biden sticks his foot in his mouth


afghanistan times

february 10, 2020


During presidential election inter-partisan debates in the United States, it has become customary for the leading candidates to engage in debates where they table topics for discussion which are often the most controversial issues of the time. A recent instance is of a hardcore democratic politician’s remarks regarding Afghanistan, something that has riled Afghans. Joe Biden, who is a candidate for president in the 2020 US election, while addressing a debate said, “with regards to Afghanistan, I was totally against the whole notion of nation-building. There’s no possibility at all of making it a whole country. But it is possible to see they’re not able to launch more attacks.” Afghan politico and masses have lambasted Biden for such absurd and morally bankrupt notions, and rightly so. Former president Hamid Karzai in a statement called Joe Biden’s remarks on Afghanistan ‘irresponsible’ and ‘unrealistic’ and said ‘it is evident that the US has never sought nation-building in Afghanistan.’ The question here is why does he think like that and remark as such?

It’s mainly because of being a gifted demagogue with particular skill in manipulating the American taxpayers by stating the popular opinion to win the public support in the election. However, he should know that Afghanistan has remained a resilient nation. No country in the world could go through 40 years of back-to-back invasions, interferences, imposed wars and still remain intact. It’s Afghanistan which has remained united despite the war and destruction. Biden scapegoating Afghanistan for its multiethnic trait is just a demagogic move, something usually expected from politicians. Afghanistan has remained a nation-state because we share the same culture despite ethnic disparities, which should be our strength not a weakness. In Afghanistan, nation-building is possible if we have a grassroots-approach and is undoubtedly impossible when it is an external imposition. These remarks should serve as a wake-up call for Afghans to beware of the manipulative designs of some elements who want to divide us along ethnic lines.

Moreover, multiple reports have suggested and many agree that American nation-building efforts have so far failed to establish and sustain democracies in 11 (excluding Afghanistan) countries. And one reason could be the securitization modus operandi used by the US – an extreme version of politicization that enables extraordinary means to be used in the name of security – while providing the posturing and alibi of building our nation. Therefore, such outspoken and revolutionary ideas by the American politician are only aimed at winning public support of Republican-exhausted American voters in the upcoming election. The natural fabric of Afghan society is tightly woven to the extent that despite ethnic dissimilarities, we have remained intact and will remain as such against the consistent foreign interference. Therefore, Biden should drop his maximalist position, which will do him no good, and apologize for his ignorant and irresponsible statement regarding Afghanistan.



pentagon wants to help


by ABC News Radio

May 17, 2019


(WASHINGTON) — The Pentagon is requesting the ability to provide lodging and transportation to insurgent groups in Afghanistan that are looking to implement local ceasefires with the Afghan government, the Pentagon said recently.

The decision to request the authority came after a largely successful ceasefire was implemented between the Taliban and Afghan government last summer.

“Following the June 2018 ceasefire in Afghanistan, the Commander of U.S. Forces–Afghanistan requested the authority to use funds to facilitate meetings between the Afghan government and insurgent groups looking to implement local ceasefires in order to be poised to take advantage of further opportunities to reduce levels of violence in the country should such opportunities present themselves,” Pentagon spokesperson Cmdr. Rebecca Rebarich told ABC News.

The funds could go to lodging and transportation for militants if that was required to get all parties to the negotiating table “in areas that are difficult to access otherwise,” Rebarich said, adding that no U.S. military vehicles or aircraft would be used.

No Pentagon funds have been used for such a purpose. Instead, the Pentagon made the request in anticipation of possible scenarios in the future, according to Rebarich.

The acknowledgement by the Pentagon follows an apparent miscommunication with the House Appropriations Subcommittee on Defense, which appeared to interpret the request as related to the ongoing U.S.-Taliban reconciliation efforts led by Ambassador Zalmay Khalilzad.

In response to the perceived request from the Pentagon, the committee included language in its proposed defense spending bill released this week that states, “None of the funds made available by this Act may be used to pay the expenses of any member of the Taliban to participate in any meeting that does not include the participation of members of the Government of Afghanistan or that restricts the participation of women” — two criticisms of the U.S.-Taliban negotiations that are not relevant to local ceasefire discussions between the Afghan government and insurgent groups.

Still, the miscommunication highlights the multiple tracks that the U.S. is pursuing to bring about a negotiated end to the war in Afghanistan.

U.S. and Taliban representatives concluded the sixth and latest round of peace talks in Qatar earlier this month, which a Taliban spokesperson called “positive in total.”

Khalilzad tweeted that the two sides “made steady but slow progress on aspects of the framework for ending the Afghan war,” but added that “the current pace of talks isn’t sufficient when so much conflict rages and innocent people die.”

At the same time those talks were concluding, the Taliban claimed responsibility for an attack on a U.S. non-profit organization in Kabul that killed at least nine people. Meanwhile, seven U.S. service members have been killed in combat-related events in Afghanistan in 2019.

“A key priority for the administration is to end the war in Afghanistan through a negotiated peace settlement between the Afghan government and the Taliban, and the U.S. is working to help facilitate such a settlement,” Rebarich said. “The United States also supports local peace initiatives between the Afghan government and insurgent groups looking to cease hostilities against the Afghan Government and coalition forces.”

Copyright © 2019, ABC Radio. All rights reserved.



Terror Probe Points At Pakistan


Hollie McKay

December 07, 2015


The investigation into the jihadist couple who massacred 14 people in San Bernardino last week is pointing to Pakistan as the likely source of the pair’s radicalization, a development that threatens to expose once again the tenuous relations between the U.S. and the country accused of once harboring Al Qaeda founder and 9/11 mastermind Osama bin Laden.

Investigators are focusing on Tashfeen Malik, who married Syed Rizwan Farook after meeting him online and coming to the U.S. on a fiancee visa, and are particularly interested in a period from roughly 2007 to 2014 that she spent in her native Pakistan. It is during that time when she may have become radicalized, adopting the extremist ideology that she may have spread to her American-born husband. U.S. Attorney General Loretta Lynch said that investigators have interviewed more than 300 people and are working with Pakistan and other foreign governments as part of the far-reaching probe. Pakistan’s interior minister also announced the country had launched its own investigation.

Despite being allies in the war on terror, the relationship between the U.S. and Pakistan has been plagued by mistrust, and the current probe could expose further cracks in cooperation. Osama bin Laden is believed to have lived for years in his Abbottabad compound, possibly with the knowledge of government authorities, prior to the May 2011 Navy SEAL raid in which he was killed. Now, the U.S. is believed to be putting heavy pressure on Pakistan to cooperate on its end of the investigation into the deadliest terror attack on American soil since 9/11.

“It’s time that Pakistan matures up and accepts some responsibility,” a source with knowledge of discussions between U.S. and Pakistani officials told “At this stage, Tashfeen’s training is all leading back to Pakistan.”

Although Malik spent much of her youth in Saudi Arabia, where her father was an engineer, she lived after 2007 in her native Pakistan, where she also resided during the time she met Farook online. Authorities in the U.S. and Pakistan are probing her ties to an extremist and influential imam in Islamabad to try to understand the roots of her radicalization.

A newly surfaced photo, first obtained by ABC News and showing Tashfeen Malik and Syed Rizwan Farook going through customs at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, underscored the international  undertone of the probe into events proceeding Wednesday’s terrorist attack. The photo is believed to show the pair arriving from Saudi Arabia in 2014.

Malik, 29, was born to a wealthy family in Pakistan’s southern Punjab province, moved to Saudi Arabia as a child and returned to Pakistan to study pharmacology in 2007. Classmates of Malik at Bahauddin Zakariya University told the Los Angeles Times that while Malik was enrolled at the school, she also studied at Al Huda, a chain of religious institutes affiliated with ties to North America.

“She used to go to attend sessions in Al Huda almost every day,” one of Malik’s former classmates told the Times.

While Pakistan has pledged to work with the U.S., there are signs the government is clamping down on the media’s effort to get answers. On Monday, Pakistani police barred local and international media from entering the pharmacy department where Malik studied. Police inspector Muhammad Ali said the reporters did not have valid documents to work in the city. The university administration deployed extra private security guards outside the facility and after an argument with some reporters, university security officials called in the police. The police escorted the two journalists out of the campus.

There also have been reports Malik may have worshiped at Islamabad’s infamous “Red Mosque.”

The mosque’s controversial cleric Maulana Abdul Aziz, who oversees a web of 27 seminaries in Malik’s native Punjab province, has been a lightning rod for years, and even stoked outrage in Pakistan last year when he refused to denounce the Peshawar school attack that left 148 people dead, including 100 children, referring to it as “an understandable response” to the government expedition against Taliban-aligned groups.

But in a message to, a representative for the Red Mosque vehemently denied any link to Malik, calling implications otherwise “baseless” and “propaganda” to harm their reputation.

“Lal Masjid chief cleric Maulana Abdul Aziz has condemned the San Bernardino attack saying, ‘Islam does not permit attacks on innocent people,’” the representative stated.

A source with knowledge of discussions between U.S. and Pakistani officials said the U.S. is putting renewed pressure on Pakistan to expose and eradicate the radical elements that have operated largely unimpeded there. In addition to the questions surrounding Bin Laden’s post-9/11 movements in Pakistan, the nation is still imprisoning Dr. Shakeel Afridi, the physician who helped the CIA verify that Bin Laden was hiding in plain sight, living near a military facility.

“Pakistan is activating all its consulates trying to determine if other Tashfeens are out there,” the insider, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, told “The Pakistan Army has been working to halt the terrorist money flow, but this is all much bigger than what we see on the surface.”

In the U.S., authorities are focused on who may have helped the couple — who lived on Farook’s $51,000-per-year salary as a county restaurant inspector — assemble an arsenal that included handguns, rifles, thousands of rounds of ammunition and extensive bomb-making supplies and equipment. One man who reportedly legally purchased the two assault rifles the pair used to shoot Farook’s co-workers at the Inland Regional Center has been identified, but is not believed to have knowingly participated in the terror plot.

So far, federal investigators believe the plot was inspired, but not directed, by foreign terrorist organizations. President Obama said in a Sunday evening address that no evidence pointed to the two being part of a “broader conspiracy here at home.”

It is doubtful the couple could have financed their terror activity on Farook’s salary, said House Homeland Security Committee Chairman Michael McCaul, R-Texas. He told Fox News authorities are interested in determining whether the couple had financial help from terrorists either in the U.S. or overseas. The limited salary of a county employee has aroused suspicion that the cache of weapons found in the couple’s Redlands apartment — including pipe bombs and ammunition — may have been purchased with funds from a foreign source, McCaul said.

“I believe on his salary, he was not able to buy this on his own,” McCaul said on “Fox News Sunday.”

Retired FBI Special Agent, Robert Chacon, said the relationship between the U.S. and Pakistan is complex, especially when it comes to fighting terrorism.

“The U.S.-Pakistan relationship has been a tale of mistrust and facades for a long time,” Chacon told “The outward, public relationship between the governments does not always match the covert working relationships between the U.S. intelligence community and the Pakistani intel agencies.”

Radical Islamist groups operate almost as autonomous mini-governments in Pakistan, said Ryan Mauro, a national security analyst at Clarion Project, a New York-based non-profit that monitors the worldwide terror threat.

“If the U.S. discovers that she and her social circle were involved with this radical infrastructure, Pakistan will try to absolve itself of responsibility by saying that the extremists it harbors condemn 9/11 and ISIS,” Mauro predicted. “We have to respond by telling Pakistan that that it isn’t good enough. You are not an ally if you condemn terrorism but promote the ideologies that causes terrorism.

“Last night, President Obama said that the Muslim world’s obligation doesn’t stop with condemning ISIS-type violence; that Muslims must go further and reject the interpretations that conflict with modern values,” Mauro added. “He’s right, and that’s why we should make no distinction between those who sponsor organized terrorist groups and those who sponsor the ideology these groups are founded upon.”



Actual Reincarnation of Davy Crockett


by Cloyd Campfire


Part One: 
A Rudest Of Awakenings
     The souls of the freshly killed swirled above the smoky Alamo in the vintage year of 1836.
     Among these swirling souls, the more spiritually ambitious, in no time at all, streaked like fiery comets thru the tunnel of God’s love, into yonder sea of light ~ that mysterious sea ‘tween our Earth-bound lives.
     Whoa! Please, kind reader, don’t think I mean to attack your imagination with unearthly scrawl that hopes to bloom above the more familiar blood and dust of ye olde Alamo. It’s just that, well, that’s where your imagination’s gotta go if you are going to really read this heart-squeezing patriotic drama that begins in yonder BARDO.
     But first, some of those dizzy souls in the smoke above Texas that sizzling day wouldn’t leave. Shocked & furious, they lingered, futilely wishing to avenge their own deaths.
     Still others, more amiable in disposition but with little if any spiritual ambition, immediately went to sleep & dreamed ~ as they more complacently floated up a rock-a-bye-baby river, so to speak, that emptied into the warm, glowing, euphoric sea that encompasses our islands of incarnate life ~ yonder mysterious BARDO!
     “David? David Crockett? Awake, eternal frontiersman, awake!”
     Upon sleeping over 100 years, the dream-creamed soul of one who had died at ye olde bullet poke-marked basilica, was thusly nudged by the smooth & divine voice of Angelic Lulu.
     “Not yet,” moaned the King of the Wild Frontier. “Let me sleep. Please. Please. Let me sleep.”
     “Awake!” persisted the demure damsel with wings aflutter ~ and she touched ye sleeping hero’s brow with a dab of purple tintillated lightning.
     Davy Crockett rocketed to attention, saluted Angelic Lulu & gritted, “Cruel. Cruel.”
     “I’m sorry, David. We have received for you a mission from God. We must move quickly. Come!”
     In the blink of a black hole & the flash of 1,000 stars, so to speak, they wisped across the BARDO of our other more tranquil side of life, and life, and more life, the euphoric discarnate side where we rest, recuperate, and are judged between lives. And that’s where the duo was now ~ The Judgment Place ~ which resembled a cathedral made of shining galaxies & misty clouds.
     “Wait here, David, I must go find Bishop Tumor & Polynesian Phil.”
     “No! Not them again! C’mon, Lulu! Where’s Jesus? I never see Jesus!”
     “In due time,” coyly curved Angelic Lulu. “In due time, David. You’re not spiritually evolved enough yet, to see Master Jesus.”
     And poof! She was gone.
     A timeless moment later, Crockett observed 3 pecks of light floating way endlessly out yonder, in ye expansive fathomless space ‘tween little islands of incarnate breathing, that space of no space & no time, called ~ EL BARDO!!!
     Closer & closer, bigger & more life like, grew the 3 forms ’til Davy, with a forlorn sigh, recognized that his judges had arrived: the old dumpy dwarf Bishop Tumor, the goo-goo eyed block-head Polynesian Phil, and the irresistible Lulu. Thank God for Angelic Lulu!
     After a few informal “Howdy do’s,” they commenced The Judgment. Let us be brief. Lulu was impressed with Crockett’s love of family. Phil liked the way the frontiersman led about 100 volunteers in a tense & highly justified desertion of General Andrew Jackson & his regulars during a winter lull in the Creek Indian War. And Bishop Tumor, generally speaking, thought Crockett should go straight to hell.
     “Well, it doesn’t matter one way or another,” admonished Lulu with one eye-brow demurely raised. “Because David is going on a Mission from God.”
     Phil click-clacked his wooden tongue excitedly. The bishop boisterously guffawed but said nothing. Then, out of El Bardo no-where, Moses appeared.
     “Moses?” gaped Crockett in a small voice.
     Ye olde patriarch’s eyes were fierce like an eagle’s. And he rumbled like a bear, “David Crockett, ye are beseeched by God to reinstitute the 10 Commandments in the United States of America ~ so that a new generation knows right from wrong. Are you willing?”
     Crockett stammered & turned to Lulu with a beggar’s lack of coin a-drip in his eye. Lulu threw back a haughty look that let him know she had no spare change for him, so to speak, and crossed her arms over her breasts.
     “C’mon, Lulu, help me out here,” begged Crockett.
     The divine damsel slightly smiled. “It IS a mission from God, David.”
     “Yeah, but, but,” whined Crockett. He fell to his knees. “I don’t wanna go back to Planet Earth! I wanna go back to sleeeeeeep!”
     He tearfully kissed Lulu’s knee.
     “Davy!” She blushed.
     Then the desperate American Folk Hero sprang to his feet and took off running.
     Moses & Angelic Lulu watched him futilely seek oblivion in el depthless BARDO. The 2 divinities looked with dismay at each other. They slowly shook their heads.
     “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He used to be so brave,” sighed Lulu.
     “He just has a case of Jonah-itis,” mused Moses. “He’ll be okay. I’ll sic the Earth Demon on him.” And ye olde patriarch raised his miracle staff.
     In response, a beam of brightness ricocheted thru a stained-glass galaxy of The Judgment Place, and transformationed into said demon ~ a rollicking creature actually, full of menace & mischief & resembling a dragon of medieval yore. Plus, the critter was very large. And swift. The Earth Demon took off after Crockett like a locomotive.
     Polynesian Phil & Bishop Tumor, who were still hanging around, clapped with glee, although Phil’s clapping was a bit spastic, since he was made out of wood. Angelic Lulu more gently placed her hands together ~ and prayed for poor Crockett as he ran like a rabbit, like a deer, like a shock-stricken squirrel thru the brush & the gullies that weren’t really there.
     When the demon was close enough, it hurled Planet Earth, which it had been clutching in its claw, at the back of Crockett’s head.
     And the planet ~ with all its dirt & rock & trees & critters & cities & peoples & rivers of joy & valleys of sorrow & plains of justice & mountains of liberty ~ this planet spun thru the Bardo toward its target, the back of Davy’s head as he rapidly fled.
     Then, and then, an awesome splash of light was all that was left of the panicked frontiersman & our spinning football, Earth.     An instant later ~ nothing, nothing but the fabulous BARDO ~ was all around.


 Part Two:
Thy Kingdom Come
     Davy Crockett, reincarnated & 52 now, baby, now ~ pulled the makings outta his shirt pocket & rolled himself a cigarette. He leaned against a porch beam of Veterans Campus. Ye olde historical root lit-up & inhaled gratefully. T’was a crispy Sunday morning in the early spring of 2003.
     He was trapped now, baby, now, by Lady Poverty in this live-in facility that assisted homeless military veterans in their heroic transition into a formidable workforce. Crockett still didn’t have a real job. He’d been slacking here for nearly 2 years. But it wasn’t HIS fault. He slowly exhaled before his raggedy face a meandering smoke sculpture ~ of an angel ~ with a halo around her head & with a trumpet pressed in a most immaculate fashion to her lips. “How amazing,” whispered the eternal frontiersman under his breath to whatever invisible entities might be hanging around. “How’d I do that?”
     Now, baby, now, across the asphalt parking-lot plaza, the head honcho of this Transitional Zone stepped out of his office & gazed up at the clear blue sky as if having spied something strange floating around up there. Then he shrugged & got into his truck & drove out the gate, which was attended by homeless military-veteran fire-guards wearing neck-ties.
     The brief appearance of this gentleman got Crockett to thinking about his failed campaign for mayor of the Queen City of the Rio Grande & how close he had come to winning the election & how it had been foiled by this, uh, gentleman who’d just driven out the gate, this crusty old javilina who was none other than Andrew Jackson, God have mercy, reincarnated! The eternal frontiersman had already had, in his previous life-time, enough of this crusty critter as an unreasonable hot-headed general & a cheatin’ lyin’ political opponent.
     The shadow of what Crockett took to be a jet or a crow or plain irritation, crossed his brow, as he remembered more recent events…
     Sure, the campaign had been somewhat of a rickety old jalopy, so to speak, but it had got to rollin’, and although Crockett was a penniless stranger to the city, he knew he could have won the election (yes, sir!), that is, if Andrew Jackson Reincarnated hadn’t thrown this politically ambitious program of Crockett’s out the window and, with lies & deceit, fandango-ed him instead into fire watch, 12 hours a night, 5 nights a week, at the RS&VP office.
     How could Crockett run an adequately cranked-up campaign for the best job in the city when he then had to stumble around everyday ~ a graveyard-shift zombie?
     The eternal frontiersman foamigated into a seizure of coughing. He staggered over to a trash can, spat into it several times, returned to his supportive porch beam, against which he leaned once more. He inhaled more tobbacky smoke into his trembling lungs, not so gratefully this time.
     And what the albushmurkee was that floating above Crockett’s head? It looked like a weathered wooden ammo box ~ descending from Heaven ~ perhaps carried by a couple of invisible cherubs ~ and finally placed at Crockett’s feet! A breeze carelessly caressed his cheek. And ye olde settler felt so mysteriously meek. What, in the name of Saint Pete, was going on here?
     “Looks like you got Special Delivery, Davy,” announced Frank & Joe Hardy, a resident of Veterans Campus who had 2 first names. He happened to have been strolling by in his church clothes when the box landed. Now he stood along side Crockett peering dubiously down at it. On the top of the box, which was oblong, these words were written:
To: Davy Crockett Reincarnated
From: Angelic Lulu
     “Yeeeap, that’s definitely Special Delivery,” said Hardy.
     Crockett had nothing to say ~ which you might call “speechless.”
     “Well, you going to open it? It’s addressed to YOU,” said Hardy.
     Crockett squatted, undid the simple latch & lifted the lid, which had squeaky hinges. He stood back.
     Inside were two stone tablets with writing on them.
     Crockett gulped. Strange memories began stirring the biscuit mix in his brain, but he wasn’t quite sure what was frying.
     “I am the Lord your God. You shall not have strange gods before me,” read out-loud another resident who went by the name of Gon Weeners & who had approached out of curiosity & had been standing there for some time.
     “My God,” said Hardy. “That’s the 10 Commandments! You just received the 10 Commandments from Heaven, Davy!”
     Crockett scratched his head and had a sudden urge to run away but didn’t. “Destiny,” he mumbled.
     “Wha?” chorused Hardy & Weeners & about 7 or 8 more residents in their church clothes & rags, who had curiously gathered around.
     Crockett looked up & beheld that he was surrounded by homeless dry-drunk & abstaining crack-head military veterans who were all never-do-wells & of absolutely no account.
     “It’s my destiny,” explained Crockett in a voice many many miles away. He blinked. “Why should you fellers care? Why don’t you all leave me alone?”
     “Yeah, but, but you just received the 10 Commandments from Heaven!” said Frank & Joe Hardy, who, you may remember, had two first names.
     “It’s a miracle!” added Gon Weeners.
     There were roughly 30 residents of Veterans Campus gathered around now. That’s about half the people who lived in the place, which, incidently, was a spread-out 100-room ex-motel that had been partially refurbished by other homeless veterans who had come & gone.
     Anyway, the residents began voicing their opinions resonately, until finally one of them, Michael Jackson, a buff unemployed boxer from Boston, said, “Whahhh don’t yuh jus’ go to a skoo somewheh & hang ‘dem ‘dings in duh fwont of a classwoom n’ be done wit’ ’em, Davy?”
     “Wha?” said Crockett.
     Jackson repeated himself, more or less, and did so about 3 or 4 times.
     “That’s a good idea,” said Crockett. He tossed his cigarette butt into a nearby tin can & lifted the two tablets, which were made of Sinai stone, out of the box. “Here,” he thrust the stone tablets at Jackson. “You do it.”
     “Davy, hold on!” spoke-up Hardy. He extended one hand in a pleading manner. “They were delivered to you, so YOU should do it.”
     “Yeah, damn democrat,” said Weeners, who was republican ~ a damn republican.
     Now there were about 50 curious residents gathered around here. And they all started voicing their opinions louder & louder. And they all had the same opinion, that is, that Davy should hang-up the 10 Commandments in a Wilson Middle School classroom, which could be found nearby on San Pedro Avenue.
     “And we’ll all go with you to make sure you do it right,” declared James Praitoree a French immigrant from Texas. His sidekick, an artist also from Texas, Wil Gauguin, slapped Crockett on the back & hollered, “Let’s go, patriots!”
     All the suddenly God-fearing homeless veterans pushed out the gate before them the dubious Davy Crockett, who verily verily reluctantly cradled in his arms the Laws of Almighty Jehovah ~ and without signing out ~ alleluia alleluia!
     Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna (Remember the Alamo? Remember who led the Mexican army that killed all the defenders of the Alamo?), reincarnated and 2nd in command at Veterans Campus, came running out of his office hollering, “Hey! Banditos! None of you signed out! You’re all getting extra doo-teeeeeee!!!”
     Santa Anna’s words bounced off the neo-empty walls & faded away ~ so much mulch in the wind.
     Carmelita Granada, 1 of 2 worried women staying at the campus, caught up to Crockett at the head of the marching column, down the sidewalk a ways. She handed him a coonskin cap & long-barreled flint-lock musket. She said, “These also were in the box from Heaven. But nobody noticed.”
     “Thank you, Carmelita,” stonily said Crockett as he shuffled along. He handed the 10 Commandments to somebody else & donned the cap & hoisted the musket.
     “This too.” The little Latina pulled from around her neck a dangling powder-horn & gave it to him.
     “And this.” She poured several small lead balls into the palm of Crockett’s hand.
     “Here’s some more,” she almost whispered as she poured some more into his other palm.
    “Thank you, Carmelita.”
     “Good luck, Davy.” She then took off back to the compound. All the marching men noted that Carmelita seemed pretty plump these days, which was kind of strange for a woman who claimed to be of the 3rd persuasion. Never-the-less, she was a cute little stinker, they also noted, as waving “adios” she flurried by.
     The ringed tail of the coonskin cap on Crockett’s head swayed back n’ forth in such away now, baby, now, that all the homeless veterans marching behind this crown of the column, couldn’t help but burst out in jubilant song. And as the swinging raccoon tail kept the beat, this is what they sang:
“Off down the street
he’s sneakin’ along ~
Gettin’ all embarrassed
as we sing this song ~
He’s gonna show em’ what’s right
so they won’t do wrong ~
An’ he’s startin’ to shine
as we spirit him along ~
Davy Crockett ~
King of the wild frontier!”
     San Pedro Avenue led them to the back of Wilson Middle School, where they brutally broke down the fence, continued marching & singing across the athletic field, then ferociously smashed in the door to a classroom bungalow. It was, indeed, an ethereal Sunday morning.
     Then, after they solved a few complications, and then, after too much ballyhoo, and THENNNNNNN, Crockett hung-up the 10 Commandments in the front of the classroom.
    “There!” said he.
     They all hurrahed and forgot to pray.
     On their way out of the bungalow, a young police officer, standing tall & square in their path, pulled his revolver and… Davy Crockett realized he hadn’t loaded his musket yet… and the perfect knee of Angelic Lulu suddenly, explosively, was illuminated in his memory… as the cop shot him in the forehead ~ a bull’s eye.
    “You’re all under arrest!” baritoned the cop.
     Fifty homeless veterans stood still ~ still and silent as death.
     The mass media of the United States, AND OF THE ENTIRE WORLD, grabbed the ball and ran with the story. A subsequent tumult of debate led to legislative change in Washington D.C. It became legal to hang the 10 Commandments in the front of every classroom in the public schools of America ~ as long as the Bill Of Rights was hanging next to them. After that, with these two origins of law glaring back at them, the young men & women in the classrooms of the #1 super-power bully nation of the planet, knew exactly what their rights were, & what was right, & WHAT WAS WRONG.
     Meanwhile, women of all ages all over the country became infactuated with homeless veterans, because of the handsome way the residents of Veterans Campus had helped Crockett fulfill his destiny ~ as reported in the media.
     But before all that happened, there was Davy Crockett Reincarnated’s funeral. They held it in the little park that James Praitoree & Wil Gauguin had just built & planted in the middle of the asphalt parking-lot plaza of Veterans Campus.
     In the middle of Crockett’s funeral, a helicopter piloted by Russ Hyder, an ex-resident of the campus, landed next to the park. And out stepped U.S. President George W. Bush, on a break from his avengement of September 11th, 2001.
     The President’s eulogy to The Beloved American Folk Hero Who Saved The United States From Hell, was quite touching. And when the President hung the Medal of Honor on the coffin, more than a few veterans cried.
     Especially Andrew Jackson Reincarnated. He fell apart. He howled with grief & sank to his knees & wrung his hands.
     “I should have never stopped him from becoming mayor!” stormfully, sorrowfully, sobbed Jackson. “My God! I was so cruel to this man who was born & born again an American folk hero! Please, oh God! Please please forgive me for my lying, my jealousy, my two-faced back-stabbing bull-shit!”
     “Here, here, Andrew,” murmured Santa Anna Reincarnated, who was standing next to the kneeling Andrew Jackson who was also Reincarnated. Santa Anna leaned over & quietly said in the old man’s ear, “You’re a good hombre. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Angeles del cielo!”
     Santa Anna tried to lift Jackson to his feet but Jackson would have none of it. The old codger flailed his arms in the air and, still on his knees, desperately reached for Crockett’s coffin, which was too far away for him to touch, and on top of which, incidently, royally sat the regalia of Crockett ~ his cap & his musket (somebody had unscrupulously stolen the powder-horn). With steaming melting glaciers of guilt gushing down his reddened cheeks, Jackson blubbered, “So much more apt would it have been if You, oh God, had taken I, this piss-ant fricking pig, rather than have killed America’s favorite living breathing folk hero ~ Davy, Davy Crockett!”
     The old man collapsed to the ground, shaking spastically.
     Santa Anna knelt down on one knee beside him, patted him on the head.
     “Andrew! Andrew!” T’was Carmelita Granada calling as she ran from her room, carrying a bundle in her arms, heading for the prostrate old man. Weeners was right behind her. Remember Gon Weeners, the republican?
     Carmelita knelt on both knees next to the distraught, disheveled, disgusting Andrew Jackson, who was lying face-down on the ground, eating tender blades of grass.
     “Look! Look! Andrew!” Carmelita partially lifted a blanket from her little bundle, trying to show the beleaguered Jackson what was inside. He finally lifted his head, and thru red red eyes he saw.
     T’was a baby boy ~ fresh out of the holy womb!
     Gon Weeners stood tall behind the kneeling Carmelita. Apparently he was the father. He turned to the crowd. “We’ve been married for sometime,” he confessed, afire with pride.
     “This is quite a funeral,” said President Bush to a brand new acquaintance. “I’m very very touched, Frank & Joe.”
     “It is truly an event to remember, isn’t it, Mr. President?” beamed Frank & Joe Hardy.
     Andrew Jackson, with green drool trickling out the corner of his mouth (due to eating the grass), smiled at the baby. The old general & president from the Antebellum Days of America then turned to the baby’s mother. “I thought you were a lesbian, Carmelita,” said he.
     “Shut-up!” said Carmelita. “And wipe your mouth!”
    The baby was damp & bald & pink. His eyes were tightly shut. And drool was trickling out the corner of his mouth too, but it wasn’t green. It was more of a ~ well, nevermine what color it be.
     Andrew Jackson, still lying on the ground, but on his elbows now, like he was at a picnic instead of a funeral, fawned over Carmelita’s baby. Jackson expansively grinned & chortled, “So tiny!”
     Then the little papoose opened his eyes. They were depthless ~ full of flashing stars & planets & winking blinking black-holes ~ and angels singing scripture & other assorted divinities humming in harmony. Aye, like all baby eyes that open for the first time, these eyes were infinitely filled with what many ancients knew & what many of us have forgotten ~ EL BARDO! And these eyes stared right back at Andrew Jackson.
     Then, and then, amazingly, with a tiny voice the infant spoke, “I’m back, Andy. There’s no rest for the wicked, huh?”
     “Wha?” said Jackson, his spine suddenly a-tingle.
     “I’m Davy,” said Carmelita’s infant. “Davy Crockett. Reincarnated again!”