Smoke and mirrors

July 19, 2018

Yesterday in the evening. I was seen dinning with a large landowner who is currently embroiled in conflict with a larger and meaner landowner….it must have been a tense moment as all the patrons left and it was really only two of us.

Some time latter in the evening. I received a call from the big bully landowner who demanded to know what we were talking about…..he started the conversation by accussing of planning something – I know what both of you are up too. Eventually. I was told not to get involved….for some strange reason this landowner is very nervous and unsettled.

I happen to know the MILF nurse who works for this bully landownwers physician. Infiltrated her last week… and she told me lately….these days he needs to take two instead of just one valium tablet just to fall asleep.

For some strange and inexplicable reason the bully landowner is convinced right down to the marrow of his bones that I have some power that can some how render his weaker rival invincible……it seems by just the mere fact of being publicly seen with this landowner all offensive plans have been suddenly called off abruptly.

We have now entered a state of affairs known as a cold war. In diplomatic language it is known as detente.

Actually, we were both talking about how to grow flowers without resorting to chemical fertilizers.


‘They all glare at him believing he has deadly carriers like them. You know those floating football fields that can launch war planes armed to the teeth. The curious thing is none of them have actually seen his mythical fleet….its always just over the horizon. Some can even swear they can smell their presence and occasionally on those rare occasions when a report those surface, its a confirmed sighting. But again no one can actually say what it looks like or even pin down her tonnage or gauge what sort of punch she can throw….but its there….out on the prowl like a lone wolf in the open sea.

You see the men on the table that hot afternoon all without a single exception have carriers….some even two and a few three. So they all assumed the man who sat with his imperial creme linen suit that day at the very end of the table had a carrier as well.

He spoke about hitting the here…there…and somewhere else…if they didn’t give him what he wanted. He made sweeping stabs on a large map. Raised his voice and even pointed at some on the same table that he had been more than patient…benevolent and kind, but that all this had to be reciprocated…otherwise as he said with a whispering hush…it all wouldnt be able to come around.

He had the swagger of a planter who owned at least three carriers…a man who could deliver a death blow….so was it so unusual that when the man pleaded in an almost child like tone…give me what I want and I will go away….they all relented.’

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