Manana, 明天, Завтра

If I have any "covert lawyers," they'd better be working on the name change from Staples to Hughes Center. Yes, I too can look cool while very tall, mostly African-American men shoot baskets so readily, isn't the final score typically 222-198, or something similar? Marlin Brando said, "I could have been a contender," but Hughes says, "I could have been a Freudian," until "they" stole my truck with about a dozen unread psychoanalytic psychiatry themed books. Humor--it's a powerful defense when you've been seething on Veterans Day over stupid "small wars" with too great a chance to become big that are sending back 27.5 percent of "The Troops" with either Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or Major Depression, not to mention unprecedentedly severe physical disabilities, because either the bad guys can mix explosives in a bathtub, or we--ahem, ahem--provide them with some to justify our American Charlemagne Complex.

The late Abbie Hoffman wanted to levitate the Pentagon, whereas I want to build Soldier Boy a new one, so he'd better not kill me, because we don't have to like each other to do business. Tomorrow, the painful humor piece, which I wrote as part of a continuing effort to, though NOT a spy, teach Rumsfeldian high school dropout soldier recruits to spy properly, if illegally, in the "Homeland."