A paradise without politics.

More and more. I am convinced. That I live in a world. Dominated by dirty and rotten and immoral politics. Over which 99 percent of us. Have virtually no understanding. And thereby, no control. Furthermore, those of us who enter the political arena. Are caught up. In a quagmire. Often referred to as a swamp. That politicians claim must be cleaned out. But that is no more than mere rhetoric. Because the swamp is filled with quicksand. That automatically pulls down and  consumes and destroys  anyone with good intentions. The corruption is so pervasive. That reform is impossible. Good intentions. Such as those of Barack Obama. Can get nowhere. That’s the futility of it all. One cannot succeed. In the realm of politics. Unless one’s intent is to be dirty and rotten and immoral. Yes, a very odd form of success. Because it amounts to failure. In what should be efforts to achieve the common good. Sad. Sad. That the common bad prevails. Forever. Unless we find a way. To escape the political world. And that is precisely what I am trying to do.  Please. Please, dear creator. Destroy the world of politics. So that we all can live free. In a paradise without politics. Where decency and the common good prevail. --Jim Broede

Please, give me 9000 lives.

I have a feeling. That I will have the opportunity. To live my life. Over and over again. Not the exact same life.  But as the same being. Under altered circumstances. Consider the undeniable fact every life has infinitesimal pivotal moments.  When one could steer in a different direction. For instance, declining a job in Minnesota. Instead, accepting another offer. Elsewhere. A different place. A different situation. Different people. One’s life could be changed. Dramatically. By that single decision. I won’t know how. Unless I’m able to relive it all. The same me. In another life. But it really won’t be the same me.  Through and through. Because I’ll be influenced. Swayed. Merely by being in a different place at a different time. I’ll marry someone else. Or maybe I’ll remain single. Or maybe my life will be shortened.  As the result of a tragic  accident. Yes, being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’d not mind. Living my life over and over again. Just to make such a discovery. If for no other reason. Than out of curiosity. Similar to being the proverbial  cat. With nine lives.  But please, give me 9,000 lives. -Jim Broede

In the way that counts.

I'm more convinced than ever. That animals have spirits/souls. I am still connected to Loverboy.  His spirit lives. Inside me. It's even more profound than his physical presence. Which I have no more. But doesn't really matter. Because he's living inside me. In the way that counts. --Jim Broede

That's all I need.

I like it. That I have an Italian amore. Otherwise known as Cristina. My true love. Cristina is with me. Everyday.  Even when we are separated. By an ocean and thousands of miles.  That doesn’t matter.  Because there’s a meaningful spiritual tie.  That’s the difference. Between ordinary love and true love. I feel Cristina’s presence. At any time. Doesn’t matter if she’s in Sardinia. And I’m in Minnesota. That’s one of the niceties about our relationship. Togetherness, 365 days a year. Daily contact.  One way or another. But always a guaranteed spiritual connection. True love. That’s all I need from life. --Jim Broede

To be the creator.

Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. That’s my preoccupation. I’m thinking. About something or other. Sometimes about not being able to think. Losing the ability to think. Fortunately, I refuse to stop thinking. If and when that happens, I suppose, that’s the end of conscious life. Can one still be alive? Without conscious thought? And merely go about the motions of  life. Without a thought? Can one forget to think about anything? Does one need a physical presence to be alive with thought? Can I leave my body? Perhaps in a dream.  And still exist? As a mere thought.  I crave. To be a body-less thought. A spirit. That moves about. To anywhere one desires. In the infinite cosmos. Then I would know. How it must feel. To be the creator. --Jim Broede

What the world needs most

I judge people. By trying to gauge their decency level. I muse. To myself. ‘Is this guy or gal likely to do the decent thing?’ Sooner or later, I get the answer. Of course, I like to associate with decent people. They tend to be trustworthy.  And fair-minded. I wish the world was full of decent politicians. There are some that fit the bill. But not near enough. Especially at the higher levels.  I’m leery. Wary. Cautious. About one in particular. Yes, it’s Donald Trump.  I’m afraid that he’s not a very decent fellow. Maybe I’m being too judgmental. But from what I’ve seen so far. I’m of the mind. That Trump is not to be trusted. He’s more in love with himself. Than with other people. And the country.  Furthermore, he’s mean-spirited. A shyster, too.  If Trump had a true sense of decency,  he’d wake up. To reality. That he was barely elected president. In fact, he didn’t even get a majority of the popular vote. A decent human being would recognize such a fact. And do the decent thing. By looking for decent ways to bring a divided nation together. By being reasonably fair to the majority of voters who didn’t vote for him.  Imagine that. Being a decent and fair-minded president. Finding the sort of common ground that brings feuding factions together.  In a spirit of cooperation and compromise and goodwill. It’s commonly called human decency. Exactly what this world needs. --Jim  Broede

Hold on everyone.

Donald Trump is a freak. A charlatan. A snake oil salesman. A liar.  But above all else. A celebrity. Maybe the most famous person in the United States. Maybe the most recognized name in the world. And soon to be the next president. Because he’s a genius. When it comes to manipulating the tools that make him a celebrity. The media. The news media. The social media. Every media. By being outlandish. By being a freak. By being like no one else dares to be.  He’s enamored.  By a solid base of—let me say it ---suckers. Who have little idea of what he stands for. Other than he wants to rock the boat. And make America great again. Yes, a meaningless slogan. His supporters have no idea of where Trump stands. On the issues. But they believe. That he’s a modern-day messiah.  That when push comes to shove. He’ll  deliver. They have faith. Of religious proportions. They are true believers. In Donald Trump.  Almost as if he’s the Second Coming. Of course, I’m frightened. I wish it weren’t so. But it’s happening. It’s the new political reality. In my homeland. Trump has pulled off the biggest political upset. Ever. Right here. In the land of the free and the home of the brave. And the politically witless. Despite not even garnering a majority of the popular vote. Indeed, an amazing freak feat. Pulled off by a celebrity freak. In true freakish style. Yes, that’s my take. On the new reality. Hold on everyone. We are in for a freakish ride. Happy New Year! --Jim Broede