September 25, 2023

War is imminent. No, not between the United States and Iran, but between the Christian community of nations and the Islam alliance.
Since the Middle Ages, the Muslims have been aching to take over the world, which they can only do by annihilating all of Christianity.
And now the dimwitted Donald Trump has given them cause and reason to wage a Holy War.

Mr. Trump thinks he can take out Iran anytime, given the U.S. superiority in weapons and manpower. Like always, at least when it comes to “foreign policy,” he is all wrong.
All the Muslim nations will come to the aid of Iran, foremost in their minds is, (the question) after Iran, who’s next?”
They know only too well that the invasion of Iraq was not about freedom and liberty, it was all about oil.
As Malaysian Prime Minister Mahathir bin Mohamad puts it, “Now is the time for all Muslims to unite and come together.”
But who will head the crusades? Not Richard, the Lionhearted, nor the Queen of England. Like our own Cory said, “Pesteng langaw lang ‘yan.”
No one, but no one will follow Trump’s lead – not Mickey Mouse, not Felix the Cat.
The Donald is a modern Piped Piper who will bring us all to the drink or brink.

Meanwhile, Israel warns, addressing no one in particular, that any unprovoked attack against Israel will be met with all the force that the Jewish state can muster.
In Israel, every man, woman, and child is a soldier.
Funny, but when the U.S. did a sneak attack on Iran, it was to save the world from a war freak general.
But when the Japanese did a sneak attack on Pearl Harbor – a masterful military strategy, as Tzu and others familiar with the Art of War will tell you, just like the pajama guys of Vietnam dug caves that kept the U.S. forces guessing – it was an act of treachery.
Put the Indian way “Paleface in Washington speak with forked tongue.
More firewater, chief?

The war on drugs is neither a dismal or massive failure, as both the Rasputins of Robredo and the nincompoops of Duterte would like us to believe one or the other.
But Robredo’s report is partly right. Du30, after all, promised he would put an end to the drug menace in three years, now he is asking for another three. Still, Robredo’s report was intended more to boost her political stock than ferret out the truth.

What the government needs to do is not to kill 6,000 soldiers, but capture or kill the generals conducting the war for drugs.
By the way, who is running the drug trade – the Mexican cartel, or the bamboo triad? Are they competitors, or in cahoots? Who are their links in government, if any?
I do not know of any Filipino today who can and will say no to billions. Drugs maybe, but billions?
Maybe we should just join the party and exploit the medicinal values of marijuana.
By itself, the weed jags the brain, increases the heartbeat, and makes you anything you want to become – a genius, a leader of men, a wonderful lover of women.
But in small dosages only. Otherwise, a taxi backfiring will sound like gunfire and send you seeking shelter under a bed, and the rope you are holding becomes a venomous snake.
Just stick to food, music, and sex. Enjoy!

Des and Auring Bautista celebrated their golden or 50th wedding anniversary last Friday, which reminds me of a story that I love to share each time I am asked to say a few words during reception time.
There was this high-profile celebrity couple renewing their marriage vows after 50 years of being together, and practically all of media came to interview them.
One reporter asked of the couple, in all the years they have been married, ever considered separating from each other, as many of their friends had done earlier.
“Never,” the two answered in unison, “but a thousand times we wanted to strangle each other.”
Another queried, “What’s the best part of your marriage, the honeymoon?”
“Not really, the best part is our growing old together, watching the sun set, enjoying morning walks, going to movies, and dining out, weekend sorties every now and then, and finances willing, taking a cruise or travelling abroad.”
“Made even happier knowing our kids are doing well in life and having children of their own that we love to spoil. Thank you, Lord, for all the blessings.”

Me? In my solitude, I console myself going over photos of my granddaughter, which I do with the touch of a finger.
I pray that she will grow up to be a refined young lady, brainy and smart, a captivating beauty, which I know she will be. Happily, she has the genes of the Santos, San Pedros, and the Baltazar, Bajatengs.
I can’t wait to get well from my pneumonia so I can go down to hold, hug and kiss her.
Maybe during the World Slashers International Derby at the Big Dome, and later the Pitmasters at Resorts World. He, he.
Good luck to me!