Where do they find these people?

I've lived long enough to see one president assassinated, one fall from grace and hold up double peace signs before departing on Marine 1 for obscurity. Then saw his second in-command exonerate him while stumbling through his one term. Then a submariner peanut farmer who built houses for poor people (with his own tools), the great and fallible yet always entertaining Ronnie Reagan and then Clinton getting impeached for getting his brass polished in the oval office while on the clock. Talk about multitasking! Then came Dubya. Okay maybe we should table his tenure for different tirade. 

After that we came up for air, embraced the angels of our better nature and put a mulatto in the big chair. A place where no blackish man had gone before. Except maybe to fix a squeak or a tear in the upholstery. We did ourselves proud. We did good. Those that hate him still hate him for actually being way better than they expected.

Then came Trump. He who parlayed bloviation into political gold. Who knew? C'mon, I'm not always the brightest bulb in the fixture but really? What am I missing? These people make shit up about so much so often that you'd better not stand close for fear of being covered in it yourself. Now that the law has caught up with this asshole, his minions are doubling down with righteous indignation beating their breasts and blaming the very system they created. Go figure.

One ass-hat whose name rhymes with Sebastian Gorka had the temerity (he has a camel-back full of the stuff) to take offense at a direct question about the evidence presented at Trump's arraignment. Rather than answer the question he began berating the journalist even questioning their language skills, "You don't speak English, do you? Obviously you don't because you haven't heard a word I said." 

Which was nothing more than a feckless diversionary tactic. Knowing that, the reporter kept calm and let Gorka blather on about weaponized injustice like a pimple-face kid that memorized a brochure for the John Birch Society. If you can't answer honestly, call the questioner mean and stupid and a homo brain and promise to have them beat up. One thing's for certain he is definitely invited to the Trump Towering Inferno Christmas party this year. Rudi will not be invited. Unless he brings his own liquor!

I have it on Q authority they're trying out some new uniform designs for the future. Gorka's will no doubt invoke a Himmler-esque Darth Vader vibe paired with Goering's jodhpurs and jack boots. Either way, you just know it'll have one of those long zippers up the back so he can make a quick costume change. 

Just in case

Friends are always welcome

 Me and the missus, we did it. Turned away from all rabid factions. Covid had it's way with us too and we're still here. For sure some did not make it. Some fell for other reasons altogether. Heart attack, cancer, self-inflicted or whatever. Half of those that died of Covid had already succumbed to ignorance and suspicion long before the virus took them. Their reward was choking to death on what they didn't know. Instead, what they believed was ill suited for warding off contagion. Their faith may have been bigger than a mustard seed but the thing that killed them was microscopic. Strychnine would've been kinder.

We've gotten good at making all of our own meals now. Spend time dreaming of better days ahead. Together. Yes, we'll have two to go, please. Everything has to be portable. We're lightening the ship. Collections put up for auction, extras made scarce, if it hasn't been used in a year, hell, a decade, sell it, give it or Goodwill it! Lighter and nimbler is the aim. 

A hovel on a mountain is the goal. Some place off the beaten. Defensible. It's something we've talked about for years. A cabin in the woods. One with a view or set back in the trees near a brook with trout. Up past where the gravel ends. Down the red clay made hard by us and the neighbors and a scheduled road-grader. Up and up up up then around then down again till where the gravel picks up again. Up one more time then leveling out, you arrive at the gate. 

We are here. We heard your tires crunching gravel. Saw your approach on the critter cams. We're here waiting. Punch the code and come on up. Put it in park and set the brake. Just in case. There's good bourbon and comfort inside. Hurry in, a storm's coming. 

When the truth fails...

Okay, I have to admit something. I live in Florida and I'm a conservative. This is not something I am proud of right now. Of either one. But I digress too soon. First we need a little context.

Conquistadors made landfall near St. Augustine in 1565 and shortly thereafter... aw hell, you know what happened and the natives didn't have a say much less a chance. Florida has entertained its share of villainy and prosperity in equal measure. From the aforementioned Spaniards to the Brits to pirates to slavers, to common profiteers, St. Augustine was just the tip of the spear with regards to what men will do in the name of king, queen, country or company when really it's always just about the money.

Fast forward to now and it doesn't take a degree to understand that this place, like most of America, either by way of the sword, bullets or the common cold succumbed to Manifest Destiny. I'm guessing the Timucua had never heard of herd immunity. Back then we spelled genocide another way--progress. 

Now a pudgy malignancy named Ron DeSantis, our current gov, has become a darling of the Tea Party cum neo-Nazi MAGA hat wearing set that have infected, nay, subverted the GOP. The Republicans are no longer the standard bearers of conservatism but rather a brutish bug-eyed buffoonery normally associated with survivalists, lynchings and Trump rallies. Bobert, Taylor-Green, and Gaetz are but minions. Blindly supportive, loyal to a fault, cultish and mostly lacking in any walking around sense.

They either cannot nor will not stand right-wise to the truth. Rather the truth is buried under a flurry of denial and misdirection and capped off with a two ton slab of certainty. And people loooooooove certainty. Goes right along with their notions of right and wrong. They like things tidy. Neatly wrapped in sanctity and slathered in dogma with a side of damnation. 

Personally, I think they've lost their way inside Donald Trump's colon, can't tell up from down and apparently not one of them brought a flashlight. Or any walking around sense. But I have not lost mine. My conservatism is intact. Theirs is a barrel of rotting fish left on the dock in August. If we would just kick it off so the bottom feeders could appropriately deal with the contents, we might all sleep better. 

Till that day comes, DeSantis will continue to take a cue from his progenitor and lie about anything and everything that he deems worthy to perjure himself for as long as it makes him look presidential. Like he said, "The future of America is at stake!" Heck, even a blind pig finds an acorn once in awhile.

DeSantis is proof of concept for the neo-GOP and their corporate handlers. Remake local governments into fiefdoms for the party. Control the spin into a downward spiral and blame the Democrats when anything gets wonky. They are the bringers of all things terrible. To socialize with a Democrat is to ladle the steaming contents of Das Kapital into your lap without benefit of pants or even a dinner napkin. Even if they are your beloved family members and neighbors you must demean, deride, demonize, deplore and blame them for all our country's woes.

If by chance the Democrats manage to lose again, I know DeSantis will celebrate by grabbing his own ass with both hands so he can fuck the remaining oxygen out of the room. There's a whole lot of smoke in the DeSantis household but not one friggin mirror. This is what we get in Florida's GOP owned state house and gov'nors mansion. More of the same. A grandstanding wind bag who'll spend taxpayer dollars to redistribute immigrant families to other states and blame the Democrats all while making friends in low places everywhere. Lord help us!

Blood and circuses...

Cicero would have had a field day with the latest tragedy replayed in Uvalde, TX.  I miss Ann Richards with her blonde bouffant which I believe was a cooling system for that wit. The same one she kept sharp as a freshly stropped razor and quicker with it than Sweeney Todd.  And I miss Molly Ivans for calling the bastards out with frequency and aplomb.  I also miss what Hunter S. Thompson might have said too.  He was a lifelong .44 magnum fan.  He was also a fan of the truth no matter how ugly. God, I miss the acerbic wit of them all.

With them gone, here I go.  Feeble and growing older by the minute it's time for me to speak up... again. But first a few caveats about me: I'm a ginger, a marksman, a father, a husband, a coworker, a woodworker, a reformed evangelical, a hiker and a lover of movies, women, a friend to all dogs, a proud G-Pa who loves some musical theater, damnit!  Stanley Kubrick and Stephen Sondheim are the GOATs.

But what do we do about the most recent school shooting in Uvalde, TX. Mourn and lick our wounds. That's all we can do today. Tomorrow is another thing.  

The Gun Control Act of '68 was put into place after a decade of high profile assassinations. Shoot the famous and things get done. Shoot up a school full of grade school children or a nightclub full of revelers and you get squeals from the gun lobby about freedom and commies and freedom and God-given guns and FREEDOM! Like some K Street suit in Braveheart makeup brandishing an M5 over his head while dancing on the hood of his/her Hummer.

The GCA '68 created a separate classification for destructive devices such as bazookas, grenade launchers and fully automatic weapons. I remember my older brother getting an army surplus M1 Garrand. Beautiful! He still has it and as far as I know, hasn't used it on anything but paper and spent shotgun shells. The Greatest Generation chased Tojo and Hitler back into the holes from which they came with those rifles. 

Fast forward to today, we have weapons capable of killing an entire room of grade school children with one clip. The Garrand only holds eight rounds. Think about that. How many rounds do you need to take on Bambi? Or your government? The same government with drones, M1 Abrams, Apaches and Javelin missiles? Yeah, that one.

How about we move the assault rifle and all its variants into the Class III destructive devices category? The legislation already exists! Then we can grandfather in (no reg fee) any preexisting weapons into a registry with teeth. You own an AR, you have a record. The G men know where your ARs are. Fuck up and it disappears along with your freedom! Which means we are held responsible for any ill purveyed upon the public by the willful or negligent misuse of said firearm. Carrot and stick. Simple.

I also believe that if you are prescribed and taking psychotropic medications, you have to give up all things that go bang until you are cleared. You're depressed, dipwad, that's why!  You're manic-depressive, you numbskull!  You're taking meds to perk you up or perk you down, tapioca brain! In other words, if you can't control your behavior without medications, you sure as shit don't need an AR with a thirty round clip in the house. The 2nd Amendment wasn't about you! Just sayin...

Maybe we just hold them for you? How about leaving them with friends or relatives? Fine, but they have to know that they'll be added to the registry too. It's as simple as this, we have licenses to drive cars and have to prove that we can do so safely. Why is it that we can't do the same for civilian owned military weapons?

One things for certain, the fight for real democracy, freedom and justice will always be with us. Right now, I think we need to hold the do-nothing bastards in congress up by their ears and tan their asses as my mom would say. Now my Dad, he would have added, "Oughta take a machine gun and..." 

It's the crime, er uh the climb, baby...

Alright already!  President Good Brain is officially a loser!  I say, Godspeed for that cumquat color coiffed carpetbagger!  Now it's time for him to dance with the Southern District of New York and answer for his talents.  But politics being a bloodless sport [insert wink here] we here in the real world will have to carry on while he bangs the drum for reinstatement while trying to plug all the holes in the Big Lie.

I'm thinking CPAC has a gold-leaf lined glory-hole somewhere off to the side where a coterie of only the most ardent supplicants kneel and pay for the privilege to hear a loop of his best snark thrown at the poor, the immigrant, every liberal and Mike Pence [who will never be forgiven]. You'll need to ask a German national of a certain age to understand the implications for the future. 

For me, I remember when you didn't touch the flag with your bare hands.  This guy gropes, smooches and dry-humps the flag on stage and the very folks who drilled into my soft head that the flag was as sacred a symbol as Jesus on the cross gave that POS a standing ovation.  So for this guy, the only mountain he hasn't climbed yet is the last one. The one where the reward is sitting at the right hand of God. Jesus better watch out. You can imagine the latest speech in his ongoing usurpation campaign...

Virgin births are overrated. He's only half Jewish! How do we know he wasn't just the spawn of some one-night stand with a Roman soldier. We all know women love a uniform. The place was crawling with them. I have a gardener named Jesus. I'm just saying, do we really want a savior from some no-name shit-hole in the middle east with all his minor miracles, a fish in every basket... fake news, people!  

Wouldn't you rather have an extremely successful world class real estate developer with great hair from the greatest city on Earth to lead you into the light?  

Your call.

Unless I'm mistaken...

How many times will we get an all access pass to see and photograph the world scant of humanity? A downtown devoid of any sign of life?  Crickets and tumbleweeds. If tumbleweeds grew here. So maybe I'll tackle the garage. Sort, organize, whinnie down, consolidate and eliminate.  Nah, who am I kidding? I'd rather drink and drive back to the liquor store.

I'm really missing the food truck rally every third Thursday.  Right now, I'd kick your granny down the stairs for a BBQ brisket with smoked Gruyere on a toasted butter bathed brioche.  Notice I said YOUR granny.  Mine would pitch me over the porch hand-railing before I could even say brioche.  Spry as she is for ninety four.  God I hope I get them genes. 

So as I was saying, Trump... nah, screw that!  I'm not saying squat about him today.

Some have said COVID-19 has been our harbinger of better days ahead, well if you're a sociopath or an oligarch then hell yeah!  But what I'm currently amazed at is the depth of denial and deflection so many of my generation have openly displayed toward the legitimate victims of the pandemic along with their disdain for the professionals trying desperately to keep us safe in a Whitehouse run by a narcissist and his model from a bottle wife?  Ever wonder what SHE thinks?  Nah, I didn't think so.

And then there's police murdering people who themselves are shielded from prosecution by qualified immunity.  And we are shocked by riots and civil unrest by people of color.  Really?  Is there anyone else around who remembers 1969 and Watts?

Yes, yes, looting never proves anything other than thieving bastards will steal anything ain't tied down.  Even if they were, enterprising thieves will borrow bolt cutters from the tool department to finish the job.  And I'm talking your everyday thief before the virus took over and turned us all into pod people.

Yeppers, life is good.

A brave new whaaaa...

I quit.  Specifically, I quit reading the newspaper.  Cold turkey.  Blackout on the daily read and wrangle.  Guess what, my blood pressure dropped back into normal range too.  Coincidence?  Maybe.  Or maybe eating right and going to the gym helped.  I mean, it did before I stopped reading the paper.  Anyway, it was the constant gyre and gimble in the wabe that got to me.  The POTUS is this the POTUS is that sort of stuff.  The POTUS is.  And that's all there is till next time.

Even so, I am still perplexed.  In the history of the realm, our greatest presidents moved the country with their words in a positive direction together.  Think Washington, Jefferson, Adams, Lincoln, both Roosevelts, Kennedy, Reagan and even Obama.  Theirs was a voice of reason and of binding together.  That cannot be said of the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.  A man who placates neo-Nazis and white supremacists while blaming the left for calling him out and being the left.

Knowing that Trump will go down as an aberration and not a harbinger gives me comfort.  He has served as I predicted and has not deviated from the course I believed he would chart during his tenure.  That of blowing up MY party [Republican] and dividing the nation through segregation, exclusion and demonization.  As long as the economy holds, the country is his oyster.  And he came to shuck.  This has always been his way.  The zebra cannot change its stripes.

His too is the way of all populist despots.  Pump up your base by feeding their fear and prejudice with nostalgia.  Promise them Nirvana and pillory the naysayers.  Call them sore losers.  Losers!  His is ever thus a world of bluster over substance.  Of prenuptial and nondisclosure agreements and a plurality of barristers.  Of patting himself on the back because well no one else can do it as well as he can.

His presidency will be remembered as one of deepened deficit spending leading to even deeper national indebtedness and environmental degradation while reassuring us that it's going to be so good, tremendous and beautiful that we'll become sick of it. That last part he got right.  Even now some of his minions have begun to question their decision in following such a man.  To that I say, about damn time and pass the barf bags.