Checkpoint Charlie

The only thing constant is change. And some stories do not end as you expect. Once an outsider, always an outsider. You can only deal with the cards you are dealt with. You take a deep breath and you jump and you hope that there's water at the bottom of the pool when you land. The saddest song ever told. And a host of other sayings and philosophies that want to pass me by on this blog your way to the bankless get rich internet quickless day when it comes to this thing called life. And so what I wanted to blah blog about on this blaghing day. So what's up with that Checkpoint Charlie checkpoint that found its way to that intersection of Dekalb Avenue and Wyckoff Ave in that neighborhood of Bushwick, Brooklyn, or is it Bushburg or East Williamsburg, Brooklyn, to be found in that country or is it continent of North America to be found on planet earth, the other day where there seems to be more New York City Department of Polizei, Politi people on the streets of that city of New York than people themselves these days and times and seemingly beyond. And as I found myself passing by that intersection the other day going my way, that intersection found itself closed off with polizei at all four corners shining flashlights in everyones faces, checking drivers I.D. for when asked for what reason? "Drunk drivers" was a response and, "Are you liberal?" Hugh? Are the Gestapo's here yet. And what's the Gestapo anyway. And it seemed like some scene straight out of a checkpoint Charlie Museum scene. And what, if anything, does this have to do with a No Police State?