Meghan McCain's Homeschooled Self-Hating Puerto Rican Husband Ben Domenech Cool with Trump Treatment of Puerto Rico

Photo: https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/meghan-mccain-apos-husband-blasts-185042787.html

To Ben Domenech:

It is all about the Benjamins, Ben. The money the corrupt PR politicians have siphoned off that Island since the land grab off of Spain in the Spanish American War in 1898. Your granddad or is it great granddad as Mayor of Ponce greased his pot so you could have the life of luxury with the rest of us A-Mericans on the mainland here. 

Let the people of Puerto Rico starve and suffer while they are forced to reform a system that the Republicans forced on their island and benefited from through the decades in terms of cheap immigrant like labor to the mainland even though U.S. Citizenship was bestowed on immigrants like your ancestor, the mayor of Ponce Manual V. Domenech. And don't forget his being Puerto Rico Treasurer 1930-1935 and stints as acting Governor. 

When you complain about Seth Meyers who did not give your wife a softball interview in a now deleted tweet.

“Here is proof that white men get ahead despite their obvious lack of talent. It’s @sethmeyers, who would beg for a third of the viewers at @TheView. He’s awful, untalented, and a perfect definition of a cuck.”

Why do you hate white men Ben? Ashamed of your own mixed blood Hispanic heritage? 

And believe it or not from your own publication below - the Federalist:

Democrats are insisting that American taxpayers continue to further fund Puerto Rican leaders’ additional demands. The fact of the matter is, not one more dime in funding should be sent to Puerto Rico until it gets its political house in order, either of its own accord or by the Trump administration forcing systematic change. Putting more money into a broken system won’t fix anything. Most importantly, it will only continue to hurt our fellow citizens—the people of Puerto Rico.

The real problems facing the people of Puerto Rico have nothing to do with Trump, or the Republican Party or the Democratic Party. It has nothing to do with statehood or continuing its territorial status. It has nothing to do with caring or not caring. It is about rank corruption in which the people of Puerto Rico are the victims and the corrupt Puerto Rican political class are the villains.

For decades, Puerto Rico has been governed by a patronage system centered on the 78 mayors across the island, who are truly the real political power in Puerto Rico. Many of the mayors have been more than happy to cut deals that allow them to stay in power even if it means failing to actually do their jobs, like collecting property taxes, utility bills, and fees for basic services. Current estimates indicate there is a pool of $3 billion in uncollected property taxes.

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Happy Flag Day USA 2013 - A Flag for Empire - Pac-Man Nation Flag - lol

Happy Flag Day 2013.

A new flag for an American Empire?

Pac-Man Nation Flag? - Gobble, Gobble up all the other countries of the planet and their natural resources? 

No. Just a proposed design by Robert Heft for a 51 star flag in case Puerto Rico applies for long awaited statehood. 


http://www.crowdsourcing.org/article/reddit-designs-51-star-american-flag-for-puerto-rico/21248

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The Poison Tree

When I chose the title for this short story that I wrote for my wife, I was unaware of a similar title of a poem by Wm. Blake. Can't be too original these days as all the knowledge of the world seems to be at the tips of our fingers on the Internet. Are we smarter?

Since I have been writing these cultural christian entries, I notice how many things can be broken down into the sacred or secular side of an equation. Interfaith matters touch the sacred end of the spectrum. Cross cultural matters are not at the other extreme but most definitely within the secular side of any analytical gauge of life.

Here is the story. I think it self explanatory. As always, part of the education of this person along the journey.

THE POISON TREE

Her grandfather, who had raised her, was exclaiming something loud in the back garden as we toured all the structures that now were built on the once empty patch of land.

The old man had been allotted this fairly large plot of land by the state. It had been sold to him very cheaply. I estimated the original lot to be about three quarters of an acre.

On that lush tropical landscape had once been many more trees than were now present and situated in between structures. Even so, the existing species of large trees grew avocados, mangoes and bananas. These had helped feed a large family on a state road worker's salary.

The main house was plain. Large dormitory like rooms were where the boys and girls had sleep. There was a common room or living room and a small kitchen. This structure had been built wall by wall, room by room, over the years. Extra savings went into concrete blocks on a regular basis.

The back of the property had once housed a large pig sty. Pork had been the cash crop that supplemented tropical fruits and the staple rice and beans diet. Pork had helped purchase the blocks. Piglets had been temporary play companions to poor children.

In fact, she had told me that as a child, the only dolls she played with were homemade things made of corn husks, the corn of which had fed the pigs. Corn silks adorned the corn husk dolls as hair.

The old man was quite animated.

The land now held five houses where at one time stood one.

As the nearby town grew outward, modest houses started to dot the countryside. Streets were paved. Second generations built a second story onto parents' houses.

Zoning laws changed in the expanded town. No pigs could be raised within the new city limits. Now only a few old hens pecked at the ground and made the occasional stew.

I asked for a translation. What was the old man shouting about?

Her cousin had inherited a one room house on the back of the property. He had recently married and his new bride had planted some shrubs to decorate this desolate corner of the original lot.

The literal translation of the bride's plantings came to words translated as "poison tree".

"It is a poison tree!" was what he repeated over and over again in Spanish.

The old man was upset. Everything on his property in terms of plants had been always been edible. Now, a stranger, the wife of a grandson was planting a decorative plant and not an edible one.

The old man's bubble had burst. The world outside his front porch could have changed in some measurable way over the years but it somehow had not touched a chord.

His sons had gone to college. One daughter was a registered nurse. The ones who had emigrated to the mainland had their own measure of material success in the post World War II boom in America.

He had at least thirty grandchildren and umpteen great grandchildren. All the changes over the last half a century registered in some proportion that matched the land that he stood on and owned.

Now, on this day, paradise seemed corrupted and lost. The people on the land now did not understand his vision for the land. The land must feed his family. A tree from the outside world had invaded.

The seeds of the destruction were planted. His vision, his temporary footprint in the scheme of things, was disappearing before his eyes. So he shouted in his own way.

His time had passed. Now he knew and recognized that fact.

This he expressed with great passion.

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P.S. This story is reflective of a visit to Puerto Rico in 1990. It is one thing to learn to deal with your new in-laws. It is still another to learn to deal with the situation in a cross-cultural situation. My advice is to listen and observe and try to translate both language and emotions into something you understand and feel comfortable with. Passion and how it expressed itself was something I would learn about over time.


http://ezinearticles.com/?The-Poison-Tree&id=1066528

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