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Boots On The Ground: Days in the Life of an Average American Nobody

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“Boots On The Ground:
 Days in the Life of an Average American Nobody”
By Doug “Uncola” Lynn
“Up at 6:30 AM. Showered, dressed, and cooking breakfast by 7:00 AM. Eggs, toast, fruit, and coffee ingested. Boots on, and laced, and out the door by 7:35 AM. Drove to the county seat and made two stops there. Then off to the Department of Transportation (DOT) center located across town by a now near-empty shopping mall.
Slowed onto the highway off-ramp at approximately 10 AM. While waiting at the stoplight at the bottom of the ramp, a woman was seated on a street meridian just ahead. She was wearing blue jeans, a hat, mittens, a soiled winter coat, and holding a sign. The sign was a petition for money and at the bottom, in red letters, it said:  “Any amount will help”.
Near the woman, in a perpendicular line of cars that were about to enter the on-ramp of the highway, an obese lady in a mini-van quickly searched her purse then handed some cash to the sign-holder. As I drove off, I saw the porcine and smiling driver glowing with the satisfaction of having her sins self-atoned for that morning. It was a beautiful act of virtue-signaling that I found ironic as I drove by a restaurant less than a block away with a help-wanted sign prominently displayed in its front window.
Upon arrival at the DOT center around 10:15 AM, I drew my number from the dispenser. It was 96. In looking around the room, I saw there were no empty chairs.The place was packed. As I glanced upwards over a veritable riff-raff of humanity, I saw six terminals of which only three were in use. Over each one there were electronic red digital numbers – all in the low sixties. It meant I had to wait for over thirty people ahead of me.
For the next hour or so, I noticed how the middle terminal was being monopolized by what appeared to be either an Algerian or Moroccan interpreter.I speculated these were the nationalities because those whom he represented appeared to be from North Africa as they spoke to each other in French. It was just an educated guess. In any event, at least four of the foreign language speakers had drawn numbers in sequence far prior to me and the DOT employee was having great difficulty understanding the interpreter’s… shall we say… thickly accented English. I found myself wondering how these people would assimilate into our area without being able to speak English, let alone their capabilities of driving a car and navigating city traffic.
One of the male (previously mentioned) future Democratic Party voters, likely delivered here courtesy of Catholic Charities USA, had a little ebony-skinned girl with him who cutely kept pestering a teen-aged gal and her mother in the adjacent terminal. The mom and teen didn’t quite know what to do. They were trying not to be rude but clearly wanted to focus on their business with the DOT employee. The little girl’s father, wearing a frayed red white and blue sweater, was oblivious.
As the other DOT worker was still busy cryptically gesticulating with the interpreter, the mother and daughter finished their business and got up to leave. After taking a few steps, the mother stopped, dug in her purse, and pulled out a piece of candy. She walked back to give it to the little north-African girl. First, she made hand signals with the girl’s father who couldn’t understand what was happening until he saw the woman pointing at the candy and then to the girl. The father smiled and nodded. The lady gave the kid candy and walked away, smiling smugly.
Although a part of me thought the gesture was generous, a more cynical part marveled at yet another act of virtue-signaling; as another matron glowed with the self-satisfaction of having her sins propitiated that morning. Twice in one day. This was no coincidence. Indeed. Americans are very kind.
Even so, by then, I was in a sour mood; and, after more than an hour of waiting, the numbers above remained only in the mid-eighties. Nature called and I looked for a bathroom. There were no public restrooms within, or in the immediate proximity, of the DOT facility. Obviously, this convenience was not deemed a priority to benefit the Department of Transportation’s (mostly?) tax-paying customers.
So, I exited the facility and walked across the parking lot to the segment of a dying mall that still remained open to the public. Upon entering the once majestic indoor plaza, I mentally compared memories to the mall in its prime with what appeared before me just then. What a difference. Amidst scores of empty storefronts on two floors, there were a total of four businesses with their lights on; two clothing stores, an upscale confectionary, and an armed services recruiting center. Inside them all I saw only employees. No customers.
I found the bathroom right where I remembered it to be. It was centered between what once was a bookstore that I used to enjoy frequenting and a sports store where I often bought running shoes.  But, now, both businesses were long gone like the U.S. Constitution, the attorney-client privileges of Republican presidents, bi-partisan politics, and Joe Biden’s presidential aspirations.Upon exiting the restroom, I looked around and made a mental note to never let my wife walk alone to these particular facilities, should that necessity ever arise.
After a brisk walk back to the DOT center and waiting for another twenty minutes to conduct my five minutes of processing, I got back on the highway at around noon or so. Upon returning home and devouring a quick sandwich, I sat at my desk and ran a YouTube replay of the morning’s impeachment hearings.These featured Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Vindman and vice-presidential aid Jennifer Williams.
The most interesting segment occurred when Chairman Adam Schiff interrupted House Republican Devin Nunes during a line of questioning to Vindman. It seemed Schiff thought Nunes’ questions were getting too close to revealing the identity of the alleged CIA whistleblower, who everyone knows is an intelligence spook named Eric Ciaramella. But, if both Schiff and Vindman denied knowing the identity of the whistleblower, then how could they know his identity was about to be revealed during that line of questioning? This was, of course, the whole point and was appropriately raised by Nunes in the hearing.
Also during his fracas with Nunes, Schiff once again falsely cited “whistleblower protection” law. This was maliciously deceptive because Schiff surely understood that U.S. Code Section 3033 prohibited only the Intelligence Community Inspector General from releasing a name, and not anyone else. Besides, Ciaramella is a CIA spy and not a real whistleblower anyway.
Regardless, by late afternoon, I switched to the live testimony of former special representative to Ukraine, Kurt Volker, and National Security Council (NSC) official Tim Morrison. It was just more of the same. No evidence of criminality and never-ending statements of mere opinion and hearsay regarding Trump’s July 25, 2019 phone transcript with Ukraine President Volodymyr Zelensky.
Undoubtedly, of the seven people who listened to the Trump-Zelensky phone call, only Lt. Col. Vindman chose to overtly undermine Trump’s powers under Article II of the U.S. Constitution. Moreover, Vindman admitted to working outside of his chain-of-command to do so. Therefore, it has become clear that it was Vindman who leaked the content of the July 25th Trump-Zelensky call to the CIA spy Eric Ciaramella.
Although, NSC official Tim Morrison expressed concerns over the call regarding “political fallout” (that the Democrats have validated with their inquisition) and vice-presidential aide Ms. Williams testified the president’s requests were “unusual and inappropriate” – NONE of the witnesses who listened to the phone call had evidence of anything other than their personal bias while acknowledging they knew very little as to why Trump wanted entities such as Crowdstrike and Burisma to be investigated. As the hearings continued past the dinner hour and into prime time television, I eventually took a break.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, therefore, by the time the evening news rolled around, the following was reported from newsrooms around the nation: “Although Republicans have decried ‘hearsay’ over impeachment testimony from those not listening in on President Trump’s July 25, 2019 phone call with Ukraine President Volodymyr Zelensky, the officials who testified today actually listened in on the call and they found Trump’s requests to be ‘unusual and inappropriate’. 
And now to local happenings with… So today is another new day. And, as of this writing, the Ambassador to the European Union, Gordon Sondland, has testified to his personal “presumptions” of Trump’s “quid pro quo”. And, after a strategic press conference by the Democrats during the morning’s first five-minute break, all of the Orwellian Media headlines were released into the United States of Oceana. This, of course, occurred before Sondland later admitted to having no evidence of quid pro quo while citing a phone call where Trump told him directly that no quid pro quo was necessary.
Nevertheless, the Democrats on the Intelligence Impeachment Committee claimed the jig was up for Trump by that point, and that the president’s motives have been impure and highly suspicious during this entire sordid affair. Even now, as these words are typed, more government officials of whose names will be hard to remember two days from now are said to soon testify regarding their opinions and lack of evidence regarding President Trump’s alleged misdeeds.
The bullshit will never end. And this is due, in large part, to the fact that Epstein didn’t kill himself.”


Source: http://coyoteprime-runningcauseicantfly.blogspot.com/2019/11/boots-on-ground-days-in-life-of-average.html



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