Miami Drop

Miami, city of vice, Breezy just put me on the game, and told me my new girl was running the import export trade from Istanbul to Miami, says I’ve got to go undercover and bring her in, before I do that, I’ve got to read that game plan, and I’ve got to have fun in Miami, ha, ha ha … naughty …..


I’m a displaced person. Actually, you could say I’ve been displaced from a displacement, but let’s stick to the latest migratory impulse. After a titanic struggle, diplomatically speaking, I’ve arrived at a point in my business in Istanbul where I need new investment.

That means taking responsibility for another person’s money. A responsibility I wouldn’t consider unless the new prototype business model I’ve built hadn’t been developed a certain way, in the emerging market conditions in which it will have to operate.

While most of the special conditions can be attributed to cultural differences, diplomatically speaking again, quite a significant portion can be blamed on some quite extraordinary policy choices by Western leaders, who seem to me to have lost their minds, or their cojones.

And it would be easy to follow that line of enquiry all the way to the voters that voted them in, except the voters now have only the appearance of choice, where the same political product gets packaged in different ways and sold to them as new this or new that.

So the flight from Istanbul to Miami is migratory rather than immigratory, I’m displaced more by opportunity than threat, and I’m not dropping bombs or drugs or guns, I’m dropping what in the right hands can do real damage, and that is leverage. You won’t hear Pitbull singing about that, though he uses leverage every day of his life like we all do. The only difference is in the aim. This leverage has been designed with an extra long lever to shift an extra heavy weight.

This leverage has been designed to get an outsider into the White House.

Now I like Bernie Saunders. He reminds me of Doc Brown in Back To The Future. But he’s an insider who looks like an outsider because he’s not much good, he’s a journeyman who spent his 20 something years in the Congress to no great effect, he harks back to the bygone age of hippies and hope and Woodstock and smoke, and many young people yearn for the simple radicalism of those times, when a CND tattoo, a kaleidoscope, a Hendrix poster and a water bed was all you needed to get laid.

It’s so complicated now, because Old School Socialism doesn’t work. And there is something suspicious about its successor Progressive Socialism that seeks to take from capitalism what it rather likes, mostly the money, while ignoring what it doesn’t, like competition and risk. As if capitalism cheated, and deprived socialism of the startup capital it needed, so it went bust first time around. But hey, let’s pony up and go again.

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I’d have so much more fun if I called this migration ‘Journey For Bernie’ and went off in search of some decent company and a party or two. I could even have squared it with my conscience on the basis that Bernie gives his successors the Progressive Socialists a run for their money.

Unfortunately when Donald Trump entered the race last year, all those nice, cosy possibilities disappeared. According to my calculations, he was the only political outsider in America who stood a realistic chance of upsetting the status quo, getting into the White House, and fixing things.

In fact, I did my best to goad him into running, such was my conviction, and desperation.

So I’m after his money, for investment, right?

That would be stupid.

It’s shoulder to the mill for me because I’ve suffered from the side-effects of political insiders, some worse than others. If it was just the law of unintended consequences, I’d be more tolerant, but at times it appeared to be the deliberate application of cause and effect to further some chaotic agenda. Who throws radical petrol on a revolutionary fire to put it out? Perhaps the surprise when it burned out of control was genuine.

I’m after his general attitude, and I thought he was taking Third Party leverage too lightly.

In fact, from the outset, I thought he had the potential with the right running partner to win as an Independent. If he had enough money at his disposal. And under certain conditions to win with a landslide unprecedented in American political history. And I still think that. And thinking in this context is an objective comprehensive process that is nearly always right.

Which is why my Independent leverage, dropped at the right moment, had potential to move weights it had no right to, as Archimedes intended, which Trump’s leverage couldn’t. As time ran out, and the math suggested a Cruz and Kasich rearguard action would see the GOP Primary contest through to a brokered convention, Trump’s Third Party leverage bluff was losing its leverage power. And his winning streak didn’t look like it was going to be enough.

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A week after the Miami Drop, Cruz and Kasich capitulated, and the RNC chairman Reince Priebus declared Trump presumptive nominee. The establishment, even Trump and his team, are still shaking their heads in disbelief. Only Archimedes has that knowing smile. And maybe a casino magnate in Vegas, or an oil baron in Dallas. And of course Pitbull.

That required some hasty media repositioning of the campaign away from Trump leverage towards the other half on the proposed campaign ticket. And, as Tarantino would have it in his storytelling style, that will be revealed in the next Chatper of the gruesome Win Back The White House campaign, the Manhattan Transfer.

But before that, it’s rubber to tarmac, I’m in a big rig, heading to a small gig. See ya.

Arrived just another Gringo, first stop a Motel run down by Amigo, spoke more Spanish than he spoke English, 5am alarm, to catch the drop on Ocean Drive, wrong bridge, made circles in Miami Port, they must have thought I was in the game, there was this stationary car at a crossroads, made a right, it followed, to a dead end. I guess we were both lost, ashamed, I tried to stay cool, soft on the pedals, keep off the kerbs, if anyone was watching on satellite or drone, I’d made the drop while he was on the phone, after that, back on track, got to have fun in Miami …….. ha ha, ha …….. Chris Brown you set it off …….


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