Interview: The World’s First Trillionaire

Super Rich

As Howard gets closer, now, I stare aghast at the squirrelly little enigma of a man. I wonder how and why in God’s name he’s chosen me. Who am I, anyway? Nobody except just maybe—I’m hoping—heir apparent to Hunter S. Thompson, a man forgotten by the newer generations of label conscious go-getters, who prefer bling-a-ling rappers to John Lennon. Some Millennials or Gen-Xers might not even know who Lennon and Thompson were, much less Y they were important (while his former fans just wanna go Zzzzz.) Me? I may be old school, but I don’t eschew (hate) anything except boredom, and my clutch punchy ’87 VW. So my other interviews (not for Rolling Stone) have been pretty desperate and diverse, from talent show winners to physicists, explorers, and ComicCon geeks. Which just may explain the why for Howard. Or maybe not.
    —His age, if I had to guess, is mid forties to early fifties. Hard to confirm with the Cardinals baseball cap covering his light brown hair. (Another red herring?) His walk is an aloof gait, in no hurry for this first media exposure—which is minus any cameras, (a prerequisite stipulated by contract.) All I have is my trusty mini-recorder, which passed scrutiny by his security team here at his remote ranch house just north of Flagstaff. Of course I’d been blindfolded on the last leg, and took off the mask only to find that the high tech rust-colored metal roofed building was not unlike the one in the movie Ex Machina, at least in style and situation.
    —“Hello,” I say, stretching out my hand at last, when he comes within range of my inquisitive gaze.
    —Howard stares down at my hand as if it’s septic or something. Then he lifts his attention to my face, studying me. “Hello,” he replies with a tone as neutral as any adversarial diplomat. He gestures toward an ermine trimmed L-shaped sectional couch. I recline into the longer section, reminded of Trump’s quote: Think big, and live large. Howard, aka WFT, is forced to inhabit the short end of the L, which he does without apparent annoyance, I note.
    —“This is quite a place,” I blurt, and then add, significantly, “from what little I’ve seen of it.”
    —The statement’s irony is not lost on him, and I get the impression that nothing is ever lost on him. “I’m sorry about the unusual conditions,” he confesses. But I can see he’s not sorry. Neither am I, actually. In fact, I’m about as happy as a dung beetle on…but enough about me.
    —“Yes,” I say, taking up the lead. “And before we get started, I do have a first question for you, Howard, which can be off the record if you like. And excuse my language, but how in hell have you managed to be so secretive? And why come forward now?”
    —Howard smiles thinly. “That’s two questions, is it not?”
    —I spread my hands in acquiescence, and wait. It’s always best to wait and access…to wait and not to show one’s hand or emotions. In my case, that would be what angle and tone I might take on this story, it now being confirmed that I am actually doing this interview. Something it is too late for Howard to deny.
    —Naturally he waits, too. Only his wait feels like I’m down, and a referee is about to count me out. (Not only out of my first Rolling Stone piece, but also of any chance to revive my flagging career, maybe putting me in line at The Voice blind auditions, singing Money for Nothing.   
    —At last I feel obliged to break the impasse, with his unblinking eyes weighing heavily into mine. “Yes, okay, okay,” I admit. “So how about the first question?”
    —Howard leans forward now, looking at the shiny stone floor as if examining his own reflection. “How have I managed this,” he repeats, testing the veracity or validity of my query against whatever bizarre history he’s known to have been hiding from everyone. After a full minute he leans back, and is soon staring at the ceiling, which is festooned with long rows of dim LED lights recessed into waving brass channels that flow deeper into the interior of his ranch/fortress.
    —“I can reword the question, if you prefer,” I add. “Like, say, for example, how much of what the tabloids say about you is true, and how have you kept them and CNN from verifying any of it?”
    —Hoping to move this tension filled moment along, I hand him the list of unverified facts my editor had given me. Howard looks it over, then (with zero tension on his part) reaches into his shirt pocket and produces a list of his own. I take the wrinkled paper, unfold it, and stare down without showing any of the anxiety I feel wrenching at my stomach. It reads: (Order book)

NASA

Howard’s bodyguard. IQ: 193.

 

Why I Believe Earth is Flat

Flat Earth

A Few Reasons the earth is flat:
The Bible repeatedly describes the Earth as Immovable (Stationary), Geocentric, and Enclosed in a solid dome structure called the firmament
All images of the Earth from space are admitted to be computer generated
We’re able too see objects such as land, buildings, and boats that are supposed to be behind the curve
The North Star, Polaris, never moves and the constellations have never changed
Horizon always rises to eye level
Water is always level and it makes up 71% of our earth
The heliocentric model was created by Freemasonic Occultists
All the space agencies share the same vector logo
AstroNOT almost drowning in space
Water bubbles & Scuba tank viewed in space
Density, buoyancy, & Electromagnetism are better explanations for gravity
GoPro lenses used to fake the curve of Earth
No observable proof of evolution
Sun rays come down in angles and not parallel
Moon Light always tests colder then Moon Shade
Super zoom cameras show that boats do not go over any curve
The United Nation’s logo is a Flat Earth map
Flight paths make much more sense on a Flat Earth
All but one challenger crew members are proven to still be alive today
No genuine 24 hour live feed of the Earth from space
No actual photos of Satellites in Space
Sun dogs and Sun Hot spots
Antarctic Treaty
Admiral Byrd said that there is more land
The Michelson–Morley experiment proved the Earth is stationary
Rockets never go straight up
Bedford Level Experiment
Our own senses tell us that the earth is flat and stationary
The Sun & Moon appear as the same size
No one has ever circumnavigated the earth from north to south
The Antikythera
Sun dials
Gyroscopes
Astrolabes
No parallax with the stars
Time lapse Star Trails shows the stars makings perfect circuits around the North Star
Bolivian Salt Flats missing curvature
Sun shrinks smaller as it sets
Architects, Excavators, and Railroad Engineers don’t account for the curve
Air planes fly level and don’t account for the curve
The Selenelion Lunar Eclipse
The Analemma Time Lapse of the Sun

—-Donald Trump?

Trump

According to a Youtube video posted today, all the above items “prove” the Earth is flat. Other videos claim Trump believes it. Several tweets are shown to prove it. Note the lack of punctuation in the list above, and how the Earth is “the earth” in the title. Why is “Enclosed” in caps? Why no explanations to most of the items? Simple: they are nutjobs.

Zombie Prisons for Marijuana Users?

vape

LA TIMES) Ordering federal prosecutors on Friday to crack down on drug offenders, Atty. Gen. Jeff Sessions made clear he wants the Justice Department to turn the clock back to an earlier, tougher era in the four-decades-long war on drugs. In a memo, Sessions said federal prosecutors should “charge and pursue the most serious, readily provable offense” in drug cases, even when that would trigger mandatory minimum sentencing. Mandatory sentencing laws for drug users have been controversial for years, and many Republicans as well as Democrats now oppose them as unfair, ineffective and too costly.
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Leaked by InfoWars Prison Planet: 1) Having rejected science in favor of pseudo-sanity, planet Earth will be turned into a giant Elysium set (ie. prison.) The poor (formerly middle class) will live in squalor, smoking weed saved from the robotic Agent Orange sprayers that criss-cross the fields, making sure all crops are imbued with the “essence of Aquarius” (ie. cancer.) 2) Flogging robots will make the rounds to villages (cells), supplying punishment in the form of “cats of nine tales” (whips, chains, and speakers broadcasting updates on how work on luxury bunkers and the National Space Station for the Uber Rich is progressing.) 3) Pot smokers will be provided with an avenue to freedom in the form of a Hunger Game duel to the death. One lucky survivor will be allowed a tour of the White House and West Wing luncheon…while in shackles.       
ZombiesIn other McNews: NEN has learned that trucks reportedly carrying bombs actually contain props for a new game show to be unleashed on unsuspecting Americans called WANNABE ZOMBIES.  “These are crazed contestants who believe in the radical religion of celebrity so much that they are willing to do anything,” claims producer Mark Burnette, “including being injected with virus memes and becoming vampires and zombies.” We were unable to obtain the details about how this was accomplished, except that the contestants are all out-of-work TV addicts being cut from unemployment benefit roles (to build more bombs.) In the meantime, huckster game show hosts continue their unrelenting assault on sanity, claiming God or the Almighty Dollar (et. al.) are the best blinders to wear while singing, “if that’s all there is, my friend, then let’s keep dancing. . .”

Dubai to Build World’s Scariest Waterslide

DubaiWould you take this waterslide?  YES or NO?

NASA

“Really?”

Dubai
A suspense set in Dubai and Tucson about a drone attack on the world’s tallest building, and two people caught up in violence, kidnapping, and romance.

Guest Poet: George W. Bush

The work in here starts early.
The boss is pressed for time.
You never smell the roses.
You haven’t got a dime.
Machines are made for progress
but what you wanna bet
they raise that quota higher
until you’re drippin’ sweat.
But hey, ya should be grateful
to keep their plant on line:
they kissin’ girls in Rio
an’ sippin’ bubbly wine.
Jus’ keep that meter runnin’
you boys in blue and black,
and remember, no vacations
until you break your back.