Several months ago, Douglas Hughes, 61, of Ruskin, Florida, flew his self-made gyrocopter from Gettysburg, PA to Washington, DC, and landed on the lawn of the nation's capital. The Idiot Free Zone created a homage to someone we thought a hero. Hughes, then an employee of the U.S. Postal Service, was making a political statement by delivering a letter to each member of the Senate and the House of Representatives.

Hughes is the ultimate activist against the huge, unlimited, and unaccountable cash contributions involved in the U.S. election process. Hughes was arrested at the time, but was released on his own recognizance until a later court appearance.

In a recent court appearance, Doug Hughes and the prosecutor came to loggerheads. He is being offered a 9-month-plus sentence for a guilty plea. Hughes will have none of it. He insists that the action he took – although quite unusual – is still within the Constitution. The lawyers are still at it.

In the meantime, Hughes says he was fired from the Post Office, effective July 4. (It is hoped the irony was not intentional.) Hughes holds that his protest is legitimate, and that he will not accept being treated like a criminal. He had notified the press and the authorities prior to the D.C. flight. Hughes says, if they want a circus, he will supply the elephants. He is asking for vocal and monetary support from the public. Hughes and his wife have a daughter still in school. They are now on food stamps.

***** ***** *****

He flew through the Washington skies.

Nothing is changed if no one tries.

He lit on the lawn,

His message air-borne --

His countenance proud, without guise.

Here is the full size video IFZ created in his honor:

Lyrics by: Curtis W. Long

Music and vocals by: Tommy Dodson

Video by: Bob Nelson

The fabled, “Don Trump –
His own name was given,
But that name he dumped –
As would “David Niven.”

When he donned a part
For this or that movie,
With this or that tart,
The match-up was groovy.

But, Trump chose a name
For more than the drama.
His was a shrewd game
He’d play on “yo’ momma.”

The names that he chose --
“John- Miller” or “- Barron” –
Were used like a hose
Or for some “deal-squarin’.”

If you got a call
From some “John” or other,
And he said with gall:
“I’m not Don Trump’s brother,”

“But, you listen here,
“You sad-sack reporter,
“You may have no fear --
“Just write what you ‘oughta’,”

“He’ll see you in court,
“If you do not heed.
“Your funds may run short;
“We know how you’d plead.”

Another “John” spoke,
When ego was nigh.
He’d offer a poke
Toward his “boss’s” charm-high.

He allowed how “this babe,”
Or “that star” or “singer”
Could do naught but cave
For his boss, the ringer.

How strange this John’s lore,
For one newly hired --
The baggage he bore
Must needs made him tired!

But, he soldiered on
With details galore.
When one point passed on,
He’d fain offer more.

When one “John” ran out,
When “Miller” would sputter,
“John Barron” would shout:
“I’m up – here’s my putter!”

In that way, it seems,
Don always had cover
To promote his dreams:
“Look, I’m a lover.”

When questioned, years ago,
About his fake “Johns,”
He said, “Them I do know;
“They are my own, true “Juans.”

But, now, he them rejects –
“How dare you make this charge!
“This ‘Don’ himself respects;
“He’d ne’er ride on a barge!”

You see, the scene has changed.
Don now seeks to be “Prez.”
It’s not that he’s deranged;
It’s, “Do what he now says.”

The mistake is on us,
Who seek only truth.
We make useless fuss --
It’s like “Baby Ruth.”

A wrapper change’s not odd;
It’s still the same old candy.
A skillful dancer, bare or shod,
Is still the same old dandy.

So, get set folks,
Like it or not.
Here come the jokes –
Some cold, some hot.

Regarding Trump’s “Johns,”
He probably has hushed them.
Their voice was that “Don’s.”
By now, he has flushed them!

Two hundred and forty years ago, a group of gentlemen pledged their, “Lives and fortunes” to a cause that seemed insurmountable and an idea they knew, in their time, to be unobtainable. The cause was won, but the idea has had slow progress. Currently, it has reached a point that would be unimaginable to that group of founding gentlemen. Nevertheless, despite innumerable setbacks, and albeit molasses-slow, one step up always led to another in the same direction. With the election of the latest executive officer in that system so precariously founded, there are indications that that upper progression of steps could be in jeopardy.

The Founders were aware that that flowery poetry contained in the preamble to the down-and-dirty document they used to prosecute King George merely was a sop to the world in order to justify the righteousness of their perfidy. Nevertheless, it was a commitment (if they happened to survive) that was well beyond social reality for them to keep. That reality was deep and complicated.

If it were not for the crass hypocrisy contained in the beauty and promise of that idealized preamble, one might consider a certain innocence on the part of the signers, however, these were educated and enlightened men in an age denominated, as “Enlightenment.” Consciously, and at the exclusion of most of that humanity with which they would appear to have been concerned in that flowery preamble, they knew that the active principals for whom they were advocating were, simply, they, themselves.

Omitted from the political and social protections in question were all of those on the distaff side; most men of European extraction who were bereft of property; those peoples they found in the new continent who survived extinction; and those creatures of the damned extracted from another continent, to be imprisoned for a lifetime of brutal, inhumane, unpaid, personal servitude. Apparently, that little band of the enlightened was overcome by the collective mass of this uncounted and discounted humanity.

Here we are at the dawn of Century Twenty-one. After barely surviving the conflict that almost rent asunder the original compact devised by that small group dreamers, the nation has reached the pinnacle of world power. After continental and Pacific wars of imperialist expansion and two world wars, the original idea of equality and justice for all humanity had been submerged. During the past half century, notable efforts were made to rectify that wrong. That progress, although retarded, has taken a tremendous leap forward. The latest presidential election, however, has released an ominous sense of discomfiture throughout the land. While speaking and acting quite to the contrary thereof, the incoming president vows to, “Make America Great Again.” Many hear that, “Great” as “Hate.”

As an effective watchdog to any attempt to drag the nation back into that dark, rejected past, the outgoing president will remain in Washington with the national and international bully pulpit at the disposal of his ever ready rhetoric.

ARISTOTLE: Socrates, Socrates! Every time I come here, you pretend to be dying.

SOCRATES: (Startled, drowsy) Did I miss the hemlock again?

ARISTOTLE: My vision about the Greeks in that 21st century continues.

SOCRATES: What are those tiresome, future Greeks up to now?

ARISTOTLE: Well, they are still meeting in that Paris, and the so-called European collective is coming down hard on our Greeks.

SOCRATES: So, what's new? Do we get any better treatment from the Macedonians and the rest of the lower orders that surround us?

ARISTOTLE: It is pure disrespect there, in the future, Socrates. They are requiring that our Greeks submit to the very same demands they voted down, before that Paris conference.

SOCRATES: So much for democracy --- and we thought we were giving the world a gift!

ARISTOTLE: Well, that gift has turned into a Trojan Horse for us in the future.

SOCRATES: Please, please --- leave the Trojans out of this. I can sustain only so much agitation at one time! By the way, what did that Alexander kid and his boyfriend Hephastion think about the future, same-sex-marriage thing you mentioned?

ARISTOTLE: They laughed uncontrollably, and found the whole thing quite queer. They wondered, why on earth one would want to spoil the delights of love by saddling it with the tedium of marriage.

SOCRATES: I see you have taught them well (snickering), Aristotle.

ARISTOTLE: Apparently, some obvious wisdom gets lost in time.

SOCRATES: Just ask those future Greeks of yours. Speaking of time, we have wasted a lot of it. Where is the hemlock!

This is third in a series. See the first two here:

No. 1

No. 2