I had a nice little MEME all scheduled to post for you this morning. Before I could get it posted, The Speech Gods stole it. They locked it away.
The Speech Gods have unique ways of hiding the censored information they steal from us.
As you know, Mark Zuckerberg stole the Facebook idea from twins, Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss. In court, Zuckerberg was forced to pay the twins $65 Million Dollars for his little heist. (True story)
Since Zuckerberg is such a thief himself, he trusts no one. That is why he bought Hawaii. He has ten, 3-ply Copper containers the size of semi trucks located in the middle of the island. He hides in one, that is why he is as white as Anderson Cooper. He uses the other nine containers to store the information that he steals, through censorship, from people around the world.
Twitterbird, Jack Dorsey, is a different story. He did not steal Twitter. Dorsey has explained the origin of the “Twitter” title this way: “We came across the word ‘twitter’ and it was just perfect. The definition was ‘a short burst of inconsequential information, and ‘chirps from birds’. And that’s exactly what the product was.” (True story)
Well, Twitterbird Dorsey loved “All The Little Birds On Jaybird Street And All The Little Robins Going Tweet, Tweet, Tweet….until he didn’t. That happened when he decided that President Trump’s tweets were no longer “inconsequential.” Twitterbird Dorsey hides all his stolen information in a Secret Cave in The Kingdom of Moo. That is why he looks so much like Alley OOP. The Kingdom of Moo insists on a scraggly beard and the cave man dress code to this very day.
Amazon’s, Jeff Bezos, is the richest Speech God of all. Bezos owns 30,000 branded delivery vehicles and 20,000 branded trailers. (True fact)
Bezos previously paid all his little slaves $4.25 an hour and all the Amazon Smiley boxes they wanted. Tucker Carlson finally shamed him into paying the minimum wage, but he took away the perk of free Smiley boxes.
Bezos enjoys hiding his censored information in a different Amazon branded trailer each day. Rumor has it that he often jumps in the trailer and rides with the censored information. Between the drivers, that particular trailer is known as The Motherload for that day. He is like a cross between The Joker and Howard Hughes. Drivers report strange noises coming from the Motherload trailer and assorted wigs, heels, dresses, garters, thigh high hosiery,etc must be frequently discarded.
But, who knows maybe they were just damaged, undelivered Smiley boxes for Lady Gaga, Dolly Parton or Cher.
Eight-year-old Sally brought her report card home from school. Her marks were good…mostly A’s and a couple of B’s.
However, her teacher had written across the bottom:
Sally is a smart little girl, but she has one fault. She talks too much in school. I have an idea I am going to try, which I think may break her of the habit.
Sally’s dad signed her report card, putting a note on the back:
Please let me know if your idea works on Sally because I would like to try it out on her mother.
The Holy Bible promises us three score plus ten years as a life span. Having lived almost seventy years, my shelf life is knocking on that “Best Used By Date.”
I ask myself, at this point, what advice would I give to humanity?
That is the most simple question in the world to me.
Earn yourself a Clear Conscience.
That degree does not come in the form of an associate, bachelor’s, master’s, or doctoral degree.
It comes from within your heart. It comes from the acquired ability to listen, understand and forgive.
It is personal.
In years past, I have lost the most important person who has ever and will ever exist in my life, along with many others who were “runner ups” in the race.
I thank Jesus for having allowed me through life to acquire the skills of listening, understanding and forgiving. These traits have allowed me to have beautiful, humorous memories and a clear conscience.
A Clear Conscience.
Such a superb gift. A gift that only you can earn for yourself.
Get you one, before someone who you love exceeds their “Best Used By Date.”
Death leaves a heartbreak that no one can heal….But life gives us memories that no one can steal.
I have tuned myself out of politics, because they will suck for the next two years, minimum. There is always the possibility that the mid-terms may make me SMILE.
During this self-imposed period of brain dormancy, I enjoy thinking back to moments of my care-free days of childhood.
Do you remember playing Hide-and-Seek? I know you do, or you would not be reading my post.
Believe me, no young people enter Tolley’s Topics….at least, not intentionally.
But, just in case one stumbled in by accident after charging their cell phone batteries, I will explain the game.
Hide and Seek is an old and popular children’s game in which one player closes his or her eyes for a brief period (often counting to 100) while the other players hide. The seeker then opens his eyes and tries to find the hiders; the first one found is the next seeker, and the last is the winner of the round.
I am the youngest of the Tolley siblings and among the youngest in my childhood neighborhood. In retrospect, we all know the aggravation of baby-sitting “little brats,” don’t we? It may be younger sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews, neighbors, etc. Still they remain, aggravating little brats.
Well, to make a long story short, I was twenty years old (I kid you not) before my older sister confessed to me that she and her friends never actually looked for me when we were playing Hide and Seek.
I was hiding, but they were not seeking me!
That explains why they were always playing Parcheesi when I finally came out of hiding.
Since they never found me…I am The Champion of Hide and Seek!
If you were an enthusiastic Donald Trump supporter, are you ready to enter a re-education program?
Can you feel the unity?
Have you come together to bind the nation’s wounds?
Have you renounced your white privilege? Your unconscious bias probably hasn’t been eradicated in the last week, so it will need attention. But don’t worry. If you work in the federal government, you’ll soon have the opportunity—sorry, obligation—to get that fixed with a series of bias-elimination sessions. If you work for a large company, you’ve probably already watched the videos, so you’ve no excuses for continuing not to recognize that America’s foundational malignity is all your fault.
If you’re a woman, have you shared a restroom with some strapping-looking figure you’re sure used to be a man but now says she’s all female? I hope your high-school daughters are doing their part to unify the country by ceding whatever hope of athletic success they had to the new class of 6-foot-tall girls with bulbous triceps.
In the service of national unity, you should by now have agreed to welcome a new influx of illegal aliens into your community. Better yet, perhaps you’re an immigrant who’s been through the costly, protracted process to become an American citizen and are looking forward to welcoming those who opted to take the less “documented” route.
If you work in fossil fuels—maybe you’re employed on the Keystone XL pipeline—aren’t you grateful that your imminent joblessness is bringing the country together?
If you were an enthusiastic Donald Trump supporter, are you ready to enter a re-education program? You may not realize that your reprogramming is essential to the preservation of democracy, but after attendance at a series of camps led by Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and a team of journalists from the Washington Post, you’ll once again be able to contribute—civilly—to political discourse.
If you expressed doubt online about the reliability of the presidential election result, your contribution to bringing the nation together might be an interview with a pair of nice federal agents.
As a commentator on a conservative platform, I’m ready to do my part for national harmony by being de-platformed by technology companies the next time I step out of line. But if you’re that rare thing, a conservative in academia, you might want to make sure your barista skills are up to snuff, though you probably won’t be welcome in any of the Starbucks in Cambridge or Ann Arbor—or anywhere else.
After four years of hateful, divisive leadership that stoked raging enmities and fueled murderous bigotries, I hope you’re feeling the soothing balm of comity as it pours forth from executive orders, presidential declarations and the various ministries of truth that used to be news organizations.
In President Biden’s inaugural address—which in its composition and significance was reminiscent of Lincoln’s second inaugural, Pericles ’ funeral oration and the Sermon on the Mount—he emphasized that the path to national unity lies not only through our acquiescence to the Democrats’ agenda, but in a renewed communal asseveration of the truth.
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