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A Family Tree Of Many Branches – Dukes and Witches #Bloganuary

My ancestry has, of course, many humble and hard-working folk, from farmers and tradespeople to ministers of the cloth. But it always seems more exciting to point to the historic notables, if they can be found.

Estey starts (so it seems) with the noble family of Este from Northern Italy, which ruled parts of Italy and Germany for a number of centuries. But, the branch which led to me, got into a fight with the Pope – an unwise thing to do at the best of times. For the sake of self-preservation, those Estes hoofed it to the safety of England, and ended up in some minor capacity at the court of the English monarch.

A more modern descendant of that branch had some sort of farming enterprise some distance from London. I have seen the occasional gravestone in country churchyards, taken there by a local historian. I stayed in very swank accommodations for a night, in an establishment that had been a Manor House for centuries. It is currently a grand hotel, visited by Royalty. I like to think that my ancestor/farmer sold produce to the place, following the same narrow road I took. It is now known as Hintlesham Hall. https://hintleshamhall.co.uk/

It seems that some of the Estes at the English court (or, who knows, from the branch that farmed near  Hintlesham Hall), went to America. At any rate, Esteys were there in the very late 1600s, living in Salem Massachusetts. One of them, Mary Estey, got caught up in the infamous witch trials, and ended her days by being hanged on 22 September, 1692. This was the last execution of the Salem Witch Trials.

Nineteen years later, her husband received 20 pounds compensation for her death.

Some of their descendants moved (I think wisely) to Canada.

The Murderer Of George Floyd Wrote No Notes Waiting For His 22.5 Years

The EX police officer

Of the law

Wrote furiously

Like a crazy man

At his trial.

Yellow pads

Were filled

Page after page,

Minute after minute

Second after second

Witness after witness

Word after crazy word.

Now

On his day of reckoning

He wrote

Nothing.

Not a word.

He did speak some words

Odd words

Vague words

About

“. . . some other information in the future

”  that would be of interest .”

And, it might

It might.

But

Regardless

It will be

Way too little

And

Way too late.

~ DE BA UEL

Our Fearful Trip Is Done

So

– just to be clear –

the ignorant,
spiteful,
untruthful,
selfish
bombastic

representative of

the United States

is removed.


 Part

of the
*vast* celebrations

is a

youthful

and brilliant

poet

A pretty good balance.


Biden and Harris have earned
their night’s sleep.


I’ll take the future for its weight in gold, Alex.

~ DE BA. UE

(Image) https://cdn.cnn.com/cnnnext/dam/assets/200812180303-13-biden-harris-event-0812-super-tease.jpg

Trump & SCOTUS Walk Into A Bar

panorama_of_united_states_supreme_court_building_at_dusk

~ You are being scurrilous, Mr. President.

~ What?

~ Insulting.

~ After what you Marble Palace bastards did to me?

~ Not us.

~ Then who?

~ The US.

~ What?

~ The Law, Mr. President. Of the Land.

~ I put some of you bastards in place.

~ But you can’t put the Law in its place.

~ I’m POTUS. I’m above the law.

~ Not above. Or below. Or equal.

~ I’ve got Power.

~ Not before the Law.

~ I’m the Leader. Elected by the people.

~ Before the Law, you are but E Pluribus Unum.

~ What does that mean?

~ You don’t know?

~ Why should I?

~ It’s on all the money.

Kafka And Trump Walk Into A Bar

kafka-for-president

 

{I wrote this after Donald Trump was elected President of The United States of America.  He is still in place.

Today an article popped into my news stream entitled : “Trump Has Franz Kafka Spinning His Grave”. You can find it here: https://www.laprogressive.com/trump-has-franz-kafka-spinning/

So, in honour of Kafka (and I have visited his grave), I’ll play it again, Donnie.}

““““““““““`

~ Frank. Welcome to your world.

~ Thanks, DT. I’ve been living it all my life.

~ I’ve taken some pages out of your books, Frank.

~ I did try to get them burned.

~ You didn’t try too hard.

~ Well – no.

~ You know – neither did I.

~ I know. They all ran to your tune.

~ They did.

~ You were the Pied Piper of Havoc.

~ Worked like a charm, Frank.

~ Yes, DT – yes, it did.

~ They thought I was a bug.

~ Yes.

~ But I turned them into bugs.

~That you did, DT. And turned them against each other.

~ Yes.

~ And stood back, and watched.

~ Pretty well.

~ To the victor goes the spoils.

~ I was astounded – believe me.

~ And they keep making the same mistakes.

~ I know, Frank. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so funny.

~ The one-eyed man is King in the land of the Blind.

~ Yes, Frank – yes. But you know what?

~ What?

~ I’ve got great vision in both eyes.

Trump & COVID19 Walk Into A Bar In Tulsa, Oklahoma

5999878_031020-wpvi-coronavirus-generic-from-broadcast-open-img
~ Oh – my God – Mr. President. Thank You!

~ I take credit for everything.

~ Thank you. Thank You!

~ You’re welcome.

~ Let me shake your hand.

~ Of course.

~ I suppose a hug is too much?

~ Not at all.

~ Oh. Oh. You are Death’s dream.

~ Any chance you can take out Biden?

~ Oh, I am but a foot soldier. Anyway – he wears a mask.

~ Coward.

~ I love it when you talk like that.

~ He’s keeping his distance.

~ But you don’t.

~ I got guards. No one will get closer than six feet.

~ Of course.

~ I like that – six feet.

~ Why?

~ That’s how deep they bury you. Ground Zero.

~ But aren’t you worried about your followers?

~ Why?

~ Well – you’ll lose their votes.

~ Nah – that doesn’t matter.

~ But you’ll need every vote.

~ Oh, we just get them from the graveyard, too.

So Tired of Trump Turning Tricks

trump-bible
 
 
POTUS
President of the
United States
(of America)
Has attached himself
(Like a parasite)
To the
Dragon’s Tail
Of Hate
(of America)
And rides it
For all it is worth.
 
POTUS
Panders
To the worst,
The hateful,
The haters,
Full of envy.
Miserable offenders –
All.
 
POTUS
Turns tricks
Of deceit and
Misdirection.
Stirs a pot
That bubbles over.
 
Toil and trouble.
 
POTUS
Gives lap dances,
So the envious
Will
Lap it up
And
VOTE
For more.

The Commander – in – Chief

The Commander – in – Chief decided that it would be a grand day to become Admiral of the Fleet – Lord High Admiral if he chose the hat with cockade and plume.

Nodding jauntily in the air, the plume put on an impressive display, as he either agreed, or disapproved, with a toss, or a shake, of his head. The dancing ostrich feathers would add a dashing air as he boarded his flagship and, with just the right mixture of stringent authority and well- tempered geniality, moved in imperious sweeps among the ranks of ratings on the aft deck.

He would, of course, be extra careful about the pitfalls awaiting a man with ornate dress sword and scabbard, among the steep steps and narrow companionways.

*******

Wednesday was khaki day for the  Commander – in – Chief.

It was the day set aside to remind him of the loyalty he must always retain from his men, for what was a leader without his troops? And as a treat – for really, the dull brown did not make for a very striking appearance – the would chose the tank commander’s uniform.

With its wide web belt and shiny black holster on the hip, flap unsnapped to reveal the butt of a wicked forty-five. And of course the black leather gloves, as befits a man at the controls of so much power, and the steel helmet polished to a mirror-shine.

The riding crop? Ah, the riding crop was debatable.

*****

Today there would be a parade. Massed men at attention with stiffly held rifles and fixed bayonets.

The Commander – in – Chief would have to chose carefully to represent his awesome power and responsibility. Cavalry boots are a must, raising half-way up the calf and resounding with silver spurs, steel-tipped toes and heels.

Then would come crisp black trousers, billowing majestically around the thighs, and kept up with a wide leather belt. He took care that each red stripe reaching the length of each leg was as straight as an arrow.

His blue tunic, he decided, would have only muted decorations and the minimum of gold braid entwined about his shoulders. He was – after all – a fighting general.
A civic reception is the time when the Commander – in – Chief would be on close display.

He believes he is at his most effective  when draped completely in white, save – of course – for his highly polished black dress shoes (and, in truth, he favoured white even here, but feared such footwear was a trifle effeminate). White is striking by itself, but well he knew it made the perfect background for his medals and decorations.

He has trouble deciding upon which color sash to wear across his chest, but finally chooses the emerald green – the reception is in the public gardens. He dons his silver-visored cap, and graces his bosom with the blue Clustered Palm of Valour; the diamond centred Star of Courage; the gold Pyramid of the Oaken Grove; and seven rows of bars and campaign medals.

 There are no visiting Heads of State, so he need not be too brilliant.

Trump And Death Walk Into A Bar

death-on-pale-horse-viktor-vasnetsov-248x350-1
~ Donald, you’re making my work easier.
 
~ It’s good for the economy.
 
~ Oh, I do love money. It’s great fuel for my business.
 
~ What’s good for business is good for the country. Believe me!
 
~ Oh, Donald – I believe everything you say.
 
~ You do?
 
~ Yes.  Death be not proud.
 
~ Aren’t you supposed to be on a horse?
 
~ Pestilence rode on ahead, and the other two went with him.
 
~ Scary guys. Very spooky.
 
~ Pestilence is preparing the way.
 
~ Ah, it isn’t that bad.
 
~ You know better, Donald.
 
~ Yeh. But I am a bit worried.
 
~ Why?
 
~ What if you guys kill off too many of the dupes who voted for me?
 
~ You’re afraid to lose the election?
 
~ Nah – that part is a bore. A snoozer.
 
~ Then what?
 
~ Buddy can’t buy my shit if he’s dead.

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