I am in Hawaii scheduled to interview a man that says a movement is afoot to take back the Hawaiian Kingdom. The time for infighting is over, and if casualties happen, they may take place on both sides of the line. They are not Che Rivera, they do not want to have casinos like the Native Americans, and they do not want their civil rights. They want the Kingdom of Hawaii back up and running. The long wait is over.
Hug Honor: What is your organization called?
Masked Man: The Blue Hawaiians.
HH: Why that name?
MM: We are blue, and will always be until the kingdom is restored.
HH: People will say it is just another publicity stunt or you will do this for a while, then break off and make money with the white man and Asians just like everyone else.
MM: They can say whatever they want. We have people placed in the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines and Coast Guard. Our units in the Reserves and National Guard on Oahu, Hawaii, Maui and Kauai are ready for action. We have our people placed in the police, sheriffs and fire. We have people in the FBI and other island agencies. We have the shipping lines, we have the resources. We have the hiding places and the knowledge to shut down the island, military & civil. Buy your water and flashlight batteries. The war is on.
Talk about a fluff piece. Would you want it any other way when you are talking about cupcakes? Fluffy icing rules. Recently I have spent a lot of time in Hawaii and Arizona visiting some folks I know like Dr. Wang, Dandy Wharton, Peabody Winston, Louis Marvin and JB Flipfrog. I told them to point me to bakeries that had what folks considered some of the best cupcakes. Not only did these cupcakes delight, they were so original in their presentations. Here are some of the creations that I saw, tasted and savored.
ARIZONA: Saguaro Cactus Jelly Cupcake with Ostrich Egg Icing
Indian Flatbread Cupcake with Honey Based Icing
Mexican Cornbread Cupcake with Sweet Salsa Icing (Jalapeno as Topping)
Hawaii: Pineapple Chunk Cupcake with Sweet Kona Coffee Icing
Blue Hawaii Rum Cupcake with Macadamia Nut Icing (Umbrella Optional)
Tarot Cupcake with Coconut Icing
Mooncake Cupcake with Red Bean Icing
Folks, I recommend you see the Grand Canyon and Volcanoes National Park with one of these cupcakes in hand, and icing on your lips. You won't forget the cupcakes or the view.
How wonderful to spend this Valentine Day with my wife and daughter and some friends, in a completely made up holiday for women to get chocolates, roses and romance. Like the made up wars to get nationalistic pride, power broker agendas, and billions in the pockets of the board members who called for the guns to pound them into monetary gained submission.
In the name of stability both in our marraige and in my wanting to get another Rolex and tax your water, we make up these holidays and wars. We market them and hit you in your nationalistic prided balls and hearts for you husbands and boyfriends.
Now we can spend money on missles, tulips, artificial limbs and candlelit dinners. All of this bloody mess made up in the name of love, power and promises for a better day.
Jane's Addiciton said something about sex is violence. Believe it. He who has the biggest missle wins all.
This is a piece written by my friend Louis Marvin, as we both are nearing that middle of life swing time.
The trumpets fanfare, is replaced by the quiet of jobs well done
Coach, teacher, soldier, champion, and describer of the simplicity of life
Escort me into this 50+ stage, this icing on a great cake, this cherry on the top
Coach if they ask, teach if they ask, soldiered in the past, write if peace and quiet abound
Champion if they step into the honor ring
Escort me and I you to the dance. . .this dance of the tried and true
Welcome. And let me say that your patronage of my little try at trying to interject truth into media and journalism again is very welcome Jack.
I am honored to contribute to your Modern Philosophies and Histories. I am of the opinion that we haven't heard the truth since Walter Cronkite. There are isolated journalists and shows, but you seem to have a truth brand on your product and I love it in this day and age.
How did you get the nickname "Diamondback"?
It is the snake I track the most in Arizona and it is also the one that bit me the most. I think I am now part snake with that much venom and anti-venom in me.
I am scheduled to do an interview with Roo Bardookie. I have already interviewed Louis Marvin. And, all of us including you, have a weekend at Dr. Wang's house out in Hawaii coming up that I am to record and produce. What is the connection between these folks and you.
Louis Marvin's grandfathers were personal friends of mine. I made a deal or pact with them before they passed on, that I would mentor and guide Louis. Roo was a serious girlfriend of his, and they have a very sticky past. She seems to have come with the Louis package. Dr. Wang is a woman that I met working on the E-R-* project. We see each other in a professional capacity. But, out of these professional relationships, good things do grow. Dr. Wang is a great lady, and a hell of a leader on this world project.
Do you keep reptiles at home Dr. Veenum?
Not much. I work so much with them in the field, at the labs and at zoos that I really don't want them around all the time. I do have three turtles since they were the size of half dollars. They are about the size of your spread hand now.
There is a play where the main character is like Walter Cronkite, and news so offends him that he takes a knife and stabs his heart and bleeds true American reporter, truth filled blood on this travesty of what the news has become in the hands of big business, government and others with agendas outside of the truth. He could bleed on a newspaper or news magazine page.
The lies, the twisting of the truth to get better cigars and more power is the black magic of lies. Satanic is it's intent. To trap and ensnare the ear and soul of the one that heard it. But the white and natural magic, is that elusive grain of sand called truth. It is my intent to report the facts, and not have my pocket picked or have others line my pockets with money so that I can twist and turn it, and use alchemy on it. It is the most base of metals, and it is not wanting to be turned into gold. Truth is magic in that it simply is and always will be. "I don't recall that senator."
The magic of truth is enough for me. I can sleep soundly at night, and mining for this simple metal while those around me are looking for gold and diamonds and other things at it's expense. Melt that truth and we alchemists will spin it until it is golden. Truth is magic.
I want to welcome all of you from around the world and around the block. I wish I had arms big enough to hug all of you. It's wonderful to have you here with me. Let's get started. . .my name is Hug Honor. My initials are H. I. H., which reads Hughly Important Honor on my birth certificate. You pronounce it Hug (with long u sound) lee. ESL (English Second Language) or ELL (English Language Learners) often mispronounce it, Hugely Important Honor. I prefer Hug (short u sound).
She lives across the street from where the first African-American President went to school. She will be attending the school where the father of the Chinese Revolution attended school. We want her to be a doctor, because she would be the 13th or 14th generation of doctors from China (listed in the who's who of Chinese medicine). She talks about veterinary medicine, and that is A-OK too. But, as her father I continue to remind her that she has the world before her. She must tighten up the American disaster of math and science slippage in the day and age of mathematics and sciences. If American kids want to participate in the China/India/America/Brazil world that is upcoming, they have to get their maths and sciences together. Technology goes without saying, but it is empty without the S & M.
She has a world of possibilities open to her with her Chinese death defying, telling the spoiled American kid what's up mother from the revolution. Mom's family was beaten, imprisoned, and she was kept from school, (but eventually kept the medical degree line going). She comes from professors and doctors on the Chinese side, with a mixed salad of accountant, miner, metal worker, computer programmer, editor, writer, firemen, policeman, soldiers, chefs, educator and coach from the Arizona/Swede side.
Do you want to be the first Asian-American woman president? Then buckle down and have at it. I dropped the sand in your shell, now form that pearl kid.
Written by a mixed race family living in the great state of Hawaii.
And I quote the billionaire when asked about his building of walls to keep the lepers out, and his private schooled family in, like those in the current zombie movies:
"I would rather be inside looking out, than outside looking in."
But the brick you build the wall with, is the brick you build the yellow brick road to hell with.
Or is it?
After a man or woman had died, my partner and I were anti-bricklayers. We took up and out the bricks from the road that lead them to hell. Just another brick in the road. I thought that my blanket statement of rich men going to hell would suffice and cover me on cold winter nights. But I found a foot sticking out from under my blanket.
On the back of each brick, there was a description of what had happened in order to gain this gold bar.
And to my suprise, this man recently sent to hell, was no more a monster than you or I. He was just a man, who wanted good things for his family. He had no slippery lawyer friends, no intentions of having children in poor countries make his shoes, no desire to have throats cut for his gold watch.
He was just a man trying to thrive at a chosen profession, who could not understand how the homeless were floundering, the government crucifying the poor to appease the rich, his church full of hypocrites and behind the back talkers.
His bricks, etched in the back behind the gold, told a story of a good man, who gave and wept and tried his best to do good things for his country, family, God and this world.
Had they sent a man to the fires, who had genuinely wanted to gain his angel wings?
The line was blurring, and careers themselves were under scrutiny. The men themselves were not being judged fully. They were slipping into hell, by way of popular demand. And these gold bricks were tied around their ankles like mob hits or ropes around their necks stretched like cowboy movie lynchings from yesteryear.
We must look at the whole man or woman. These blanket statements will not keep us warm, they will not only harm those aimed at, they boomerang and konk us too.
I was in Honolulu, visiting a woman for a get-together in Tantalus, who I had met while we were helping get presents to kids through one of those programs like Toys for Tots, or Wish Upon a Star. It was after the whole occupy Wall Street thing, that I saw some tents positioned across the street from the Honolulu Academy of Arts. I heard that they had some great Asian art, and I wanted to see it. I wanted to talk to one of these tent folks. It was here I found this old man in his tent. I got him some smokes and coffee, and we talked.
Hug Honor: How did it come to this?
Old Man: To what? Wanting a smoke first thing in the morning? I started smoking when I was a teenager. Coughing out blood and lung bits? Who can see a doctor? Deciding between some Mad Dog to take the edge off the DTs or a cup of coffee to wake up enough to decide if I want to sleep longer or are we going to have to move the tents enough to comply with the latest law-passed last night in a secret session while we slept?
HH: This tent, here in Honolulu, and talking to me now. How did you get here?
OM: Let's let the nicotine and the caffeine kick in first. Who in the hell are you again?
HH: I write for an internet magazine called Modern Philosophies and Histories. I'm Hug Honor.
OM: Is that some sort of made up name?
HH: No, it's short for Hughly I. Honor.
OM: Ha, ha, huge honor. Was your mom a comedian?
HH: Just call me Hug.
OM: OK Hug. Call me old man enjoying a smoke and a coffee, in the moment.
So we sat there in front of his dirty little tent, enjoying watching the morning traffic head downtown to work. It was a satisfying smoke and coffee, under the edge of a banyon tree, across from the museum, just down the road from the main police station. Here I sat with a dirty stranger, which was what this old man did each and every morning.
I can't see the future catastrophes in their eyes
I only see dreams of what a new world order can be
Please, please listen little mathematicians of McKinley, little engineers of Iolani
Little hippies and modern philosophers of Punahou and artists of Mid Pacific
Make these great changes children, as you stand atop the mountain
You straddle the tipping point, of Al Gore's nightmare he dreamed of now and long ago
I hope to God you are texting formulas to save the world, to save mankind
You are on your little mini-screen, your 3-D world of the Avatar movie makers who know
We have to connect with the world, we have to feel the world's pain
We have to dispose of our dollar hunger, and feed this planet
You young tipping point masters, please take heed and feel the need to change
We who know, know that you hold our futures
You great Chinese, Brazilian, American, German, Latin and African Kings and Queens,
You can be the bringers of life, you can drop the black velvet curtain of death
Mother world, nature she
Wants to live, you brave, smart kids.
I see the future in your eyes.
Dr. Jack: I know Louis through his grandfathers. I was friends of both of them in Arizona. Roo is a friend of Louis. It's all a big mystery as to why I ended up helping and representing her. I have hinted at dark secrets and blackmail, but the two of them stonewall me.
Peabody had the only store around when I was doing rattlesnake work in Arizona. I had heard JB on the radio, and one day he came in the store when Peabody and I were talking.
I want to let Hug talk because he actually knows everybody.
Hug: How about if everybody tells how they met me instead.
Roo: I met him at an NA meeting in the city. Then I saw him again speaking on lingering affects of abuse on adults.
JB: I had met Hug in Slidell, Louisiana at a po' boy shop. Then one day, he walks into the radio station in Arizona talking about being on the talk show we have.
Louis: I saw him at Ronald McDonald House talking to families in Honolulu. I was doing some stuff with our church youth there.
Peabody: Like Jack said, he walked right in just a few days after my wife had passed. The boys and I were a mess.
Dr. Jack: That was the first time I met him too. I heard some of the show on the radio.
Dr. Wang: I was putting some toys into the Christmas program for kids at one of the area malls here, and Hug was sitting behind the table.
Hug: I just like to help folks out. I can write and talk to folks.
Today I will be interviewing Louis Marvin in his educator/coaching capacity. His 10,000 Rainbow Student Army/5,000 Player Rainbow Army continues to grow day by day. With the one exception being a slowing down to one primary player that is now taking part in the Top Dog phase of the Top Dog/Under Dog training that they use. He continues to add to the student numbers in classrooms, and will once again work with a small private school to introduce the sport of tennis to them this summer. His top dog will work as his assistant when time permits.
Hug Honor: Louis, you have worked with this student from the beginning. Where did you come up with this idea of training to be a leader, while at the same time being able to know how those you lead feel?
Louis Marvin: Several things came together. My father's thing was that although he would be near the top as the controller of several companies, he used his first days there to actually work with the janitors, the guys on the warehouse floor, the guys in the field, then into the offices. He didn't just come in and meet them, he actually worked with them in every phase. He knew who was talking and about what they were talking about when it came to the company. My training in the Army was another factor. Plus, my own rising from a first tournament drubbing as a 1st round 0-6, 0-6 doubles loser (to the national 12s champions), to eventual champion.
HH: Describe what you are doing with this player.
LM: There are age groups as they are growing up. This player has shown her mettle in 9, 10, 11 (Little Mo), and USTA 12, 14, 16 and 18. She has played two women's leagues and a men's league. Plus, she has taken part in women's open singles and doubles tournaments, along with open mixed. Having done all of this jumping around, the actual training comes in the 1st and 2nd years of her actual age group. In the first year it is best to have nearly zero points, leading to never being seeded in events. This insures that you will fight your way from the bottom, and take on all comers to earn your piece of the pie. If you are a top dog player, you then spend the second year training and playing with the target on your chest, while showing how to act responsibly to the younger players.
HH: It sounds like life in that you work your way up. But so many forget where they came from, and then they think they can act like asses once they are in the penthouse. What about this with your player?
LM: Never! Her mother and I would lower the boom. She is a very nice girl who always befriends players that she is in battle with. Winning a sporting event goes for about 2 hours max. Then back to real life. My father warned me to behave in a boys 14s event, and when I did not he pulled me from the court in the finals. He did this and formed this idea of getting down to the blue collar work in the basement, then getting to the top and defending and evolving and leading. This is just like what you want in your leaders, or in ourselves.
HH: Maybe more sports parents and our world leaders should take a look at your way of dealing with your coal to diamond player.
LM: It's just one positive way. There are a million great ways to go for a million people. This is ours.
Where did you come up with the name Louis Marvin?
Hug, these are the two first names of my grandfathers. Louis was a copper miner. His red haired daughter just told me that he was the crusher foreman. He spoke fluent Spanish, graduated at the top of his class, and helped to support his twin sister going to university to be a teacher, by being a soldier in the army. Marvin came from Minnesota with a family/friend group of Swedes that travelled into the hot desert of Arizona and took up residence in the Phoenix area. Marvin worked for Reynold's Aluminum, lost two fingers to machinery, and was a barber in his earlier life. Marvin loved real trains and did train modeling. I call them my blue collar angels.
What drives you to write? Is it a soul driven thing or just something you do for a hobby?
A professor from Boise State said some people should not write. She was talking to me. But, it's what I do. I really enjoy myself when I write. My life is cake, with a wonderful wife and daughter. I live in one of the most beautiful places on this earth (an island in the Pacific). I get to teach and coach, volunteer and give where I can. We are blessed with a nice life. My writing is icing this cake of life. As the professor and readers of my work can all agree, "my icing is not always sweet". I'm doing this with a smile on my face and a smile in my soul. Those in the know can reject, inspect or dissect.
Can you tell me about your relationship with Roo Bardookie?
Without going too far into it. We had a very intimate, and what I thought was true love relationship in the late 80s and early 90s. We broke up in 1992. For 20 years, to include my first wife (divorced in 1998), and throughout my 15 year relationship with my current wife, she has held me hostage to some information that I would rather not have come out. I have talked to the police, pastors, FBI, lawyers and anybody I think can help. Withour her doing anything, it is just threats and mean spirited talk.
What exactly does she hold over you?
She stold my confessions when going through NA/AA 12 step programs and a rehab thing in Mesa, Arizona. These were the things I was going to go back and confess, and tell people I was sorry or just things I did as a nasty little kid and party animal. Let me just say they are damning in my current position in life. I wish she would just get over it, get the damn things out of the safe deposit and give them to me.
Any last words to close?
I am proud of my daughter's work and the fun she is having with the new fish tank her friend gave her. I am proud of the hard work my wife is doing. The Chinese girls are the bomb! I love 'em. And as always, howdy to the folks in Prescott, Arizona.
I simply saw, a father of today, with his baby son on the edge of a bridge, throwing bread to ducks and geese. I wanted to stare at this wonderfulness, but did not want to intrude.
I did not want to intrude on the warrior/soldier teaching his son to saddle the horse and sharpen the blade.
Nor would I want to get in the way of mafia padres passing the black secrets to their soon to be son soldiers.
The king had to teach the prince, the piano player the cross-over, the Van Halen boy had a father and uncle to teach him the stage trick antics and theatrics.
Teach the fishers, poets, boxers and construction workers. Money men, show them the tricks of the money trade, and drunks pass on those tendencies too.
If history teaches us anything, it teaches us that the fruit of the tree, won't be a fruit of another father.
I wish I could go back in time to times that are lost to a boy's memories. What would the full grown man make of the places? 1960s Hollywood, being born in Burbank. What was it like with it's martini, Playboy, Elvis, Sinatra, big studios, on the verge of the new young guns coming up?
What of the Swedes in Minnesota, with the big woods and lakes everywhere, and the farms for family gatherings?
What of the deserts of Arizona, and the coyote and roadrunners, with the travelling desert gypsy vikings who migrated here to make their homes?
What of the small New Jersey home with choir singing, re-found music love on the yellow radio, and father working in Manhattan?
What of our Memphis/Germantown brothers, both black and white, living through ice storms and the death of Elvis?
Thunderbird mountain, Carlos Rivera and Western Hills, when one could travel to Juarez to shop, and not have your head handed to you-what of Marty Robbins and Old El Paso and queso dip?
What of our Mexican and Latino brothers in Phoenix, Tucson, Globe, San Diego, Los Angeles, Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, Nevada, Mexico City and Guanajuato? What become of the ladies that took me into their home and showed me the flower that only opened one time per year?
What of the friends in Germany and China and Yugoslavia, where I drank beer and ate sausage and noodles and tofu?
Take me back, but bring me back. Oh great rainbow time machine.
I was unexpectedly invited to a Dr. Wang's house on the island of Oahu by Dr. Wang and Dr. Veenum. As part of this wonderful outing, Louis Marvin was my guide on this wonderful island paradise. His way of pointing things out to me in his ocean and plant and island women discoveries, made me see in him that he is in love with this place. His reverence for the place is catching, and I saw the truest art and what inspires art in men.
The women of Hawaii, the wahine rainbow.
They have folded in Asian and Island and European and Mainland USA blood into these people. The women are sometimes so beautiful, that your breath is taken from you. You are in such a state that you must hold your breath while this lovely woman or women walk by. For them and their natural family values, they think nothing of having Miss Hawaii or Miss America or Miss Universe in their families.
And here I think is the #1 artistic draw for both photographers and painters and those who draw. It is this innocence and this "so I'm beautiful, so what" thing. The attitude is, beauty on the outside is one thing, but beauty on the inside is even more important.
Louis told me of the time when he was helping to teach a class of PE to some kids and noticed that their PE teacher was attractive. He was later told that it was the future Miss America. He was working with Miss Hawaii at the time. She was just a PE teacher. Beautiful.
We are talking it over on Peabody's back porch with Jack, Louis, me and JB. Give us a little time.
"I think the modern children, these tipping point children and their children will be the ones that finally do something about trying to strongarm the uneducated masses. I think even those educated, are now finally seeing that even released news is but a "Wizard of Oz" show. Some families are planning their futures for 1,000 or more years, while some are fighting just to survive the day with some stale bread."
"I agree Hug. The problem is, when you try to do things like King and Ghandi with non-violence, only those with souls and that care if you blow up or have bullets in your skull, will change anything. Mass media is now being used as a scare tool, to scare us into buying and not buying, into a general feeling of unease, that the all knowing powers are curing, if and only if you are on their side."
"Jack, you seem to be saying that burying your head can get you out of earshot and eyesight of this merciless onslaught of pictures and soundbites that sway us to do the bidding of those in charge of the power and money."
"Louis, once you know, it can blow your mind."
"There is something to be said for good old fashinoned logic from a rocking chair. Of course with a shotgun propped under my blanket."
"Peabody, if you really don't own the land, what good is the gun for?"
"This illusion tastes like a cold beer and some friends on the back porch."
"That's what I'm talking about. I can only say so much on the radio. I can keep it backwoods, and howdy folks, but I always remember, we are owned by some corporation out of New York, that's owned by some folks in Europe now. All these small radio stations are bought out to advertise for Walmart, and make money for castle livers and caviar eaters."
"JB, I believe it is in the micro-humanity that we must live. We have to do small things for the people in our immediate area. We can only be in the here and now."
Hug stood up, and pointed his beer up to heaven and the blue and piney sky. And all the others in this back porch club pointed their beers too.
What if the family that has 500,000,000,000,000+, which grows every second, turned to actually relieving the wars, hunger, etc. in the world?
The billionaires like Gates, Walton, Oprah and Buffett are like children to this family. They are like pawns in a giant monopoly set.
After having wars, hunger, suffering, etc. be so lucrative for their family, why not try something new? Why not try peace, hunger relief and generally ending world suffering.
They could create a Rothschild world Utopia. It would be fun to have the world be a heaven on earth vs. manipulating bad things. And, they would continue to reap trillions in the process.
World peace in our time. The Rothschild family could do it. Please.
Three men marched out to the Army and to wars, with one of a different sort.
Two uncles marched off to war, WW II to be exact, unless the Korean War was the second bear trap. They were wars with landmines and other bloodletting devices.
We know because Uncle Lowell came back without a leg. There were other problems too. He never did like to wear the fake leg, except for weddings or other important events. He was usually rolling around in his chair. He marched off to war, he stepped on a landmine.
Uncle Bill, either in that same WWII epic, or the Korean one, also lost a leg. He was generally walking around on the fake leg. I remember him having to straighten it out to walk on it. He too had lifelong medical problems.
The copper miner Louis, who was a grandpa in some circles, will play brother in this one. A war of socioeconomic status ensued, with brains and earned rights taken away, as vultures on the hill looked down on the poor bones, and picked them clean.
Louis and his twin sister earned the highest honors at their high school. They came in 1st and 2nd in the entire senior class. They were to be given scholarships to what was then the Arizona Teacher's Normal College (later Arizona State University). But, they gave it to some rich kids on the hill. So Louis marched off to the Army to pay for his sister to attend. She graduated with honors, and was a teacher for many years. He finished with the army, and was so smart, he could read, write and speak Spanish and English. He became a respected supervisor in the copper mines. He worked for those same guys that stole the scholarships. Then, he contracted black lung, and those rich mountain men, took his life too. To add insult to injury, they never paid his wife after his early demise.
From this veteran to those veterans: I salute you.
I am a vain, vague vagabond vagrant. My vagarious story is nothing but vainglory. Yet, this vainglorious life, filled with vagaries of private matters and sad stories of the death of my mate, with her veal diseased with a virulent virus, is what makes my life interesting (my ego and I think).
They pass each other on the creaking, old wooden stairs of their dream home. And it has turned into a dream home. For they are now ghosts who inhabit this wonderful place. More love given to the blinded dog, than to the man. And he, not able to enjoy an island paradise, trapped like prisoner in what he considers a cultural wasteland.
He would rather let plants and animals die, than to take care of the simple living beings that mean so much to the female ghost.
It is a cancer ridden patient, made up nice for the people to look on. But inside, termites eat away at the boards that hold up the structure. The living ghosts inhabit the white, ghost house on the hill.
A man who has travelled the world and done deeds in Mexico, China, Yugoslavia, Germany, Italy and Austria, has crash landed in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. He has washed up on shore, where they teach tourists to sail, paddle and surf.
This poor soul, with his cell phone and computer and TV and answering machines, starving for the desert and coyote and gila monster. Starving for pines, pigs, deer and owl.
He says, "If I had a dream to dream, I would dream of Chinese women, and asian flavored sun goddesses, who look to you for wit and wisdom."
"If I were a man that could train my dreams to synch up with my realities, I would have this life I am living be the life I want and the dream come true. No, the reality, is more of a wish than a dream. I will leave it as a birthday cake candle blown out, or a genie given wish out of three that has turned into this lovely life with the Chinese girls and our turtles and fish."
The man has crash landed on the undeserted island. He thanks for the day. He wishes nothing more, but good things for his Chinese girls.