The Clintons have built such a strong international syndicate of criminal activity that Al Capone would be jealous for destroying his legacy of vile manipulation and conduct unbecoming. Wikileaks have provided the daily evidence for a conviction, but like Capone the media, the justice system, and many hell-bound contributors have hidden the evidence from the public lulled to sleep by sleazy tabloid topics designed to fill their brains with overwhelming complacency intent to keep them that way. But Trump is the Elliot Ness of our time, not a perfect person, but a King Solomon like godly vessel embodying an optimism that spans deep into the roots of the human race–a hope that there is life beyond such treacherous figures like Clinton and Capone who would meddle with our lives and drain us of everything to satisfy their quest for unlimited power and fulfil the very primal aims of evil.
It was on an oversea business call while Sheriff Jones was speaking—which I was watching on a monitor–that I began to get a sense of the epic magnitude of what was happening. The crowd was ecstatic and it easily spilled over into the corridors for which I was standing making it very hard to hear the participants over my phone. I knew when I was about to re-enter US Bank Arena in Cincinnati on October 14th just before Donald Trump spoke amid massive controversy unjustifiably leveled at him all day long to eliminate his presidential run against the criminal Hillary Clinton, that there was an unusual amount of energy in the room—it was a wave of optimism and hope that just isn’t found anywhere in politics under any other circumstance. And at that particular moment the song shown above was playing, as it always does at Trump rallies in Ohio. It was Pavarotti’s “Nessum Dorma” and it was an epic entry back to my seat where my wife was. That song I felt, and even more so feel today, represents best the entire message of the Trump campaign from the start of it last year to the election on November 8th 2016 and the audience present understood it too. Trump wasn’t even in the building yet and they were spirited—even vivacious with hope dripping from their bodies like the sweat of an intense athlete after hard play under an intense sun. “Nessum Dorma” will forever be to me the embodiment of this freedom movement which currently rests on a precipice of uncertainty. As I walked down the steps to my awaiting wife, to that song, my suspicions were proved 100% correct—the media has underreported the effectiveness of these Trump rallies. Even after a week of allegations of sexual impropriety, the people at US Bank Arena which was filled up to the box seats at the ceiling weren’t buying it proving the Pavarotti version of that song to be more than a metaphor for Trump himself. Nessum dorma translated to English means “none shall sleep” which by the thrill in the air at the rally, tempted by the media to sleep to the facts of all the crimes which wrap the Clinton campaign like a warm blanket—the people were not sleeping and Pavarotti’s lyrics cried out in boldness throughout the 21,000 capacity crowd that in that arena nobody was even weepy eyed. They were awake and were ready for a fight and no matter what happens on election day—something new was amiss and it was a force to be reckoned with.
I had picked the spot shown in the videos here for two reasons. I knew I had to make that very important call before Trump arrived due to the time zone differences with my recipient—so I had to be able to easily get to someplace where I could talk on a phone. But more than that, I was texting images of the rally to members of the media throughout the event because I wanted to make sure the outside world understood how many people were actually there. From that seat I could get a good panoramic of the arena from Trump on stage to the people in the highest seats—and I used that vantage point to tell a story which spilled over onto television reporting later that night, and radio coverage. This was my third Trump rally in Ohio, the first was in March at the Savanah Center in West Chester. The second was at the Sharonville Convention Center in July. And now this one at US Bank Arena in downtown Cincinnati—and this one was certainly the most epic. Metaphorically, the Trump events were no longer about Trump, but about the movement which had percolated from his massive wake and the US Bank rally embodied that with all the gusto for which Pavarotti sung “Nessum Dorma.” The pictures I had to take had to capture that scope in its totality, and I think they certainly did.
One particularly stunning aspect of the night was when the media entered the arena just before Rudy Giuliani spoke and was booed as if they were the visiting team of a hated sporting rival. The last time I heard those kinds of boos was in the heyday of the Cincinnati Bengal rivalry with the upstate NFL team, the Cleveland Browns. It was a hard wall of opposition for the 26-35-year-old road reporters for the mainstream media. The men looked like the stereotypical metrosexual representation of their generation, all stood about 5’ 6” and wore those ridiculous “skinny jeans.” The women looked like people fresh out of line at a Starbucks in Seattle—liberalized, socialists in their sentiments and yearning for their version of the modern “flower child.” When they came out of the tunnel the crowd attacked them with verbal harassment that was like a wall of hatred—which had been nurtured for months with the media’s deliberate propping up of corruption for which Hillary Clinton represented. Those media personalities were complicit in covering up crimes the audience was fully aware of and they let those reporters know it when they entered. It was something I have never seen before—and it was intense.
The next morning the news was fair in reporting that the US Bank Arena had been filled, but they didn’t say much about the optimism witnessed. There were literally people cheering for Trump as if their lives depended on it, because in many ways—it does. The event had a religious quality to it. As I reflected on the evening and the many rock concerts I had seen in that very arena over the years—I remembered how hard it was for popular bands like Prince and the Revolution, and ZZ Top to fill that place to the brim for songs that all of society generally loved. I had witnessed a Trump rally where the relatively boring topics of trade deals was discussed along with taxes—but people reacted to it the way they would if KISS were playing “Detroit Rock City.” When Trump stepped out for the first time, as seen in the videos here provided, it was as if Mick Jagger or Steve Tayler appeared—rock stars well-known to the public for years that many generations experienced. Nobody I heard from Newt Gingrich to Rudy Giuliani, or even Sean Hannity had properly articulated what was happening in that arena as the world outside spun out of control with revelations of criminal conduct on a global scale that was a first for our species. Trump and that audience leaned on each other with a hope that only the great Pavarotti had captured with such intense passion with his much beloved “Nessun Dorma.”
These people were wide awake and they knew the media was trying to put them to sleep. And with each lyrical climb of that classic Pavarotti song came the consciousness of mankind climbing out of such a slumber into a world of true reality where it was realized that this wasn’t an election between Republicans and Democrats, morality, or even economics—but between the basic fight of good against evil. Eliot Ness became an alcoholic later in his life and lost a lot in his fight against Al Capone. King Solomon waged war, had affairs and had many wives living a life that many would consider sinful, yet he was God’s vessel for delivering a people to their righteous place in history and his wisdom came from beyond human endeavor. And Trump, like so many before is a man who has transcended the limits of human shackles and along the way, there were casualties. But like the voice of the great Pavarotti—something beyond earth and all its history was born and it appeared on the stage of US Bank Arena as the last hope for the human race, and there was reason to be optimistic, because for some people they were awake for the first time—and they wanted to do something about it.
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