NDA Day in NFL!

DATELINE: Brown’s Grade, AB Positive

sample! Not for Player Use!

Quiet!  Shhhhh!  The big secret of the NFL is the notorious nondisclosure agreement, aka NDA. You may remember that little bitty from Donald Trump crying about Stormy sex crimes. Your Non-disclosure agreement puts you in the high chair.

if you molest someone by grabbing genitals, you simply pay the victim a large sum of money to keep his or her mouth shut with a small stocking stuffer. NDAs are the ways to go.

That’s how you play footsie with a wide receiver.

Grabbing genitals is congenital in the NFL. But an NDA saves the day!

If you cry havoc, cry rape or cry wolf, you may have an x-rated Xmas while the gridiron is hot!

Short of murdering people on the streets of Boston in the manner of Aaron Hernandez, you could probably get away with quite a few garden-variety crimes with a few golden nuggets in your pocket party.

Don’t be stopped at a red-light zone by police for soliciting sex at a massage parlor!  If you keep the bare rumpus in your home, you can keep the victims quiet by throwing large wads of cash on their bare bodkins.

Your signing bonus is primarily a tool for legal expenses in pro football.

Fear not, rapists or child abusers, there is a kill-fee awaiting at your favorite David Pecker-run tabloid.

We know NFL players are paid beyond normal pay-scale and most have water on the brain, so quantitative quantum finance means loads of non-disclosure agreements. That way the NFL never can hear about what might cause suspension, investigation, or exempt status.

Your next super bowl will be held in the toilet bowl.

 

 

 

 

Put Out APB Fashion Police on AB!

DATELINE: All Points Bulletin on Antonio Brown!

 AB & NDA in NFL

If you thought the New England Patriots were immoral and unscrupulous, you surely are not surprised that Antonio Brown is laying on a thick residue of scandal on the beleaguered franchise. Even worse, he wore a notorious short suit in hideous design to the game.

Brown’s goop is knee-deep—ranging from Kraft’s massage parlor problems to an artist who came to paint a mural in Brown’s home and found the star walking around in his short suit birthday suit.

Is anyone shocked nowadays? How quaint that must be.

Only a Victorian throwback would find the Bill Belichick approach a shock to the system: money & ratings move the team’s off-field antics.

Yes, the Patriots have found a way to rekindle interest in their boring team. They had grown into old-hat, like the Yankees in the 1950s, standing too pat, losing interest even from fans. They were your grandfather’s bowler hat and Fred Astaire’s top hat.

Now, they have enlivened up the entire NFL season, which is built on the sandy castle of money. It shifts, and it is a porous foundation for anything permanent, except a gaudy Super Bowl ring around the toilet.

Football games are violent, scandal-ridden and off-limits to normal human civilizing influence. You may break an arm, have you clavicle broken, develop water on the brain, but it’s all for the entertainment of men with testosterone deficiency that undevelop every Sunday afternoon.

The Patriots have found a sure-fire formula to bring in fans and more money than ever: Gronk may be gone, but long live the boorish mean-spirit of AB. From A to B, you will have more alphabet soup than any spelling bee deserves.

We begin to wonder how many non-disclosure agreements there are in the NFL among players: Start singing the ditty: “you’ll never know.”

You can pour your soup into a saucer in New England, as long as there is no chowdah involved. Sip slowly with adequate slurps: with other teams collapsing all around, New England is on the road to the Super Bowl.

Move over, dead spirit of Aaron Hernandez

 

 

Time & Again Machine

DATELINE: Wells Novel on Screen Again

 Guy Pearce face-off with hologram enacted by Orlando Jones!

 

Back in 2002, forty years after the original classic George Pal movie, there came a remake of The Time Machine, based on the H.G. Wells classic.

This time the stalwart hero is Guy Pearce, and the story once set in London during the Victorian Age with an American as the time traveler, is now set in New York with an Austrailian as the American scientist. It doesn’t matter much as Guy Pearce is so brilliant, humorous, and always watchable. His rebel scientist eschews hats and wears his long hair greasy. It is quasi-Victorian, but totally Hollywood.

The film’s best moments are its paeon to the earlier film and story. As if to underscore the homage, they have brought Mr. Ed’s Alan Young out of retirement to play a cameo. He was one of the stars of the 1960 version.

Our favorite moment is when Orlando Jones shows up as a hologram at the New York Public Library who can tell us about the earlier movie, the Wells novel, and can even sing a tune from the bad musical version of the same.

The time machine itself is a Rube Goldberg mess that looks worse than the one used in 1960, and one character even calls it a “cappuccino maker.”

The impetus for time travel is, of course, the unfortunate death of our hero’s girlfriend. He goes back to fix the problem but discovers that you might go back a thousand times, but her death will occur every time, however differently.

The interesting travels through time also takes us 802,000 years into the future when the planet has clearly gone through some ice ages and re-growth. It is interesting that the evolving of humans seems minimal. You can blame that lack of insight on Wells, not the movie.

All in all, this old-fashioned and fun movie plays with the subject and our memories of it. It’s hard to believe that it was almost twenty years ago that it escaped our attention.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

John Wick: Serial Killer or Mass Murderer?

DATELINE: Kill Count Around 200?

Keanu with Anjelica.

We just had the pleasure of watching a film that is the epitome of political incorrectness in America after a half-dozen shootings in society. John Wick: Chapter Three Parabellum is a violent satire of gun use. At least, we think it is meant to be funny.

Para bellum is Latin for “prepare for war.”  It is only one of several high-toned touches of art and culture in a brutal shoot’em up. We did not have our clicker with us, but we believe Wick kills over 150 people, one at a time. It causes the movie to run for a full two-hours and have credits that will feature keanu’s chef.

Keanu Reeves has now appeared in three of these sagas, his big money-making series. At 55 he is giving contemporary Tom Cruise a run for old age. We cannot imagine how he can run, jump, kill, and duck endlessly and never be out of breath. And, he is shot and stabbed on more than one occasions.

You know that Wick is dangerous when he kills an assassin in the New York Public Library—with a book. And then puts the bloody tome back on the shelf.

The film is a series of set pieces of mayhem. It seems everyone in the world is packing heat—and most of those are hired guns. No wonder we have shootings every week. It’s part of a movie fantasy world.

Among the high-brow stars is Anjelica Huston playing The Director, some kind of Russian oligarch balletomane who runs a dance company like she’s a female Diaghilev. Also on hand for chuckles is Ian McShane and Laurence Fishburne. Don’t worry about your stars being killed off: they will need to return for the fourth entry (yes, it is clearly coming).

In the meantime you can wonder about the brilliant choreography done by Reeves, and then there are outlandish set scenes like a swordfight on motorcycles.

We want to say the body count is quite high, but we think more panes of glass were broken than any other kind of vandalism. There isn’t a window in which someone does not put his head right through.

We also see plenty of blood splatter as heads are blown away with armor piercing bullets when a sword through the eyeball is not handy.

We haven’t seen this high a body count since Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood went Where Eagles Dare, killing Nazis.

 

 

 

 

Third-Eye Spies: Remote Viewers

DATELINE: Alphabet Soup, NSA, CIA, DIA, KGB

The CIA declassified 70,000 top secret items recently on its 25-year program on Remote Viewing. Third Eye Spiesis a documentary film about a controversial subject, even today, let alone the 1970s.

After it was learned that the Soviets were actively seeking a psychic weapon in the Cold War arsenal as a 1970s spy mission, to create an bureau of paranormal viewers who could “see” anyplace in the world that was needed to give reports to the United States. The CIA, at first, merely wanted to discredit the subject, but found it could not.

There is more than ideomotor at work in the universe, Horatio.

Jimmy Carter, then president in 1979, learned of one psychic who located a missing plane that the Air Force recon could not find. She gave latitudes and longitude to its exact location. It convinced everyone.

Before that, a group of physicists (Russell Targ, Pat Price, Kit Green, and Ingo Swann) were members of Sanford Research Institute, the foremost research group in the country. They kept their autonomy and refused to join MK-Ultra, the CIA LSD program of the era.

Their experiments had to be kept secret for fear that government funding would be ceased if such a “crackpot” notion were to become known in Congress.

No one dares to speak the name “séance” because it would have sent chills into the program and ended any serious study of parapsychology. But what you had was a group of gifted people conducting seances (without contacting dead people), at least for the record.

Swann, a gay man, was the purest of all the psychics and mediums. Not only was he a painter of mystical art works, but he could look anywhere in the universe. He reported there were rings around Jupiter years before they were discovered. It is called paraphysics nowadays—that there are rules of universal and natural law that are trans-dimensional.

Dr. Pat Price, the best of the clairvoyants, died under mysterious circumstance in Las Vegas in 1975, but it was swept under the rug: surprise. He was able to find Patty Hearst when the FBI came to him—and two years after his death, they learned that he had described a Soviet nuclear device to shoot down American satellites.

One of their contacts at CIA was often referred to as the American Mengele, Dr. Sid Gottlieb who ran the most covert LSD and medical experiments then done. And, surprise of surprises, Uri Geller, famous entertainer, worked as a double-agent for several governments, providing literal insights.

This film cannot be viewed normally, as it is clear that disinformation and discredit is heaped everywhere by former KGB agents and the CIA, which have reason to obfuscate the results. In the United States, Robert Gates leads the big bonehead opposition. On the other hand, mystical astronaut Edgar Mitchell found answers in new perspectives.

Once again, we have a look at a paranormal, or paraphysical world, that fails to take into consideration communicate with trans-dimensional beings, whether they are space aliens, or dead people.

Remote Viewing has enough problems without tying its wagon to seance.

 

 

 

 

 

Trump’s Mantra: “Off with their heads!”

DATELINE: Trump as Queen of Heartless

If you remember your literature, you know it was the queen of Hearts that constantly solved all royal court problems by shouting, “Off with their heads.”

It’s now the mantra of the Trump administration.

If you cross the President, he wants you fired. There’s nothing new in this as he made it his tagline on TV where he starred as a buffoon in an American business satire.

Now he has taken the royal pledge of vindication to new heights, or depths. He has now started to emulate the Queen of Hearts, sending out his Mad Hatter, Wilbur Ross, secretary of commerce, to threaten to fire weathermen for saying a hurricane is not imminent.

Imagine! You are fired for doing your job. “Off with their heads,” and their paychecks. It is nothing new under the rainy reign of Trump.

Thousands of Bahamians have lost everything in Hurricane Dorian that nearly missed Alabama, but Trump won’t give them aid or assistance. They have lost their passports, and now he wants their heads on a silver platter. Let them die in misery is his motto.

“Off with their heads,” we expect that slogan to echo through his campaign rallies to come. Political opponents? Off with their heads! Musicians wives? Off with their heads! Media journalists? Off with their heads.

We can hardly wait for the worm to turn, and have the Congress vote for impeachment while shouting, “Off with his head!” That would make us a wonderland of a banana republic, which seems to be Trump’s fondest wish.

New England Patriots Blow Up Twitter and NFL!

DATELINE:  2-Headed Monsters!

First Rosey Grier, Now This!

Once again, the New England Patriots have turned this blogger into Al Pacino in Godfather 3.  Every time we try to get out, they pull us back in.

This marks the second, or perhaps third, season we will not do a Patriots book on the season: main reason is economic, mostly because Patriot fans can’t read and don’t buy books. The other reason has to do with personal sanity.

Not since Rosey Grier and Ray Milland played one man with two heads have we seen anything as horrific. It was 1972, and the movie was The Thing with Two Heads!

And now Bill Belichick and Tom Brady have done the impossible: they have doubled the combustion factor on their Super Bowl team. Perhaps they like challenges, or perhaps they are fire bugs. The horrid monster of Belichick & Brady has found a mate.

Tom Brady is about to pour kerosene on top of the two most flammable players in NFL:  Josh Gordon and now Antonio Brown. These Bobsey Twins could bring down governments if they were involved in Brexit.

They would be hurricanes that would defy Category 5 and find themselves the objects of Trump’s madhouse White House sharpie.

Indeed, we expect a presidential tweet pardoning anyone writer who sets the tandem on a course to blow up records of pass catching and yardage.

Since Bob Kraft is owner of the Patriots, you might be a cynic and say this will permanently prove that there is no video of Kraft in a massage parlor, as it has been destroyed in an explosion of Tom Brady inflated footballs.

This makes Deflategate look like inflation pumped up to extremes that the football will look like the Goodyear Blimp in the endzone for Patriot fans.

We may now watch a few games after this Near Earth Object/asteroid crashes into Planet Foxboro.

 

While England Collapsed

DATELINE:  Boris Bad Enough?

 Boris Brexist

If watching the British version of Trump has any productive value, the nitwit of England, Boris Yeltsin Johnson is going down the tubes. His government is crumbling on national TV. The usually civilized Brits have painted themselves blue and are on the tribal attack, not seen since the Romans found it necessary to build Hadrian’s Wall.

Brexit’s wall is something akin to Trump’s wall, via Hadrian the Emperor (he was the guy who made his boyfriend a god).

We are now learning our history and not from the History Channel where we thought everything was a conspiracy of ancient aliens and golden treasure hunters.

It now appears that the British constitution isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. For a thousand years, politicians in England have trusted the goodwill of politics, which now seems naïve at best. There is no written constitution in Britain, and that is certainly not what keeping  the Trumpian term  “great” in Great Britain.

Indeed, Trump has wondered if England will ever be great again, or if it will continue to sleep the fitful nightmare of a leader with a massive flow of hair that indicates hyperbole lives even in the land of Queens.

TV ratings on the popular TV show about a great British bake-off have gone south. The big climax is a contest on making cookies (which the Brits call biscuits) while the government crumbles.

You can expect America’s great stable genius and expert on everything with his theory of know-nothing to enter the fray and make matters worse. It will be the red-coat revenge for Yorktown’s surrender.

 

Dangerous Hunting Game

 DATELINE: Richard Connell Classic

 Fay Wray Sees Something!

If you are looking for the prequel to 1933’s King Kong,you will have found it with this first major adaption of Richard Connell’s famous (or infamous) story called The Most Dangerous Game.

Right from the opening credits, you will recognize the style and tone of the classic big monkey movie. That’s for a number of reasons: foremost, the producers of the Kong and Son thereof films honed their approach to the topic with this classic.

You have the basic premise of a sea captain taking his ship and passengers out into remote and uncharted waters where lurks an island with mystery. It almost seems like the same prologue to each film.  Officers are concerned with strange locales not on maps.

Instead of Bruce Bennett (or is that Cabot), you have interchangeable leading man Joel MacRae as the resilient young adventurer. When he is washed up on the shores of a strange island, he meets none other than Kong’s leading lady, Fay Wray, who is also stranded there with her brother, played by—you guessed it—the man who gave us the Eighth Wonder of the World—Robert G. Armstrong (not Carl Denham this time, but a ne’er-do-well with the same personality).

They are the guests not of a giant gorilla but of the King of the Island, General Zaroff, (played in slimeball style of the 1930s by Leslie Banks). It seems he has a strange fetish: he likes to hunt big game that is truly dangerous, like people. Back in those pre-Hitler times, he was not a Nazi, crypto-Nazi, or neo-Nazi, but some kind of twisted member of the aristocracy.

With its chase scenes through the jungle, the pounding music, and the production values of Merriam C. Cooper, you have a sense of been-there, done-that, from the next year version of King Kong.

It is a delight to feel the similarity, and you keep wondering where the dinosaurs are.

 

Shatner Show Tackles Remote Viewing

DATELINE: Brain on the Download

  

If irony lives, it is in the form of William Shatner hosting, forty years after Leonard Nimoy, a TV series about the unexplainable. It’s called inexplicably, The Un-Xplained.

In this week’s intriguing episode, Shatner asks about the capability of the human mind, and one of the concepts is “remote viewing,” or what we may have called the medium’s channel: séance.

Science has christened séance as a purely scientific endeavor, not paranormal.

Taking it out of the supernatural realm, the notion of remote views tells us that the mind—and gifted people—can see other places, other times, and collect data that is both historical and futuristic. We are aboard, Captain Kirk. Let’s go where no man has gone before.

We have been postulating the theory that we are not reincarnations of trans-dimensional beings, but that trans-dimensional beings channel us to see the world they once knew and receive updates on the human condition. It is one step beyond being a zoo specimen for those of us who are the orbs of another world.

Among the brain issues examined during this intriguing hour episode, we discover acquired savant syndrome—in which a man received a bump on the head, soon becoming a concert pianist without ever showing interest previously.

Remote viewing was shown to work in solving crimes by Los Angeles police, and used by the Pentagon first during the Iranian hostage crisis of 1979. It was a means to identify people and their treatment while in captivity. Nothing was drawn to parallel séance—except to note that remote views have occurred in certain individuals for thousands of years, giving them an ability to see what happened at great distances at greater times. Soothsaying by another name?

Quickly moving toward the concept of downloading brain information, the show glossed over moral issues and whether a computer version of your brain would have consciousness.

Indeed, there seemed to be an opinion that the brain was wired to outside forces, like an Internet of the universe, tied to wormholes and other dimensions.

We have pondered whether remote viewing is a two-way street. Can the conscious entities of the past (trans-dimensionals) be looking at the world through us.Are we the channel for them?

Perhaps they see us as a spirit orb in their dimension, just the way we see them here and now.

 

 

 

 

Astrology Over Astronomy for Ancient Aliens

DATELINE: Return to Oak Island

   Crossover Taylor!

It’s Labor Day weekend, and Ancient Aliens is about to wrap Season 14 with its 13thepisode on how a “Constellation Code,” may prove that aliens gave secret information to humans through messages in the stars. This also is another misleading episode, differing from  the one advertised for showing all week.

For several weeks Ancient Aliens has engaged in some bait-and-switch tactics when it comes to keeping the contents of the new release private. Again this week, the episode is not what they claimed it would be:  why? The series may be more secretive than the National Security Council of the Trump Administration.

Well, if Ancient Alien theorists are to be believed, our academic intelligentsia is about as dumb as the rocks they cannot turn over. Though many scientists debunk the fortune-telling that comes from reading the stars to predict the future, Ancient Aliens revels in it.

Now, they say the mirror effect that puts star constellations as part petroglyph buildings and monuments is proof that aliens gave early culture a heads up about who they were and where they came from: two places seem to be the most frequently copied on earth as ground-level star maps—and these could be the origins of alien life that seeded earth.

They even trot out Travis Taylor’s visit earlier this year to Oak Island (featuring the Lagina brothers) where he showed how the island is actually a place with key stones aligned that are stars in the heavens. What does it all mean? Why is this evident? He has no idea.

Robert Clotworthy’s voice-over is on familiar ground this week. He almost seems to be doing a promo for the upcoming season of Curse of Oak Island.

Giorgio visits Italy to look at monuments that again seem to indicate constellations in the night sky. The only reason for this, the theorists insist, is to show that ancient people knew their gods were actually space creatures. They even go one step beyond this twilight zone to say 90% of people know their zodiac sign, more proof that the message “we are not alone” is writ big in the sky.

Every Act of Life: Terrence McNally

DATELINE: Surviving Show Business

 Terry McNally & Eddie Albee back when….

In all my connections to Broadway writers, Terrence McNally never came up much.

Now James Kirkwood would talk about everyone in show biz! We gossiped about them all. Yet, there is no memory of him mentioning McNally.

Oh, they knew of each other: gay writers winning friends in great theater. Kirkwood certainly knew Edward Albee who was McNally’s first important boyfriend, but McNally may have been too openly gay for Jim Kirkwood. It’s the only conclusion to make.

Every Act of Lifeis a documentary on the life of McNally who worked with every actor imaginable since the death of Jim Kirkwood in 1989, and that may be the survival of your reputation in show business. Richard Thomas, Nathan Lane, Rita Moreno, F. Murray Abraham, Angela Lansbury, all share memories of their careers and personal ties to McNally and his funny and varied plays.

All Jim’s closest actor friends, like Sal Mineo, are long gone. One young writer once said to me: “Wow, I didn’t think any of Kirkwood’s friends were still alive.”

McNally survived, though people like Robert Drivas, his tempestuous and exotic actor boyfriend after Albee, died of AIDS in 1985 in the first wave of notable show business deaths. Drivas was a closet case, and yet it was open and flamboyant McNally who still lives nearly forty years later.

There is no accounting for survival, but you have to admire it when it shows up at your door. The film on the life of McNally is likely a tonic and a fizz for gay people who need superior role models. If you die too soon, you can’t be much of a mentor. If Jim Kirkwood were here, I might say you should never have told me to write your autobiography and play coy about your gay life. Yet, he did.

McNally, had I known him, would never have said such a thing, but those plays and characters never quite grabbed like Jim Kirkwood’s creations.

Oh, it’s too late now to do much about it, but we can celebrate the life of Terrence McNally, albeit a tad on the late side.

 

Dr. William Russo wrote Riding James Kirkwood’s Pony, available in paperback and e-book on Amazon.

Un-X-splained!

DATELINE: History Channel Unchanneled

 Shat Upon a Time!

We decided to take in an episode of the new series on History that is hosted by William Shatner. it’s on the same idea of In Search of.... that starred, first, Leonard Nimoy, and last year, the Nimoy clone of Spock, Zack Quinto.

Now, we have Captain Kirk taking over a limited series.

Of course, we had trouble finding it because we thought, silly us, that the name of the show was The Unexplained. Well, that chestnut was on several years ago for several seasons.

We readily admit we were dumfounded. We could not find the show on alphabetical listing, in search mode, or anywhere. Then, it dawned on us that we know how to spell–and heaven help us, it is now a disadvantage.

You guessed it: the show’s title is misspelled (deliberately. we suspect) in order to use the word, but keep it different from other series titles. You see, they took out the “e” from Unexplained. It’s Un X plained, all one big wrong word.

That is only the start of the battle. The host is remarkable: Shatner is now pushing 90 and seems unstoppable. There is a problem because he is stuffed into his expensive suit coat like a prize stuffed turkey, ready for Thanksgiving.

He is appropriately histrionic about various issues, and his delivery would make Khan blush.

We watched the show about Nature gone mad.

The show featured segments on the fire under ground in Centralia, PA, and the idea that trees communicate through their root system, and on and on.

It was amusing stuff, and the experts looked like the cast of Ancient Aliens and their resident experts. No, Georgio wasn’t there–but Mucho Kakookoo and Taylor Travis were giving their expertise.

All in all, it’s an amusing time-killer, but we doubt it is burning up the cable wires. It will be gone after a few more episodes.

King of the What?

DATELINE: Jesus Express to Penthouse?

 A Wailing Wall!

There was a time in history when it was not a politically smart move to be called The King of the Jews. It could end your career, but Donald Trump is delighted to be given the title by a Jewish supporter: there is no word yet whether this guy is a Pharisee, or just an idiot.

Jesus found the title a little onerous when the governor of a local province took issue with it.

As for Trump, he has no worries that King Herod or his son Herod Antipas (no, not antipasto) will take umbrage. Trump thinks his political opponents are the antipastos.

 Herod, as you may recall from your history, murdered the Innocents, killing newborn babies. Trump merely puts kids in dog cages and denies them flu shots. How many die is yet to be determined.

Herod Antipas was the womanizer who like young girls, like Trump’s dear friend Jeffrey Epstein: you may recall that Antipas asked pre-adolescent Salome to dance without her seven veils—and then gave her the head of Barrack Obama, or someone like that.

So, the latest king of Israel would rather be a kingpin in Greenland where he denies he would build a gaudy skyscraper along the glaciers. He has even cancelled talks with Denmark because Erik the Red wanted Trump towers all over his island; sort of a thousand year old Green Plan.

We thought there was a law against American presidents accepting foreign titles of royalty, but no matter when it comes to Trump: he may not be president much longer if the insanity clause of the 25th Amendment to the Constitution is invoked.

Any Jew who votes Democratic is a traitor to God and Country if you hear the King of Jews in his latest tirade. Bernie Sanders, son of a Jewish immigrant, takes issue with the comment that all Jews who vote against Trump ought to be shot at sunrise by white supremacists.

Jesus denied he was King of the Jews, but Trump is not having any second thoughts. He revels in the notion that he can walk on water and change Greenland’s ice water into gold.

Trump Goes Green (land)!

DATELINE: More Folly from Trump!

greenland Look to the Top of the World!

If you haven’t heard of Trump’s Folly, you may be about to find the history repeating itself.

Abraham Lincoln’s Secretary of State was William Seward and John Wilkes Booth tried to have him assassinated along with the president, But Seward’s real claim to fame was Seward’s Folly:  he paid a couple of million dollars for Alaska .

As you might expect, the public went nuts like the participants of a Trump rally  because this didn’t make America great. You just wasted tax-payer money on an iceberg.

History has vindicated Seward.  The natural resources of Alaska more than pay for themselves.

Now someone in the Trump administration has the bogus idea that Dwight Eisenhower bought Alaska, which may be more telling about the history levels in the White House today; however, the president now wants to buy Greenland.

Erik the Red went to Greenland about 1000 years ago and saw the ice–and to market his new real estate, he gave it a fake name: Greenland.

In case you’re wondering, part of Greenland is under 2 miles of glacier, But Trump think it’s a good putting green.  For his game of miniature golf.

Greenland is presently owned by Denmark and Trump wants to make them an offer they can’t refuse .

Historians will tell you Greenland was the place where the Vikings met their end when a mini-Ice Age occurred in the 1300s.

A documentary called Secrets of the Dead tells about the lost Vikings.  Today about 50,000 Inoits live on Greenland.   There are no roads and no economy so to speak.

It’s not part of Canada but a separate island with the Atlantic on one side in the Arctic Ocean on the other .

It’s perfect for a Trump resort hotel.  If Jeffrey Epstein were still alive, he probably would want to build a little bungalow there .

So Trump’s folly maybe coming down the pike.  If we recall correctly, an iceberg broke off Greeneland over 100 years ago and hit the Titanic .

The next iceberg you see could have Donald Trump’s name on it .