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When we saw the forecast for this past weekend on Wednesday, we quickly booked a room for Friday and Saturday nights in Wildwood. Even though we are headed back down to the beach in two weeks for our annual vacation, we couldn’t pass up an 80 degree day in May. The Montego Bay hotel is one of only a few that are open all year in Wildwood. It’s kind of dumpy, the staff is grumpy and the one elevator takes five minutes to arrive.
You park underneath and there is always water dripping from somewhere. It always reminds me of that condo tower that collapsed in Miami last year. The rooms are clean and the view from the 5th floor balcony is spectacular, looking out on the Atlantic Ocean. You get to see a stunning sunrise, majestic sailboats, and dolphins frolicking close to the beach.
Of course it’s easier to see when there isn’t a five story pile of sand in front of your hotel and the beach access is blocked off. It’s normally peaceful when there aren’t dump trucks and other heavy machinery operating from 6:00 am until 4:00 pm. It’s also quieter when your ghetto neighbors in the next room aren’t blasting their music at volume 11. It seems the North Wildwood authorities attempt to defeat Mother Nature every year by replenishing the beach that washes away every winter during coastal storms. So they pile up tons of sand and truck it up and down the North Wildwood beaches all spring, trying to create a decent sized beach by Memorial Day. It’s not working so well this year.
They had created a small but decent sized beach in North Wildwood, until a coastal storm washed it all away. So, one week before Memorial Day, this is what the beach looks like now. At high tide, there is no beach. They are fighting an uphill battle, and they will always lose. They spend millions of taxpayer dollars per year and it all washes out to sea every year. On Saturday we packed our cooler full of refreshments, grabbed our books (my birthday gift – The Real Anthony Fauci by RFK), and headed to the beach with our chairs. We found a tiny opening behind the sand dune with waves lapping at our feet. We sat for a couple hours, drinking our illegal refreshments, taking in the views, but not reading very much.
The lack of beaches is mostly a North Wildwood problem, as Wildwood’s beaches are quite wide. Mother Nature and the tides spare their beaches. As our economic system continues to swirl down the toilet, the money for these boondoggles will dissipate like the beach during a Nor’easter.
That night we went to Inlet on Olde for dinner and a few drinks. They had an acoustic guitar player who was good, but no one cared. No applause. No requests. We reminisced that if this was a few years ago we would be at the Shamrock watching Bill Jack perform until the wee hours of the morning. But Governor Murphy and the corrupt politicians in Wildwood forced the Shamrock out of business over bullshit covid violations and now Billy Jack is nowhere to be found in Wildwood as of today. We sure hope he gets a steady gig somewhere so we can see him again.
Checkout time was 10:00 am on Sunday, but the weather was perfect, so we wanted to hang around and enjoy it as long as possible. The temperature was 72 in Wildwood, with an ocean breeze, while it was 95 degrees and humid at home. We took a long walk on the beach and made our way back onto the boardwalk, as we planned to get some lunch before heading home. About a block from where our old condo is, there is the Douglass Fudge Pavilion where there were two empty Adirondack chairs with our names on them. We decided to sit back and take in the sights on this beautiful spring day.
This picture my wife took from our seats should have been a foreshadowing of what we would witness over the next forty-five minutes. Within a few yards of each other are Douglass Fudge and Laura’s Fudge. Everywhere you look on the Wildwood boardwalk, it is fudge, pizza, ice cream, sodas, French fries, tacos, burgers, cheesesteaks, candy, fried Oreos, fried Snickers, donuts, hoagies, zeppoles, churros, and funnel cake. Based on the hundreds of people waddling by us on the boardwalk that day, it seemed like most had consumed ample quantities of these foods and many others.
When the average person walking on the Wildwood boardwalk looks like Chris Christie, you know you’ve got an obesity problem in this country. To be honest, there were plenty of thin, athletic people on the boardwalk, but they were outnumbered by 3 to 1 by the fatties. I’m 59 years old and probably 25 pounds overweight, but I wasn’t in my twenties and thirties. The disturbing fact is how many young people are enormous. Luckily they rebuilt this part of the boardwalk with sturdier boards, so it could handle the hordes of Chris Christies sauntering on the boardwalk.
I know everyone has the ability to not consume junk food and live a healthy lifestyle, but our society is built upon mass consumption of manufactured food stuff, marketed to youngsters from the day they start watching TV. Just as the government uses Edward Bernays propaganda techniques to control the masses, these same techniques are used by mega-corporations to convince the ignorant masses to consume their products.
This obesity epidemic is produced systematically by corporations creating products that aren’t food but are sold and marketed as food. They are chemically produced crap, intended to make us sick, so the Sickcare industry and Big Pharma can sell us more products that don’t cure you, but treat your symptoms. It’s the circle of death, with a population left obese, sick and dependent, while mega-corporations are enriched.
It was about the 30-minute mark that I turned to my wife and said, “This is a freakshow”. Just then a surrey went by with some diverse passengers holding ferrets, confirming my freakshow diagnosis. Shortly thereafter two identical 50ish fat lady twins with dyed black hair of equal length and wearing the exact same clothes shuffled by, reconfirming my freakshow assessment. In addition to the waddling land whales, there were the purple hair brigade, nose, and lip piercing platoon, and of course the tattooed taskforce. Some hit a grand slam by being in all four categories.
I’m often left speechless when observing what people are doing to their bodies in the world today. When I was a kid the only people with tattoos were military guys or bikers, and those tattoos were a single symbolic tattoo on their upper arm. You never saw a tattoo on a woman in the 1960s, 70’s or 80’s. On this day it seemed like 50% of every man, woman and teen was adorned in hideous unrecognizable graphics from head to toe. My wife took this picture and the 60ish couple just happened to be walking by. It’s difficult to make out, but both of these seniors had full leg and arm tattoos. They were the classic representation of white trash.
I can’t conceptualize what makes people want to denigrate their own bodies in such a way. I think it is another example of our cultural decline. This social media ME culture, where everyone is taking selfies and posting on Facebook or Instagram, encourages the ignorant masses to try and stand out by doing things to their bodies in order to be noticeable and make an impression.
Our culture doesn’t honor people’s intellect or thoughts, but how they look and the shock factor of being more outrageous than everyone else. But, in reality, the tattooed masses are nothing but followers, doing whatever trend the crowd has latched onto at the moment. This explains their complete subservience to getting jabbed with an experimental Big Pharma concoction. They were told everyone else was getting it, so they just followed like good sheep.
I think millions of people feel like nameless, faceless cogs in the machine. They have no real purpose in life and are desperate to stand out. They are then convinced by friends or TV getting tattoos will make others think they are a rebel and will be talked about by others. Instead, most of them look pathetic and unemployable, especially those with neck, face, or head tattoos. There is nothing more disgusting than a hippopotamus with tattoos from head to toe. I believe the proliferation of tattoos is an attempt to fill a void in their hearts and minds, created by a world run by psychopaths who see people as objects to be used, milked, manipulated, corralled, and monetized.
They have been using media and technology for decades to influence and control the thoughts, emotions, and opinions of the masses through propaganda designed to keep the masses poor, indebted and doing menial jobs, while they live in luxury and splendor. The void in the lives of the masses is purposely created and it’s filled by manufactured food and distortion of their bodies. I’m convinced this freakshow we call our country has not been created by accident, but purposely by the ruling oligarchy (aka owners) as the best paradigm to accomplish their evil intentions and enrichment.
After lunch, we still thought it was too soon to hit the road, so we drove down to the rocks at 2rd and JFK Boulevard. We sat on the bench where we had left my mother a few weeks earlier so she could talk to my deceased father, as that was the bench they always sat on while watching the wave’s crash on the jetty. I didn’t realize my wife was taking a picture of me, but the shirt I was wearing had one of my favorite quotes from George Carlin: “It’s a Big Club, and you Ain’t in it.”
Since I don’t believe in coincidences, as this article percolated in my mind, I happened to watch the two part documentary of George Carlin’s life on HBO over the last two nights called George Carlin’s American Dream. It was fascinating, enlightening and highly entertaining to watch Carlin’s transformations, awakenings, growth, and the anger with our culture that drove him in his final years.
The establishment hacks who Carlin despised said he was just a bitter old man at the end of his life, but he had zeroed in on the real problems in this country and who was most responsible, and they didn’t like it. I’m convinced anyone who wants to understand what has happened and is happening in this world just needs to read the words of Huxley, Orwell and Carlin. They capture the zeitgeist of our times. I think my observations on the Wildwood boardwalk can be encapsulated in these two quotes from Carlin:
The owners have used the stupidity of the average person, created by decades of useless indoctrination in government run schools, to enslave people in debt and turn them into non-thinking consumers, who beg the owners to tell them what to think, believe, or inject into their bodies. At the end of the documentary it is pointed out Carlin wasn’t always a cynic. He was an idealist who became a cynic when he realized our society was doomed and there was nothing he could do but rage against the machine.
I’ve followed a similar path, as I began writing because I thought I could convince enough people to change our course through the ballot box. But I’ve come to the same conclusion as Carlin. This freakshow we call America cannot be fixed at the ballot box and is destined to fall. It is happening now and there is nothing we can do to stop it from happening. The American Dream is dead.
Every teenager in America should be made to watch Carlin’s American Dream monologue from 2005, shortly before his death. Carlin never lost faith in individuals, only in groups, governments, corporations, and the ruling elite. Once this tottering empire of lies falls it will be up to individuals to create something better.
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