In Book Two of the Whither We Tend series, we envision what the world would be like without Lake Powell. But in real life, the lake is drawing down fast due to environmental change. Have a look!
if you would like to purchase the ebook version of Whither We Tend, it is available at
https://amzn.to/2LMPL4b
#lakepowell #Utah #Thechartedlfie #captchristophergerman #whitherwetend
Friday, February 12, 2021
Friday, January 22, 2021
Whither We Tend: Chapter 1
Chapter One
“The restoration of American Democracy is complete. The United States Army has secured all the territories that displayed acts of rebellion following the recall of the presidential electors from the 2020 Presidential race. As such, President Franklin Crawford is asking all volunteers to register in person with their local Patriotic Unity Station at their earliest convenience. There, those seeking to support the cause of restoring services to the affected areas will be assigned a volunteer service. For more information or to find your local station, please go to www.AmericanStatesUnited.gov”
He read the email with a sense of incredulity. “How did we get here? What does this all mean now?” he asked himself. Ever since the rebellion started, strange emails and texts similar to this would show up regularly on his phone. He wondered why we needed a “restoration” when, supposedly, we never lost the Nation.
It had been three years since the emergency election, and Simon was getting tired of the mixed messages he read constantly. One day, the “Rebellion” was just a rumor and a bad hoax, while the next it was going to be the undoing of our American way of life.
It was just like the covid pandemic: One day it was a hoax. The next day we were all going to die. He had no idea what to think, and he hated feeling as though he could no longer trust his judgment. Where was the truth, he wondered.
The general election was just the start of it. The protest and scuffles at the Million MAGA march should have been the first sign of trouble. No one confirmed how many known seditionists were in attendance or how many were actively tracked by the FBI. When they stormed the Capitol Building, they finally started arresting extremists individuals, but no individual or group was ever identified as the leader or organizer. The blame was laid solely on President Donald Herzog and his cronies.
Despite their rhetoric, it seemed that no one took any real notice or considered the white demonstrations a threat to national security until they bombed the bank buildings in Tampa. Oh sure, they rolled out the National Guard for every black lives matter protest and every announcement that yet another cop wouldn’t be charged for killing yet another black man. For the seditionists however, it was hands-off, until something big happened.
For an advance look at the rest of the chapter and to buy an advance copy for just $5, go to my Patreon page at That Sailing Guy
Monday, December 14, 2020
Wither We Tend Preface: Christmas in America 2020
Christmas with the Major
The terminal was empty except for the half dozen passengers who were arriving from BWI. Gus was just getting back from a job in Fallujah and he wondered where the other four passengers were coming from. They all looked like government employees of some sort, except for the one, an Army private who was in utilities. He, no doubt, was on leave and coming home for Christmas.
Although he had no way of knowing for sure, Gus was certain that no one else on this flight had to fly home on Christmas eve for a funeral.
He got the message while he was on duty on Monday and was on a plane home by Wednesday. He was tired from the flight, first through Frankfurt, then over to BWI and now into Bradley. Her wake was happening right now and he wanted to be there but he realized he still had to rent a car and make it down to New Haven by 6PM. He looked at his watch, 12:24. It was still on Fallujah time, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to make a 6PM closing time.
He figured her parents were probably there, maybe some friends from College and of course, the theater. None of her people had anything good to say about him in the good times and they probably were cursing his name right now, for not showing up to her wake. “They were divorced” her mother would say, “But at least he could have showed up for her wake”.
Her mother had a soft spot for her eldest daughter. Gus knew how they must have felt when Melissa told her Mom that he had left her.
Melissa. Just thinking of the name gave him knots in his stomach. Knots from anger, knots from heart ache and knots of regret.
Maybe, if he hadn’t left her, she would still be alive? She’d probably have hepatitis from drinking so much, or the early stages of lung cancer, but she’d be alive just the same. Maybe if her mother had not placated her little girl , giving her the top notch ivy league schooling and the BMW for her sweet sixteen? Maybe if she had worked an honest job, like medicine, instead of being an actress, she would have had the strength to overcome her addictions and be a grown up.
He remembered when she was turned down for the role in Wicked. She said that her career was over and that she was washed up as an actress. He tried to tell her that she could play all sorts of other roles or write or direct, but if she wasn’t the lead, she wanted none of it.
That was when the drinking got bad. A year and half of boxed wine and antidepressants took their toll on her body and their marriage. When he came home from his last mission before they separated, he found her sitting on the couch crying at 1PM in the afternoon, a full glass of blush and a half empty bottle of Xanax on the coffee table. The pile of empty boxes on the back deck made him shake his head. They weren’t there when he left the week before
He tried to get her help. He called her mother and told her what he found when he got home. She once again made excuses for her daughter, “she’s learning how to live life without the theater” she said.
He went to the al anon meetings with her and drove her to her therapy appointments. She sat in silence at the 10-step meetings and managed to wrap her therapist around her finger the way she did everyone else. He was an easy target, a pill pushing quack in Milford who had seen her in Mama Mia in 2007. He loved the fact that he had a Broadway star as a client.
The last time he drove her home from hospital, he knew that was the last time he would see her. The divorce had been final for a year, but he was still the emergency contact on her medical forms at St. Raphael's. Her lips were stained from charcoal and the doctor said that her liver function indicated the early stages of liver disease.
“What the hell are you doing to yourself?” he asked, “You're not going to see 40 if you don't quit drinking”.
He could see the black stains between her teeth when she spoke, ”It wasn’t my fault, Julie and Sandra came up from the city and we met for a drink downtown. They forced me to take a shot and after that I blacked out”.
“You don't remember wandering downtown with a bottle of 151, singing the entire score from “The Sound of Music”? When the cops picked you up, you were halfway though your fourth rendition of “Something About Maria”, on the stairs of the Yale Art Gallery wearing only a bra.” Gus said.
She began to cry, “Since you left me, I am lost Gus. I feel so alone”
“Don’t try that crying shit with me Mel, we’ve don't this too many times. Why the fuck did you have them call me? When are you going to change your emergency contact to your parents, or Julie, or to Sandra, or anyone else other than me?” he said.
“I meant to have them call My Mom, but your number was already in the file and they just called. I’m sorry I bothered you.”, she said, rolling her eyes.
“You are bothering me. Your killing yourself and that bothers the hell out of me. If you could take this the least bit serious, you’d see that is why we got divorced. That is why you were cut from the show and this is why you aren’t working anymore”. Said Gus.
The car slowed at the light and she took her opportunity to say, “Fuck you Gus,” and got out.
He drove slowly behind her as she walked away, yelling to her, “Get in Melissa. It’s freezing out and you have no clothes on. Let me take you home.”
“No asshole! I don’t need you. I’m fine” she screamed back.
The police cruiser pulled up behind Gus and squawked the siren. The officer said on the PA, “Are you OK sweetheart?” She turned and flipped the cop the middle finger.
Gus loved the look in her eye when she was being defiant and laughed when the cop ordered him to pull over.
He stopped the car and rolled down the window, as he watched Mellissa shiver and walk down the sidewalk.
The officer got out of his car and walked up alongside Gus on the drivers side and said, “Relationship problems sir?”
“No officer, I'm divorced. She is my ex and just got her stomach pumped at St. Raph’s. I'm trying to drive her home, but you’re more than welcome to take over. I believe she was your guest last night as well”.
“Oh, you and she have history?” asked the Cop.
“To be honest sir, I think now she has more history with you guys than me” said Gus.
“Why don't you just get her in your car and get home, she looks like she had a rough night” said the Officer.
Gus was sick of this conversation and said, “That was what I was trying to do before you pulled me over, jerk off?”
The officer ordered Gus out of the car and he watched her turn the corner and walk out of his life.
When he got the message that she was dead, he wondered if that cop knew that he was partially responsible.
The voice mail came from her friend Sandra. In it, she said that Melissa had left a note saying that her life meant nothing and that the worst mistake she ever made was losing Gus. She downed a bottle of oxy with a bottle of Everclear and was found floating face down naked in her tub by the police doing a wellness check. Her mother asked the cops to do a wellness check when Melissa didn’t answer her phone for three days.
Now that he was back stateside, and back in Connecticut, he felt alone knowing that she was no longer there and that he couldn’t call her. He hopped on the car shuttle and stared out the window as he watched the sunset. The only trouble he had getting to the car was when an old woman yelled at him for not wearing a mask. She said, “The vaccine isn’t here yet asshole, you still have to wear a mask!”
He threw his duffel in the back seat and ripped his mask off as soon as he got in the driver's seat. He looked at his watch and it said 12:47. If he hurried, he could make it to the wake.
He sped down I-91 and got to the funeral home on State Street, fifteen minutes before the close of viewing hours. He walked in and saw Melissa laying in a casket and her mother weeping with her father’s arm around her back. Sandra and Julie huddled in a corner talking softly beneath masks. A half dozen other people Gus didn’t recognize, with masks on, sat in the folding chairs around the room.
The emptiness of the room depressed him. This was the woman he loved and she was leaving this world as lonely as she was when she lived in it. Sandra walked to him as he walked in.
“Hey Gus, did you have a good flight?” Sandra asked.
Julie turned her back on him and several of the faces turned to look at him.
“Yeah I did. It took two days, but I made it. Sorry I’m late” Gus said.
“It’s ok, you made it”, she said.
Gus didn’t like most of Melissa’s friends, but Sandra could be decent from time to time he thought.
“Hey thanks for letting me know”, said Gus, “I can’t believe she’s dead.”
“She was so lonely and lost, '' said Sandra, “I tried to help but there was no reaching her”.
Gus said, “may I go see her?”
“Sure please do”, said Sandra as she motioned towards the casket in the front of the room.
Gus walked slowly towards the open casket. He could see the makeup that they put on her face covered her beautiful cheeks and skin. Her hair was stiff and unnatural and he guessed it smelled of hairspray. She looked asleep. He touched her hand and it was cold. A sprig of pine was tucked in her pale fingers to remind everyone that she killed herself at Christmas.
Her mother walked up, wiping the tears from her eyes and said, “You're late. She's gone.”
“Yes I know”, said Gus, “She left us too early.”
“You know you did this to her” her mother said.
Gus waited for someone to come fetch this bereaved woman, but no one did. He didn’t want to answer her.
“You’re the reason she is dead. You’re the reason my daughter is gone”, she said.
Gus said, “I know” and walked toward the door.
He attended the funeral on Christmas day and stood well away from the sparse crowd, behind a tree that stood next to a marker that read “Rose Marie Santiello July 4, 1962 - September 7, 2001”. They sang Amazing Grace and Sandra spoke of her days on the stage and her love of horses. She made no mention of her marriage to Gus.
When it was over the family all climbed in cars and drove away. No one spoke to Gus and he made no effort to speak to them.
He got in his car and drove back to the car rental place at Bradley, this time ensuring to have his mask on. He sat in the terminal when he got through security and waited for two hours until his flight began boarding.
He watched news about the newly approved vaccine and the violence from protests between the Proud Boys and Black Lives Matter activists in Washington D.C. He read an article in Newsweek about the effort to exclude the 106 members of congress because of their support for the Texas lawsuit attempting to overturn the election. Then he watched the end of a Spanish version of “It's A Wonderful Life”, wishing the airport bar was open.
An older man sat two seats down from him and started a conversation, “Don’t you just love traveling on Christmas?”
Gus said, “I dunno I just buried my wife, think I would rather not travel today.”
“Oh Christ that’s hard. Was it Covid?” the old man asked.
“Nah, she ate a bottle of pills and drowned in her bathtub naked” said Gus.
The old man bit his bottom lip and looked at the floor. He looked up and said, “I'm sorry for your loss sir”.
Gus thought for a moment and said, “The world lost something in her, I'm sorry for your loss sir”.
Before the old man could say anything else, the announcement came to start boarding. Gus gathered his bag and pulled his boarding pass from his pocket. He stopped to look at the setting sun across the tarmac and boarded the plane for DC. By New year’s Eve, life was back to normal and he was standing guard at his post in Fallujah, humming “Auld Lang Syne”
_________________________________________________________________
Simon opened the bottle of Browne and poured two glasses. The sound of Christmas music playing in the living room and the golden color of the setting afternoon sun, made it seem like Christmas, even if the usual crowd wasn’t coming this year.
His parents were isolating in Palm Springs and Sarah’s parents were staying home on the Eastern Shore. Every year since they were married, they had either gone to Maryland or Florida, but this year they were staying home in Stratford and enjoying their first Christmas together as a couple.
This year, they got their first real tree, cutting it down at Jones Tree Farm and trucking it home tied to their roof rack on Sarah’s Outback. He hadn’t used a Christmas tree stand in years and forgot that he needed to put a plastic bag under it, before he brought the tree in.
The leaking water soaked and stained the rug and Sarah shook her head as he walked in with the wine looking at the stain.
“You know, I would give anything if we hadn’t spilled that water when we put this tree up”, Sarah said, taking the wine glass from Simon.
“I haven’t had a real tree in years, I’m sorry that I forgot how to do it”, Simon said.
“It’s ok, we’ll get it out somehow, “ Sarah said, “ At least we have a tree”.
Simon and Sarah were celebrating their third anniversary this year, and Christmas was always a second thought to the celebration they shared nine days before. Usually they went away for their anniversary and would just be arriving at one of their parents houses right about now.
This year though, they had to forgo the anniversary trip and the tree, the decorating and the cooking was all up to them. Simon kind of preferred it that way.
“You know, this pandemic has a bright side” Simon said, “we’ve never spent Christmas by ourselves before.”
“It’s kinda nice, isn’t it?” Sarah replied.
Simon had bought a small rib roast that he was going to cook on Christmas day and Sarah was making bacon wrapped scallops with asparagus for Christmas eve dinner. Their families had always done these two meals for Christmas eve and Christmas day, because the quick cooking scallops made it possible to make it to Christmas eve service at the church and everyone loved prime rib on Christmas day. Since it was just the two of them this year though, Simon had the butcher cut a two rib roast, so they didn’t have a bunch of leftovers to throw out.
The two made dinner and ate, finishing their bottle of Browne. They had dessert in the living room and turned on the television to watch the evening news.
The anchor read a story about how conservative leaders like Rush Limbaugh and Alex Jones were saying that the Trump loyalists should consider sedition if Trump was going to be denied the presidency. The anchor said that they ought to be jailed for their suggestion and that all Americans should be coming together to celebrate the holidays with the spirit of forgiveness and thankfulness after a year like 2020.
Simon said, “I can’t say I agree with sedition, but I also can’t say that they don't have reason for concern”
“What do you mean?” said Sarah, “Biden won, lets just accept that and get on with ending this pandemic”.
“You know they did rig the primary and who knows what Biden did to keep his son out of jail for Burisma. Where there’s smoke, there has to be some fire. Their gonna keep investigating Biden and his team well into the next year and you know it” said Simon
“I can’t believe you are even considering their side Simon. They are racist assholes who want to overturn a legal election because it didn’t go their way!” Sarah said irritated.
“I’m not saying they are right, I’m just saying that they have a point,” said Simon.
“And what point is that? That if you lose an election you can just set aside millions of votes and name whomever you want president or threaten to secede from the Union if you don’t get your way?” Sarah said with growing anger.
“I can see you take this very personally Sarah, it’s Christmas eve. I don't want to fight”, said Simon.
“You bet your ass I take this personally, I’m a woman. Trump is a rapist bastard who grabs women by their pussies and you want me to understand HIS side of the story?” she yelled.
“I'm not saying that…” said Simon.
“Or he can divert millions of dollars to a wall no one wants, cage immigrant children from parents who cross the border and otherwise be the xenophobic asshole we know him to be?” yelled Sarah.
“No...I just think…” said Simon
“Or his followers can intimidate, and threaten innocent people with weapons at their homes because they didn’t like the fact that he lost an election fair and square?” she continued yelling.
Simon was growing irritated as well at being domineered in this conversation, but did his best to try and diffuse the situation.
“Honey I’m just saying that they aren’t all wrong”, said Simon.
“Oh like Hitler wasn’t all wrong because he was named Man of the Year in 1939 despite the fact that millions of German’s followed a dictator blindly resulting in the deaths' of millions of Jews, Russians, Americans, English, French and every other country where he killed people? Trump is the same man as Hitler, he just isn’t as successful. You and all those other assholes who say they have a point or that that orange haired bastard shouldn’t be run out of the town on a rail covered in tar and feathers are just as complicit in the installation of a monster” said Sarah getting up and going to the kitchen.
When she came back she had poured a glass of wine and didn’t bring one for her husband.
“Sarah”, he said, trying to hold his temper, “I resent the fact that you lump me in with Nazis and racists. You know me and you know what I think, I don't support his racist policies, but I also can’t support the Democrats who have rigged the political system ever since they lost to George W. Are we supposed to just turn a blind eye to all the things they have done wrong simply because Trump is an asshole? That is why they have a point, we can’t trust the democrats any more than can trust the republicans and something stinks when it comes to Biden. I wouldn’t be half surprised if they didn’t impeach him in the first six months”
Sarah took a long sip of her wine and listened to her husband. “Simon I am sorry if you think I am lumping you in with racists like Rush Limbaugh, but if you believe for a second the conspiracy crap they are feeding you about Biden and Barisma and the Hillary’s emails and the satanic liberal cult that is taking over the world, then I say you are as much of a shit head as they are”.
Simon could feel his temperature rise and the fact that she had not brought him a glass of wine while she so conspicuously sipped hers made him angry. He tried to fight fair, but was losing his patience.
“You libtard morons are just as bad those racists fuckers who say they want to secede. You're all part of the same problem, just different sides of it. You take half truths as fact and blindly follow your almighty media, whether it's MSNBC or Fox news, you're all part of the same problem” he barked at his wife.
All she heard was the phrase “libtard” and the glass flew from her hand. It smashed on the wall behind Simon’s head into a thousand shards, that rained down on him soaking him in wine and covering him with glass.
The sound stopped him first and then the feel of the wine on his head stole his attention. He looked at her with incredulity. His jaw dropped and his mouth lay open mid thought.
She looked at him and her face went pale. Neither could believe that she threw the wine glass and no one knew what to say next.
She got up from her seat and went back to the kitchen. When she came back she had a sponge and towel and another glass of wine which lovingly set in front of Simon while she dabbed the wine from his head and picked the glass off his head and shirt with the towel.
He lifted the wine glass and said, “Thank you.”
When she had cleaned most of the glass up, she said, “Honey why don’t you run up stairs and hop in the shower. Just be careful about the glass and your bare feet”
Simon did as she suggested and went up to shower. He came back down, all clean and free of wine and glass. He saw her cleaning the stain from the wall and the back of the couch.
He saw a fresh bottle of Browne sitting open on the table and two clean wine glasses with a piece of pecan pie with whipped cream slightly melted on top. Next to the table, she placed his slippers where she thought he might like to sit and on the television played “It’s a Wonderful Life’.
She said, “I love this scene” as George ran down the street in the snow, wishing the old building and loan a Merry Christmas.
Simon said, “I do too. I am sorry for what I said. I never meant to call you a libtard”.
Sarah said, “I'm sorry too. But I still think you're an asshole for agreeing with anything those racist morons say.”
“If I tell you that it wouldn’t hurt my feelings to see Biden impeached, will you throw another glass of wine at me?’ asked Simon.
“Probably, said Sarah, “so don't say it out loud ever again in my presence”
Simon said, “OK good tip. Thanks for the pie”.
They watched the rest of the movie and went to bed. The next morning they walked on the beach and enjoyed a prime rib for Christmas dinner in their home together, without a single visitor or family member.
That night when the holiday was ending and a gentle snow began to fall in the backyard, Simon put his arm around his wife and said, “Sarah, this is the best Christmas ever."
Friday, November 20, 2020
My Novel "Wither We Tend" Explained
For a long time the idea of writing and movie making would have been impossible for me to even dream, because of my ADHD. Now that I am receiving proper instruction on how to live with ADHD however , I am working on my first novel, "Whither We Tend".
Simon Gates is a mild mannered insurance agent from Stratford, CT who is thrust into the Post-Trump America where civil war and the Resistance bubbles feverishly below the surface. When he has a car accident with a cop killer, he decides to take advantage of a new Army program designed to defend America's homeland with a volunteer force of small business owners.
The Hawk, an ex-military contractor with a gift for writing, just happens to write a plan that will address the state of an Un-American America and posts it to the dark web. Its a solution to end the game where the rich get richer and the poor hate everyone, and he begins by waking the monster that was the Militia movement and becomes The Resistance. That plan quickly morphs into a movement to restore our Nation to its former glory by tamping out the one thing that holds back the unification and militarization of the underserved in America, racism.
As the two men take mirroring paths to a waiting conflict, they accompany the reader to learn that "us and them" are not so different after all. It is not the enemy we know that causes us the most harm, but the friend we think we know that is most dangerous to us as Americans.
I should have it done by Thanksgiving and hope to have it for sale before too many months into 2021. Just as Lincoln wrote in his House Divided speech on June 16, 1858, "If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could then better judge what to do, and how to do it."
By the state of the Union, I do hope we will find out if this novel is just an exercise in fiction or if it is in fact a premonition of the way we tend as a society.
Saturday, November 7, 2020
Ding Dong the Witch is Dead, now what?
While the Universe of Biden fans erupts with renditions of 'Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead" this morning and Trump supporters make their weekly run to restock their ammo at Walmart, a smell of irony rises from the cesspool.
I read an article last night that prompted a bit of peacemaking between my wife and I before bed. I think it came from the Washington Post, although I am having a hell of time finding it this morning, given how much it irritated my wife last night.
The article last night said that if Trump hangs in their and doesn't concede, the republicans will demand that all the contested states are thrown out of the total electoral count because "electoral irregularities".
Then, because the electoral college is nullified, the election wall fall to the state legislatures to adopt a panel of electors and with that they have the votes to beat the Democrats and put Trump in office for four more years.
That's a boiled down version and my wife argued that Trumps concession has no legal binding and that the piece was just a liberal version of Fox news scare tactics. And she's right it is.
But that doesn't mean that the methodology they used for analyzing the various ways the Constitutional process of electing a president can screw us is wrong. In fact, I spent a whole college career learning about ways the electoral process at the presidential level can screw the average American, and if I read that article, you know one of Rudy Giuliani staff has as well.
I would guess that just about now they are briefing the Trump War room on a plan to subvert the process and get around the Electoral College using one of about a thousand legal ways there are to set aside the popular vote. It is a well understood Constitutional principle that the process of electing a president favors a state-based election over a population-based election and there is no way in hell, that the Trump team of lawyers is not pulling out all stops to end run what the Media is calling a done deal this morning.
The only question is which way will they direct their fire first and how will they come at Biden and the American legal system.
But it gets even worse. With McConnell and Graham heading back to the Senate and a net loss of seats for the Dems in the House, Biden's four years ahead are going to make the Obama years look like a cake walk through the land of Cooperation.
Even if Biden does get his chance to wear his prettiest dress to the great big White House dance, the Republican's in Congress are gonna make sure he gets a big ol' bucket pig blood dumped on his noggin every chance they get. We are in for yet another four years of a dysfunctional government that is going to make the last 20 look like a pot party circa 1969 Haight-Ashbury.
That's only if, we manage to curb the Bush light consumption and Walmart Sports Department spending sprees of the alt right. The only saving grace there is, is that Rush Limbaugh is running out of steam and likely wont make it another four years to spew his hate-filled rhetoric that gets the alt right so hot and bothered.
I'm not saying I am bearish on the prospects of Mr. and Mrs. America in the next four years, but what I am saying is that my vison of what lies ahead is making for one great novel. Which by the way, since they gave Biden the nod, you wont get to see it again until it gets published. So sorry but thanks for playing along at home.
Friday, November 6, 2020
Im writing a Novel about Civil War II
Here's a short little update on why I haven't been posting to my pages lately.
#1 The political world is a mess
#2 I'm writing my first novel
A SEO analyst told me the other my website is crap. It's confused, has too many topics and above all things, I should stay away from politics. That's when I told him I was writing a novel about politics and the conversation ended.
My website is crap. I get it. There is too much stuff and you need an update to your Garmin to navigate it. But that is the way my mind works and my website is kind of like snapshot of my mind. I hope you like it, but its not for you really is it?
That's the way my brain works and that my friends is why I have a website. It is the outlet I have to get this stuff out of my mind, whether it makes sense to Google or not
So why then, you may ask, have I not posted blog or anything much recently? Well that's because I am writing a Novel about the events that we are experiencing today.
The election is on everyone's mind right now and we all are worried that this is the start of Civil War II.
Well I am writing novel about that very thing- what if it does come to Civil War II.
What would that look like? How would it get started? How would it end?
I am wandering into the world of imaginary politics to presuppose that Trump has lost and Biden doesn't work out. A new name is thrust on the political stage in the form a progressive liberal dictator named Crawford and the United States of America as we know it ends.
There are two sides to this story. One protagonist in the form of a doughy-eyed insurance salesman named Simon Gates who lives in my home town of Stratford, CT and the other a hard-as-nails former military contractor named Augustus Spiros.
They both are fighting for an America that they want to see, but in the end, the America that emerges for both of them is everything and nothing that they envision.
As I think that is what is going to happen when this election is done. Neither side will be happy with the outcome and neither side will be disappointed either. What is coming next will shock us all I am sure, whether it is Trump or Biden who wins. The only thing that is sure is we all will lose.
I have taken the liberty to post an excerpt from my Novel on my Patreon account, but today I will do one better. I will post the entire first chapter. It will only be available until they announce the winner of the election and your gonna have to pay $5 to read it. You may hate it, but it is what might happen if we don't all step back and take breather before we do whatever it is we are going to do next.
View it here until they announce and then it self destructs, https://www.patreon.com/thatsailingguy
Saturday, October 17, 2020
Long Live The SCOTUS , (just not too long)
While the likes of McConnell and Graham try to ram rod a character out of The Hand Maid's Tale on to the SCOTUS bench, and Pelosi tries to lobby support to pack the court with liberals after the Trump train leaves town, I say we double down and institute age limits for justices so that a lifetime isn't so long .
The Supreme Court of the United States is a weird animal. Nine people are selected to be the highest judges of the land, but by Constitutional edict, they have no requirements for education, age or even nationality. Trump could nominate Putin himself to be a justice on the Supreme Court and in all likelihood, McConnell would fall all over himself to get him a hearing.
Putin, currently a vivacious youngster by our current political standards at the tender of 68, could serve at least twenty or more years and truly turn this Nation into the Oligarchy he has engineered through Trump for years to come if he sat there.
What if we said however, that you had to be 70 to take the bench, so in all likely hood no one could do more than 18 years of damage. If they do survive into their Hundreds however, we will get the advantage of their wisdom. Rash dictators like Putin and Nazi marionettes like A.C.B. would never get the chance to sew women's vagina's shut?
If we are going to lift the Constitutional hood and turn the volume of the Court up to eleven, why not stick an age limit on appointees to the highest court in the land that says they can't put the robe on until they are 70.
People are Living longer
With seniors living well into their 90's and 100's these days and the idea that the Baby Boomers will run this airline for the rest of eternity, the political elites of both parties are working to engineer a SCOTUS that will serve the needs of the 60 plus crowd for decades to come
Trump's pick, Amy Coney Barrett is 48 years old. If she is appointed, which from all appearances is going to happen, she will serve a minimum of 30 years. Kavanaugh is a tender 55 years old, and will more than likely, serve as long or eve longer than RBG, who died at 87 years and served for 27 years.
If you look at it, the average time served by the current court is just over 15 years and that is because Trump has had two nominees appointed in the last term with a third likely to get the nod. The expectation is that these three justices will have a say in what happens in American juris prudence for the next three decades.
If that doesn't scare you, then that explains why you send your kids to the Freddy Kruger Day Care and Education Center for Gifted youth. That's a freaking nightmare of the tenth degree to think the these three people, will make up a majority with Clarence Thomas and Sam Alito, for at least the next decade and likely longer.
So then the liberals want to pack the court with at least two or maybe maybe four justices when the Dems get the gavel this Spring and that is just as scary.
The court could take a liberal sway for the next fifty years, where we are all taxed 50 percent and have to attend historical reeducation camps because they finally wake to the the fact that the Kennedy and Clinton were not heroes, but instead philandering womanizers who turned tricks in the oval office.
We are at a cross roads in our world, where the future is, for the first time in the history of the world, looking more bleak than ever and we are engineering the court to resist change as much as possible by allowing the extending age of people to slow the winds of change. It is happening exactly at a time when we need to speed up our action on key issues like social justice, global warming and fair access to technology.
What's Good For Two Branches, Should Be Good For The Third
Presidents can't take office until they have maintained a residence here for 14 years and reached the age of 35. Senator's have to be 30 and Representatives have to be 25. Now that I am in my 40's, I think those age limits are a bit too young, but when the founding fathers came up with them, life expectancy wasn't what it is today.
In those days, you could die from strep throat or even a rough bout with food poisoning. People were dropping like flies, so they had to get them while they were old enough to not be assholes, but not so old that would die in office.
No one thought to do that for the third branch though, as their concern was not getting too old, but not living long enough to make a difference. For the first twenty years of the nation no justice served longer than 20 years with shortest service coming from Thomas Johnson who only made for 163 days. It was all the first Presidents could do to fill the court, because they all kept dying off.
It wasn't until 1798 that they would appoint the first justice who would serve 30 years in Bushrod Washington. If you think about it, he witnessed the Revolutionary War and the advent of modern travel with the invention of the steam train. The world where he started with looked very different than the world he finished with and the law changed considerably over that time.
Bushrod Washington was only one of only six justices most of whom barely served a couple years. It wasn't until the the twentieth century that it became common place for justices to make to 30 years and no one has ever served more than 36 and that was William O. Douglas who lived until 1980 and died at the age of 82.
If ACB is appointed and lives to a common life expectancy, we will have Mrs. Waterford in the highest court of the land for at least the next 40 years, if she lives as long as RBG. Odds are however she will be in her 90's when she calls it quits and we will have a cool half century of "Blessed be" and "Under his Eye".
If Biden gets the job and stacks the court, he is going create a court full of Billie Eilish and Justin Bieber and we will have 2020 green-haired popstars with barely dry law degrees running the land until 2080. None of it is good and it seems like we're heading that direction at a million miles an hour.
Now I am not saying I am a fan of either party or either direction for the court. What I do think though is to change the makeup of the court, which I think we must do if ACB gets the nod, we have to get both houses and the president on board.
Marco Rubio wants to fix the court at nine and that would require a Constitutional amendment which if Trump gets to preside over the next session may be inevitable. But as I think the Trump train is leaving town, either voluntarily or involuntarily come January, it might behoove all involved to foster the spirit of cooperation in the new congress.
Maybe we give the Republicans a bone by giving them the votes to fix the court at nine, as long as we institute an age limit on the justices in the amendment to minimize future damage. Of course, if the libs offered Rubio his bone now, in exchange for tanking the ACB nomination, we could avert 50 years of Mrs. Waterford. Oh to dream.
Thanks for reading and remember, I'm just a sailor.
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