Gentlmen and gentlewomen...

Men in general have always worked the odds with regards to females and other males.  It's hard coded.  Core logic. Women in-general and society at-large are the beneficiaries AND victims of these root proclivities. Yes, we denigrate women. We also open doors and carry the groceries too. Some of us can even fix the dryer, mend a torn garment, fix a booboo, prepare dinner and retrieve Mr. Mittens from under the house. Turns out Mr. was a Mrs. and we now have bunch of effin mittens! But I digress.

When thinking with the minor head, not much else makes sense.  Back in the day [prehistoric] there was the very real and present danger of becoming dinner for a more agile and physically gifted beast, every day. Lions and tigers and bears, no shit! So the drive to procreate has and always will lead to awkward moments. Some even criminal. All are life changing. That said, it's only lately that we've become so cynical.

Now, I'm not advocating a return to the paterfamilias paradigm but rather giving a nod to all the good it has wrought while trying to atone for the stupid stuff. I don't see anything fair about the #metoo movement. I know it has to run its course and that maybe some good will come of it if only to clean out the cobwebs. But I keep hearing that echo. One of indecipherable shouts and something else, something metallic, tink tink tink, a ratcheting up. The sound getting louder as we move closer.

I see a blood bath where the insouciant will become victims of a New Inquisition. In my short time on Earth, I've seen the ugly side of a relationship that soured then blossomed into envy and retribution. If it were today, I could get a restraining order. But those were the good ol' days and I took things into my own hands. I called her mama.

So this is where I have to draw a line with the Kavenaugh excoriation. I don't doubt the woman's account of the situation she found herself in thirty years ago. But what I do doubt is her motivation and why now? Delayed catharsis? If Kavenaugh is cast down, and maybe he should be, will her hippocampus heal itself? That thing that she says bears the permanent impression of that night. If I were Kavenaugh, I'd call her, apologize and try my damndest to make amends.

For certain, Kavanaugh missed an opportunity. He missed the chance to give succor to the aggrieved and call for a full investigation. To make his amends public. To set an example of what a judge on the highest court should look like. His chance to be level-headed under fire. Instead he ended up whining about it on Fox like a little bitch. A proud day for ferret faced fucks everywhere!

The question is, should all horny teenagers be publicly flogged for their youthful indiscretions thirty years hence? If criminal, then heck yes! I don't think there should ever be a statute of limitations on rape. But that doesn't seem to be the case here. Traumatic for sure, but criminal? I know women that would have knee'd Kavanaugh in the balls and broke a lamp over his head while he was still on the floor in the fetal position. Mrs. Ford was scared and obviously scarred. Not everyone has the goods to overcome in the moment.

So what have we to work with when there's no evidence other than hearsay and the possibility of false memory? When there is no clear physical damage and no corroboration nor credible witness, only the earnest recollection from a poised and educated woman. Was there a crime? If the answer is yes, then all men should be looking over their shoulders. There's a new and more agile beast in town.

Another children's crusade?

In 1212, a twelve year-old boy named Stephen of Cloye said that Jesus visited him in his room one night and told him to get thee hence to Marseilles where He would part the Mediterranean so they could all walk to Jerusalem and turn everyone into Shake-n-Bake Christians. All Steve would need was unwavering faith and thirty thousand blind sheep. I mean, what's a shepherd without something to herd? Even a deluded one.

From Cloye south to Marseilles, nearly 800 kilometers or 500 miles, a mass of humanity most of them children were want to make the trip. But for failing to impress the Pontiff, the Children's Crusade went south in the metaphorical sense as well. No Vatican support meant they were on their own. The guy in the high hat was God's guy on earth and he'd be damned if some punk named Steve was going to upstage him. Apparently Jesus never visited him when he was twelve in his room, Goddamnit.

So the march went ahead as unplanned. Ironically, many of the faithful that completed the trek ended up on ships bound for the slave markets of Marrakesh rather than Jerusalem proving yet again that it sucks to be stupid. I mean, where were their parents?

Fast forward a few centuries and we're faced with another children's crusade. One born of senseless slaughter rather than religious delusion. Not the dire imaginings of Saracens despoiling the Holy sepulchre but of real murder in the first degree. These are the voices of those with first-hand knowledge of the carnage one addled individual can commit with a military grade weapon.

Maybe we should start there.  Stop calling them "assault" rifles and start calling them "military grade" and thereby contextualize both our military, its weaponry and our national fetish with them both.  Militarism is like a bloody stump cauterized with ideology, salved with religion and hide-bound with nationalism. So let's not kid ourselves, the hand is not growing back.

That said, America and the ideals for which it stands are not in danger of despotic rule whereby the populace is left indefensible. But seriously, do weekend warriors really think they can hold any amount of ground against the world-class ass-kicking reputation of the Marines, Army or Air Force in any kind of battle?  What makes these chuckle-heads conjure a world where they survive an encounter with the likes of Apaches, Warthogs, Abrams and Reapers?

So give us all a frigging break about guns keeping us all safe from tyrants.  Better we listen to the angels of our bereavement and stand up for the innocents that have been taken from us by someone with a right to bear arms, a bag full of thirty round clips and a bone to pick.

Why not reclassify all modern weaponry with the capacity of inflicting mass murder as Class III weaponry thereby making them much more inaccessible to the everyday crazy. Perhaps a new Class III-b license would work. Like medical coding for Medicare, we could create a way for aficionados, collectors, competitors and others to access BUT they would have to pass muster. 

Yes Mildred, this is akin to elitism but other than that, the average gun owner would have to satisfy him or herself with a more modest capacity for carnage. Heck, Timothy McVeigh did it with fertilizer and kerosene.

Man about town...

I lost a dear friend yesterday. I was privileged to work with him but for a few years and even though I left Atlanta twenty nine years ago, he remained my mentor and I always called him boss. He was an innovator in photo-illustration and his work expanded the meaning of that hyphenate for over forty years. If photography was rock-n-roll he would have been Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton, Pete Townsend and Jimi Hendrix rolled into one. The man could wail!

I came to Atlanta in January of 1979 to attend art school hoping to find my way into studio photography.  After a few months, I landed a job feeding film into a machine at E6 Labs.  There, I discovered in the catch tray of that machine what the best photographers in town did to make a living day in and day out.  I soon learned to discount the beauty shots on poster sized Kromekote. It was Krystal burgers, women's underwear and anything for Coca-Cola that kept the top professionals in their BMWs and bad habits.

But then there was Arington Hendley. This guy was searching for something. A new way of seeing. A way to elevate the mundane and make it heroic. He didn't believe in zero sum. Even when he was taken advantage of, and he often was, he would carry-on as if it were the mere cost of doing business in an extraordinary industry.

I think that it was HE who was extraordinary. I saw him in good times and bad and he always chose to notice the good in the situation. He was gifted that way too. Everyone that knew him was affected by him.  Everyone that knew him knew his laugh. A laugh from the belly without reservation. A man of extremes, he loved fine cognac, competitive pistol shooting and hiking glaciers above the Arctic Circle, just to name a few. 

I saw him in November and met his wife and partner, Lynda. He was a happy man. The world wasn't being kind to him and his health was failing yet he looked forward to working everyday. He also revealed to me that he'd once thought about becoming a world-class chef and I believe I remarked that that revelation wasn't lost on me. His work was always a dish made of the finest ingredients poked and prodded to perfection and delivered to the client just the way they ordered.

For me it comes down to this, Arington Hendley was my friend and I am so much richer for it. So long, my friend. There are no more deadlines for you to sweat over so roll one up and order us a pie. I'll see you soon enough.

Pay no attention to that man...

For Trump, I think it's the license to be an absolute asshole to the parents of dead soldiers, the victims of disaster, to elder statesmen, to decorated warriors, and even to our neighbors that bothers me most. In his defense, he's ALWAYS been an asshole. It's one of his more endearing qualities. His minions see the curtain moving and would rather cower before the pyrotechnic facade than see the man for whom he is. If anyone dares approach they will hear his thumbs tweeting out, "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain."

The problem is he is not Oz. I mean, THAT would be swell. That means he would be the oafish huckster caught up in his own bullshit and that a precocious young girl could yank him back from the precipice of stupidity so he could steer the balloon back to Kansas. I've been to Kansas, so I understand his reticence.

But "the Donald" is an Oz of a different stripe. He's Ozymandias. If you haven't heard of him, go here. If you do know him, let's run a checklist to see if our POTUS qualifies for the honorific.

Grandiose self-image:  Check
Unchecked ambition:  Check
Eternal enmity toward those who disagree with him:  Check
No shame nor taint of conscience:  Check
Uses human shields:  Check, check, check, check, check...
Loathes the sick, the poor, the handicapped and especially immigrants:  BIG Check although he's sure some of them are very fine people...

We hereby affirm that Donald J. Trump is OUR Ozymandias!  And like most despoilers reeking of hubris, he will be remembered. His craven image will join the pantheon of the misbegotten dedicated to those that could have done so much more if they'd only had a heart. Until then, we may look on his works and...

Okay okay, I get it now...

I gave up on this blog last year after the country lost its shit and put a television personality in the White House. I have to apologize for that. I've always said that we get the presidents we deserve. 100% of vociferous malcontents agree, "He's the BEST! He's doing EXACTLY what we wanted." If by that you mean he's systematically undermining the very foundations of our democracy, then YES, yes he is!

While I knew he would be the usurper of all that is holy in D.C., I hadn't counted on the depth of our elected official's sycophancy. By now, ten months in, I am amazed that someone from either side of the aisle hasn't hung themselves from the gallery railing around the house floor out of guilt. It only takes a few minutes on C-Span to see what I'm talking about. When the camera sweeps the room watch for the ones with their heads in their hands and it's that kind of day, AGAIN! And there are more than three years to go. I mean, what were we thinking?

Personally, it's the vivisection of the GOP and to a lesser extent the Dems that enthuses me most about the current state of the union.  The two parties have had their run.  It's time again to renew our faith in the systems our forefathers worked so hard to get right. They knew Democracy will always be messy.  So stop demonizing the other side and let's get on with it for Christ's sake! Obviously the GOP needs to divide itself along the lines set out by the Tea Party. So let them be the third party. Go forth and be the party of usurpers. Selah.

As for the remainders, let them become NeoPublicans. No more GOP. Leave the Republicans in the grave they dug for themselves beside the historical Anti-Adminstration and Toleration parties. Time for new blood and ideas to bear up the weight of all this inanity. Time to heal thyself, gentlemen and gentleladies. Our country is at stake. Demagoguery has no place in a democracy. Leave that shit in church where it belongs.

This country can stand the strain and if by blood we need to seal the deal then count me among those who take the fight to our enemies. The enemy of truth. The enemy of thoughtfulness. The enemy of tolerance. The enemy of science. The enemy of the natural world. The enemy of reason. The enemy of hope. Let us declare war on all those that oppose us in this our holy quest. The quest for real democratic ideals of equality, opportunity and shared responsibility that our forefathers intended. Let us do THEM proud again. Yes yes, some were slavers AND the Mother Church burned people at the stake so can anyone say, "Bygones!"

America is STILL great. Our preeminence has not waned nearly as much as the naysayers of Breitbart, Hannity, Drudge, Limbaugh or Jones would have us believe. So let us start with THEM! Let's put them back where they belong--in their place along the tattered edge of reason. Out there on the fringe with the tin-foil hat crowd. The chem-trail theorists. The birthers and the bigots. Let's starve them for air.  Let us once again be embarrassed by our ignorance and make amends. For there is no shame in ignorance save for the sole exception of maintaining it.

But therein lies the rhubarb. If someone enjoys the aforementioned purveyors of pettiness and pseudo-outrage then they are indeed lost to reason. They're simply there for their daily ration of spew. They would rather brush their remaining teeth with hemorrhoid cream than be bothered with the WHOLE truth about anything.

Trust me, I can tell you this.

One more thing...

What I believed possible has come to pass, yes, the Donald has become the next POTUS.  Not that I voted for him or approve of his brand of buffoonery but rather I am old enough now to understand what a populace that feels marginalized can do when faced with more of the same. 

Rallying his minions beneath the banner of "it's THEM" and lip-syncing the siren song of 'Murica Furst, the Donald's stance on immigration and terrorism is as astute as any factoid wielding FoxNews bobble-head. With apologies to Mr. Gore, the truth was damned from the start for BEING inconvenient.
 
The evil that foments acts of terrorism doesn't discriminate based on age, income or even race, gender or hair color. It’s only purpose is to terrorize. When the fear becomes palpable it pushes us to demean or diminish those we see as different. It underscores the darkness, not the light.

History shows that barring those that would bring hard work, generosity and vision to our country is always a mistake. People who judge others only by their national origin or gender are always proved short on wisdom. Defending angry words as mere jokes or as slips of the tongue never works. All is revealed.

When we speak with respect and seek first to understand, we are charting a better course for us all. In the coming year, let us not give-in to the fear. Let us be slow to anger. Let us be wise.

Hoping for us all a very-very Happy New Year!

always,