Despite the fact that we’ve given peace several chances only to be repeatedly disappointed, there’s always some wide-eyed new group willing to give peace yet another chance. Hence we have Pennies for Peace and Pinwheels for Peace, the latter a movement where participants “imagine…whirled peace!”

How might pinwheels bring peace, you ask? Annually, on the International Day of Peace, pinwheel peaceniks worldwide “plant” colorful whirling art forms in various and sundry breezy locations. The idea is that the “spinning of the pinwheels in the wind spread[s] thoughts and feelings about peace throughout the country and the world!”

In like manner, this past September airy-headed nonconformists from every corner of the Earth joined together to take a stab at global amity by participating in a communal event called Yoga for Peace.

According to Y4P organizers, “Yoga for Peace is the symbol of the paradigmatic shift in consciousness of the world” where, in unison, “participants…move to powerful drum beats while completing an invigorating practice of 108 sun salutations, or mala in Sanskrit. Upon completion of the mala, participants rested in savasana, a lying meditation, to form a human mandala, or peace wheel”—not to be confused with a pinwheel.

While yoga and colorful paper attached to a stick hold great potential to make the world a better place, probably the most creative effort thus far seeking to marshal mankind toward planetary accord unfolded in the most unlikely of places—Mexico.

Who would have thought that 300 professional clowns from a country notorious for drug cartels, gun-running, beheadings, border-patrol shootings, and illegal border crossings would propose a “15-minute non-stop laugh-a-thon” as their personal contribution toward making the world a friendlier, more loving place?

Mexican clowns, joined by fellow Central American payasos, gathered in Mexico City “for a four-day convention to trade jokes and hone skills like making balloon figures.” One would guess that the jesters probably shared gallows humor like: “What do you call 15 decapitated men outside an Acapulco mall?” Or, “How many dead mayors does it take to discourage anyone else from even considering a life in Mexican law enforcement?”

The event’s highlight was when the entourage gathered at Mexico City’s Mother’s Monument under a sign that said: “Clowns for Peace, A World Without Violence.”

Mother’s Monument appeals to peace-lovers everywhere. If a similar statue were ever to be erected on US soil, it would beautifully memorialize anchor babies’ ability to peacefully usher in amnesty for all the illegal Mexican mothers who throughout the years chose to flee the place where they hold the clown convention.

Nevertheless it was there beneath the image of Madre y el Niño that Mexican clowns gathered to pose for a group snapshot and then immediately set about the job of “laughing, tee-heeing and guffawing for…15 minutes.”

Much like those who spin pinwheels or waft their kundalini kindness through the universe, the clowns were convinced that a “world with more laughter will have less time or appetite for violence,” even if only for a quarter of an hour.

So as the drug war rages in Mexico, the Obama Administration’s Fast and Furious guns-to-cartels scandal heats up in the US, and the world careens toward a catastrophic end, it’s good to know there is a chortling group of devoted Mexicans who realize that peace is attainable through lotus positions, voluntary hyperventilation, and unbridled glee.

By the way, only a day after Mexico’s clown convention for peace, a bloody and violent end befell a clown known as the Mad Dog of the Middle East.

The left finally has a poster boy for the “Occupy” movement, and his name is Shawn Coleman. He encapsulates the liberal “What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine” mentality fostered by a president who continually prods the nation toward sacrifice while ensconced in the lap of luxury.

In the spirit of an Obama family favorite, $145 Wagyu rib eye steak, 41-year-old Occupy Hartford protester Shawn Coleman, a man with no known address, was arrested on a street corner brandishing a steak knife. Shawn was attending the otherwise peaceful protest, save the usual neighborhood violence which places the Connecticut capital seventh on a list of the nation’s most dangerous cities.

Coleman, one of the 250 activists who attended Occupy Hartford’s first march, was apparently so committed to sending a message to Wall Street that he put his tent pegs down on city-owned land that occupiers have renamed “Turning Point Park.” Mr. Coleman is only one of a dedicated handful that has actually inhabited the park with canopy-style tents.

Unfortunately for Shawn, he missed the antiwar rally and the potluck dinner because he was charged “with threatening and disorderly conduct.”

It’s too bad he couldn’t make it, because marching for peace and sharing a blue tarpaulin, a communal table, and a Porta-Potty usually fosters a sense of camaraderie among the 99%, a sense of togetherness that is sadly missing amid the selfish, individualistic 1% who control the nation’s wealth.

Seems all was going well until a shortage of blankets, a rare commodity in the “Turning Point” tent city, caused an upset among the preachers of equitable resource distribution. 

While joining with others to send a message to Wall Street that avarice among the rich will no longer be tolerated and that sharing wealth is mandatory, Coleman threatened to stab a brother united in the cause. Apparently, after hunkering down for the night on an air mattress for peace, Shawn got “agitated over sharing blankets with another occupant of the tent.”

Demanding that wealthy bankers cough up free cash is one thing, but being asked to go halfsies on a city-issued comforter while bedding down in a cold, wet encampment is over the top. Especially after marching, chanting, and writing messages on canvas boards that say things such as: “Because a dignified life for all must supersede an extravagant life for some.”

People willing to reapportion other people’s money can get testy after participating in marches in support of amnesty for illegals doing the “jobs Americans won’t do” while hearing others complain that college graduates can’t find work. In fact, that kind of “diversity of opinion” may be why one person could spend the week demanding prosperous people share more and then someone else, when given a chance to do the same, would pull a knife instead of peacefully hogging the blanket.

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Thus far, it appears to matter little what demands are intrinsic to Occupy Every Damned City You Can Trash because for many, the higher truth is found in the symbolism of “so many people in so many places” coming together in tents, sleeping bags, and extra-large construction-grade trash bags. These are the collective visionaries who represent what Barack Obama now agrees is “the 99 percent”—those set apart from the self-serving 1% who hoard the wealth, sleep in beds, go to work, and would rather not relieve themselves on police cars.

While it remains unclear what direction the Occupy movement will take, Shawn Coleman probably won’t be there to find out. Although a well-meaning Mr. Coleman may have merely intended to use a sharp implement to carve up the blanket into equitable squares, he’ll have to prove that to the authorities, because it seemed as if he was ready to stab a rally mate over who owns the sleeping gear. 

Still, despite the blanket controversy and lack of focus, many occupiers insist they’re helping to make the world a more loving and caring place.

In the words of Hannah Kluger, a University of Hartford student who “spent two nights early in the week at Turning Point Park before taking a break to catch up with homework” (and in all likelihood charge her iPhone): “We’re forming communities here. For me, we just need a greater sense of compassion for our fellow human beings.”

Unless that means after spending the day shouting down “The Man,” storming private residences, and singing 100 choruses of “Peace Train,” occupiers are forced to split a city-issued blanket.

Barack Obama

Does Barack Obama have a thing for Latina chicks or what? First there was the famous salsa at Fiesta Latina at the White House with Mexican singer/actress Thalia. The usually cool Obama got so heated up you could almost see the steam rising as he danced his way back to his seat. The president cooled off instantly once he sat down, because that little spin around the room with a sexy diva didn’t exactly impress Michelle, who gave “Mr. Macho” her familiar cold, hard stare.

Nevertheless, when Barack decided it was time to put immigration reform on the table, a trio of Latina lovelies was called in to advise him. Screw Sheriff Joe Arpaio—who needs him? The list of experts included Eva Longoria, the Mexican-American actress born precariously close to the Mexican border in Corpus Christi, TX; Puerto Rican/Afro-Cuban Rosario Dawson; and Honduran America Ferrera.

Eva defined the meeting as a “brainstorming” session where “influential” persons in the media such as herself joined together with Obama to discuss the complex issues of immigration reform, the imminent need to pass the Dream Act, and making politicians who don’t support his immigration views “pay” in 2012.

Eva, who can barely keep her own avocados under control, told an intimate group of reporters that she is integral to what she calls the “conversation” and is a key advisor in helping “reframe the immigration argument” and tie up loose ends with the guacamole-loving Mr. Macho.

For President Obama it’s never all work and no play. When it’s time to throw a Super Bowl party, who better for the president to share his kielbasa with than football fan Jennifer Lopez? Thus far, the president hasn’t recruited the ex-Mrs. Marc Anthony to be part of his immigration/border security consultative board, but that’s probably because she’s too busy judging the new season of American Idol, leaving no time to advise washed-up American idols.

While J.Lo is otherwise occupied, the president has a bevy of Latina experts from whom to draw advice. For instance, Barack Obama is so invested in cultivating children as future Democrat voters that out of all the nation’s Hispanic educators, the best and most qualified representative is apparently the belly-dancing, hips-don’t-lie Shakira Isabel Mebarak Ripoll.

Along with border security expert Eva Longoria, Colombian pop sensation Shakira was one of those who “met with the president in the Oval Office.” One can be sure that Ms. Shakira shimmied her way into the president’s presence loaded with knowledgeable insights that complemented the other Latina salsa-dancing/border-security/immigration-reform experts who were also there “brainstorming” with the world’s most powerful man.

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Shakira, known for educational songs such as “Underneath Your Clothes” and “She Wolf,” has been tapped to expand her humanitarian work beyond the borders of the Barefoot Foundation—an “education-focused” organization she founded in 1995—and will embrace the president’s Advisory Commission on Educational Excellence for Hispanics.

Trevor Neilson, Shakira’s “philanthropic adviser,” spoke on behalf of the woman who sings about her “Oral Fixation,” saying “Shakira considers this a profound honor and responsibility and is thrilled to be able to use her experience to help the president and commission in some small way.”

Besides teaching young barefoot girls how to writhe rhythmically in time to seductive music, Shakira has “educated more than 6,000 kids in her schools in Colombia” and believes deeply that unlike her own “assets,” which even she admits are “small and humble” and not to be confused with mountains, “Latino children are one of America’s greatest assets.”

Shakira is convinced that Latino children are capable of doing “incredible things for our country,” such as one day teaching other children to pole-dance in a bikini like she does, but only “if we ensure they have access to quality education” from wonderful Obama-appointed role models such as herself.

In the past, being the so-called Ugly Betty or the only Latina desperate housewife on television was enough to become a presidential advisor. However, add belly-dancing and running around in the shower in a wet négligée to an already ample set of credentials, and it’s easy to understand why Shakira, who performed for Obama’s inauguration, was a top contender for a position on the president’s education council.

Meanwhile, Latino celebrities such as Edward James Olmos and Marc Anthony, although potentially just as valuable to the president’s close circle of brilliant advisors, thus far have not held any press conferences or been featured as key participants in the conversation.

In the future, perhaps Barack Obama can further resolve the nation’s immigration-related problems by expanding his own borders to include additional well-qualified Hispanic political advisors such as Arizona immigration law critic Jessica Alba, former illegal immigrant Salma Hayek, and family immigration/deportation expert Sofia Vergara.