D-DAY+8
I actually saw a big metal landing craft beside the highway in the middle of Nevada today, miles from anywhere, that was painted with the words D-DAY. I was out of connectivity most of the day. I wanted it that way. I figured something big would happen while I was disconnected. Turns out I was right---the revolt begins in Wayne County, Michigan. Republicans refuse to certify the elections.
This is not just people who suspect there was foul play in the election. This is people fed up with the way things have been for years and years. Everyone knows this is the chance to overthrow the tyranny they have lived under, of crime and fraud that overrides the will of the people. We are tired of it.
Across Nevada I loved stopped, going inside and interacting with people. I love this state. It's so kooky and rough, and one of kind like all states are. I have had some very interesting life-forming experiences here over the years, going back to the 1980s.
I walked along a gravel road beside a wildlife refuge north of Las Vegas on Highway 93. It was a warm sunny day. The lake was shimmering in the grassy valley. Many birds on the lake. Sounds of hunters in the distance. Music to my ears. The Fish and Wildlife service guy pulled up beside me in his truck, asked if I was ok, just walking along. I said I just wanted to breathe some fresh air, on one of the last beautiful perfect days of the season. I said thank you to him genuinely for stopping to care about me. It was so nice. He must get a lot of flak, doing that kind of job.
The woman at the front desk of this hotel in Tonopah said "I LOVE your name." I love having the name Trump and that I can bring joy to people just by showing them my id. I love all these people. I want them to live in a Nevada that is free and just and not corrupted by a machine that controls them, that makes it hopeless to challenge them in an election. The people in Nevada are long suffering. They deserve more. They deserve freedom from this. They are going to start getting it I think. It is time.
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