descent, from Heaven. Once upon

firmament, a soon-to-be president, announced a laughable candidacy for the presidency. To run like a business … the nation.

To run, like a business, the nation. And to run it like, nobody’s business. Nobody’s business, that is, but … his own. Once on firmament, a soon-to-be,

president, announced his candidacy to run, for the presidency. Against, all odds. And the rest, is history.

Verily, the rest, is history. For history is truly, His story. The Almighty’s. Of Urantia (Earth). And US. A matrix, lovingly benevolent, across universes,

vast. Urantia alone, takes, exception. The Golden Rule rules not, here. Here alone, in universes.

Of Urantia (Earth). And US. A matrix, lovingly benevolent, across His vast, universes. Except, here, in Urantia The Golden Rule, rules not, here.

Here alone, among His, universes, unrest unruly, rules. “Houston. We’ve got a surreally, grave problem, here.”

Locally the fabric of the matrix, has lost its integrity. Unlike everywhere else across the universes, here the fabric, whole, is not. It is holy. Witness, Kim,

The Don, The Xi and The Vlad, presiding. And witness Art, in verse, reverse them … in wisdom.

Witness an autistic Arthur. Arthur, the bullied. Arthur, the prodigal. But Arthur the bullied, taken from a past, was given to a future. There to become,

Angel-trainee. Witness his presidential, brothers. Witness, store greeter Arthur, a messenger, become.

In training is Arthur, the Angel Trainee. And he’s asking the cabal of his brothers that effectively is ruling man to reconsider. And do the right thing.

The right thing. Not by themselves. But by their brothers. Tweet to your brothers. On doing the right thing.

Tweet ye my brethren then across all the land and cyberspace. Tweet, that it’s fake news that doing the right thing is hard to do. In theory, it’s easy. In

training is Arthur, the Angel Trainee. And he is asking ye, his brothers, to do … the right thing.

In training is Arthur. And while the Angel Trainee wins his wings with a planetary save, that, for store greeter Arthur, no conflicting interest, is. Art

must coerce them. By leaking the minutes, of meetings. Blackmailing his presidential brothers, is Art.

Imagine tweeting exactly what ye want to say, in exactly, 280, spaces. Perfect, couplet, verse. Then imagine the linking of verses, to tell … a story.

Imagine too, that The Don is part (with Kim, Xi and Vlad) of a cabal of four. Then imagine that ye are, the hero, of the story.

Arthur (Art) Everman is the author of MAYDAYS. Epic, poetry. Verses linked into a story, poetic, not prose.
Arthur’s the hero. For once. A super

hero, one might say. Unless one saw him. Super-weak, is Arthur. But Arthur’s words, his weapons … are super.

Arthur (Art) Everman is the author of MAYDAYS. Epic, poetry. Verses, linked into stories, poetic, not prosaic.
Art’s the hero, A super one, one may

say. Unless one, sees him. A weakling is he. But words for Art, are weapons. To save … a day … some day.

But words are for Art, tools, if not, weapons. To save a day, some day, perhaps. At night. In dreams. In soiréeing, on Luna. That’s where Arthur

pens the minutes of their nightly meetings. The meetings are nightly. But the minutes are fleeting, for Arthur.

Words are tools. Not weapons. But sound contingency planning calls for tools of construction, multi-purposed, for that purpose,

defensive. To save a day, some day, perhaps. When in self-defense words, mightier than swords … become weapons … of purpose.

Mightier than swords, words, may be. Particularly, if for purposes, defensive. Words are tools. Not weapons. But sound contingency planning

calls for tools of construction multi-purposed for a most noble purpose, defensive. To save a day, one day a-coming.

Mightier than swords, words, may be. Particularly, if for purposes, defensive. Words are tools. Not weapons. But sound contingency planning’s,

calling for tools of construction multi-purposed for noble purposes, defensive. To save a day, one day, a-coming.

Spectacular’s been The Don’s career, trajectory. Real estate, magnate. Reality TV, celebrity. Ghost, author. Apprentice, President. Of The Don,

Don Jr’s his first-born. So Don Jr’s an author too. Of hashtag #loserteacher. Don Jr’s a loser teacher. And sadly, also … a loser son.

On Don Jr’s attack on teachers. In defense of his daddy, The Don. The draft-dodging former real estate magnate, reality TV star and action,

author, now become, presidential, apprentice. Of President Don and his first-born, Don Jr. Lost boys. Lost … sons.

Lost, boys. Lost, sons. The Don. And Don Jr. Third and fourth generation German immigrants, respectively. On Don Jr’s attack on so-called loser-teachers.

In defense of his daddy, the Mafioso, The Don. To best them Art has been recalled from … the future.

Third and fourth generation German immigrant scions are The Don and Don Jr, respectively. Silver-spooned scions of patriarch, Friedrich Drumpf.

Drumpf got changed to Trump. An American dream become American scheme. Rich is the grandson of Friedrich Drumpf.

Immigrant scions. The Don and Don Jr. Silver-spooned scions of patriarch, Friedrich Drumpf. Drumpf got changed to Trump. An American, dream. An American,

scheme. Rich is the grandson of Friedrich. His rubles, in banks, on account, in dollars … American.

And Republicans Weld’s primary challenge on top of everything already on the table, is just piling on, unnecessarily. For the presidency’s scrutiny,

is spotlight, like. Like being on stage. Under. And in. A really intense spotlight, undulating, surreally.

Spotlight like is the scrutiny of a so-called, fake media. But ‘taint nothing like His scrutiny. ‘Taint nothing, like it. ‘Tis why Art tweets in 280 characters,

precisely. ‘Tis to warn ye to heed indeed, Art’s warning of a cabal of criminal … characters.

But fear not. Art’s here. Back in the present. From the future. To tweet to ye. On what’s happening back stage. Behind the scenes. Spotlight like scrutiny

of a so-called fake media in the face of attack, counter, attacks. As 280 characters attack, virally.

But fear not. Art’s here. Back in the present. From the future. To tweet to ye. On what’s happening back stage. Behind the scenes. Where scrutiny’s

… scarce. In the face of attack, counter, attack. And, with 280 characters, any ONE, may attack, virally.

With 280 characters ANY ONE may attack (or defend), another, virally. Virtually, for free. To tweet and opine on what’s happening back stage.

Facing attack, communicate. With 280 characters, Truth, rings true. Any one may communicate. Any one. Of any, age.

Why not, like sub-reddits, cash-flow-friendly, sub-Twitters? There is Twitter after all, something magically real, in your algorithm. Verily … it is poetry.

Why not like cash-flow-friendly sub-Reddits, sub-Twitters? Why not feature, 280 character, poetry?

Why not feature Twitter, in a sub-Twitter, 280 character, poetry? There seems something magically real, in your algorithm. Verily … it is poetry.

Why not like cash-flow-friendly sub-Reddits, sub-Twitters? Why not feature a focus on 280 character, poetry?

@Jack: That metaphysical something in Twitter’s algorithm is potential energy. And it may trigger revelation. And epiphany.

Courtesy of Pen, poetry. Penemue. The Watcher. Of, the Apocrypha. Thanks to Pen (Penemue, per the Apocrypha) … we have … poetry.

That metaphysical something in Twitter’s algorithm is potential, energy. To trigger revelation. And epiphany. Thanks to Penemue … poetry.

Penemue. The Watcher. Of the Apocrypha. Thanks to Pen (Penemue, per the Apocrypha), we have Sappho. In her, poetry.

Beloved by (wo)man, is Pen’s poetry.

“Help elect, children for Emperor of Urantia, the former President of US, The Don. Follow me Art. And the children. I’m the only one that can

resolve the thorny issues of climate change, mass migrations and violence with weapons and migrant … caravans.”

Astonished, was Art. That the former President of US should have a stump speech, for a new office, at the ready. The Don is the only one that can

resolve the thorny issues of climate change, mass migrations and violence, with weapons and migrant, caravans.

Astonished, was Art. That the former President of US should have a stump speech, for a new office, at the ready. The Don is the only one that can

resolve issues of climate change, mass migrations and violence, with weapons. No one else, can. Only Don, can.

Climate change, mass migrations and violence, with weapons. No one else, can. Only Don, can. Astonished, was Art. That the former President

of US should have a stump speech for a new office, at the ready. Need The Don resign, a Plan B, hath, the President.

A Plan B hath the President. In case of resignation. Resignation by Republicans on the real state of the union. And, of the presidency,

resignation. On reinventing The Don, in that eventuality. A Plan B, hath, the President. For his plans, post-presidency.

In case of resignation. Resignation by Republicans, on the real state of the union. And, of the presidency, resignation. On reinventing The Don,

in that eventuality. A Plan B, hath, the President. For his plans, post-presidency. A Plan B … hath, The Don.

The Don, internationally recognized, is becoming. He is being considered for the 2019 Nobel Prize. He imagines it looking well, on his mantle. Thanks to

‘Honest’ Abe Shinzo. A Peace Prize just like that of Barack Obama. Surreally, a Nobel for The Don, too.

MAYDAYS: On a paradigm of sovereignties disfavoring the common man. Disfavoring, every man, verily. Go, viral. Pressure, virtually. To end

paradigms of sovereignties, archaic, favor communally, the unity favored by Him. Go, viral. Virtually pressure them.

And they are, to name but few: In a first tier, Vladimir, The Donald, Xi Jingping and Kim Jong un. Criminal heads of state. And we sheep in
our

enslavement, are complicit. But comes an hour when dominoes fall, invariably. The Don, first. Comes … an hour.

In a second tier, relatively second tier, autocrats. Erdogan. Mohammed bin Salman. But Vladimir’s rule as the puppet master is, by
pupil puppet President

Don, in question On attack on all sides is, rebel without a cause, Donald John Trump, the President.

Art’s been wondering whether the President is astute enough to have a plan, alternative, should he be forced to resign from the 46th, presidency.

Surreally, Art knows. The President can’t even spell astute, much less, make plans, logically and reasonably.

So, surprised was Art when The Don in soirée last night did say, “Pass the baton, Art. Ye are too old. Ye have too little energy left in your tank. Follow me

Art. I’m the only one that can tame twin problems of climate change and immigration. Only … me.”

Flabbergasted was Arthur when The Don said to him, “Pass the baton, Art. Ye are too old. Ye have way too little energy left in your tank. So follow me.

I’m the only one that can tame the twin problems of climate change and immigration. Only me. Follow me.

“Pass the baton, Art. Ye are too, low energy. So follow me. And the children. I’m the only one that can resolve issues of climate change,

migrations and violence, with weapons. Help the children elect, The Don. For Emperor … of Urantia. For … change.”

A whistleblower, shrill, is Arthur, the author. And determined to be as shrill as need be, to get the attention of the citizens, of Urantia. A phenomenal

irony, that. That Art Everman and his brothers Kim, Xi, Don and Vladimir and their plans … go viral.

Irony populates the pages of Art’s MAYDAYS. Ironies like the binary nature of the universes. Giving us day. And night. The seasons. Truth. And lies.

Art’s going viral. To leak the plans of Don and a cabal of lying brothers. Insights too, into, why, we lie.

Insight into, why, we lie. Death by countless, cuts. It’s not that Art knows so much. He’s as dumb as a rocky, road. And how could he otherwise be,

being, the brother of Don? But Art telepathically hears in the hum of the hood over his stove, epic, poetry.

Art senses, in the hum of the hood over his stove, telepathically, epic, poetry. Fully formed tweets, as if flow, from his fingers. It’s not talent. Don considers

him, dumb. Dumb, as a rock. How could Arthur otherwise be, being, The Don’s autistic, brother?

Arthur’s, autistic. His autism, defect enough for Don to bully Art in their youths. Art’s autism tho is not why Art is from a distant, future, returned.

The mission is to save Urantia and its (wo)men. The real reason Art is, the prodigal brother, returned.

Art’s autism tho is not why Art’s from a future, returned. The real mission is to save Urantia and its humans. It’s the real reason, Arthur’s a prodigal,

brother, returned. For autism may be of value, to a prodigal brother whose mission … must go, viral.

Arthur’s very own autism, ironically, may be of value to the prodigal brother whose mission must, to ultimately succeed, go viral.

For unusual behaviors oft are accompanied by capabilities, unusual. Autism. Of value to one whose mission … must go, viral.

Of value to Art in his mission to save Urantia and the estranged brothers residing upon it has been, his autism. Hopefully, eventually, it’ll go, viral.

Virtually pressuring them to shed US of a paradigm of sovereignties. To favor a unity, let US go viral.

MAYDAYS: To pressure our sham leaders to do the right thing in the interests of their peoples‘, not theirs, the sovereignties, shed. Communally, favor

the unity favored by Him. Go viral. Pressure, virtually, to end a paradigm, of sovereignties, disfavored.

Young folks really, really, want a green, new deal. The first step is complete. Millennials have changed the terms of the debate. It is past time to change

the future. If only, older generations help, save the planet. Let US, fear not, sensible … change.

Make no mistake, demographers, pollsters and politicians. Youngsters really want a green, new deal. There is a proposal in Congress. Millennials,

approvingly, are already proving, that the pendulum, ever swings. Beware President Donald … the Millennials.

It is Urantia’s two billion disenfranchised citizens, its children, that have the most to lose here. The children. Our legatees. Left without birthright.

The legatees stand to inherit a planet stranger than that of their parents. And that’s just not right.

For atmospheric reasons beyond the scope of this book, only Truths may be spoken in soirée, on Luna.

Unlike Urantia where the lie rules … on Luna, rules Truth. And as goes Urantia, so goes, Luna.

Unlike Urantia, where lies rule, on Luna, rules Truth. Luna has a lot of skin at stake in Urantian skin games, gone wild. On lying. A contradiction,

caused. And its effect. A lunar effect, Art may use, to force men against interest, to do, the right thing.

To force his brothers in the cabal to do the right thing and to thwart their plan to, the planet of Urantia, divvy up … between them, Arthur,

the author warned them all, last evening, in their nightly soirée, on Luna. That of MAYDAYS, Art … is author.

Given that Don’s been mulling over, resigning, maybe this all really has been, just a prelude to, a suicide. On going down with guns blazing. The wall

or bust! So much for that. He was, bluffing. Still, political suicide, suits The Don. All … for a wall.

President Don fancies that he has an air of unpredictability. Indeed, the Dems think that they have right where they want him, President Don.

In the position of accepting a deal that is worse than, what he began with. A bitter pill … to swallow, for Don.

Imagine Twitter, ALL the people. It’s not hard to do. Men. Women. Children. Especially, the children. Imagine too Twitter, your cash, flow. For good

karma oft causes, fast flowing, cash. Prosperity comes to a company, long term, when the karma … is good.

In catbird seat are the cats at Twitter. Twitter’s algorithm, to them Twitter cats’ credit, as if magically doing, the heavy, lifting. Yet catbird seats, better

still may yet be in store, for them cool, Twitter cats. If only more egalitarian, were Twitter.

Pray tell Twitter: Why not Twitter, sub-forums? To engage tweeters. To attract advertisers. Verily, ye need to appear to be fair moderators of your forum.

Ones not favoring the opinions of some over others. Why not Twitter, for Art’s MAYDAYS, a sub-forum?

Why not Twitter, for Art’s MAYDAYS, a sub-forum? To engage tweeters. To attract advertisers. Ye reasonably need to appear to be fair moderators of Twitter’s

forum. But sub-forums like sub-Reddits, attract advertisers and please, your clients, the tweeters.

Why not Twitter, for Art’s MAYDAYS, a sub-forum? To engage tweeters. To attract advertisers. Ye need to be certainly, fair moderators, of Twitter’s

forum. But sub-forums, like sub-Reddits, spark cash flows, attract advertisers and please, client, tweeters.

Sub-forums, like sub-Reddits, spark cash flows, attract advertisers, and, please, Twitter’s tweeters. Sub-forums … Twitter, may turbo-charge your

current cash flow. Be fair moderators (your raison d’être). Still, tailor content for tweeters … of yours.

When last we were with our anti-hero brothers they were worried. As everybody knows, President Don is compromised. His demise is frightening

the cabal of brothers, now actually considering, working together. That it’s happening, to Art, is not, surprising.

Irreparably compromised, the cabal of ruling brothers has voted to do right. Make no mistake. To do right by themselves. Not by the planet.

It’s as if it’s Groundhog Day, every evening, on Luna. They say … they’ll do right. But then … they don’t do it.
They say they’ll do right. Then they

don’t do it. The cabal has voted to do the right thing. As they see it. By them. They voted to do right by them. Not by the planet. So did the cabal vote yesterday.