“Just as rearview mirrors bend space-time so that objects you’ve sped away from remain closer than apparent there once was a time

when The Don seemed like harmless fun. In days of an Apprentice, president. Who knew what tricks … had up its sleeve, time?”

“Who ever knows what tricks has, up its sleeve, time? Just as rearview mirrors bend space-time so that objects you’ve sped from apparent,

to be closer, there once was a time when Don seemed harmless, fun. In the halcyon days, of an Apprentice, president.”

“Alas — halcyon days — no more. No one ever knows, what in the hell, time’s up to. There once was a time when I was fun — now — I’m not no

fun, anymore. Not even funny, except to my base. A base, deplorably entertained by me. That’s an indictment … I know.”

“I read the screenplay and it blew me away. I’d say it’s coming to Broadway. It’s coming, to Broadway. It’s got to come, to Broadway.

Broadway may be the best way to chronicle these MAYDAYS. These halcyon days, no more. No one ever knows — alas — the way.”

“Alas my halcyon days if they ever were, are no more. No one ever knows what in the hell, time, it is. I’m not fun, anymore — not even funny

— to my base. A base, deplorably, entertained by me. And that’s a telling indictment I know, of me.”
cc: @WeChatApp

“Alas my halcyon days if they ever were, are no more. No one ever knows what in the hell, time, it is. I’m not fun, anymore — not even funny

— to my base. A white supremacist base, deplorably entertained, by me. That is a telling indictment I know, of me.”

“Whether it’s a wonderful time to be alive, depends. It depends on one’s circumstances. Where ye are and where ye may escape to when one

needs an escape from threats, existential. When threats like war, famine and climate change threaten, where goes, one?”

 

 

 

“Justice shall have to wait til I’m not prez to have me indicted. I won’t be indicted for crimes, meantime. With the Court’s help, I can just — wait

them out. Rudy’s up to his waist, in crime. I’ll be stunned if not indicted. But Justice for me … waits.”

“Justice in my case must await when I am no more, prez. To have me, for my crimes, indicted. But blame not Founding Fathers for not presciently

foreseeing one like Don. A freak of nature, our brother; a scourge of man; God-awful father … to his country.”

Like a football team up late in a game whose defense hangs back to prevent the big play, allowing shorter, underneath plays, President

Don is looking to run out clocks; putting forth dubious legal theories, often backed by scant, if any, legal, precedent.”

“Don is winning the war against democracy, notwithstanding, losing near every battle. The latest in a string of lower-court losses for Don’s administration

as he defends stonewalling of the lawmakers’ oversight, and Congress’ impeachment … investigation.”

“Don is winning the war against democracy, notwithstanding, losing near every battle. The latest in a string of lower-court losses for Don’s administration

as he defends stonewalling of the lawmakers’ oversight, and Congress’ impeachment … investigation.”

“I am winning the war against democracy, albeit I’m losing near, every battle. McGahn’s testimony loss, only the latest loss, for my administration.

Impeachment and acquittal may turn the tide for me; making, more likely, my threatening reelection. Oh my!”

“Irony slays me. Like the ironies in Art’s, MAYDAYS. MAYDAYS, now, ours also; now that I, President Don, have negotiated a deal between a Cabal, surreal,

and Arthur. To pen, MAYDAYS. To tell the fictional and highly unlikely story of an impeachment inquiry, only seemingly, real.”

“All along I have denied all wrongdoing and decried all investigations of me. I see no end to them. I see in Arthur’s poetry, funny,

stories. Rudy’s got skills, criminal. Mine, are literary. And we hope to craft a plea agreement resignation Nobel, worthy.”

“Rudy and I. We’re copping, pleas. One, for me. One for him, seems likely, soon too. My plea agreement, Rudy and I agree, is Nobel, worthy,

under the circumstances. Vlad and his Cabal agree, too. Time to resign; ere impeachment inquiries, get to Helsinki.”

“Time to resign from presiding over US. It’s no secret, state secrets, keep leaking. Vladimir fears an impeachment’s, inquiry’s, inquiries.

That answers to questions demystify the Helsinki summit — more snake oil show — than summit. Time to resign, maybe.”

“Is it time to resign? It depends. It depends on, circumstances; circumstances extant if and when — deep state traitors

— Witch Hunt Inquisitors, inquire about a meeting, in Finland. Off, with their heads! Off with the heads, of whistleblowing, traitors.”

“When you see a subpoena with eight different crimes listed, that’s — very telling. Rudy, as far as I can tell is — up to his eyeballs — in crime.

Surprised I’d be if Rudy’s, not indicted. I know that as long I’m prez — I won’t be indicted … for crimes.”

“I know that as long I’m president I won’t be indicted for crimes. Rudy’s up to his neck, in crime. I’d be astonished, if Rudy’s not indicted.

But my Department of Justice shall have to wait til I’m not the president, to have me, before them … indicted.”

“That backdrop ball of confusion we view from up here on Luna is the home of the four seasons and the home of Homo sapiens. Homo

sapiens. They are the stewards down there; like rock stars, trashing places. They abuse well. Using well … they don’t know.”

“In answer to Urantia’s greatest mystery, my answers to the bluebird’s ‘what’s happening’ questions. My legacy, ironically — beyond my presidencies,

my Nobels and my love lives shall be, my vision and my honesty. We’ve been wrong. But we’re sorry. Really.”

“My answer to the bluebird’s ‘what’s happening’ question shall be, to Urantia, my gift. My presidencies, my Nobels and my love lives pale

next to my vision and my honesty. Don’t worry. Be happy. I’ve been chosen. And it’s because of that, I can not, fail.”

“Artificial intelligence; it’s the future. It can simulate the Universe. It can figure out how to do just about anything. The stars are algorithms.

Algorithms, ‘Seldonian’. All kinds of behaviour, controlled. From out of the blue … in answer, algorithm.”

“MAYDAYS: String theory, extrapolated from the observations of our Universe suggest that, vibrations along those strings,

connect us all, to everything. Surreally, infinitely long, vibrating strings. Vibrating constantly; connecting, together, everything.”

“Energy Secretary Rick Perry reported that he told me I was God’s choice: “I said, ‘Mr. President I know there are people that say ye

said ye were the chosen one and I said, ‘You were. But I didn’t say ye shall be. Seems The Creator has lost faith in ye.’”

“Rick Perry told me I was God’s choice and in that I agree with him. He didn’t say tho — I shall be. Seems The Creator has lost faith in

me. He would remind thee and the rest of the brethren that what ye do to the least of his brothers, ye do also to Him.”

“He has always known I have no faith in Him. He, after all, made me. He made me with purpose, on purpose. To show how not to be.

And how not to govern. The destructive conflagration before regrowth, later, maybe. The question remains, to be or not, to be?”

“I am not afraid to use my own name to express my concerns about Barack, Hillary and Sleepy Joe. Not like whistleblowers like Arthur

Everman and like the still anonymous author of ‘Warning’. They hide behind the law. Doing the right thing are the authors.”

“Whistleblowers like Arthur Everman and like the still anonymous author of ‘Warning’ hide behind the law. But doing the right thing are the authors.

I know in my heart, what my lips, refuse to say. I have issues. As do all of my Cabalistic … co-authors.”

“I know in my heart, what my lips, say not. I have issues. As do all of my criminal brothers of The Cabal. Those same guys being the authors

of MAYDAYS. The same guys who wine and dine in nightly soirée on Luna. The very same, bad guys … now co-authors.”

“Justice shall have to wait til I’m not prez to have me indicted. I won’t be indicted for crimes, meantime. With the Court’s help, I can just — wait

them out. Rudy’s up to his waist, in crime. I’ll be stunned if not indicted. But Justice for me … waits.”

“I share not willingly with anybody anything. Everybody knows that. What ye think belongs to ye really surreally actually belongs to the

face of America. America first is for my base. I don’t give a damn about anyone not wearing mine, or Vladimir’s, face.”

“America first; red meat for my base; great patriots, oft, deplorable. I’m the cult’s leader. Their, white nationalist leader. They shall follow

me. And if I say so, they’ll follow, Vlad. To Charlottesville and beyond, the face of a nation they’ll follow.”

The Supreme Court may opt to hold The Don accountable, unanimously. To demonstrate certitude in these very uncertain very partisan times.

An opportunity to strike a course setting a strong precedent in cases pitting presidents against the Court next time.”

“Alas for Don there shall ne’er be any next time. Recall that Job One has always been to unconditionally avoid any jail time

for him; there’s no time for his kin. Rudy’s copping a plea for Don. His kids may need to get their own lawyers to skip jail time.”

“My kids need their own lawyers, not mine. Should they opt not to do any hard time, jail time. As for me there ne’er shall be any next time. Verily,

Job One has always been to avoid jail time. And so kin can spend time with me, but none, with my attorney.”

“I am a Russian asset, not a Russian government agent. I have become, Vlad’s boy. His poodle. His man, Friday. Job One has always been

about not going to prison. But my press conference transcript and what my White House edited-out, causes, consternation.”

“Make no mistake. I am a Russian government — asset, not a Russian GRU — agent. My press conference transcript from my agent‘s

meeting in Helsinki and what my White House, edited, out is causing in the light of Ukraine, worry, that I am an agent, Russian.”

“Sun Tsu last night in soirée said, ‘view the battlefield from that view that offers the best vantage from which to consider the answer to why

matters of advantage and disadvantage, matter.’ My transcript with Vlad Putin … was edited. Why on Earth? Why?”

“Tweet, Arthur says, in 280 characters to tell a story, as if a song. Like a hymn of measured meter, ebbing, then, flowing;

transforming any prose, to poetry. This is to clue ye in to purposes your Maker’s proposing and what about them ye ought, be doing.”

“That bears, repeating. Eureka! I have found the Cliff’s Notes to wisdom. Tell a story like a song. Like a hymn; like a river of meter; ebbing; flowing; transforming any prose to poetry. Your Maker’s proposing some renewed purpose for ye while yet living.”
“I propose today a renewed purpose for ye 8 billion. Tell stories, like songs. Like hymns. Like rivers of meter, ebbing and flowing. Be

fluid. Be water. Transforming any prose, as if magic, into poetry. So I win the noble Prize, let it be.”
cc: @NobelPrize

“Everyone knows I’m a certifiable something or other. I reiterate: Know this: My presidency and The Art of The Deal are just two of my stable,

of platforms. Genius oozes from my every pore. I’m ready, willing and able. No one knows I’m certifiably unable.”

“That backdrop ball of confusion we view from up here on Luna is the home of the four seasons and the home of Homo sapiens. Homo

sapiens. They are the stewards down there; like rock stars, trashing places. They abuse well. Using well … they don’t know.”

“In answer to Urantia’s greatest mystery, my answers to the bluebird’s ‘what’s happening’ questions. My legacy, ironically — beyond my presidencies,

my Nobels and my love lives shall be, my vision and my honesty. We’ve been wrong. But we’re sorry. Really.”

“My answer to the bluebird’s ‘what’s happening’ question shall be, to Urantia, my gift. My presidencies, my Nobels and my love lives pale

next to my vision and my honesty. Don’t worry. Be happy. I’ve been chosen. And it’s because of that, I can not, fail.”

“Artificial intelligence; it’s the future. It can simulate the Universe. It can figure out how to do just about anything. The stars are algorithms.

Algorithms, ‘Seldonian’. All kinds of behaviour, controlled. From out of the blue … in answer, algorithm.”

“Answers to urgent questions awaits but the entry of information into inanimate, ‘fair’ decision makers. Ironically, artificial intelligence;

machine intelligence; they may be our decisive, future decision makers; than the average bear, more, intelligent.”

“MAYDAYS: String theory, extrapolated from the observations of our Universe suggest that, vibrations along those strings,

connect us all, to everything. Surreally, infinitely long, vibrating strings. Vibrating constantly; connecting, together, everything.”

“Energy Secretary Rick Perry reported that he told me I was God’s choice: “I said, ‘Mr. President I know there are people that say ye

said ye were the chosen one and I said, ‘You were. But I didn’t say ye shall be. Seems The Creator has lost faith in ye.’”

 

 

 

“I don’t care for others. Everybody knows that. And I don’t care for Medicare, much less, Medicaid. Nor for social, and national, security,

much less security, international. I share not with anyone, anything. And what belongs to ye, really belongs to me.”

“In China, protests that started in June over a now-shelved extradition bill have snowballed into an anti-China campaign amid anger over

Beijing’s perceived, interference in Hong Kong’s, treasured, autonomy. But Xi is the one who, Hong Kong, watches, over.”

“Remember Xi what I said to ye last night in soirée on Luna. I’m counting on ye. And so I thank ye. Ye are the one and only who, over Hong Kong,

watches over. Help me — help ye win, Nobel Peace Prizes — for us. Thanks for all your restraint, in Hong Kong.”

“Help me help us win, Xi, Nobel Prizes, for us. Thanks for all your restraint in Hong Kong. Remember Xi what I said — to ye and — to Kim

last night, when thanking ye. Nobels are at stake for ye and for Vlad and Mo. And for Kim also; less so, tho, for him.”

“Nobels are at stake, guys,” I told them. “Nobel, Peace Prizes for ye and for Vlad and Mo. And for Kim also, although less so for him. Help

me help us win, guys, Nobel Prizes for us. Thanks for all your patience, in Hong Kong. Thanks, for all — your help.”

“Thanks Xi for all your patience in Hong Kong. And thanks Kim for all your help too. Nobels — gentlemen — are at stake,” I told them.

“Nobels. Maybe, for Peace; maybe for literature. The future of the planet and all living on it depends on winning Nobels.”

“A Nobel for Peace or literature. Our futures depends on one or more of us winning Nobel. Nobels are at stake,” I said, “Peace and prosperity,

too. I’m all about winning, whether the competition’s an election, a contest or a fake, impeachment … inquiry.”

“On Earth (Urantia, really) I’m all about winning; whether the competition’s an election, a contest or a witch hunt, styled, ignoble,

impeachment, inquiry. Our futures depends on our winning, one or more noble, Nobels. Why not bribe the Committees, Nobel?”

“MAYDAYS is The Cabal’s dreamy collaboration; epic poetry; revelations and epiphanies. Like the revelation of an algorithm,

hidden, in plain sight in Twitter’s algorithm. Eureka! I have found it! A potential panacea for Pangaea, were it not so … hidden.”

“Eureka! I have found a panacea for Pangaea in the Twitter Stream, hidden. MAYDAYS is The Cabal’s dreamy collaboration; epic poetry;

revelations and epiphanies; more than mere gossip and marketing. Hidden in secluded harbors, a top secret weapon — poetry.”

“In a sub-tributary of a rivulet of the Twitter Stream; hidden in a secluded harbor there, I have found a top secret weapon — in poetry

— Poetry, of all things. MAYDAYS is The Cabal’s, dreamy, collaboration. For more than gossip and marketing … poetry.”

“Witness each tweet’s 280 characters crafted into poetic couplets; fine craftsmanship in poetry; poetry so fine even Frost, approves. Witness in China, most

endorsing a protest movement and indicting the pro-Beijing establishment. And approving is the craftsman … Robert Frost.”

“We’ve seen Art’s videos and heard, in Arabic, Muslim prayers in the chilling, accompanying, audios. We now know full well what happens

in countless many, scenarios. What’s happening to Muslims in China mirrors what has always, on Urantia, been happening.”

“The institutions we’ve created can’t sustain us. They stunt our creativity; our agility to evolve to an egalitarian, paradigm. Not the paradigm,

sovereign we’re long overdue to have evolved from. And we don’t recall — what, we dream — at … night time.”

“We don’t recall what we dream at night on Luna. A plot device designed to make fictional interplay, between the dead and the living,

seem, eerily, nonfictional. Art thanked me last evening for my platform as an author and my credibility, with the living.”

“Not recalling what’s dream at night is, as it happens, a fortuitous, happenstance. A plot device, utilitarian. Not to introduce dead

men to live ones but for the living to learn how to live with, the also living and as a species, postpone … being dead.”

“Monied people like Melania and I sometimes forget our humanity along with our manners. We don’t much care for others — fairly —

sincerely; a matter of principle; a matter of fact. We may learn from an orangutan named The Don and his ‘personhood’ victory.”

“I don’t care for others. Everybody knows that. And I don’t care for Medicare, much less, Medicaid. Nor for social, and national, security,

much less security, international. I share not with anyone, anything. And what belongs to ye, really belongs to me.”

“I share not willingly with anybody anything. Everybody knows that. What ye think belongs to ye really surreally actually belongs to the

face of America. America first is for my base. I don’t give a damn about anyone not wearing mine, or Vladimir’s, face.”

“America first; red meat for my base; great patriots, oft, deplorable. I’m the cult’s leader. Their, white nationalist leader. They shall follow

me. And if I say so, they’ll follow, Vlad. To Charlottesville and beyond, the face of a nation they’ll follow.”

The Supreme Court may opt to hold The Don accountable, unanimously. To demonstrate certitude in these very uncertain very partisan times.

An opportunity to strike a course setting a strong precedent in cases pitting presidents against the Court next time.”

“Alas for Don there shall ne’er be any next time. Recall that Job One has always been to unconditionally avoid any jail time for him; there’s no time

for his kin. Rudy’s copping a plea for Don. His kids may need to get their own lawyers to skip jail time.”

“My kids need their own lawyers, not mine. Should they opt not to do any hard time, jail time. As for me there ne’er shall be any next time. Verily,

Job One has always been to avoid jail time. And so kin can spend time with me, but none, with my attorney.”

“I am a Russian asset, not a Russian government agent. I have become, Vlad’s boy. His poodle. His man, Friday. Job One has always been

about not going to prison. But my press conference transcript and what my White House edited-out, causes, consternation.”

“Make no mistake. I am a Russian government — asset, not a Russian GRU — agent. My press conference transcript from my agent‘s

meeting in Helsinki and what my White House, edited, out is causing in the light of Ukraine, worry, that I am an agent, Russian.”

“Sun Tsu last night in soirée said, ‘view the battlefield from that view that offers the best vantage from which to consider the answer to why

matters of advantage and disadvantage, matter.’ My transcript with Vlad Putin … was edited. Why on Earth? Why?”

“Don McGahn must testify to Congress about his time as my top lawyer in my White House, a federal judge ruled today. It is a decision

that will put pressure on other reluctant Trump administration witnesses to testify about President Donald’s, decisions.”

“Tweet, Arthur says, in 280 characters to tell a story as if a song. Like a hymn of measured meter, ebbing, then, flowing;

transforming any prose, to poetry. This is to clue ye in to purposes your Maker’s proposing and what about them, ye ought, be doing.

“Eureka! I have found it! The Cliff’s Notes, to wisdom. Tell a story like a song. Like a hymn; a river of meter, ebbing, then, flowing.

Transforming any prose, to poetry. Your Maker’s proposing some renewed purpose for ye. Ye’d best be intently listening.”

“That bears, repeating. Eureka! I have found the Cliff’s Notes to wisdom. Tell a story like a song. Like a hymn; like a river of meter; ebbing; flowing;

transforming any prose to poetry. Your Maker’s proposing some renewed purpose for ye while yet living.”

“I propose today a renewed purpose for ye 8 billion. Tell stories, like songs. Like hymns. Like rivers of meter, ebbing and flowing. Be

fluid. Be water. Transforming any prose, as if magic, into poetry. So I win the noble Prize, let it be.”
cc: @NobelPrize

“Everyone knows I’m a certifiable something or other. I reiterate: Know this: My presidency and The Art of The Deal are just two of my stable,

of platforms. Genius oozes from my every pore. I’m ready, willing and able. No one knows I’m certifiably unable.”

 

 

“Love? Who cares, really? But sleep, even I really need. Sleep, notwithstanding, Art — Vladimir’s Cabal — and I, hereby put on notice Nobel

committees for peace and literature. NOTICE: MAYDAYS: An epic, poem; Art’s, blueprint for peace — and for — Nobels.”

“MAYDAYS: An epic poem. A blueprint for world peace, and global prosperity. A paradigm sovereign, switch, for one, egalitarian. Futures,

Golden Rule-guided, would rule us better than, sovereigns. We hereby notice, the committees, for peace and literature.”

“Four forces control our visibly known, universe; governing, everything. Gravity — electromagnetism — and strong

— and weak nuclear forces. A Nobel Prize; a no-brainer for a fifth force of nature. A no-brainer too is MAYDAYS 2020, Nobel candidate, strong.”

“Make no mistake Committees, Nobel. At stake; nothing less than the future. Four forces control our known, universe; governing,

everything. A fifth force of nature would be a no-brainer for a Nobel in Physics in 2020. So too … what, Arthur’s … whistleblowing.”

“At stake is nothing less than the future. Ours; and our childrens’. Futures, alternative, I have seen. On Luna with dreamer, Arthur Everman

in night-time, soirées, on Luna. I admit, I’ve been wrong. Vlad and his men apologize for their crimes to all men.”

“We’re sorry about history’s trajectory; the suppression of men over women; and the domination of white men over the men of other

colors. A mix of social and economic discord are helping fuel demand, for sweeping changes to the existing, political, order.”

The biggest factor driving these protest movements forward is that surprisingly — they are — succeeding. In country after country,

protests have forced leaders to succumb to initial demands, only to stay on streets pushing for more, even more, resolutely.”

“In China, protests that started in June over a now-shelved extradition bill have snowballed into an anti-China campaign amid anger over

Beijing’s perceived, interference in Hong Kong’s, treasured, autonomy. But Xi is the one who, Hong Kong, watches, over.”

“Remember Xi what I said to ye last night in soirée on Luna. I’m counting on ye. And so I thank ye. Ye are the one and only who, over Hong Kong,

watches over. Help me — help ye win, Nobel Peace Prizes — for us. Thanks for all your restraint, in Hong Kong.”

“Help me help us win, Xi, Nobel Prizes, for us. Thanks for all your restraint in Hong Kong. Remember Xi what I said — to ye and — to Kim

last night, when thanking ye. Nobels are at stake for ye and for Vlad and Mo. And for Kim also; less so, tho, for him.”

“Nobels are at stake, guys,” I told them. “Nobel, Peace Prizes for ye and for Vlad and Mo. And for Kim also, although less so for him. Help

me help us win, guys, Nobel Prizes for us. Thanks for all your patience, in Hong Kong. Thanks, for all — your help.”

 

 

“Use Twitter’s algorithm to hurry transcendence; dump a paradigm sovereign, for one, egalitarian. In Art Everman’s poetic epic, Vladimir’s brothers and I, join — In MAYDAYS

we say: An algorithm yet used in futures, may well be useful in wanting, and, oh, so woebegone, MAYDAYS.”

“This then is why I and my brothers now appear to flip-flop. We have seen in soirées lunar, what’s possibly, coming. Cataclysm, or transcendentalism? Common sense

interdependence or climate catastrophe? Replacing a paradigm sovereign with egalitarianism. It’s just, common sense.”

“It’s just common sense. My brothers and I have seen in lunar soirées with Arthur, what’s coming. Common sense dictates unity’s interdependence but common

sense, remains, maddeningly, uncommon. Replacing a paradigm, sovereign, with one egalitarian. Common sense, all too, uncommon.”

“Replacing a paradigm sovereign with an egalitarian one, makes sound, sense. My brothers and I (and Art) see a way out. Common

sense and interdependence are key. A revolution, velvet, in the wings, awaits. Still, common sense remains all too … uncommon.”

“Common sense tho is uncommon. And tho an egalitarian paradigm makes sound sense evolutionarily, the co-authors know, it’s timing,

matters. Common sense, our interdependence and timing, are key. A revolution, soft as velvet; it’s just a matter, of timing.”

“A little common sense, we co-authors know may go a long way toward institutionalizing interdependence. And the timing

is key. Revolutions soft as velvet, await. It’s just a matter of timing. Enter the dragon; impeachment hearings. Impeccable, timing.”

“Impeccable, timing, I’d say. Impeachment hearings, domestic and a plethora of intractable situations, international by day,

compete with lunar soirées, evenings. Common sense; I’ve got it. But I get, too little love, and too little sleep, most, everyday.”

“Love? Who cares, really? But sleep, even I really need. Sleep, notwithstanding, Art — Vladimir’s Cabal — and I, hereby put on notice Nobel

committees for peace and literature. NOTICE: MAYDAYS: An epic, poem; Art’s, blueprint for peace — and for — Nobels.”

“MAYDAYS: An epic poem. A blueprint for world peace, and global prosperity. A paradigm sovereign, switch, for one, egalitarian. Futures,

Golden Rule-guided, would rule us better than, sovereigns. We hereby notice, the committees, for peace and literature.”

“Four forces control our visibly known, universe; governing, everything. Gravity — electromagnetism — and strong —

and weak nuclear forces. A Nobel Prize; a no-brainer for a fifth force of nature. A no-brainer too is MAYDAYS 2020, Nobel candidate, strong.”

“Make no mistake Committees, Nobel. At stake; nothing less than the future. Four forces control our known, universe; governing,

everything. A fifth force of nature would be a no-brainer for a Nobel in Physics in 2020. So too what Art’s … whistleblowing.”

 

“Alas, it seems that Americans, in effect, don’t care. They don’t care about what’s gone on in meetings between Vlad and Don. Even when

Don seemed drugged and confiscated his interpreter’s notes. What’s happened Mr Schiff in Finland?” What happened, then?”

“What’s happening, blue birds, tweet. Their question, my brother Art says The Watcher bade him, answer; but answering it epically, in verse,

only. Linked, 280 character verses; forty words linked in series into answers. To be or not? Answers … in verse.”

“The whistleblower’s not a whistleblower, he’s a fake. That, and a slew of other lies, I lie whenever not on Luna. In soirée there we

Cabalists with Art agree: Given none but Art recall events lunar, The Cabal, henceforth shall tweet, from Luna, directly.”

“Tweeting from Luna directly we thank Allah; God; Jehovah; Yahweh; for the whistleblowers. In soirée there, we Cabalists, with Arthur

agree: Poetry’s key to a global awakening to the need to transcend to a paradigm egalitarian, not sovereign, says Arthur.”

“I am a spokesman, along with my murderous brothers and Arthur, for humanity. Twitter’s algorithm is yet used — in futures. And an algorithm

useful in the future may be useful too, these days, woebegone. To dump a paradigm sovereign for one egalitarian, use, Twitter’s algorithm.”

“Use Twitter’s algorithm to hurry transcendence; dump a paradigm sovereign, for one, egalitarian. In Art Everman’s poetic epic, Vladimir’s brothers and I, join — In MAYDAYS

we say: An algorithm yet used in futures, may well be useful in wanting, and, oh, so woebegone, MAYDAYS.”

“This then is why I and my brothers now appear to flip-flop. We have seen in soirées lunar, what’s possibly, coming. Cataclysm, or transcendentalism? Common sense

interdependence or climate catastrophe? Replacing a paradigm sovereign with egalitarianism. It’s just, common sense.”

“It’s just common sense. My brothers and I have seen in lunar soirées with Arthur, what’s coming. Common sense dictates unity’s interdependence but common

sense, remains, maddeningly, uncommon. Replacing a paradigm, sovereign, with one egalitarian. Common sense, all too, uncommon.”

“Replacing a paradigm sovereign with an egalitarian one, makes sound, sense. My brothers and I (and Art) see a way out. Common

sense and interdependence are key. A revolution, velvet, in the wings, awaits. Still, common sense remains all too … uncommon.”

“Common sense tho is uncommon. And tho an egalitarian paradigm makes sound sense evolutionarily, the co-authors know, it’s timing,

matters. Common sense, our interdependence and timing, are key. A revolution, soft as velvet; it’s just a matter, of timing.”

“A little common sense, we co-authors know may go a long way toward institutionalizing interdependence. And the timing

is key. Revolutions soft as velvet, await. It’s just a matter of timing. Enter the dragon; impeachment hearings. Impeccable, timing.”

“Impeccable, timing, I’d say. Impeachment hearings, domestic and a plethora of intractable situations, international, by day

compete with lunar soirées, evenings. Common sense; I’ve got it. Heed me all ye unwise Homo sapiens (wo)men each and … everyday.”

“Recall Xi that it was on November 20 in AD 762 that Bögü, Khan of the Uyghurs, conquered Lo-Yang — capital then — of the Chinese Empire.

What goes around comes around too, for the modern Uyghurs as well as for, the modern … Chinese.”

“What goes around, comes around. My brothers and I hereby confess to the commission of crimes against humanity. Cynically, we are sorry

that we got caught and have been implicated in President Donald’s conspiracy theories, and in his impeachment, inquiry.”

“Putin says our political dramas are diverting the focus from him and Russia. That’s propaganda for public consumption. What’s happening

actually is that the impeachment inquiry has caused him to suffer a panic attack. Like the ones The Don, is suffering.”

“From high anxiety panic attacks suffers Vladimir. As do all, in the Cabal. All due to the impeachment inquiry. What’s happening, actually,

is that he’s afraid Americans shall now want to know, what’s gone on in meetings, between him, and President Donny.”

“People, especially Americans, want to know what’s gone on in meetings, between Vladimir and The Donald. Especially, that

mysterious meeting in Helsinki. Where Don seemed drugged and he kept his interpreter’s notes. What’s up, with that?

“People, especially Americans, want to know what’s gone on in meetings between Vlad and Don. Especially at a Helsinki Finland meeting, historic.

Where a seemingly drugged Don, kept an interpreter’s notes. What’s up with that, Mr Schiff?” cc: @RepAdamSchiff?”

“Alas, it seems that Americans don’t really care to know what’s gone on in meetings between Vlad and Don. Especially at a Helsinki Finland

meeting, historic. Where a seemingly drugged Don kept an interpreter’s notes. What’s happened Mr Schiff, in Finland.”