Party Over Here: Democratic; Party Over There: Republican.  And still I search. If I could only party like it was 1999.  Back then the political divisiveness centered on Bill Clinton’s moral compass and otherwise the Party in the White House was functional, if crippled.  The Republicans were a royal pain just beginning to feel their oats and not yet “Batshit Crazy.”   Meanwhile, the Democrats were “On the March” to the Center and touting it as the “Brave new World.”  Still, in comparison, those were the “Good Times.”

Then along came the 2000 Presidential Election and the infamous Florida ballot “chads.”  The election was stolen by the other party, by the Supreme Court, by the Electoral College or, if you prefer, by all of them.  And then, shortly after Bush took office in January of 2001, America witnessed the senseless death of thousands on 9/11.  In response, our country was hijacked by political leaders and our own countrymen demanding accountability while trampling on our own civil rights and pushing our nation into a series of endless wars against “Terrorism” and even an untold number of “Expeditionary Wars” in places unknown.  In time the major political parties (are there really any other kind!!) went about perfecting the art of “vilification and nullification.” The American citizenry has been left to pull, push, and cajole Congress out of its entrenched “Rip Van Winkle” stupor.  The White House, meanwhile, has been all but abandoned by free thinking people.  It is as if the general public has been frozen out of the political discourse and, in the name of  “National Security” and its first cousin, “Border Security, have been left to die on the vine.

By the time the 2016 election cycle was completed the Republican Party had been bulldozed into submission by a first rate “Bully” that had never as much as held public office.  Not to worry, the Democratic Party had long since lost its luster and any sense of governance.  The old axiom “if you can’t beat them, join them” had borne fruit and had made the Democratic and Republic parties indistinguishable in the eyes of many.  And so, in earnest, I have intensified my personal search for a Party which will take a stand on principle, will represent “We the People” irrespective of the growing income gap, and which will pay homage (and not just lip service) to “Lady Liberty” and “Lady Justice.”  Let us find a Party who’s “Tent” is not so big that its rank and file members have to spend their days playing “Pin the Donkey” and trusting in “Lady Luck” that they can land somewhat near the heart of the Nation.

The recent Mid-Term elections should serve as a wake-up call to our “Major Parties.”  Instead the Republicans are hoping against all odds to keep their ranks in-line and “on-message.”  Their hypnotic mantra assumes that speaking with one voice will preserve their Party, if not the nation.  These ideologues hail from that school of thought which professes – that when all else fails stay on deck and proudly continue playing your instruments – even as the ship sinks.  The Democrats aren’t fairing any better. They have been shamed by the “bullies” and now recoil at the mere mention of “Socialism.”  For a moment there, it had seemed as though the label “Progressive” had regained traction.  Instead, they act as though they have conceded that there is no room on the scales of “Lady Justice” for “Progress” thought.  The bogeyman has entered the Congressional Chambers and it remains to be seen if anybody has the courage to pick up a broom and sweep him out.

Yes, the Democratic Party did make some gains in the recent mid-terms, just as surely as the government furlough accomplished nothing.  And just as quickly as the government forgot about those federal workers on the soup lines, the Democrats are just as eager to move on.   They are barely able to embrace the “Sisterhood” that has infused their ranks with Edgar Allan “Poe-tential” and more.  As of yet they have failed to stop the “Chief Insane One” from poking and ridiculing “Pocahontas” at will.  Meanwhile, the newbies aim high for a fresh round of consensus and even before they can get their messages out they are attacked from within.   When Rep. Omar speaks “Truth to Power” by speaking ill of AIPAC while paraphrasing James Carville’s line “It’s the Economy, Stupid” into “It’s all about the Benjamins, Baby” she is immediately rebuked.  Message to the Fresh(wo)men class” – “Stay in Your Lane.”  Can I truly place much stock in the “New and Improved” Democratic Party? I think not. Rather, I will continue to search for a Party.  And, while I am at it, I’ll bitch about the true absence of a viable “Third Party.”

There are two extremes within which any government may function just as there are two basic functions for any wall.  At one end one could find a closed society run by an autocratic government (think North Korea) and at the opposite end a completely transparent government (example lacking).  Truth is that for all the talk of transparency most of our modern democracies are, at best, marginally transparent.  Not surprisingly, America’s political elites have taken great pains to run campaigns based on the mantra of transparency.  This approach has done much to raise the level of “Hot Air,” but not much more.  Witness the recent, and longest, government shutdown ever.  Now ask yourself whether the government was transparent in conveying its reasons for this drastic measure or simply rammed it down America’s throat.  I am certain you have already concluded that this shutdown over a “Wall” was absolutely necessary to preserve the “Union.”  Not quite.

But, it did raise the existential question about the life of “Walls.” It goes well beyond keeping things out (Brown Folks) or keeping things in (White Folks).  On a personal level walls serve to enclose our habitats from our neighbors in order that we may enjoy privacy while protecting ourselves from the elements.  At a more local level walls can form levees to protect our towns from rising flood waters, serve to keep penal inmates contained, serve to abate highway noise from residential communities, and serve as courts for Handball and other sports.  Yes, long ago, ancient “Walled Cities” such as Jerusalem and Pingyao were built and surrounded by walls as fortification against invading forces.  Today, the wall at Pingyao is but a historical relic for visitors and the wall in Jerusalem was transformed into the “Wailing Wall” used for prayers (best use).   But that was then.

In modern times walls are rarely used for defensive purposes.  More often than not, they are used to condone racial hatred and strengthen ideological divides.  During the Second World War European Jews were pushed into walled “Ghettos” while Hitler implemented the “Final Solution.”  This finally woke the International Community up and as it clamored for transparency it found it necessary to hold war criminal accountable by establishing the first of a kind War Crimes Tribunals.  Allied war crimes in the bombing of Berlin, Tokyo, Hiroshima and Nagasaki were not subjected to the viewfinder of transparency.  The end of the war brought us more walls.  It begat the “Cold War,” which begat the “Berlin Wall,” or as it became known over time – “The Iron Curtain.”  It symbolized the ideological divide between the “Communist East” and the “Capitalist West.”  Today there are 20 complete border barriers functioning with many more currently on the drawing board. Like the barrier walls in the Spanish enclaves of Melilla and Ceuta, in North Africa, most are specifically designed to keep immigrants and smugglers out.  In the case of North Africa the land borders serve as the only land mass separating African immigrants from the European Union.  Sound familiar?

The ongoing lack of transparency by sovereign nations tends to shape world events for decades to come.  Such territorial walls are often disguised, as Trump would have us believe, as necessary to “protect” us from “invaders.”  But the lack of transparency deprives us of the truth and mask hidden agendas.  As further illustration consider the fact that our Southern border has long been a rather porous barrier.  And, this was just how “Agribusiness” and later “Corporate” America liked it.  Our country’s dependence on cheap labor has long benefited our national economy but this factoid continues to be buried in plain sight.  Instead, our leaders, not known for transparency, prefer to confuse us by blaming the so-called “invaders” with taking jobs away from Americans, filling our streets with drugs, and targeting us for crimes. To be transparent would require our leaders to admit more than one hidden truth.  Like, the fact that undocumented immigrants add more and do not subtract from our economy; that the “Messenger,” Gary Webb an investigative journalist, was on to something when he linked the Nicaraguan Contra Rebels to the crack cocaine trade in L.A.; or that a single family, the Sackler family, is considered to have single-handily created the current opioid crisis.  And, how about crime?  Our leaders gloss over reports from the FBI and the Bureau of Justice Statistics showing that the violent crime rate has been falling since the 1990’s.  Need I say more?

Unfortunately, America is stuck with “The Donald,” the one-time unlikely Presidential Candidate, “Master Capitalist,” and unabashed “Nationalist” who insists that a 5.9 billion dollar wall be built in our “National Security Interest.”  He first proposed to build a “Wall” and have Mexico pay for it (a big fat lie).  He then sent the Army in to assist with the capture of mothers and children (a bunch of terrorists) and, being the bully that he is, proceeds to terrorize Americans with a foolish government shutdown.  Why is he afraid of transparency?  Could it be that Americans can count and would rather see that kind of money go into a Universal Health Care plan?  Could it be that he is masking a boondoggle for his friends in the construction trades, or profiting from the birth of a new cottage industry in family detention facilities.

And what about Congress!  Does it really see a “Border Wall” as the best defense against our enemies?  After all, Congress is well-informed that over 90% of the illicit drug trade from Mexico comes through the 71 Border Patrol traffic checkpoints.  Not much a wall is going to do there.  And Congress is also well aware that of the 41 people on our Terrorist Watch List, who have crossed through our manned checkpoints on the Mexican border, 35 have been identified as American citizens or legal residents.  Congress has also expended an extraordinary focus, not to mention money, on transforming Customs and Border Protection into a small army while exhibiting an utter lack of concern over our unprotected Northern border or the ease with which terrorists can cross it.  Now, can anyone please provide me with at least an ounce of transparency?

By: David Rivera, Esq.

Washington, D.C.

January 31, 2019

Of all things Great and Small “American Citizenship” ranks right up there with being a parent or being a true believer in a religious community.  For immigrants obtaining citizenship is akin to “Manna from Heaven.”  There is also a lot of “Good” and “Bad” to be said about our nation’s immigration laws, its enforcement or lack thereof, and the constant cry to “Reform” it.   Yet, if I were an immigrant and received a gift-wrapped box from Congress containing “A Pathway to Citizenship” packet I would seriously have to consider returning it. Not that I am ungrateful, undeserving, or even prone to looking a gift horse in the mouth.  Rather, heeding an old axiom “Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts” I would have to ponder the “Trojan Horse” before me.

First, let me be very clear, within our immigration laws today there already exists a perfectly crafted hierarchical path to citizenship that needs little, if any, tweaking.  Consequently, my initial reaction to a purported gift of “Citizenship” would be to ask myself – what is all this cockamamie business about?  Why, all of a sudden (sort of), is Congress determined to employ a “carrot and stick” approach to our immigration dilemma?  Promising such a loaded remedy knowing full well that it is riddled with unexpected landmines is unconscionable.  I suspect, as should you, that this endeavor is a product of the calculated use of “Coded Language” designed to force undocumented immigrants to play a sophisticated version of “Three-Card Monte.”

You see, under our immigration system, in place since 1952, foreigners have been coming to America either as temporary non-immigrants, intending immigrants, or even as refugees and have found the existing highway, or pathway, to citizenship to be more than adequate.  The journey may have its occasional bumps in the road, and perhaps presents a few potholes here and there, but overall the lighting, the signage, and the on-and-off ramps are well marked and maintained.  Furthermore, the existing pathway, with bumps and all, is devoid of any real or active landmines.  As it stands, building a new and improved “Pathway to Citizenship” is an unacceptable farce which tends to unnecessarily excite and drive the anti-immigrant groups into a feeding frenzy.  In similar fashion it keeps Congress divided and stymies its efforts to place “Immigration Reform” back on track.  As a result, the rest of us are left to ponder whether the “body” has lost its ability to serve.  One thing, however, is certain; the legislative branch lacks the formidable leadership of times past and can barely muster public confidence in the institution.

The hidden reality is that the struggle faced by today’s undocumented immigrants has little to do with finding a “Path to Citizenship.”  Rather the struggle lies in getting their arms around the “Golden Goose” or “Green Card.”  This concept is simple; just consider the all-time favorite American pastime – Baseball.  If you’re on a team and want to score a “Grand Slam” (Citizenship) you must first be on the game roster and be given an opportunity to “come to the plate.”  In immigration terms you make the team by first becoming a “Green Card” holder.  Then, and only then, can you step up to the plate, play ball, and aim for a “Grand Slam.”  The big difference, unlike baseball, is that a Green Card Holder (player) must be an active player for a period of 3 or 5 years before qualifying to score a “Grand Slam.” In all other respects, as with baseball, the rules of the immigration game are already set and known.   As such the game need not be spoiled by a revision of the rules.

Returning to the “Trojan Horse” concept there are legitimate reasons for deep concern.  The administration, acting as a lone wolf, has already begun to redesign the “Pathway to Citizenship” even as Americans continue to wonder when the “Hill” will get to work on its proposals.  While Congress sticks its head in the sand the administration operates under its own dictates.  It has recently responded to the notion that “Fraudulent Citizenship” is as rampant as “Voter Fraud” by establishing a special immigration unit to review the paperwork of thousands of previously certified “Naturalizations.”  The unprecedented goal is to commence denaturalization proceedings to ferret out the culprits.  This initiative smacks of the “Red Scare” tactics of the Joe McCarthy era and the infamous House Un-American Activities Committee.

As if that weren’t enough, the administration revved up the deportation of “Honorably Discharged” veterans.  Many of these veterans were under the false impression (from which they were not dispelled) that their service qualified them for immediate citizenship.  Many of those deported were caught up in a bureaucratic nightmare and not provided a way out of the morass despite their years of dedicated service or their medals.  They are left to find solace at “The Bunker,” a voluntary veterans support house (one of many worldwide), which has been established as a refuge for “deported veterans” in Tijuana, Mexico.  There is a poignant irony in the fact that should they die abroad their bodies can be transported to the States for military burial but many will not be able to return before then.  It is in this climate that we, Americans, are asked to open our arms to the “Trojan Horse” bearing a new “Pathway to Citizenship.”

David Rivera, Esq.

Washington, D.C.

08/18/2018

“My Vote and I” have maintained a special and rather personal bond for almost a half century now.  It could be said that I came of “Age” with the “Vote” for I was merely 18 years old when the 26^th Amendment lowering the voting age from 21 to 18 was ratified by the States and thus enacted as part of our Constitution on July 1, 1971.  I was truly a child of the ‘60’s and along with many others fought through protest marches and other political activism to win my  “Right to Vote” before I turned 21 years of age. Back then the argument was simple, we wanted to Vote.  More importantly, we quite honestly felt that we deserved to “Vote.”  Our reasoning was that if we at the age of eighteen were old enough to go way over to Vietnam and die for “Old Glory” surely we could be entrusted with such an important “Franchise.”  In the chants of the movement it was “Hell No – If We Can’t Vote – We Won’t Go.”  Clear enough.

And no sooner had I stepped off the stage to claim my High School Diploma then I was recognized to be old enough to Vote.  As a young man I recognized this as a seminal “Rite of Passage” and one to be taken seriously.  After all – we did ask for it!  Thus, having then and there become a full-fledged citizen I would go to the “Polling Booth” for the first time on the exact day of my twentieth birthday, and have gone on voting ever since without missing a single election.  My “Vote” was not tied to the war as I would soon reflect and come to appreciate.  Instead, my “Vote” was, and remains, tied to my being a citizen and exercising my civic responsibility to participate in my very own democracy.  By participating in our democracy I feel deeply that “My Vote and I” have earned the privilege of  complain about America’s current “State of Affairs.”  And I take a back seat to no one, and will be rather vocal, when an election is threatened with being stolen.  “My Vote and I” stand as one when it comes to demanding my place in society.

“My Vote” is way too precious a “Right” for me to ignore, or for you to treat lightly or derisively, and it is most certainly too dear to allow anyone to take away from us. Not by our elected representatives with their penchant for gerrymandering.  Not by those self-appointed protectors of the “Franchise” who insist that I must “properly” identify myself (in whatever manner they deem fit) based soley on a concocted notion that “Voter Fraud” is our # 1 national crisis as opposed to Universal Health Care.  It would not surprise me to learn that these same folks are oblivious to the all too real threat of Russian meddling in our “Franchise.”  To this latter bunch I extend a personal invitation to press their lips against my Tush.  In addition “Voter Suppression” efforts, including depriving convicted felons from our “Franchise” and hence from participating in our democracy, are as sound public policies as permitting the “Electoral College” to “TRUMP” the popular vote.  We should instead be encouraging more of our citizens to stop being lazy and get up and “Vote.”  Our democracy and our future depend on us, as citizens, being faithful to our “Franchise.”

On top of all the cockamamie ideas on how to dilute the power of “My Vote and I” it is suggested that I accept as my friends the 12 Russian Generals and their dictator who have been indicted and invited, respectively, to sit beforea jury and to walk all over us.  All the while our government turns its back on the historical compassion exhibited towards our immigrant forbearers and sees not a thing wrong with forcibly separating children from their mothers.  With nonsense like this taking place under our very watch now, more than ever, American citizens need to Stand and be Counted.  The best way to accomplish this is to protect our “Voting Franchise” from our enemies, be they foreign or domestic. I, for one, am not prepared to surrender my “Vote.,” Are you?

E

In this era of Messrs. Trump and Sessions, when America has arrived at where it has purposely been driven, I find myself grateful for a gentle reminder provided me recently.  “Keep the Faith” was the simple, and at the same time complex, message my friend left me with.

Faith I am rediscovering is truly a Christian value and much more.  In these times we can ill afford to lose sight of its transformative nature.  Were we to lose our “Faith” we might lose our way in the wilderness and forfeit the victory which is ours. As we prepare for the “Battle” that lies ahead we must therefore take stock of the condition of our spiritual and corporeal armor and be at one with the teachings of the “Gospels.”  Only then will we be worthy witnesses of God’s love and be fortified to “Stand Our  Ground” and “Keep the Faith.”

We must stand together as witnesses.  Just like David “Stood his Ground” before Goliath we can stand our ground.  We can “Stand Our Ground” uncompromisingly like Muhammad Ali did before the Selective Service Board.  We could hold fast to our faith as the Israelites under the command of Joshua “Kept the Faith” while circling the City of Jericho for seven days until the walls came down as God promised.  We can “Keep the Faith” like Harriet Tubman boldly returning to the South 19 times to escort 300 slaves to freedom knowing that God was with her every inch of the way.

We can stand with Kaepernick or kneel as it pleases us and the Good Lord.  We can March on Washington for the Poor Peoples March for Moral Revival without pledging allegiance to “Old Glory,” without singing the racially-tinged stanzas of the National Anthem, and without having to bow before the false prophet that is our President.

We can stand with the children separated from their mothers by an administrative policy of “Zero-Tolerance” issued by the Pharaoh Sessions. We can stand with the children being blown away by bullets at their schools while a former soldier and drug-trafficker takes over the helm at the NRA and continues to sell America a “Bill of Goods.”

We can stand with the families of those dying from opiate overdoses or suffering opiate addiction in a society that has allowed the Pharmaceuticals to run roughshod over “We The People.”

We must Stand, Kneel, and Pray until the “Glory” comes. We must “Kick and Shout” from every mole hill or mountain top until the Jericho Wall falls. Remaining silent or subservient is not an option.  The Good Lord helps those who help themselves and “Keep the Faith.”  And, we can “Keep the Faith” that the money-changers and the Corporate elite milking America for profit by building private jails to house the rest of us will in the end be thrown out of the Temple by the Lord of all Lords.  This is our “Faith” and this is our “Fight Song” – “Keep the Faith.”  .

I was surprised to get her call.  I had been thinking about her quite a bit since our last encounter.  The pain of which was still to be heard in my own voice. “Lady Liberty” picked up on this and immediately tried to put me at ease.  She said “look at it this way, now you’ll have another reason to visit France.”  I just couldn’t argue with her on that account. Still she knew she had barely won a concession from me.  So, in my passable French I asked “Que me vaut la joie de votre appel?  That was when she started to share her thoughts with me.

In a now raspy voice she noted that she was preing to give her formal “Adieu” to this precious land which she had long called her adopted country. At first she wondered if she needed to make a “Formal Address” before a joint session of Congress or meet personally with our President (ugh”).  I dissuaded her from meeting with the fool in the Oval Office by explaining that he was more likely to make an embarrassing spectacle of the whole affair, as if it wasn’t already.  “The Lady” was quick to add that she would not feel right in turning her departure into an International Fiasco.  I could hardly believe the amount of dignity she was displaying before me. It was difficult for me to comprehend but she was as calm as Ariel in Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” after being set free by Prospero.  I should have known she could carry herself in regal fashion for she had openly received the detritus of the “Tempest-Tossed” with grace for over a century.

Still, being the New Yorker that I am, I gently scolded her by letting her know that if ever there was a reason to make her a “Cause Célèbre” this would have to be it.  Pushing the very symbol of “Freedom” and “Liberty” out to Sea and making her swim for her very life was as despicable an act as General Benedict Arnold’s defection from the Continental Army.  Before I could control myself, I heard myself exclaiming Nina Simone’s refrain “Mississippi Goddamn.”  “Lady Liberty” just gave me a “Big Hug” and simply said “Thank You.”

After she calmed me down we discussed the feasibility of her addressing Congress and quickly agreed that there was just no point in putting on a “Dog and Pony” show that would fall on deaf ears.  A bunch of politically astute hypocrites would just gather around her for the celebrity photo op while paying lip service to her cry for help.  To my surprise, she agreed that the body as a whole barely cares about immigrants. For over a decade or more Congress has allowed itself to be paralyzed by two-bit hustlers all too willing to surrender power to the neo-cons and allow the “White Nativist Foxes” to take over and guard the “Immigration Hen House.”  Talk about leading the lambs to their slaughter!

The question remains, is there any member of the House or Senate who has the “Audacity of Hope” to stand-up against the racist anti-immigrant fear-mongers who will destroy our cherished land and gladly melt “Lady Liberty” for scrap metal. Is it then any wonder that “The Lady” has to go into “self-imposed” exile before it is too late?

Now, it was “Lady Liberty’s” turn to scold me and have me focus on the topic at hand, saying Adieu.  After a few moments we came up with a solution that was under our very eyes. “Lady Liberty” would spend the next month saying good-bye to all the tourists and “We the People” gathered daily at Castle Clinton to purchase tickets to see her on her pedestal on Liberty Island.  She would spend the Fourth of July weekend as a special guest of the Mayor and attended the fireworks celebration for the last time. ““Lady Liberty” then plans to arrive in France in time for the annual Bastille Day celebrations. We decided to meet again soon to start the final preparations. And then she asked if I would join her for Sunday Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

To PM:

Yo PM, I could complain that it sure took you like forever to write me a note but then, to tell you the truth, I never expected to hear from you again.  Not to mention that I should be happy to be hearing from you because, well, not many letters get delivered around these here parts. All my buddies wanted to read it.

I have quite a few expletives to shower you with but I can’t.  I am still here in “Purgatory” and already have a lot of explating to do.  I know what you’re thinking, but take it from me, that is a real word and not just more of my ebonics.  You see, it’s true; it is never too late to learn.

Wow, you are so right PM; I died way too young at 24, thanks for reminding me! And it wasn’t in Needle Park it was Cherry Street  Park. Other than more heartache what have I truly missed? I hear whispers that niggers are still dying on the streets from drugs and the “Man’s” Blue Bullet. Is it true?  Don’t they tire of singing Marvin’s hit – “What’s Going On?” Tell you the truth; I can’t rightly say which is worse the bullet or the needle. I think Kenny Rogers said it best when he sang “the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep.”

And what about that Black President from Hawaii. What’s his name – Don Ho? Really, I can’t believe a brother with an African name could even run for office. How white could a black man get?  Did he sell out his people like that chump Clarence did? Was the brother universally accepted like Gandhi was? More importantly, did he make a real difference, or did they put him in check? I hope not.  Yeah that got to be something, but Pusher Man I really don’t think I have missed out on anything. Not really. From what I can see, it is still a “Ball of Confusion” out there.

Yo Push, get this. I can’t for the life of me (pun intended) cry a single tear for you.  You ruined my life and that of my community. And now just because the “Man” relabeled the “Monkey On Your Back” as a bona fide disease you want to ride his coat-tail one more time and get me to accept your apology. Give me a break. I have heard a lot of bull in this here Purgatory but your phony lament tops the cake.  You got what you deserved; killing a junkie is still a crime in God’s eye.

I hope to be out of here by the time you get to visit Purgatory, but don’t stop writing.  The closer I get to leaving here the closer I will be to forgiving you.  God Help Me. That’s right when the Glory comes I hope to be straight and proper. One final piece of advice try and be a bit more contrite and start counting your blessings.  You could have been me, hooked on your own bad shit.  When you come here bring some sweets, will ya.  Thanks and I’ll catch you later.

From:  Your Pusher Man

Freddy’s Dead, that’s what I said back then as I PUSHED on.  Selling smack was my thing, making money for the MAN.  You died in Needle Park on a shared dime bag out of ‘Nam. The real good shit back in the day.

Freddy you died too young, I hope you know that. But at least that cat Curtis sang a bad-ass Ode to you.  As for me, shit, I am doing hard time for offing some chump trying to snag my stash.  I did him proper. Nobody does hard time for killing a junkie but the damn fool was connected and here I sit.

Freddy get this.  Times have truly changed.  I mean the Crackers have lost their Chinese minds.   Did you know you died from a disease and not that bad habit of yours?  Seems you were not at fault, and for that matter, neither was I. And check this out. Today the fuzz will help you out rather than leave you to die. If the White Horse throws you off and you begin to overdose – “Don’t Worry Be Happy.”. The Man in Blue, God Bless him, here to serve and protect, will just give you a bump of NARCAN, and brother, you be back in business. WTF? We call that a Pusher’s full employment bill.  Hallelujah – Let me back out on the block.  Talk about making Mullah.

Yeah Bro, I’m missing the point.  “White Lives Matter.”  It’s not just the poor pretty white suburban children who need our help.  There are an untold number of Hedge-Fund Managers running Pharmaceuticals (Drug Shops) who can’t afford junkies dying on them.  These corporate whores need our protection. That is to safeguard their profit margins.  Of course their White, nigger! Pushers like me, well Freddy let’s just say that’s why your dead.

As usual, the hot shots are protected by Politicians and Generals who will never see the inside of my crib, brotherman.  They’re connected and always import that real good shit to begin with. Freddy, let me tell you, there was this outfit called the Taliban in Afghanistan, real honest to God Warlords. These mothers had the guts to cut-off the H supply at its source.  My Muslim Brothers here insist that this was the real reason for “Uncle Sam” invading them. And they have a point when you realize that during the U.S. Army occupation that followed the Poppies came back in full swing and made it all the way to our front door.

And the “Pretty Niggers” on my cell block remind me every day that the Man killed the Messenger (not Elijah).  Rather they burned that reporter from the Mercury News real bad and he went ahead and killed himself. All he did was to expose the government’s involvement in bringing crack to South L.A. But, shit we knew that already. Like we really run all those Drug Cartels!  Hell, you’ve heard of Oil Cartels and Diamond Cartels, any brothers running those outfits?  Exactly, Freddy, not going to happen.

Oh yeah, Freddy, don’t be fooled by our Amigo in the Philippines.  He goes around killing those poor souls who have a terrible disease, no NARCAN for them. You can bet your bottom dollar nobody cares didley squat for those Brown brothers.  Meanwhile the dude is just masking his lucrative drug profits.  All that skag from the Golden Triangle has to pass through somewhere. And he is not alone.  Our main man, Twitterman, promises to bring back the Death Penalty, for the likes of me. Bull.

Like the real culprits in this nasty business, he and probably his Russian associates, would ever be penalized for their actions. It jus’ be us facing the Death Penalty. They must think we are dumb.  They’re going to save junkies from themselves, empower Wall Street to make Boo Koo Bucks, and then go around killing-off their prime suppliers.  Yeah right, and I was born yesterday.  Like I said Freddy, times have changed, but not really that much.

1. In deposing “The Most-On-High,” the “Lord of Lords” and “Becoming God” himself  Jefferson Beauregard Sessions’ Tap Dance masks his mistaken believes that as a modern day Mystic the  admonition of the First Commandment – Thou Shall Not Have No Other God Before Me – does not apply to him.
2. Not perturbed by semantics and energized by his elevated position Sessions desires to be Crowned the latest “American Idol” and strangely picks “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” as his dance tune and unabashedly gave it the imprimatur of a remake of the   Second Commandment.”
3. Feeling rather satisfied and properly venerated by the proclamations of “In God We Trust,” being echoed throughout the “Great Hall” at Justice Sessions demanded that his underlings join him in a “Blame the Vain” Line Dance as he continues to poke fun at the Lord’s Third Commandment.
4. Having won over the folks at Justice Session chose to celebrate the Sabbath with fellow Klansmen and addressing the faithful he implores them to abide by the Fourth Commandment by doing the “Confederate Victory Dance and keeping the memory of Pres. Jefferson Davis, after whom his bloodline was named,  Holy.
5. Sessions in yet another false session of Congress insisted that he has kept to the covenant of the Fifth Commandment to Honor his parents.  Under Oath (presumably unto himself) he testified that his parents would indeed be Honored by his steadfast claims of not being a racist and that this was nothing but the Gospel Truth.
6. Sessions, by omission if not commission, has also violated the Sixth Commandment – Thou  Shall Not Murder – by failing to give credence to “The Black Lives Matter” movement’s cry to put an end to senseless killings.`
7. Unable to Fear Himself, Sessions has managed to keep but only one Commandment,  the Seventh Commandment – Thou Shall Not Commit Adultery –  because even the Gods will not test the limits of the old axiom that “Hell Has No Fury Like a Woman Scorned.”
8. The Eight Commandment – Thou Shall Not Steal – holds no sway over Sessions when it            comes to stealing elections as he has gone out on a limb to prosecute Voting Rights organizers on Voter Fraud charges, albeit, unsuccessfully, in order to conceal his thievery.
9.  The Ninth Commandment forbids the bearing of false witness which Sessions has repeatedly              engaged in in his several appearances before Congress, and before the American people, most notably in the recent Russian affair and in the past when he quipped that “the ACLU and the NAACP were communist inspired.”
10. Sessions has also failed to adhered to the admonition of the Tenth Commandment against coveting they neighbor’s house, property and things as he whole heartily supports the Civil Asset Forfeiture laws which have been routinely employed by Federal, State, and Local governments to deprive citizens of their real and personal property irrespective of whether they have been     convicted of a crime.

As for me, like Luther Vandross, I will wait to “Dance With My Father,” the Lord of Lords, once again.

At first glance I could not believe my eyes.  I had not expected to encounter a soul on my pre-dawn Sunday stroll through Battery Park.  I had enjoyed this park since my early childhood when I peered through the bars at the interior of Castle Clinton and allowed it to take over my imagination.  I fondly recall walking over to the edge and staring at her for long periods as I contemplated taking a nickel ride out on the Staten Island Ferry to catch a closer glimpse. This tended to be a delicate decision in as much as I would have already exceeded the territorial limits of my bike ride as established by my parents.

Here she was in person, “Lady Liberty,” sans her pedestal and looking very sad and downtrodden.  She was carrying her famous torch in her right hand although she could have easily stored it in the traveling trunk she had with her.  I was, to say the least, taken aback by her look of utter despair and recognizing that “The Lady” needed a little space I shifted my glance ever so slightly.  Just then I caught a closer look at her travel trunk.  It had but one solitary tourist sticker from the “Big Apple” and a large faded Yellow banner printed in both French and English indicating that she had been “Expedie De France” or “Shipped  From France.”  From this I gleaned the obvious; she was not well-traveled but was clearly in travel mode.

Hiding back a few tears I heard myself utter aloud “What is going on here!” and asking “Where are you going?”  My friend, she responded, as she beckoned me to take a seat on a nearby park bench.  I remember you from your childhood Ferry Rides, how have you been?  As she sat for a spell she said:  Allow me to venture to explain myself.  At the ripe old age of 132 years I simply can no longer allow myself to be subjected to all this insane vitriol that is being heaped at me and my immigrant charges. Strangely enough, having been sent here as an “Apostle for Freedom,” hence my true and complete name of “Liberty Enlightening The World,” I find myself being persecuted and treated as just another unwanted refugee of the world.

Is it any wonder, given my honored social status in this country, that I would take a deep and personal offense to my treatment of late and be extremely pained by all this tomfoolery? As I struggle to find a “Safe Passage” to a new land I pause to wonder about my future.  Will I find a home that will welcome me as a refugee, as I have done for others for so many years?  Will I be respected as an “Elder,” and more importantly, will I ever again be allowed to take my rightful place as a “Beacon for Freedom?”

Wait a second, I said, don’t talk like that. You are not a refugee. You are not even an immigrant.  You are an irreplaceable symbol of our nation. “Lady Liberty” you have both literally and figuratively stood up your entire life proclaiming the greatness that is America. In fact, under no scenario could America ever be great without you.  And don’t forget for one minute that as a “Native New Yorker” you have the privilege of pronouncing like “Joltin’ Joe” liked to do – “thank the good Lord for making me a Yankee.”

Now that you mention it, sad but true, but I am not an American citizen. As unlikely as it sounds, either no one ever saw a need to bestow the Honor on me, or like you they simply assumed I was born here. And as for me, I was already recognized world-wide as a “Beacon of Freedom” and it doesn’t get any better than. I suppose I always saw myself as a true American and never saw no need to Naturalize.  No, say it ain’t so, I retorted.  You simply have to be an American, especially after 132 years.  It is the only thing that guarantees that no one, not even the haters with all their vitriol, could kick you out.

Oh my friend, if only that were true! Truth be told, America has a sordid history of pushing out full-fledged American citizens.  In the early 1800’s, before my arrival, many “Free Blacks” were shipped back to “Mother Africa.” And during the “Great Depression” our “Uncle Sam” forcibly repatriated well in excess of 400,000 Mexicans, the vast majority of whom were American citizens. America would repeat this odd tendency during World War II when it turned on Japanese-Americas, Italian-Americas, and German-Americans by either chasing them out or interning them in relocation camps. Let’s not forget the many young American men, better known as “Draft Dodgers,” who were forced into exile in Canada during the Vietnam War era.  Believe me when I tell you, I’d rather leave of my own accord then to wait and see my detractors rip the skin right off of me.  Lee Iacocca would never forgive them and neither would I.

OK, “Lady Liberty” you have certainly made a strong point there and there is no denying history, if one is aware of it.  Nevertheless, who in their “right mind” would want to see you go?  My friend, there you go again, being so naïve.  For starters, there are the many dubious leaders and politicians itching to kick all us immigrants out.  And of course we will always have the plain variety of dumb bigots stirring things up.  We also have the crazy “White Supremacists” and their ilk swearing allegiance to fascism.  And, surprisingly for a nation of immigrants, there is a pitiful bunch of lawful immigrants and issue of former immigrants who have joined ranks with the haters and view our current undocumented population and our refugees as the new enemy. These folks do not now, nor ever have been, accused of being of sound mind and reason. Nevertheless, they go around practicing onanism while claiming to be making America ‘Great Again.” Give me a break!

I don’t get it.  If that is how you feel, why then would you leave? Oh, it’s rather simple really.  There is a tipping point and we have now reached it. It is rather telling when our immigration agency finds it necessary to amend its “Mission Statement” solely to delete the phrase that “We Are a Nation of Immigrants.”  There is also a movement afoot to discredit Emma Lazarus’ poem “The New Colossus” by disassociating its words – “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free” -from my very raison d’etre. My friend, that is a real kick – in the – well, you know where. I am compelled to pack my traveling trunk with the plaque inscribed with Emma’s poem, my personal copy of the U.S. Constitution, a copy of Alexis de Tocqueville’s book “Democracy in America, and the official list of the fine American donors who rose over $500 million dollars for my 1986 restoration.  I just have to leave in order to preserve myself for future generations, she said, as tears ran down her cheeks. And just then, I began to sob with her.