A praying buzzard with spring fever

2017, Saturday February the 18th, the day begins with a cacophony of sounds of chirping birds, croaking frogs, cats in heat and a cursing neighbour whose tractor refuses to wake up of hibernation. The unexplained change in the rhythm of the early morning, with an early rising sun, from total tranquility to nervous activity, village life gets irrevocably awakened.  A new time begins, our four-legged friend replies, together with the dogs of the neighbours, on the barking that echoes through the valley, a Buzzard soars praying over a ploughed field, and seems to interpret spring-fever as a start of the hunting season. The mechanism of nature repeats the centuries-old, created by God, steps to reproduction and survival of the world. All events have a source, the creator himself, and those who dare to put a scientific question mark are purveyors of alternative facts. Religious neutrality is just a myth, concocted by secularists who, with their research, trying to destroy God's work, according to new American Secretary of education. Parents bear the responsibility for the upbringing of their children to obedient Christian citizens who understand the dangers of science for their faith and how to counter them. Educators have the inherent right to teach absurd ideas and beliefs to their offspring according to racist and homophobic standards. No civilian Government possesses the right to water down the educational choices of parents by obliging schools to put the facts of physics, biology, chemistry and other religion-threatening subjects in the curriculum. Under the leadership of the Boar of Pig Paradise, the least racist, least anti-Semitic and least discriminatory “mensch” on Earth, the ideas, educational level and general development of the "American" needs to be unlearned up to the level of their European ancestors during the genocide of the indigenous people of the promised land. While on the wrong side of the ocean a narcissistic autistic person with the mind of an adolescent, the read-ability of a four year old and the anger of baby with a shitty diaper surrounds himself with advisors who use up to 140 letters maximum to compose a sentence, the only man who might have been able to explain the world, understandable at a level for the King Pig, by using simplified pictures, died at the age of 90. As a sign of national mourning, the Dutch Government could, at the very least, donate the complete collection of Dick Bruna's Miffy books, as a gift of good will, to Trump. Maybe they would convince him also to be the first astronaut in the new moon-mission from NASA. Meanwhile, the timeline of many expat and immigrant Facebook group is full of questions about the conditions to be allowed to live in the paradise called Portugal by desperate migrants . Because of the global attention to this beautiful country as possible the most ideal holiday destination on this earth, the somewhat hyped success stories of, in illegal dwellings occupying, organic vegetables growing, self-sustaining, socially critical and under the public radar living migrants about the still "free" available health care and pleasantly low priced pieces of nature, make that Portugal is considered a possible walhalla. If you wake up in the morning, on the lonely hill, you’re damn sure to be standing with both feet at the green grass of paradise, but upon closer inspection it turns out however that the struggle for survival in this country, where only a small part of the population can afford a "Western standard", blurs that beautiful free view. While the rents, by the immeasurable increased tourism, in cities like Lisbon and Porto have risen up with as much as 50% and therefore locals simply can no longer afford to live in the city centre, the Government slowly but steadily is hunting down all, no tax paying, "immigrants" with a Bed and Breakfast or otherwise tourist accommodation and forces them to integration and behave in compliance with national laws, the local population in the countryside, which still acts as welcoming neighbours, begins to express some irritation because of crumbling liberties, initiated by complaining foreign neighbors about the fresh ray of shitty odour that comes with pigs, goats and sheep, the sawdustmaker’s machines are whining, the volume of the speakers, to an occasionally nearly blow up, is turned up and when there’s a garden party until the middle of the night the wine gets donated in five litres bottles by the neighbors. With recognition of the hidden defects it is actually a paradise in which we are living. A unique spot on Earth that we, and I mean both the "indigenous" and "immigrant" population, must protect and maintain by a contribution to the unique society in complying with the laws so that everyone has a level playing field in the contest for freedom and success. We should be compete in the match according to the same rules and under the watchful eye of a fair referee so that the treatment of injuries that are inherent in the game is open for everyone. There’s no room for Boar Paradise-like beliefs in which the law of the jungle, the smartest and least social sponsoring triumphs. While the clouds suddenly appear again on this Saturday morning, the warmth is postponed by a hidden sun and the neighbor, disappointedly, parks his tractor to put on a warm sweater, the sawdust maker fills a fifth mug full of black coffee and sees that the vacuum cleaner is strategically placed in the middle of the kitchen.. there’s work to be done ...