The Gasbag Deflation Act

Add gas stoves to the list of divisive “culture war” issues right up there with climate change, gun control, abortion, critical race theory, wokeness, etc. Congressman Bill Huizinga (MI-04) has chosen an attack-and-divide strategy instead of trying to bring his constituents together to solve major issues facing Southwest Michigan. He seems to be more interested in shamelessly begging for attention with his recent introduction of the STOVE Act (Stop Trying to Obsessively Vilify Energy). The bill would bar federal restrictions or bans on gas-powered stoves. Huizinga’s silly knee-jerk response to a chair of the Consumer Product Safety Commission who misguidedly said that gas stove “products that can’t be made safe can be banned.” The Commission later clarified that comment stating that the U.S. is not considering a ban but simply wants to draw attention to potential hazards of home gas emissions and to make gas stoves safer. Multiple scientific studies have shown that gas stoves emit nitrogen dioxide and other respiratory irritants, including the known carcinogen benzene, associated with respiratory symptoms such as asthma in children and adults. Consumers may want to consider electric stoves and appliances instead of gas.

The Biden Administration is not trying to “vilify” energy. Promoting electricity and making gas appliances safer are not incompatible goals. Perhaps we need a GASBAG Deflation Act: Gratuitously Attacking Sensible Beneficial Alternatives to Gas – – to counter the type of grandstanding legislation proposed by Rep.Huizinga.


I plan to run for office as a Republican somewhere and sometime soon for a particular office yet to be announced. But trust me. It’s Big.

Who am I? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lawrence Santooz. My parents were humble peasants who escaped the Holocaust and the killings fields of Pol Pot in Cambodia. (They later pulled themselves up by their bootstraps to become American oligarchs and successful venture capitalists.) Perhaps a synopsis of my curriculum vitae will help.

I am a Gentleman. Of a certain age. In my younger days I held various positions of vital importance to the welfare, vitality and robustness of our nation. In my capacity as a young Wall Street Banker I led a team on a $3.2 billion acquisition of a publicly traded company by a large private equity firm and was Involved in initial due diligence, preparation of the CIM, creation of the PowerPoint deck, etc.

I Graduated magna cum laude as a Presidential Scholar and was on the

Dean’s List all semesters at several elite Coastal Colleges. As a youngster I received a full scholarship to attend Sidwell Friends School in Washington D. C. and became lifelong friends with many children of Presidents and other influentials.

Upon graduating from my elite colleges in the 1990s I was recruited by NASA to join its elite Astronaut Academy and upon successful completion with high honors I flew on various intergalactic missions to Mars and Uranus. Following my stints at NASA, I devoted several years to negotiating for the release of many American hostages imprisoned in communist nations including former Chicago Bulls star Dennis Rodman, child TV star Pee Wee Herman and Chelsea Clinton. After the 9-11 attack on the Twin Towers, from which I narrowly escaped after rescuing many workers trapped on the 188th floor, I decided to join the CIA as a Special Elite Forces “agent provocateur” and led the first Secret Force Termination Unit that unearthed Saddam Hussein in his “spider hole.” This experience inspired me years later to volunteer to storm the hideout of Osama Bin Laden. Although I cannot publicly assert the truth that I was the first of our brave unit to shoot Bin Laden to death, my government may someday attest to this fact when the history books are written.

My recent accomplishments include inventing Lithium-ion anti-depressant supplements used to combat buyers remorse for owners of Tesla automobiles and donating my sperm to Elon Musk to propagate his ten children. Although I have taken a sabbatical from active public employment I devote special time to the rescue of indigent South American donkeys which have been abandoned in coffee plantations. My Juan Valdez Balthazar Donkey Foundation has raised sums in the billions to care for these cruelly treated beasts of burden. And lastly, since sports are an integral part of the American spirit and culture, my humble athletic endeavors probably should merit mention. As captain of our water polo team at an elite college a bronze statue of my classic cuts and dribbles has been commissioned and is still in the process of construction by famed artist Claes Oldenburg. Besides excelling in Pétanque lawn bowling, I also perform part-time as a visiting dancer in the Bolshoi ballet and conduct Drag Queen Story Hour events in local communities.

So, I feel it’s high time I answer to a higher calling which can only mean election to a high office. I believe in the motto, for which I hold a copyright, that as man makes the clothes, so do the clothes make the man. My sartorial choices…old-school preppy, vintage button sweaters and white button-down bespoke shirts that when worn with a dark merino wool crew neck sweater almost gives me a trustworthy, priestly Roman collar appearance, along with the occasional cardigans wrapped insouciantly backward around my waist say volumes about my status as a uber-man in the American heritage tradition of Self-Made Man.

Stay tuned as my Republican cohorts gather round me in my pursuit of my American Dream and fend off inevitable Democrat attacks on me and my amazing career. I look forward as the nation embraces me in all my meaningful and persuasive confidence and anxiously await serving you and all the American people. God Bless America.

Gaslight Me, Mama: A 2020 RapUp

Gaslight the truth
Don’t birth the proof
Curse the candle
Don’t light the night
Just turn the screw
In 2022.

Gaslight me, darlin’
Don’t skip the loo
The number one question
It’s gut health digestion
Our national obsession
In the year of 2022.

Gaslight me, mama
Have a Musk QAnon moment
Gag me on Red Pills
On your hands keep sitting
Magically Twitting
While quietly quitting.

Gaslit fool parent hoards
Swooped and swarmed
School boards
To purge woke books
Neither read nor remember’d
That offended
Their conspiracy agenda.
Overdue diligence
Calls for vigilance
Rehired and unleashed
The recently released
Iranian Morality Police.

So- Long COVID
You’re here to stay
Now we RSVP to RSV.
Bye-bye, adios, ciao and adieu
To grouchy
Dr. Fauci
Our nation lifts its lonely masks to you.

Gaslight me,Johnny
And slander the Amber
Heard that her turd
In his bed wasn’t legit
But actually just
His missing digit.

Gaslit golf in the hot Saudi sands
Golf fans whisper from Arabian Grandstands
Hopin’ to LIV thru 54 holes
Of the Kashoggi International Bloody
To birdie oil field fairways
All sand traps
And balls that thud like a Will Smith slap;
And players stroke with lousy Saudi
Die-for putters
The tried and true
Bone saw cutters.

Shine your light ye gaseous fascist
Oh come all Ye’s faithful
Kan ye’s fateful disgraceful
Kamikaze quest
To be a proxy Nazi guest
To honor the very
Non GeniusStable
Big Gasbag o’Lard
at his Mar-a-lago
BigMac table
And grift his Duper
Pooper Hero cards.

Gaslight me, sweetheart
Cringe me like Ivanka naughty
On her daddy’s knee so haughty
“It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.”
Take a vacation from nasal irrigation
Anti-histamine heros just blow their noses
And swiftly tailor broken-hearted roses,

Excessive progressives’
Bespoke toke wokeism
Caused a regressive
Elitism schism
Turned off mid-roaders
So West Virginia Joe
His foot to the gas-guzzling pedal
To build his dirty coal Back Better.

Skinny blaming
Fat shaming
Body image Autotomous
Kardashies and Lizzos
Try shedding their bulging wiggling tails
Evading Instagramie enemies,
TikToky flockies
Gold medaling the Ozempic Olympics.

Are your nouns pro or are they con?
Are you more or less
A personal pronoun
On demand and hindering
Alphabet gender rendering?
Ask your doctor if
Is right for you.

Rovy Wade unlocked
Her old coat hangers
Dobbed and robbed
By five extreme
Supreme goatbangers
Who lit the gaslight fuse
Midterms elected and selected
Her right to choose.

Too blonde to fail
Too blonde to jail.
For Elizabeth Holmes
We suspect
Orange is her new black

Top of mind secrets
Mar-a-Lago sneaklets
Stashed in Ivanna’s
Golf course grave
Or saved instead
In his sweaty
Orange tanning bed.
Those KimJong and Putin love letters
And nuke codes for sale
Or blackmail
By the broke Despot Debtor
He’ll someday have to post the cheddar
For his own go to jail bail.

Gaslights shine afar
Under damaged Ukrainian stars
The Moscow mule rides
Shirtless astride
A little Fox News Tucker
Masters only to themselves
Tiny egomaniacal evil elves.

That midnight train from
Georgia left Herschel
With just a rehearsal
For his MAGA erection election
When Runoff Rev
Beat the Walkering Dread
Voters chose to his chagrin
The Pulpit over the Pigskin.

Gaslighting Royals
Despite constant turmoil
Planted the Queen under fresh topsoil
And Charles finally collected his spoils.
While Meghan and Harry
Found it necessary
To resurrect not bury
Imaginary slights
With juicy Netflix sound bites
Under the dimming Royal gaslights.

Don’t gaslight the truth
Just birth the proof
Don’t curse the candle
Light up the night
Keep up the fight
Let a few more agree
In Twenty Twenty-Three.

So for 2023
Some New Year Rants and Wishes
Wash your dirty Twitter dishes.
Can we be WOKE yet not dogmatic?
It really is quite problematic.
Lighten up and don’t be mean.
We’re Weary Of Kiboshing Everything.
Here’s a job in case you missed it:
“Reproductive Justice Activist.”
And do we really need Doggie DNA kits?
Maybe Crypto is really Crapto.
Quit saying things/people “broke the internet.” (Looking at you, Taylor Swift.)
Let’s stop saying something or someone is “Top of Mind.”
Stop the Drop. No more “dropping” songs. Just record and publish them.
Death Doulas?
Every large event or gathering is not a “palooza.“
Unless it’s a music fest of John Phillip Sousa.

Happy New Year
From Lawrence Rudmann
December 2022 ©️

P. S. To keep the New Year top of mind, take a deep dive and experience some previous End of Year RAPUps that were dropped and that broke the Internet at:; or just

2021:The Assignment

2020: Lost and Found

2019: The Perfect Year

2018: Party On
2017: Lady Liberty & The Beast

2016: A Year of Living Fearfully

2014: Hoarding and Lording

2013: A Year in RearView

2012: Foreclosed But Not Forgotten

Don’t Control Guns – Ban Guns

Unfortunately, time to re-post this:

Don’t Control Guns – Ban Guns
Pass the “No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act”.

After every major mass gun slaughter I suggest The U. S. enact this law.

Enough is enough!

Here’s what we need:

Don’t control guns, ban them.

Presidential/Executive “Re-interpretation” of the Second Amendment concomitant with enactment by Congress or Presidential Fiat of the “No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act” also to be known as the “No Right to Own Guns Act.”

The new law bans the manufacture, import and sale of firearms and ammunition for non-military actions in the U. S. and its territories.

Phase One: A Federal ban on the civilian purchase of any firearm. This means hand guns, assault rifles, shotguns, hunting rifles, target/sport firearms. Also BB guns and similar varmint-hunting guns such as pellet guns. Also banned are potato “spud” guns, rubber band guns and all NERF-type projectile-emitting gun facsimiles. The law also bans all toy guns including any type of liquid-squirting “water” guns. (BB/pellet and NERF-type guns and toy guns are “gateway weapons” that lead to future desire/addiction to possess and use bullet-based firearms). Violation of the “No Gun Left Behind Act” is a zero tolerance, “one strike you are out” violation resulting in a minimum income-based fine of $20,000 and up. Inability or refusal to pay the fine shall result in a minimum one year sentence to a Firearm Practice Farm for Federal Agents as a live target decoy. (Sentence commuted after one year if prisoner survives)

Phase Two: The President shall order all citizens to turn in to Federal Authorities any and all firearms & ammunition they own or possess. Firearm owners complying will be compensated for the price that they paid for the firearm(s) plus a cash bonus and lifetime membership in the National No Rifle Association. Refusal to comply will result in fines and/or Decoy Duty on a Federal Firearms Farm.

Phase Three: The National Guard, branches of the U.S. military forces, Federal policing agents including the FBI, will conduct house-to-house inspections nationally for the purpose of confiscation of firearms. Non-compliance will result in Federal Firearm Farm Decoy Duty.

Phase Four: Local police will be required to “Stop & Frisk” suspected gun carriers at any time or place. Citizens will also be rewarded with cash bonuses for alerting police or Federal authorities to anyone who they suspect possessing a firearm. Any U. S. resident who has previously obtained or applied for a firearms permit will be entered into the National Red Flag GunUsingNuttyNabobsUsuallyTwitching (GUN NUT) database as potential mass shooters.

Hunters and firearm sport enthusiasts will be able to rent approved firearms from the federal government for limited use. Firearm renters, like auto renters, shall have proper insurance.

Traditional firearm-based hunters who choose not to rent firearms but still want to hunt will be provided with federal training in bow & arrow, knife and “persistence hunting” (stalking and chasing game on foot until animal is caught).

Black market distribution of firearms will be controlled by U. S. Revenueurs, a special elite strike force of Federal and civilian under-cover GUN SWATTERS. GUNSWAT Funding for national firearm prohibition will be diverted from now defunct state, local and Federal drug enforcement since Congress will have passed the “Freedom to Purchase & Use Any Drug Act” which gives Americans the right to legally purchase and use any drug.

This should be considered only the first steps in freeing our country of the curse of firearms. Once these actions are enacted then maybe America will take serious action to ban guns. (OR MAYBE, just perhaps, Congress could enact some lesser gun restrictions, like a ban on assault weapons of mass destruction.)

The Assignment 2021 Rap-Up


They understood the Assignment
To Flip the script
On January Sixth
Insurrection infection
Election rejection
A Q’anon-shamed shaman
The Beast a’Blamin’
Scheming & screaming
Behind the scenes
Like those feral pigs Invaded
Our Nation’s parks
Marinated and raided the Capitol
In fanatical
Conspiracy wild hog slop.
Huffin’ & Puffin’ venting His spleen
Seething and
Greasing the truth with Hydroxychloroquine.
Those damn Venezuelan voting machines.

The Big Lie
Pie in the Sky
Goodbye MAGA red road
We still have to reap
But don’t have to keep
The evil that we sowed.

Twitter and Facebook
The assignment
Made the case to hook
And Banned
The Bitter Beast
to Mar-a-Lago confinement.

Some of us
The dumb of us
The thumbs-down of us
didn’t understand the assignment
Just three lil’ jabs
The Lord he’ll protect you if you don’t
But won’t protect you if you do.

You’ll scream, “A lil’ jab’ll do ya”
Let us ask
We asked,
For variant facts
From deviant hacks
The Great Emaskulation
Vaxulation stagnation
Lax vaxxed Americana.

Mask mass shootings
With TP Thoughts’n Prayers
By besotted fraud squad
Boebert & Green
Two THOTs impaired.
Pass the Ammo
Wear the camo
Like baby Kyle
AR-15 cap-backward style
Don’t despair
Don’t knock it
Shoot the moon
You’ll be immune
On a rocket
Launched by a billionaire.

You lost your assignment
Excuse was confinement
Shorting subReddit
GameStop popped
Non-fungibles broken
Like micro-dosed
Non-fungi tokens
Magical shroom
No elephants in the room
This assignment made as much sense
As this goofy crypto stanza.

The Great Resignation
Nation’s economy Rigged for Gigs
The Great Gigsination
Understood the assignment
Behind it.
So Grab your own Grub
Deliver yourself
From from the
The Great Vax Mandation
Take this jab and love it.

Libs called dibs
On “Own the libs”
And ended up owning themselves.
Awoke to toke
The Progressive woke
Wokes don’t ever joke
They just provoke.
And choke
The works on election day
A super-spreader
Wokeism event
Discussions of
Progressive Instructions:
Wear your Systemic Structural Nonbinary Finery;
Get your Heteronormative CIS Critical Latinx fix;
Do your best to protest
At the anti-Racist Microaggressive white privileged chest-feeding front-holed they-them, cancelled woke fest.
(Over-understood that assignment In the Faculty Lounge.)

Jewish space lasers
Igniting forest fires
Repooblickin’ ballot erasers
JKF Jr alive not satire
Hillary controls cicada drones
To keep Trump from ever Reclaiming the throne.

We swallowed the fool-aid
From our self-buttressing Information depositories;
Inserted conspiracy

Our planet
We ran it
On blood and oil
The future soiled
The Globe’s not warm
It’s hot the norm
We should be sobsters
Don’t look up we’re all boiled
In the pot
Like blinded lobsters.

“Birds are not real”
Stop the steal
We wondered
Where the good wine went
Instead of understanding
The damn assignment.

Curtseying Krysten
And Machinating Machin
Declined the Squad’s
Demand for dancin’.
Understood their assignment
To Build Back Better
But whacked the cheddar
And stuck
Like a cargo ship in cement.

Checks of stimulus
Expectations nebulous
The midnight Covid Incubus
On your chest
And still infects.

Our real National worry
To hurry
And get
A new Jeopardy
Alex Trebek…
Maybe Tiger
When he recovers from
His triple bogey wreck?

UnSocial Media
Understood the assignment
Let’s make the world worse
With a Deep Fake metaverse
With Zucker
And Tucker
Hot to trot
Shuckin’ the Fox Rot dance
In a post-truth monetized trance.

Cicadas emerged
Inflation surged
Time to dig out
The old Whip Inflation Now Button pin
And maybe Kamala will reappear Again.

“So…” became
A popular new way
To start an answer
To any question…
Gives you the superior Advantage…at your discretion;
It’s better than “well”
And sure beats “uhh…” so start off always saying “So”! Duh!

2021 brought some relief
The NRA bankruption
Targeted by its total corruption.
Good riddance to
Flush Phlegmball
Not much grief.
The Beast was banished
But not yet vanished
Lurking in the sad bitter
Unvaxxed hearts of the peeved And aggrieved.
Joe understood what he was Assigned
By 80 plus milllion
But seems simply resigned
Like a eunuch’s ennui
At a celibate orgy.

Let’s agree to understand the Assignment
In 2022.
For the sake of the good old red White and blue.
Wear a mask…in crowds
Don’t attack school board volunteers.
Don’t buy an assault weapon…it’s Too tempting.
Don’t commit a mass murder.
Forget Mars.
Vax up…as many as you can get.
Don’t get into a tech billionaire’s rocket…one of them is going to crash in 2022.
Don’t drive your car into Christmas parades of marching kids and little old ladies.
Don’t try to overthrow the government. (Unless tRump wins again.)
Don’t hope for more Princess Di movies or shit.
Stay away from gender reveal parties..people still have them. (Unless it’s a Genital Reveal Party..then it’s an orgy).
Thinkin’ about joining a Smash ‘n Grab? Think again.
Don’t join a cult. Unless you’re
A Repooblican…then you’re already in one.
Don’t become a rapper…high death rate.
Don’t dance when you’re suddenly happy or get good news…You look stupid.
Don’t choose the best title ever for your novel “I Love You But I’ve Chosen Darkness.” Claire Vaye Watkins already did that.
Don’t confuse the fluff of life
With the real stuff of life.
And check out rapper Tay Money…Now that’s a sweet assignment.©️2021 L.Rudmann

Happy New Year

Lawrence Rudmann

Big Murder on Trump’s Watch

This happened on Trump’s watch. And he’s got to own it. The fourth year of his regime, 2020, was one of the most murderous in U. S. history. Largest one-year increase on record, a nearly 30% increase over the previous year with an additional 4,901 homicides in 2020 compared with the year before, the largest leap since national records started in 1960 for a total of 21,000+ murders. Lots of reasons: pandemic stress, civil unrest and proliferation of guns. But one other reason may eclipse all others: Trump himself. Or the Trumpification of America. “I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn’t lose any voters, OK?” Trump told supporters in 2016. Trump set the standard for lawlessness, criminality and mendacity as America’s law-breaker-in-Chief. Is it any wonder that low-life criminals, the mentally ill, the despairing, looked to Trump and said WTF, this guy’s the President and look what he gets away with. And he wants us all to own as many guns and mass-murder AR-15s as possible. Murder and mayhem. Thanks Trump. You own this.

Watch Out Americans: CRITICAL RACE THEORY is coming for You!!! …The Critical Race to Implement Critical Race Theory

CRT: in theory, it should critically jolt your heart into racing to the ICU.

CRT is the sleeper issue threatening to bring down our American Democracy and our very sacred American Way Of Life (AWOL). Why are Americans of European descent responsible for 100% of the problems and ills that challenge American society today? Under a recently exposed and possibly secret new law that some (many?)are saying could be proposed, the “White American Supremacy Prevention Act”, or (WASPA), Critical Race Theory instruction could be mandatory for White children beginning as soon as the attending physician or doola performs the omphalotomy (umbilical cord separation). Prenatal White pregnant mothers could also be strongly encouraged, although not required, to watch D.W. Griffith’s film The Birth of a Nation (1915) and listen nightly to selected speeches of Nation of Islam Leader Louis Farrakhan and Rev. Al Sharpton with a Government-issued Bluetooth speaker pressed firmly against baby bump.

This nefarious theory could be scheduled to infest and infect our nation’s schools with the possible, but who knows? passage of the “White American Supremacy Prevention Act (WASPA). Some of the possible measures in this purported new law could affect the very soul of our nation. Although CRT is a mysterious theory that few understand, every White American should certainly fear it. Here is some of the possible proposed language in this rumored new law:

CRT Education Syllabus for ages 1-5 as could be mandated by WASPA:

Special State-trained guides, “CRT Masters (or Massa’s,)” will conduct 2 hour daily in-home instruction for all White children on the history of how their parents have benefited from their White Privileges in American Society. Instruction will be enhanced thru State-produced children-oriented TV programming such as Mr. Rodger’s Red-lined Neighborhood, No Trees on Low-Income Sesame Street, and Defunda Peppa Piggies.”

CRT Syllabus for ages 6-12:

Mandatory parental readings to White children from the “People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn, whose book is described in Wikipedia as a “portrayal of American history as the exploitation and manipulation of the majority by rigged systems that hugely favor a small aggregate of elite rulers from across the orthodox political parties.”

Six to 12 year-olds shall also perform re-enactments in State-Run White Guilt Camps of slave ship life with a heuristic approach to rational and systemic modern racism.”

CRT Syllabus for 13 to 18 year olds.

Teen years should not be knowledge-lean years. Deep Dive Absorption in Modern Historical Culpability, Self-Condemnation and Reparational Statistics and Analysis will demand and ensure that this white cohort is prepared for a life regretful of his and her ancestral racist transgressions.”

Critical Race Theory implementation and inclusion into America’s education system is the first step toward who knows what! The only antidote is renewed emphasis on CRITICAL CRACKER THEORY (CCT) which has been the mainstay of the American education system since there was a system.

Mask Your Worries Away!New C.ovid O.cular V.irus I.noculation D.etector

With new CDC mask-off guidelines, how do you know who has been inoculated and who has not. Mask your worries with my C.ovid O.cular V.irus I.noculation D.etector. Don a pair these inconspicuous fashionable hi-tek wearable eyeglasses and you will immediately know whether the person you meet (closer than 6 feet distances) has been fully inoculated with one of the COVID vaccines. These “as-never-seen-on-TV” eyeglasses will alert you with a discreet butt-buzz (when properly inserted by one of the many Doctor Fauci-trained proctospecialists found in mini-mall nail and tattoo establishments across the nation.) Pre-orders of this remarkable prototype C.O.V.I.D. device will be available soon. A breathe worry-free future can be yours, masked-up or off. Indicate your interest in pre-ordering now with a 😲“wow.”

Rush Limbaugh’s Toxic Legacy

Of course one feels sad for his family and friends. But the expiration of Rush Limbaugh also feels as if an infected boil on America’s aspirational collective spirit of comity and unity has just been lanced.

In his bombastic radio rantings Rush Limbaugh perverted parody to derision and toxic mockery. His misogynistic and racist rhetoric struck some kind of evil laughing-clown chord in many of his followers.

Limbaugh shouted and amplified the darkest thoughts in the malevolent recesses of his fetid feverish mind. He gave his listeners permission to express, support and promote such toxic ideas that would never rise to cognitive expression in decent human souls.

He cruelly mocked the disabled, ridiculed feminists women as Nazis; regularly denigrated the poor and suffering. The term “punching down” now seems tailor made to describe his mean-spiritedness.

He wasn’t a conservative. He was a bomb throwing Joker with a megaphone insanely screaming “rotten meat, come and get it.”

No comfort is felt in his physical demise except for a sense of relief that this national abscess of necrotizing hate and poison that he festered has been aspirated. Rush Limbaugh’s listeners and admirers may miss him; America will not. Just as we quickly developed a vaccine for COVID, let’s pray we can “ warp speed” an “antibiotic” to cure the destructive infection of divisiveness and hate he so gleefully promoted.

President Donald J Trump’s Farewell Speech to the Nation

My dear fellow Americans:

It’s been over four long years since I descended that escalator with my lovely wife Malanney to announce my candidacy for the President of the U.S. Since then of course I have been your president, having technically, thru the Electoral College, won the election, even though I received over 3 million fewer votes than Hillary Clinton.

So here I stand before you with just one day remaining before former Vice President Joe Biden takes the reins from me. And I gladly hand him this honor and power. He deserves it having legitimately defeated me by over 7 million votes and a huge margin the the Electoral College. Believe me now, even though I have told you over 30,000 lies since 2016, Joe Biden won this election honestly and without a shred of fraud and doubt. I regret that I won’t attend his inauguration but to be honest with you (haha) my thin-skinned ego simply would not survive the sight of me standing humbled and defeated while Sleepy Joe Biden takes the oath of My Office. Maybe someday I’ll be able to call him and offer apologies and a belated congratulations. But I doubt it.

I announced my presidential candidacy with threats, taunts, horrible mis-characterizations of immigrants, especially Mexicans. I taunted my faux enemies with threats of imprisonment, stoking their insecurities and fear of a future that warned of an America dominated by multiculturalism and liberal permissiveness; an economy dependent on multinational and foreign interests. I pretended to want an America of Norman Rockwell’s white picket fences, church-going suburbs, old fashioned subservient women, anti-women’s choicers, the mythical religious and sexual mores of the 1950s, strong country folk and the hardy pioneering bootstrap spirit of white America. What I really wanted, but couldn’t say, was that I just wanted to piss off Barack Obama for making me the butt of his jokes at the 2011 Washington DC Correspondents’ Association Dinner. That’s why I ran for this damn job. I’m thin-skinned, alright! If you had been raised by a Fred Trump you would be too, believe me. Understand this: bluster, lies and deceptions are the only way I know how to act. Please read my lovely niece Mary Trump’s book. I never thought I would actually become President and once I realized I had won, the thought of being the leader of the free world and the most powerful person on the planet quite frankly scared the bejezeeus out of me. But I digress. (See, I’m not as illiterate as I’m depicted.. haha) What I actually decided after I’d been inconceivably elected, was to maximize the situation, which meant maximize the situation to my personal benefit.

I’m not a planner. I don’t really think linearly, nor do I think like a chess player. No 3-D moves for me. I’m all instinct, gut. If it feels right, do it. If it can profit me or increase my bottom line, just do it! Hey, that’s a really good motto, right? Just do it! I could sell shoes with that motto! I have the best words, you know! So when I got elected, damnit…(sorry evangelicals!) I knew I had to court and reward those poor yahoos who voted for me. Yup, as I’ve said before, I love the uneducated! And those folks see their self-interest, not in terms of economics, but reinforcement of their values..which basically meant to have someone to look down upon, to see others worse off, not white. Feed’em someone and something to blame, rile up resentment, point fingers at those “elites,” those who live on the coasts, who prefer wine over Bud; who put science and climate change over jobs. Who want to shut the country down because of a fake virus. Of course who fertilized those crazy ideas in their shallow little skulls? Me of course! Even I’m smart enough to know that if you add up all the old white men who are still fighting the Sixties cultural wars (those damn hippies!); religious folks who want to control women’s bodies; rural white folks who can’t understand why just being white hasn’t propelled them past Blacks and Brown folks…where’s the privilege in being white if a Black gets promoted over a white? If you say over and over again that immigrants are invading our shores like a pestilence; that liberals want to move minorities into your pristine white suburban enclaves; that everything you read, see and hear in the media is FAKE NEWS, (except Fox News!); that blaming China for everything else… repeat, stir, repeat, stir, over and over until you’ve cooked a cauldron full of toxic hate, resentment, cynicism, self-pity, and a thirst for revenge. And that’s my voting base. Not quite a majority, but still pretty damn potent. So potent that I could shoot someone on 5th Ave and they’d still love me. Haha, remember that line…beautiful!

Yes, it’s been a tremendous ride. Me in Air Force One and limos. You standing crowded and maskless and cold at my virus super-spreader rallies. Me winking and dog-whistling you to act on your worst angels, your darkest fears, your misguided notions of justice.

I know, I know…we hit a few speed bumps along the way. As I said about those dead veterans when they wanted me to visit some beach in Normandy France, impeach me once, you’re the fool; impeach me twice you’re suckers and losers. I sometimes think that my biggest problem, let’s face it, is that I’m just too damn honest and my best words just leap outta my mouth before being processed thru my very stable genius brain.

Well, quess I have to mention COVID. COVID, COVID, COVID. Sick and tired of hearing about it. Yeah, 400,000 of you died from it, but billions more would have died if I hadn’t… aww crap, I admit it..I really screwed this up. Of all the luck, great economy, stock market the best, my portfolios were really kicking ass, and then comes along this China virus and damn scientists like that Fauci guy says we all gotta wear masks. Do you know what a mask does to my makeup? Smears my tan, makes me look like a red-rumped orangutan. Enough said. Fix it Joe. It’s your problem now.

And one more thing before I go. That January 6 riot thing at the Capitol. You can’t blame me for trying. It’s not that I really want four more years of this job. But I do admit that I got used to some of the perks, and even the responsibilities, like pardoning a turkey at Thanksgiving and greeting football and baseball championship teams in the White House. And who would pass up an opportunity to host Kanye West and Kim K while he dropped the F Bomb with me sitting behind my Dissolute, I mean Resolute Desk! Good Times! Hey, Air Force One is a pretty sweet ride, but I’ll miss the chance to rename it Space Force One. Maybe I’ll talk with Joe about that.

So, go I must. As I said, it’s been a hellalva trip. Now get back to normal, buck up MAGA suckas, and as they say on the bus, keep on grabbin’.

Your Once & Only President Trump



How’ya doin’
Twenty Twenty
Vision division
Caused us plenty
Of rueing and stewing
Til blue
In the face
Behind the mask
Faith in our base
Or red in the neck
Or in that red hat
No MAGA mask don’t even ask
Just disconnect
And release our inner hounds
Too oh two ought
And fought our bounds
We were lost not found.

Two Kobees broke their earthly bounds
Shooting stars who hit the ground.
Influencing became a real job
Lonely INCELS shined their Knobs
While the mob
Boss elected
To run the land
The art of the Ukrainian Shakedown.

In the gaslighting
Progressive New Green Deal Fighting
A fever festered
Covid coverup
Blanketed and buried
Wall Streeter worries
And hurried to heaven
They dropped like flies
Helpless in beds they lie
In the twilight zones
Of their final nursing homes.

Like long sad sighs
That socially distant zoom in your
Screen-burned pandemic eyes
When hoping turned to coping
And surge tuned to dirge.

In the side effects
And intersect
Of unintended consequence
And unchecked Woke-ism
A Liberal schism
Incensed at the insensitive nation
Of Inquisitors at the
Great Cancellation.

In lockdown
Gutters clogged
With murder hornets
The social fabric
Torn it. Now mourn it.

Wildfires smogged
Brains conspire
Prophecies of doom and dire
Once upon a Q-anon pyre
Little fires embered higher
Puffed to life by the Donald Dissembler
Who lies for fun unashamed
All smoke and no flame
To heat his cup of toxic soup
Repeat and stir in a loop
Too stupid to know you’ve
Been stupidly duped.

Megan Thee Stallion
And Cardi B
Rapper rapscallions
Be horsing ‘round
Tongues in their cheeks
Curves and peaks
Celebratin’ vagination needs
Developed their own
Operation WAP Speed.

It’s way past time
To pass the time with our national Pastimes.
Are sports now relics
Of past times?
Re-runs of home runs
Touchdowns and empty stands
With mannequins instead of fans.
Athletes’ feats just televised
Instead of watching we sanitized.

In oceans of isolation
Plastic islands of the
Damned contamination
Lands of the banned
Waste not wanted
Insulated and out of sight
Fugettaboutit not worth the fight.

On the science
No Kool Aid to swallow
Attach a Covid sucking leech
Insert some lights where the sun don’t follow.
Drink a cup of Trump’s unkindness bleach
Or his go-to drink a Moscow Mule
Stirred not faken by Putin’s tool.

In the dark side of the room
Resistance to social distance
A portal to the tomb
Bearded boys with guns and ammo
Playing proud boi hero in Walmart camo.
Fighting for their American Way
To bowl in alleys
To get a haircut every day
And mask-less scream at Donald’s rallies.

The Department ordered
New modes of
Capital execution
Gas, electric not enough retribution
Firing squads and guillotines
Burned and boiled just the thing
Drawn and quartered seems fitting
HaHaHa literally side-splitting.

In our Covid co-habitations
Lockdown newborns
Children of the a-maizing
Pandemic parentage heritage
Covidia and Quarantina
Pandemia and lil’ Pandy
Vaccacina and brother Coronius
Flattaacurva and cousin Fauci.

Johns Lewis and John Prine
Good trouble makers
Givers of the heart not takers
In the ways they knew us
Spoke to justice and to truth
Like our beloved notorious Ruth.

Not the cure for the wheeze & a sneeze
A shot in the arm brings the virus To knee
But cannot cure
the Trump Soul Disease.

Our outrage
That knee in the neck
An act devoid
Of humanity’s sanity
A compassion disconnect
Murdered George Floyd
His sisters and brothers
More blood to spill
If the Covid don’t kill you
The PoPo will.

Our outrage
By maskless protesters’ destructive rampage
Damaged and shattered
Any vestige of the message
That Black Lives Mattered.

Some laughs
Amid the chaos and bathos
On the White House balcony
Trump’s Mussolini salute
Of his strongman defeat
Of the virus complete
Would take some special alchemy
To fit him in his fake Superman suit.
And not debatable
But certainly relatable
Henceforth it will always be said
That on Mike Pence’s head
That white dome
So dense
Would make a perfect home
And perfect sense
For a persistent black fly zone.

And truth to alternative factotums
Faithful to the Virus Liar Denier
Broadcasting airborne information Slush
Channeling the psychopathic
Enameled Orange Crush
Who hunkered
In his golf course bunkers
Too bored to care or say a prayer
A blessing shouted in angry lies
While 350,000 on his watch died.

Lost and Found
A year is a lifetime
A year is a timeline
A year is a lifeline
Beginning and end
Start and finish
Empty and replenish
Rise and descend.
Rest and stress
Fly and nest
2021 will bring relief
From 2020 may we be released.

Happy New Year 2021

Lawrence Rudmann

Do This One Weird Trick…to get rid of……. Trump!

Like a persistent toenail fungus on American democracy, Donald Trump refuses to go away. This Trump-induced mold inflicts and infects, presenting an intolerable stench of fear and pain inhibiting our nation’s ability to move forward to a future full of hope, heart and humanity. How do we rid ourselves of this debilitating embedded fungus? We’ve asked our “doctor,” the American electorate, for a cure. Seventy six million doses later the fungus, although greatly diminished, persists. It seems that about 70 million spores still remain active and seem resistant to treatment. What to do? America’s been through hell this year. A pandemic, the heartbreak of plaque psoriasis, closed bowling alleys, and worst of all, clogged gutters! Some have suggested offering Trump an Elba-like island to retreat to and lick his festering buboes. Others say send him on a free around-the-world golfing tour of the most exotic and exclusive golf courses. How about encouraging Trump to issue an Executive Order promoting incest so he could marry his long-lusted-after daughter Ivanka. But what Trump hates the most is paying taxes. Taxes are for losers. The IRS, with Congressional approval, could forgive all Trump’s back taxes and not require him to ever pay another dime in future taxes. But this One Weird Trick would do the trick: President Biden promises to pardon him of every federal crime. As long as he endorses, confirms and congratulates the new President-elect. And is forbidden to ever run for and hold an elected office higher than County Drain Commissioner. It’s a sweet deal. Offer it Joe! Take it Trump. And just go away.

Dear President Trump: How Do We Love Thee? Let Us Count The Ways.*

In our nation where about 150 million people are eligible to vote, about 70 million of us supported Donald Trump as our leader. Just what is it that we millions of Americans love about him? Do we like his ability to publicly lie multiple times a day over both the petty and significant?

Do we like the way he denigrates women, bragging how he sexually assaults them? And that at least 26 women have accused him of either rape or sexual assault? Hey, only 26. At least it’s not 260 women. They’re all lying, right?

We love his love of the “unborn.” We believe, as he does, that a man should control a woman’s body. Always protect a fetus before it’s born. (Of course even those who don’t love our Trump believe this.) But then forget it once its born.

Our Leader’s tirelesss fight against the enviro-wimps and their FAKE “climate change” keeps us praying to Him each night. Thank you God for sending Him to stand alongside Your Son Jesus. We love our polluted air, toxic water and rising sea levels. It’s like handling snakes and speaking in unknown tongues, Trumpspeak!

Or maybe we admire his character, exemplified by the check he signed for $130,000 to shutup a porn star who he had sex with while his wife was in hospital after giving birth to his son. Ha, what a character!

Perhaps we love him for his charitable generosity shown by his beneficent Trump Foundation which was ordered dissolved by the courts for misusing funds for political and personal financial gain.

Well, we do admire his commitment to quality education exemplified by his establishment of Trump University which bilked students out of thousands of dollars and was dissolved after settling $25 million in lawsuits alleging illegal business practices,false claims and racketeering. And for his statement that “I love the uneducated.” See, he just wants to educate us.

So many reasons to love this man.

He did keep us safe from those masked liberal snowflakes. By overcoming the fake Covid19 flu thru the sheer power of his masculinity and his artful management of the pandemic, Trump let it only kill 230,000 Americans instead of trillions and trillions. You love him, now?

The 500 Mile! That’s it. We just love those 5 new miles of new wall he built. Illegal immigration? Problem solved.

So many reasons, so little space. Well, let’s not forget about those tariffs he placed on China and other trading partners. Love that $80 increase in washing machines and other products.

But let’s get down to the basics. The intangible virtues that are hard to measure: patriotism, gallantry and the grit to lead our nation as Commander in Chief of our mighty and honorable military forces.

We Trump supporters honor our brave Vietnam vets by honoring the man who avoided that war because of bone spurs in his courageous vagus nerve.

And of course we are inspired by his brave words that veterans of wars who died were “suckers and losers.”

And that he disrespected American hero POW and Senator John McCain. “I like people who weren’t captured,” he so eloquently said.

Ah, freedom-loving words from the man who we 70 million Americans vote for.

If none of these reasons explain our love perhaps we need to talk about his love of us, almost half of America. His half.

His steadfast refusal to condemn white supremacy is certainly a profile in courage for us.

And his admiration and support of strongmen dictators such as Putin demonstrates his desire to emulate their power and authority and make America stronger. Gotta love that, right?

What about his cleverness and business acumen? That’s why we elected him. His businesses only declared bankruptcy six times. And we all know how difficult it is to make a profit from casinos. Too many customers winning!

Only paying $750 bucks in federal taxes? Who couldn’t love that!

And at last, we love Trump for his support and defense of Democracy and our cherished American Voting process. Every vote counts and the American people declare who wins the Presidency. Who couldn’t love a President who defends and supports that decision?

Our Leader’s tirelesss fight against the enviro-wimps and their FAKE “climate change” keeps us praying to Him each night. Thank you God for sending Him to stand alongside Your Son Jesus. We love our polluted air, toxic water and rising sea levels. It’s like handling snakes and speaking in unknown tongues, Trumpspeak!

We count the ways. Just don’t count those votes.

*Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Steel uself!

In case it happens; or what to do with the rest of your life.

Remember “Resist to Exist?” Four years ago after the “Could Never Happen” happened? Can’t blame you for memory lapse. So sure that Hillary would win (she did win the actual votes by more than 3 million) the election on that glorious night, so confident that a con man clown would never accede to the Oval Office, that I staged a Hillary Victory party in my trendy Chicago loft in River North, a converted Montgomery Ward warehouse overhanging Goose Island, a man-made “island” created by digging a canal along the Chicago River. The dredged silt, river bed, rocks and bones of unnamed corpses formed what’s now Goose Island, which today is undergoing major retail and housing re-development.

That evening, now forever seared in infamy in the karma-lized area of my brain, we prepared to celebrate America’s first woman President-elect. No, Hillary wasn’t perfect; but damn she was perfectly qualified to be a Commander in Chief, a President for all Americans, even those “deplorables” she so unfortunately (accurately?) and regrettably described. I’d even made a goofy YouTube ad for her with the help and urging of a California niece. As guests arrived and settled I began serving hors d’oeuvres of apricot ricotta honey basil bites, goat cheese stuffed peppadews and clam toasts with pancetta. Wine poured from amusing bottles of Chateau D’Yquem 2015 Premier Grand Cru Sauternes and for our beer lovers chilled pints of Brewdog’s End of History, a blond Belgian ale mixed with nettles and juniper berries from the Scottish highlands and then freeze-distilled multiple times. (This is how Libs nosh (snack) & sip (drink), right, tRumpers? Chicken wings, chips and onion dip? Not really.)

Polls closed. Early returns dribbling in. Trump leads in predictable southern strongholds. Hillary slightly behind in some swing states like Wisconsin. Hmmm, turnout slightly under expected in Dem strongholds like Detroit and Milwaukee. Refills all around; pass the foie gras. Not for worry. Returns now cascading across the networks. Uh, Trump picking up states and electoral votes. Hillary loses Ohio..still ok..wait..Florida called for Trump? And Pennsylvania, no, no, Michigan too? Not Wisconsin! Yup. The silence of shock is palpable. What the fcuk? The Grand Cru Sauterne is surprisingly warm, sour. Suddenly the stuffed peppadews and clam toasts taste dangerous. It’s only 10 pm damnit. Trump declared winner. Party over. (Damn you Jill Stein!)

Four years. Four long years.. of the pussy grabber separating and caging immigrant children from their parents, spewing daily mouthfuls of orange-faced lies, ridiculous exaggerations, theft, nepotism, xenophobia, cheating, misogyny, bullying, paying off a porn star, denial of collusion with Russia to win the election, kiss-assing the planet’s worst dictators, climate change denial, right wing judicial appointments, blasphemous treatment of the Bible for political and violent gain, racist encouragement of white supremacy terrorists, shredding the fabric of our democratic institutions and threatening the democracy that is our national foundation and heritage. And nearly a year of mismanagement and denial of a pandemic which so far has killed more than 220,000 Americans.

That’s a lot of damage in just under four years. And we could be looking at another four years.

Now, one day before the voting stops. No victory party this time. In fact we’ve left Chicago for Michigan, where our votes have a chance of being meaningful. Polls are positive today, one day before the election. Nervous as a Trump appointee raising his hand to swear (sweat) to tell the truth before a congressional investigative hearing. Will be pacing in front of the TV. No guests. Some good weed. Bud LIght. Cheap wine (Trump?) Bag of chips and 7-11 onion dip.

One day to go. A calm sense of serenity and perverse acceptance. Like a condemned innocent in the hours before the walk to the gallows.

If it happens again, if the tyrant is given a reprieve and returned to rule another four years, where do we go from this day on. Preparing myself for the worst. He sneaks by legitimately or foments a civil war to prop himself up as Despot for Life.

How long can the Resistance carry on? America is tired and weary. Many will just give in, accept the horror and try to adjust. Others will keep the fires of the Resistance burning. Regardless of which coping mechanism one chooses here are some ideas to maintain a semblance of mental health, stability, composure, achievement and happiness. Assuming we don’t have a civil war.

• Learn a second (or another) language. Will come handy if you immigrate to another country.

• Immigrate to another country. And learn another language.

• Write a novel. Hell, if Trump can be president you can at least write a sucky novel.

• Learn to play a musical instrument. I recommend the ukulele if you have no musical ability. After a while you will.

• Fall in love. For the first time or again. With your already-loved one or someone new (if your already-loved one doesn’t love you).

• If you’re a parent with young children teach them about the real history of America (buy a copy of The People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn), the Constitution, democracy. Before we forget it all.

• Travel across the U.S. by yourself or with your family. Maybe take off a year if you can afford it and see as much of America you can.

• And lastly: do all or some of the above no matter who wins.

Rats! Sidewalk Collapse Foreshadows Election Outcome?

Rats occupy a special place in the compendium of human fears and fascination, these horriblis rodentica come to real life in urban streets and virtually in literature and popular culture. Rat-riding fleas spread the Bubonic Plague Black Death in the 1300s. A cage of hungry rats strapped to his face breaks poor Winston in George Orwell’s 1984. Rats have always played a supporting role in movies, occasionally gnawing their way to stardom in horror flicks such as “Willard” and “Ben” as well as lovable in the animated Ratatouille. Social mediaites scurried voraciously to watch The Pizza Rat labor determinedly drag his found meal down the subway steps. A few days ago a New York City sidewalk collapsed casting an unfortunate pedestrian 12 feet down into a pit swarming with rats. Afraid to scream for help he said he didn’t want rats to crawl into his mouth.

With the Election of America’s next President only a few days away, will the sidewalk of American democracy collapse, hurling us to doom in a pit filled with the Rat King Trump and his hoard of rat relatives and Republican rodents? New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman wrote recently that if Trump wins this may be the last weekend in America, the democratic United States of America. Hyperbole you say? In his last days campaigning the Rat King is frothing that if he doesn’t win there will be chaos in the streets. That he must be declared the winner on election night or else! America’s Democratic infrastructure, like the sidewalks of America, have been hollowed out, neglected and teeming underneath with corrupt, ravenous, greedy vermin. Only an army of American voters determined to defeat the rats under feet will save us. Gods won’t. They only save those who want to be saved. Save ourselves. Or let the rats crawl into our mouths and devour us from inside out. Vote before it’s too late.

A Memory

Congressman John Lewis, civil rights icon and truly one of god’s greatest human creations is dead in this world he struggled mightily to make better. I knew him only peripherally when I was communications director for the Peace Corps years ago. On a cold morning in Chicago I met him at his hotel to accompany him, as I’d done various other times, to a radio interview, TV talk show (memory lapse?) either at WBBM or WGN to discuss anti-poverty issues and initiatives. Driving my tiny Renault LeCar north on pot-holed Halsted street, a front wheel cratered and blew out. As I pulled over to the trash-littered berm near Halsted & Grand, John was the first to jump out to survey the damage. I’d never changed a tire on this pathetic little car but before I could hide my dismay John had the jack out of the trunk and was handily loosening the lugs. I grabbed the spare and quicker than a NASCAR pit stop tire change we were on our way. I’d scheduled and accompanied many clients on various media tours but I remember John Lewis as the most real and authentic; no pretense, no exhibit of self-importance, no ego-tripping. He exuded decency, compassion and the seriousness of a man older than his age. Though brief and trivial my encounters with John Lewis were, they always left me with a sense that I was in the presence of a great man. I didn’t know he would go on to become a gifted Congressional Representative whose most important accomplishment was representing the conscience of America. When he spoke, in conversation or in public, his words were often eloquently simple, delivered with the hard conviction of a man who lived his experience,truth and convictions. Yeah, we changed a flat tire together one morning in Chicago. And without me he went on and did his part to make the world a better place.

Deranged Donald

According to Mary Trump, niece of the guy sitting in the White House, in 1981 her uncle Donald chose to go to the movies rather than accompany his dying brother Fred Jr. to the hospital. Which of these then-current movies did he see?

Absence of Malice

Escape from New York

Hardly Working

The Looney Looney Looney Bugs Bunny Movie

Mommie Dearest


Take This Job and Shove It

American Gigolo

The Untouchables

The Last Emperor

Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Do the Right Thing

Which movie did Trump go to see while his brother was dying? The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.

Summer Time in Trumparumpaville.

Summer is finally here and we’re seeing, as Our Glorious Leader Trump predicted, the Trumporonavirus has faded away. Well, not exactly. The US keeps breaking its daily high infections with massive virus rates mounting in Florida, Texas, Arizona, Nevada, California. Many states are on “pause” for re-opening. As Americans flock to beaches maybe they should stop at a church on the way and pray since America’s most non-Christian, irreligious president, who rarely if ever attends church services, has called for churches to re-open and declared “houses of worship” essential.

But instead, we’re at the beach. We’re not exactly the most religious country in the world. Trump himself, by his actions and words, rejects most of the basic tenets of Christianity including the basic golden rules. (His version says do unto others before they do unto you). He regularly violates most of the the Ten Commandments, for example: idolizing wealth and himself; taking the lord’s name in vain at his public rallies; he’s not exactly a Sabbath keeper; perversely he does “honor” his father and mother, if “honoring” means carrying on the traditions of his racist slumlord father. (Photos of mom and dad adorn his Oval Office desk); no convictions for murder…yet; adultery? Ha Ha..; stealing? How many bankruptcies? Not paying his contractors on building projects…his thefts are legendary; bearing false witness? Hmmm, does accusing former congressman news personality Joe Scarborough of murder count? Coveting?…thy neighbor’s wife? What about thine own daughter? (daddy thinks you’re hot, Ivanka!) Nine out of ten ain’t bad. What are Commandments for anyway if you can’t break’em.

He also turns loose his storm troopers on protesters so he can cross the street to hold a Bible (upside down) for a photo opp. Kind of like:

A porn actor named Chastity?

Oedipus forgetting Mother’s Day?

Lucifer chillin’?

Cain moving to Philadelphia?

Sean Hannity going down on Hillary?

Mitch McConnell endorsing facelifts?

Mike Pence having lunch with a woman who’s not his wife?

Trump got elected by losing to Hillary by more than 3 million votes. So who knows? Happy Summer 2020.

A Voice from the MidCoast

Tom Crane, KKFI Community Radio, Kansas City, MO

The second week continues after the vicious murder of George Floyd for being Black. Many citizens have finally had enough and risen in protest across the nation. They have now shown a shocked nation a mirror and forced us to look at our own racially-charged history that has had its knee on the neck of the country for centuries.

If it were not for the event which triggered these uprisings, I would be immensely proud of citizens finally standing up for people’s rights against the militarization and commodifying of our surveillance culture, and against a proto-dictator. I am glad that people have awoken, but I am very sad that it took this heinous event in our history to provoke this.

Years ago when I was a lot younger, I went on a march in Washington to protest against a made-up war. Over 100,000 citizens peacefully protested against the overseas US policy.

I remember on that march on Washington against the phony war, police seemed different. They were on the edge of the crowd wearing normal uniforms, not combat gear. They seemed to actually protect demonstrators and their right of assembly. I remember one officer smiling and opening his coat to expose an anti-war sticker which caused the crowd near him to gleefully chant “more pay for cops”.

Not anymore. Today that’s impossible against a phalanx of pseudo-military occupiers. They are locked arm-in-arm and outfitted in armor and shields ready for battle against the ruler’s declared enemies. They have a variety of weapons – Instruments ready for rapid use against those who question authority. The reaction to protests seems more like an episode of “Rome” than what should be happening in the United States.

It isn’t possible to identify who some of these wannabe enforcers are as you would in an actual war where soldiers are required to show visible personal identifiers. Some of those facing protestors have no identification while others have taped over badge numbers and insignia allowing them to do what they want without repercussion.

It’s reported that many came with their ready-for-combat equipment from as far away as Texas to our capitol. Interesting. National guard soldiers are supposed to serve in their own home state, not in Washington. Yet, here they are, engaged and ready to protect the ego of the current ruler of the country.

This is an occupying army of a domestic colony. DC has a population of over 700,000 and has no representatives in Congress.

On one night last week, the White House resembled a Halloween house that had no candy for costumed trick-or-treaters. All the lights in all the windows were turned out seemingly to say, “Nobody Home”. This was reminiscent of the War of 1812 where the president had to flee. But this time the current occupant was busy safely “inspecting” a bunker below the street.

Next day, outside-agitator troops from the hinterland were deployed to end the ruler’s inconvenience and show his power. With horses, chemical weapons, rubber bullets, and shields, Lafayette Park across from the White House was cleansed of those who had peacefully and defiantly asserted rights as American citizens – so the ruler could have a “photo-op” in front of a nearby church.

I remember previous years standing peacefully in that very park across from the people’s house to express my opinion without the fear of being trampled or gassed.

After the park and church debacle, local religious leaders resented having their church used as a background for propaganda by the ruler, and said so. He had obliviously and disrespectfully, held the holy book important to them upside down as a prop used for photos that show how great he thinks he is.

Then he retreated through a safe, empty cleared-corridor flanked by columns of combat-gear enforcers. He fled back to our American presidents’ house to plan some new ego-enhancement activity. As usual, he again belligerently denounced those who dared question him. Now though, many citizens know that his cowardly and offensive posturing won’t help him against those who see him as a king wearing no clothes.

The Black Lives Matter protests did achieve one of the ruler’s objectives – his long-standing goal of completing a wall. But this time the wall is a lot smaller and is around the house where he now temporarily occupies.


We often complain and whine about the U.S. Postal Service as an anachronistic institution for its inefficiencies and service. But let’s face it, in these times of desperate distancing and disease, the sight of your local Postal carrier delivering mail and packages is a welcome one. Recent threats to the future funding for the USPS by “president” Trump jeopardizes this much-needed delivery service. Trump has been blocking emergency funding saying that if it just raised rates for shipping items from Amazon and other companies it would not need extra funding. What he really wants is to cripple the USPS so that it won’t be able to process and deliver election mail-in ballots from states like California which recently approved state-wide mail-in voting for everyone. Well, here’s an idea for the USPS that would convince Trump to provide a massive infusion of bucks. Hey, USPS, start printing TRUMP STAMPS. His ego is so pervertedly out of whack that he couldn’t resist having his mug (with a subtle MAGA message on it) on postage stamps. Especially if the Postal Service eliminated all other stamps. Just one beautiful huge powerful tremendous stamp that everyone would have to buy to mail anything. And make it a one cent stamp. Lick it to stick it. No self-adhesion.The glue would have the subtle scent, aroma and taste of a mail-order Trump Steak pan-fried in rich thick Trump cologne arousing the licker to buy Trump steaks and perfume and other Trump swag. That’s 55 images of the GOAP (greatest of all presidents) on every envelope mailed. And a big stimulus check for the Post Office. Funding problem solved, USPS.

Conspiracy to Know

Did You know???

The truth will set us free.That’s a direct famous quote from our President and Defender of our One Nation Under God. Our President wants to free us from the fake flu that dumbycrats are trying to spread across our Blessed Fatherland. There are lots of theories (that means it’s true) and explanations of what’s really going on. Many of us know what’s really going on, especially our President, who often says we must find out what’s really going on. Well here’s most likely, (which really means IT’S WHAT’S GOING ON! ) really going on! Many people are saying that what’s really going on “could” (which means it’s the truth) be one of the following:

Of course everyone already knows about the “Mole Children.” Those Covid tents in Central Park in New York City are really the Government covering up secret tunnels where deamoncrats are imprisoning crippled children for sex trade. Those tents are NOT full of virus infected victims but are there to hide from the public the terrible things going on down in these tunnels to Hell.

And there are many other things happening that are tricking the Americans people into being critical of our President because of this fake or not flu.

Did you know??

The Covid 19 virus is (if it is real although many are saying it is not) a delayed reaction and revenge for to the banishment of the Roman poet Ovid from Rome by Emperor Augustus in 8 AD to Constanta, Romania. C, from Constanta, + Ovid, broke out in two thousand 19. There you have it! COVID-19. Ovid’s Revenge!

Did You Know??

The Covid-19 did not ooze out of a wet wild animal market in China. It actually oozed out ON SCHEDULE from a secret Kenyan hut-laboratory where Obama and his relatives carried out a devious plan devised in the waning Obama days before Trump’s inauguration (which drew over a billion people). The virus was concocted using bush rat saliva, sloth genital smegma and ancient petrified monkey anuses. Obama and his Kenyan Minions released the virus to insure that Trump not be re-elected.

Did You Know??

FLATULENCE CAN SPREAD THE VIRUS!! In fact, many people are saying that flatulent activity has been increasing at an alarming rate due to the VeganLiberal’s (VigLibs) promotion of high-fiber grain-based diets. N-95 masks and social distancing from VigLibs is highly recommended.

Did You Know??

Planned Parenthood Predators, desperate to perform abortions, concocted the whole fake virus thing in order to get the government to shut down the country causing people to hunker down together in households, get bored watching Netflix and have illicit sex causing unwanted pregnancies and the need to have abortions. Very devious indeed.

Did You Know??

Low-flush toilets and LED light bulbs are suspected of causing the global Covid-19 pandemic. Promoted by Eco-Libs, these misguided Green Terrorists, in their naive attempt to “save the planet” inadvertently set loose upon our Clean-Coal powered earth stupid government regulations to save our already-clean waterways by limiting our American god-given right to healthy abundant full-tank flushes. This low-flush bathroom environment helped breed the Covid-19 virus. And by selling LED bulbs under the fake idea of saving electricity (and killing our beautiful coal industry and the tremendous powerful beauty of incandescent lighting), many people are saying that these diode-infested LED bulbs are emitting radioactive sonic waves disrupting normal healthy microbes transmuting them into a lethal virus. This intended consequence of destroying our American Way of Life by Eco-Libs has come home to roost.

And don’t get me started on ….FLORIDE !

Ask Your Doctor If Trump Is Right For You.

My Fellow Americans: Just who is this so-called little Dr. Fauci anyway? Doesn’t “Fauci” mean “fakey”in American language. Dr.Downer? Dr.Gloomndoom? Dr.Heyweallgonnadie? Why is he even on TV’s most highly rated, better-than-the-Batchlor, bigger than the Super Bowl national daily reality show, “The Covid Conquerer!” starring none other than the nation’s preeminent, most trusted Health Expert, me!, Doctor DJ. Trump! This third rate so-called “Doctor” Fakey Fauci keeps trying to upstage me on my very own powerful ratings-busting television show. Some people, especially the fake media, say he is becoming a star, a trusted expert. Well let me tell you, this short little Fauci guy may think he’s great, but let me tell you, many people are saying that this FauciFakey guy, I call him a guy, a lot of powerful people are saying that my tremendous prescription cure is just what America needs. Hydroxychloraquine. Hydroxy and chloroquine. Two very powerful drugs. Put them together and you get hy-drox-y Chlo-a-quine. Quine. I call it, and very soon, the Whole World will be calling it Trumpaquine. TRUMPAQUINE.. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it! Doctor Fakey says you got to test it first. You think I would buy stock in an untested drug? Noooo..lots of money invested. Powerful. Whadda got to lose? Buy it now and I’ll throw in a box of frozen Trump Steaks. People say they are the best. And that’s not all. Ask you doctor for Hydroxy-Chloraquine..and I’ll include a free degree from Trump University. Dr. Fakey warns of side-effects.. well the only side effect from this beautiful Hy-droxy stuff that I know of is you might get bone spurs. Which could come in handy if we ever have to go to war against China or Canada. Buy it now. Or there will be death. Now, I’ll turn it over to Dr. Fauci.


Exculpation: “the act of freeing from guilt or blame.” Biggest word Trump has ever uttered. Yup he knows that word.

Bumper sticker on Prez Limo: “My karma ran over my dogma.” Trump refusing to wear mask.

Doctor Trump must own serious pharmaceutical stock in companies that make chloroquine and hydroxychloroquine.

Let Them Eat (deductible) Lunch

At last our Great Leader Trumpus has pulled the rabbit out of the hat and saves us from the plague. Today, in his infinite wisdom, our Dear Magnificent Leader solves the curse on our land. By reinstating the tax-deductible 3-martini lunch for business executives our poor nation will be lifted up by the Beneficent Very Large Hands of Our Lord Trump. In his daily Sermon on the Mount from his sacred White House our beloved Omnipotentor soothed our restless souls in this terrible time of Obama-induced pandemic. Dear Father Trump tweeted “Congress must pass the old, and very strongly proven, deductibility by businesses on restaurants and entertainment. This will bring restaurants, and everything related, back – and stronger than ever. Move quickly, they will all be saved!” Oh yes All Powerful Master, and so will your Holy Temples of Golf and Resorts. Your Boundless Wisdom is only exceeded by your Devine Greed.

Last Resort

This could be our last chance. The foul beast is loosed upon the land. Social distancing, self quarantining, closing restaurants, sports, all gatherings of any size or purpose may not be enough. People still venture out to go to pharmacies and grocery stores. This may have to stop. What? How will I get my meds and food and household essentials, i.e. TP? Enact martial law. Authorize the military, national guard and community police to deliver and distribute essential meds directly to households and individuals. Temporarily nationalize Amazon and UPS and fully fund and protect the US Postal Service all of which will deliver meds and food. No more spreading the virus in grocery stores and pharmacies. Food will be simplified by distribution of special MREs (military-style Meals Ready to Eat) that contain daily meals and a small supply of TP. A 2-month supply (per individual) of MREs will be stockpiled in central areas of neighborhoods and fully-protected/National Guard, Amazon,UPS,Postal and community volunteers will distribute supplies of MREs to households. The MREs won’t kill us but the virus surely will. We’ll eat this crap for two months, take vitamin supplements and maybe survive. Added benefit: alleviate America’s obesity problem. We’ll emerge leaner, stronger and more thankful than ever before. Let’s do it.

Virus-Inspired New Baby Names

With the world in the throes of a pandemic many are also quarantined and isolating themselves. Will there be a Coronavirus baby boom in nine months? If so, will we see an outbreak of Covid-19 related baby names? Such as:

Calaminity Jane





















Vacationing During a Pandemic

Self-quarantining? Social-isolating yourself? Fighting zombies over the last roll of toilet paper? Searching for hand sanitizer? Avoiding stock market updates? Smacking your forehead over the ineptness of the Trump guy who occupies the Office of President? Yeah, the latter for sure. But I’m on vacation. In sunny warm little Sanibel Island, Florida. A bubble of basic normality where quarantining means strolls on the beach, frosty margaritas and cold Coronas, biking thru tropical pathways, kayaking thru the mangroves, moonlight pool swims. And yes, dining in sparsely occupied beach restaurants and bistros. I’ve been here for over two weeks. The first two were before the world was officially declared at war with the Coronavirus. This the third week and I can hear faint faraway rumblings of that war inexorably creeping closer. Sure, the raw oysters and conch fritters, coconut shrimp and cold beer contribute mightily to the trite, corny tourista Jimmy Buffet-pretend lifestyle. Like being in Disney World, or Dolly Partonland, or that place in Missouri or Arkansas with the Japanese fiddle-player and long-forgotten 1950s crooners. But without all the Disney shit, Dolly crap and Japanese fiddlers. It feels like the little island it is. Life goes on here; everyone seems to have been infected not with Covid-19 but instead with Novid-00 island fever. Since we’re already booked here until the end of the month I’m fighting the impulse to just pack up, hit the road (we drove) and endure a three-day drive home to Southwest Michigan. But it’s snowing there. And 80 here. Amid warnings to avoid contact with grandchildren, our two near our Michigan home, what’s to gain from an early departure. So we take it day by day, read online apocalyptic reports and try not to panic. Time for a bike ride, dear. And then a dip in the pool, martini in hand. Welcome to the pandemic vacation.

President Pangloss

In Voltaire’s Candide, incurable optimist Dr. Pangloss was at least cheerful. And unlike our egomaniacal Trump-as-president, he didn’t credit all his optimism to himself. To Pangloss the world was wonderful because it is a wonder. To Trump all wonderfulness comes only from himself. Isn’t it wonderful that he is managing the Pandemic so masterfully, unlike anyone else, especially that bumbling President Obama! So reassuring was his tremendous best-ever, perfect press conference where he eased the nation’s fears of extinction by parading to the microphone a cache of CEOs. ( a bunch of crows is a “ murder,” birds a “flock,” fish a “ school”…so what do you call a group of CEOs.? a “cache?) How beneficent of Walmart to open it’s parking lots to drive-by virus testers. And Google, for making a new website that they are not really making so quickly and actually not so quickly and tremendously better than that old Obamacare website. And Roche Pharmaceuticals, whose stock prices rose in real-time on the TV screen’s chyron during the announcement that the FDA has approved its new virus tests. And all those nasty, pesky Obama regulations that President Pangloss presidentially flicked away! Thanks, Obama, for causing this damned Pandemic. And special thanks Prez Pangloss for reassuring the nation that you “…take no responsibility” for any Coronavirus failures. Americans are so grateful, Prez Pangloss, that in your Most Wonderful Perfect Press Conference you didn’t assure Americans that you would exert your prez powers to stop people from hoarding toilet paper, sanitizers, household goods and food. And insure the supply chain from producers of these goods flows uninterrupted to stores everywhere. That website that Google is not making not so quickly is such a relief! Thank Trump for a website and a flowchart in the face of national crisis and chaos. You’re doing a great job, Brownie.. I mean Trumpfy! Americans celebrate your optimistic wonderfulness.

The Trumporona Virus

The Trumporona virus has finally been diagnosed and identified as the near pandemic sickness incubating and now plaguing the world since January 2017. The presenting features of The Trump contagion appear to be loss of neurological impulse control, intestinal pseudofortitudinous obstruction of the uvulaial brain-to-mouth expressway; degradation of the neuronic cells with accompanying growth of moronic tumors in the right cerebral cortex which prevents the ability to create and translate actions and thoughts into the realm of rational factuality. Health officials estimate that up to 40 percent of the American voting electorate are now highly infected with Trumporona exhibiting symptoms as varied as frothing lips when presented with settled and tested evidence-based scientific facts, to “twitchy overlookitis” a visual anomaly that causes both eyes to permanently cast elevated sight lines overlooking common human-Christian transgressions such as misogyny, sexual intercourse with porn stars while wife is nursing newborn; isolating young foreign bodies in cages, and treasonous conspiring with foreign enemies.

Although the Trumporona contagion has primarily spread throughout the U. S. infected trumpyspores have migrated to other nations showing up as outbreaks of feverish white corpuscular militancy, foaming spittlemouth xenophobia and resistance to a particularly virulent strain of nodule penile tuber elongated buboe syndrome, commonly know as “dick-tater” root and support syndrome.

According to the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) a vaccine derived from large doses of Dignity and Decency to combat the Trumporona plague is being developed and will soon be tested in various U. S. states with hope of going nationwide on November 3 this year.

Bernie Bros Brew & Stew

VFX Super Tuesday was a super pooper day for Bernie Bros. Instead of voting in record numbers it appears they once again predictably chose to drink their latest favo IPA brews at their newest craft micro brewery. Now they stew in their brew, stroking their beards and whining about how life is unfair. And that if Bernie doesn’t get the nomination then they won’t vote for anyone. Do they subconsciously want Bernie to lose. And then they’ll have an excuse to make the effort to not to vote? I know, I’m being too hard on our young millennial class. And unfairly casting stereotypes over an entire generation. I wished they had proved me wrong on Tuesday. Wish they had fulfilled Bernie’s hope to storm the polling places demonstrating unity, strength and resolve. Those wild crazy Bros at Bernie rallies, with their thousands of placards twitching in frenzied excitement on Monday went home and slept in on Tuesday. Wake up Bros, at least by November and vote for Biden or whoever gets the nomination. Or smell the stench of Trumpism for four more years.

Platform for Defeat

A severely unpopular Xenophobic Xtremist Criminal Racist Indecent Misogynistic Imbecilic Narcissistic Anal Liar (xxC.R.I.M.I.N.A.L) currently occupies the Office of President of the U.S. (Name-calling? Yes. Unfortunately, in this instance, it’s called for.)

Donald Trump, who currently sits in the office of U. S. President, is propped up by a minority electorate cult and a bootlicking, groveling intimidated Republican Senate. His prospects for re-election should seem dim. But instead, he seems a sure election winner and shoe-in to threaten, for another four years, and possibly destroy American democratic values for ever.

How could this happen you ask? Well, at least I ask. The depressing answer lies under the left progressive snowflake wings of should-know-better snow angels of the Democratic Party. Leading the long thin line of candidates who hope to defeat the xxC.R.I.M.I.N.A.L Trump are two East Coast liberal elites: 78 year old recent heart-attack survivor democratic socialist Sen. Bernie Sanders, and former Harvard professor Senator Elizabeth Warren. Also polling high in primary states is thirty seven year-old (gay)mayor of South Bend Indiana, pop. 9,000, Pete Buttigieg. And of course a 77 year-old Botoxed Joe “Loose Lips’n Teeth” Biden, former US Senator and Vice under the Pretty-Damn-Good-now-looks-Great President Barrack H. Obama. And some other guys who want to assume to great heights such as a Kobuchar and another Mayor, late Septuagenarian Billionaire Mike Bloomberg and his billionaire doppelgänger Tom Steyer.

The Wild Bunch, right?

And what do two of the leading candidates, Sanders and Warren propose?

Free health care for illegal immigrants

Mandatory Medicare for All (cancel current health plans for 160 million people)

Reparations for slavery

Open Borders

Grab their guns

Free college

Cancel student debt

Punish wealthy

This are the policies of the progressive wing of the Democratic Party. As much as I personally support some form of these positions, even one or two, mandatory Medicare for all or reparations for slavery represent a platform for defeat in November. There must be a way to meet in the middle. I know, in Texas the middle of the road means dead armadillos. In doubles tennis the net is highest on left or right alley hi-risk shots. In a Trump/Pence vs Bernie/AOC doubles match the nation will be left in the worst position to be on the court: “no-man’s land”. But hitting down the middle can score winners. The presidency. The House. The Senate. Think about it Bernie Bros.

The Putinurian Candidate

Reports that U. S. intelligence agencies warn that Russia is attempting to promote the candidacy of Bernie Sanders confirm what I recently wrote that Bernie was Putin’s guy. It’s a no-brainer that both Putin and his minion Trump are drooling over the prospect of running against Old Socialist Sanders. If Bernie doesn’t keel over with a heart attack during a debate with Trump a small miracle will have happened. Trump is already blabbing about Bernie’s honeymoon in Moscow years ago. Just wait til he reads aloud some of the youthful Bernie musings on the dynamics of male/ female sexuality. “A woman enjoys intercourse with her man — as she fantasizes being raped by 3 men simultaneously.” (See insert). Oh, yes, don’t doubt that Trump will gleefully but “shocked, horrified and troubled” read aloud from The Book of Bernie.”

And after Bernie’s victory in the Nevada caucuses Trump tweeted, “…congratulations, Bernie. Don’t let them take it away from you.” One can almost hear Trump’s bloated greasy lips smacking at his future November 3rd. dinner of an over-cooked dessicated Deep Fried Bernie Burger with all the Senate and House trimmings. Four More Years. Trump Supreme Court. Environmental disasters, corruption on a scale exceeding the past three years. Democracy as we once knew it? Forget it. Thanks Bernie.

Re-wind WrapUp

After the recent New Hampshire Dem Debate Donald J Trump must be smacking his bloated cheeseburger lips at the prospects of ripping any of these guys to shreds.

Bernie, Putin’s candidate, rewound & shouted out his greatest hits. Arms flapping like an ostrich trying to launch, Socialist Bernie, eyes bulging, shoulders bent hovered over his dais like a cranky old vulture dewlap dipping into old-school socialist roadkill.

Pete the Mayor. Sounds just as awkward as Pete the President. Smartest guy in the room. But also the gayest. And that, folks is the crux of the issue. Mayor Pete, may not have the experience but certainly has the chops, thoughtful intelligence and temperate judgement. Who cares if you’re gay? Ah, unfortunately enough to elect Trump in a landslide.

Pocahontas, (damn you Trump!) face pinched in angry outrage, fisted the air to punctuate her points, nearly punching herself in her haughty East Coast stuck-up nose. Get rid of the granny glasses, Medicare-For-All, free college tuition and re-invent yourself and your campaign before it’s (already) too late.

Joe, yes that Sleepy Joe…(Trump’s nicknames are often “perfect.” )…his skeletal skull hosted two vacant tiny botoxed stretched eyes while his mouth mumbled marbles around loose teeth struggling to remain glued. Joe’s brain, in 5-sec delay mode, searched in vain to coherently relay his thoughts. Say it ain’t so, Joe.

Fargo Amy K., ya, sure, u betcha ..exaggerating a smile that behind the lips seems to seethe with either breaths of disdain or sheer insecurity. (Such a great boss to work for, they say.) The pundits declared her the debate winner a result of her few well-lobbed smile-wrapped rehearsed lines. Amy “SmileyFace” says she’s the moderate we need.

Tech Rich Guy Andy Yang, (say that real fast three times) open shirted and not “tied” down to traditional democrat liberal solutions. The robots are coming for your jobs he Ludditely says. His solution to everything is to just give everyone a free $1,000 bucks a month. This will solve all social ills, reduce inequality and racism, reduce infant mortality, stop Russian manipulation of our elections, cure plaque psoriasis, toenails fungus and bring our nation together as a mutual-respecting harmonious nation. Hey, let’s try it. But with someone else as President.

“Need to Impeach” Tom Steyer, the hedge fund Rich Guy seemed to be the only candidate focused on the need for unity and the need to defeat Twrumpf. He makes a good coach, reminding everyone what is most important. Coach of the Year. Not President.

Skipping the debate, Lil’ Mike Bloomberg is spending one $billion of his accumulated $60 Billion to win the Dem nomination. The good: he’s focusing not on attacking other Dem candidates but instead solely on attacking Twrumpf himself. Plus he says even if he fails in his quest for the nomination he’ll continue to spend big bucks on defeating The Twrumpfer. Bad news: those Dem candidates are condemning Mike declaring that the Presidency cannot be bought. Well, this time if buying it rids us of Twrumpf then I say buy the damn thing.

Time for a White Knight (not racial!) to ride in and pull the sword from the set-in-stone crop of current weak candidates. Who? Sherrod Brown, the rough and gruff Senator from Ohio. He’s a no-nonsense moderate, anti-free trader, proponent of strong unions. This guy is the complete package..if the DNC could call on Central Casting for a perfect candidate across the stage walks Sherrod Brown. As you leave, Mr. Trump, let the door hit you in the ass.

What’s a Hogan Gidley?

Well, a Hogan Gidley appears to be Twrumpy’s deputy press secretary. Today he attempted to lie away his boss calling his impending impeachment a “lynching” by liesplaining all the great things Twrump has done for the African American community. But, with a name like Hogan Gidley and its 1,700 anagrams, what do you expect? Here are a few good ones:

Gay Ding Hole

Ah Doge Lying

Ah Edgy Lingo

Egad Lying Oh

Head Lying Go

God He A Lying.. and my favo:

I hangdog lye

“Sundowning Demagogue”

Most journalists have run out of or are often left conjuring too oft-used descriptions of Trump. There are seemingly few original ways left to describe this impotent creature from the white nationalist lagoon. (Hey, I think I just painted a new word-picture of this guy..or have I read this phrase before and scraped it oozing from the dark folds of my cerebral cortex?) Anyhoo, congratulations to New York Times columnist Michelle Goldberg. In her Sunday, August 16, 2019 column about Trump sending the world into total chaos and possibly annihilation, she referred to his “causal lies (not too original) and verbal incontinence.” Nice turn of phrase and depiction of his incessant pathological mendacity. (Trying too hard, am I ?) Goldberg follows this up with “sundowning demagogue whose oceanic ignorance is matched only by his gargantuan ego.” Her (not so) subtle reference to Trump’s old age (incontinence) and the possibility of early Dementia onset (sundowners), would normally be ascribed as “ageist.” But I’m willing to not only give her a pass but say that in this case, kudos for calling it what it is. Even hardened Trumpists know in their heart of hearts that there is something seriously wrong with this guy. Does he need medical attention and maybe treatment for Dementia? We’ve been focused on describing Trump in term of his amorality, immortality, misogyny, xenophobia, all the pathologies of a sociopath: compulsive lying, lack of empathy, antisocial behaviors, e.g. insulting people and projecting his own weaknesses and imperfections on others. Should we now focus our fear on the real possibility that this old man is deranged and demented? I say yes. And thanks, Michelle Goldberg.

Don’t Control Guns – Ban Guns

Pass the “No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act”.

After every major mass gun slaughter I suggest The U. S. enact this law.

Enough is enough! 

Here’s what we need: 

Don’t control guns, ban them.

Presidential/Executive “Re-interpretation” of the Second Amendment concomitant with enactment by Congress or Presidential Fiat of the “No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act” also to be known as the “No Right to Own Guns Act.” (more likely in next Administration)

The new law bans the manufacture, import and sale of firearms and ammunition for non-military actions in the U. S. and its territories.

Phase One: A Federal ban on the civilian purchase of any firearm. This means hand guns, assault rifles, shotguns, hunting rifles, target/sport firearms. Also BB guns and similar varmint-hunting guns such as pellet guns. Also banned are potato “spud” guns, rubber band guns and all NERF-type projectile-emitting gun facsimiles. The law also bans all toy guns including any type of liquid-squirting “water” guns. (BB/pellet and NERF-type guns and toy guns are “gateway weapons” that lead to future desire/addiction to possess and use bullet-based firearms). Violation of the “No Gun Left Behind Act” is a zero tolerance, “one strike you are out” violation resulting in a minimum income-based fine of $20,000 and up. Inability or refusal  to pay the fine shall result in a minimum one year sentence to a Firearm Practice Farm for Federal Agents as a live target decoy. (Sentence commuted after one year if prisoner survives)

Phase Two: The President shall order all citizens to turn in to Federal Authorities any and all firearms & ammunition they own or possess. Firearm owners complying will be compensated for the price that they paid for the firearm(s) plus a cash bonus and lifetime membership in the National No Rifle Association. Refusal to comply will result in fines and/or Decoy Duty on a Federal Firearms Farm.

Phase Three: The National Guard, branches of the U.S. military forces, Federal policing agents including the FBI, will conduct house-to-house inspections nationally for the purpose of confiscation of firearms. Non-compliance will result in Federal Firearm Farm Decoy Duty. 

Phase Four: Local police will be required to “Stop & Frisk” suspected gun carriers at any time or place. Citizens will also be rewarded with cash bonuses for alerting police or Federal authorities to anyone who they suspect possessing a firearm. Any U. S. resident who has previously obtained or applied for a firearms permit will be entered into the National Red Flag GunUsingNuttyNabobsUsuallyTwitching (GUN NUT) database as potential mass shooters.

Hunters and firearm sport enthusiasts will be able to rent approved firearms from the federal government for limited use. Firearm renters, like auto renters, shall have proper insurance.  

Traditional firearm-based hunters who choose not to rent firearms but still want to hunt will be provided with federal training in bow & arrow, knife and “persistence hunting” (stalking and chasing game on foot until animal is caught). 

Black market distribution of firearms will be controlled by U. S. Revenueurs, a special elite strike force of Federal and civilian under-cover GUN SWATTERS. SWAT Funding for national firearm prohibition will be diverted from now defunct state, local and Federal drug enforcement since Congress will have passed the “Freedom to Purchase & Use Any Drug Act” which gives Americans the right to legally purchase and use any drug.

This should be considered only the first steps in freeing our country of the curse of firearms. Once these actions are enacted then maybe America will take serious action to ban guns. 

Throw this Veggie Out Now

I beg Every American to throw out this vegetable! Now!

You heard me! Right now. This vegetable deserves no place in America’s kitchens, dining rooms, breakfast and eating nooks of any kind. Especially in restaurants. Don’t order it. If served to you Do Not Eat It. Throw it out. Your gut will thank you. So will your stomach, your chest, your arms, legs,feet,toes,neck and head. You’ll hear your body parts screaming, “Thank you!” Are you ready to have your precious body parts scream “Thank You!”? Act now and you won’t have to watch my 60 minute video showing and telling you over and over again in repetitious testimonials and warnings how to avoid this dreaded vegetable. Your body parts will not only thank you but will thank me, too. How do I stay away from this cursed vegetable? It’s easy. No watching my tedious video. Just send $5.00 US Dollars to me and I’ll reveal this secret vegetable that your avoidance of will bring innumerable benefits too many to discuss here.

False Claims? Lies!

Recently from the CNN news site: “President Donald Trump uttered a rapid series of false claims, at least 13 in all, during his Cabinet meeting on Tuesday. He made another claim for which there is no public evidence, and he offered positive words about an ally’s accusation for which there is no public evidence.” What’s this “false claims” stuff? Why is the media swaddling Trump’s lies in down-comfy platitudes like “false claims.”?

10,000 + This from the Columbia Journalism Review: Since the inauguration, a team of journalists at The Washington Post has kept a tally of every “false or misleading claim” the president has made. (CNN recently dubbed its leader, Glenn Kessler, “one of the busiest men in America.”) Yesterday, the Post confirmed that Trump has roared past the 10,000 mark: as of Saturday, he’d made 10,111 bogus claims in 828 days in office. That works out to roughly 12 per day, 85 per week, or 370 per month. Trump has fibbed at rallies (2,217 times), on Twitter (1,803 times), and in speeches (999 times), among other settings. About one-fifth of Trump’s false or misleading statements have concerned immigration; he’s said his border wall is being built—his most-repeated junk claim—160 times.

False Claims vs Lie. The word “fudge” pops up (out) under VERBS. What’s next? Will the media start calling his lies “fables” or “tales?” We’re just a cold marble slab away from naming Trump’s lies as “fudge.”

Here are some synonyms for lie/false claim. Most of Trump’s “best words” can validly be called:

deceitdeceptiondishonestydisinformationdistortionevasionfabricationfalsehoodfictionforgeryinaccuracymisrepresentationperjuryslandertaleaspersionbackbitingcalumniationcalumnydefamationdetractionfablefalsenessfalsificationfalsityfibfraudulenceguilehyperboleinventionlibelmendacitymisstatementobloquyprevaricationrevilementrevilingsubterfugevilificationwhoppertall storywhite lieVerb: telluntruthdeceivemisleadmisrepresentpromoteBSbeguilebullconconcoctdeludedissembledissimulatedistortdupeequivocateexaggeratefabricatefakefalsifyfibforswearframefudgeinventmalignmisguidemisinformmisspeakmisstateoverdrawpalterperjurepervert
phonyplantprevaricatesnowsoft-soapvictimizebeuntruthfulbear false witnessbreak promisego-back-on make believemisinstruct put on put up a frontstring along.

String Along. Yup, essential Trump.

False claim? No. Just call him what he is: a serial liar. Emphasis on liar

What the….?

We U.S.ers are mostly conversant in common sports terms such as “through the uprights,” (even “double doink” thanks to Chicago Bears 2018 kicker Cody Parkey); a “double play,” “three-pointer,” even “strike” for baseball and bowling. So what sport is being described by this writer?

A wide was followed by a mighty six.

He gathered it and dived for the stumps.

He delivered a couple of eye-catching boundaries.

The ball pitched in line but was deemed to be hitting the outside of the leg stump.

His first delivery was just about perfect and it prompted a huge appeal for lbw.

Of course this is from a description of England’s recent victory over New Zealand in the World Cup Cricket Final. Were you “stumped?”



The past year left me devoid of content. Given the current fragile state of our nation, our threatened democracy, our challenged decency as the American people, I wallowed in near despair, trump-holed in retreat, a mere neck-stretching gaper of the multiple pileup wreck-of-the-day crash of America. Gape, say holy shit, move on and hope that somehow things will change. As Trump is fond of tweeting: sad. So my “sabbatical” year is over. It’s time to stop gaping and vaping and start rapping and mapping a way out of this my-ass morass devoid. And maybe have fun again?



Come on in
Your friends are here
The others somewhere over there
In separate rooms
Hear them talking
In rancorous auto-tuned
News-show voices
Some are standing,
Defending why they made their choices.

Let me introduce you
To our small salon
This is Pooty and his Blowfish Don
They’ve been colluding forever on
He think he rich says shirtless Pooty
But he my poor little bitch and me his bruty.
He do what I say
Like peel me grape
Or maybe I drop
His pee pee tape.

Let’s get a drink
Have you met
Brett the boofus doofus Knowitall
When it comes to keggin’
He’s the supreme law
And with the girls he can have it all.
So draw us a red cup
Of your favorite cheers
Tits and clits I like beer?
Lest we judge
Please be more doctrinal
Like No means yes
and Yes means anal?

Let’s go in here
The room is oval
With a cabinet full of outlaw mofas.
There’s Kellyanne and Kanye
On the sofa
Giving each other an interracial
Snail slime
Foreskin facials.
And Goopy Gwyneth
Gulping water raw
Thru a stainless steel
3-D printed straw.

Down the stairs in the video room
Bezos plays retro Doom
On a screen that’s split into Sim Cities
Creating a new
Ordering Class
By producing a new Delivery Caste
With ease he teases
Then he squeezes
Supplicant applicant Mayors
On spended knees
Offering their keys
To maximize their subsidies.

Let’s don’t explain just break it down
Deep dive unpack it
Drop it please do not release it,
In the media room
The Music has ceased.
Sara Fucka-factaby’s ranting
Slandering truth in dissonant banter
Splendid “no-comment” candor.

Hey let’s karaoke…
Sing the writing on the Wall
Like a Hairy Harvey MeToo grope
A chorus loudly shouting nope
All together now
We won’t sound shrill
In the ancient city of Margaritaville.

“Nibbling on white bread,
watching what Trump said,
Gonna build a big beautiful wall…
With just his small hands,
Our land is his land,
Just Christians inside
It’ll be the new law.

Wasting away again in Trumpathumpaville,
Lookin’ for my lost Forsaken soul;
Some people say political correctness is to blame,
But I know, it’s Obama’s fault all the same.

Voted in the election, made the wrong selection
All I’ve got is this big red Trump hat
But it couldn’t be finer
Made by a child in China
A perfect fit for the Pizza Rat.

Wastin’ away again in Trumpaputinville
Where he made America Hate again
Some people blame it on Bernie’s cult
But I know….it’s all Hillary’s fault.

The election’s over, we’ll never get sober
From drinking all that xenophobic cheer..
But there’s more where that came from,
More hate and lots more fear
That poison concoction that’s stronger than rum.

Wastin’ away again in Trumpatreasonville
Looking for the next racist insult
Some people say there’s a woman to blame
But I know.. It’s our own damn fault.”

Whoa, look who’s standing
Didn’t think he’d show
Holy Francis
Infallibly commanding
In pure white he dances With Vatican ecclesiastical
Orgiastic red head redemption
While gymnastic Handmaidens tell
All and nail
The perfect landing.

In this room the lawyers come and go
Speaking of what Michael Cohen knows.

Hanging out by the old Back door
Welcome worn
Not needed anymore.
There’s old Sears, née Roebuck
Once an amazon now out of luck.
Voter rights a party Casualty
Come back soon
Net Neutrality.

Romaine a trusted
Old green guest
Who mixed with the best
Eggs, anchovies and Parmesan
But now you’ve caused a Pharma run.
Betrayed so brutally
Like Caesar
In his salad days
His fate to die
Stabbed in the gut
The unkindest cut
etu e-coli?

Upstairs is the playroom
The drama unfolds
Hi Stormy hi Karen and your 23&MeToo sisters
No longer alone
Your history like clones
That didn’t need CRISPR.
Let’s hear you sing your song of scorn
“Stormy” now sung to the old tune of “Sunny” reborn.

Stormy, yesterday my life was filled with me
Stormy, you spanked me but I just wanted to watch you pee
My golden throne is now a cheap one- holer
My Stormy please don’t talk to Robert Mueller
Stormy, once taboo, please don’t sue.

Stormy, thank you for your naughty little spanka
Stormy, you remind me so much of my Ivanka.

Stormy, thank you for my starring role in your movie reel,
Stormy, please don’t talk
Let’s make a deal.
$130,000 for you to say hush
The election was in a week
I was kinda in a rush,
Stormy, one so plush
Please don’t blush.

My life sucked with a new-Born baby Baron
I was so bored with that Playmate Karen
Stormy one so blue, please don’t sue. Stormy rated X,
It was just FAKE SEX.

Down in the basement
Under the flooring
Deplorables are Gathered
Party mood Is Soaring.
Visions of parades With tanks and guns
Better and bigger than Kim Jong Un’s.
The Fatherland’s ready
To throw in the towel
Protect your White Walker Women
From the brown caravan
From Guatemala to the Yucatán
The threat is larger than the Giant Cow.

It’s getting late
This party’s sagging
Something missing
Something lacking
From the weight
Of Rooskies Hacking
They set the bait
And now we’re gagging.

Now outside
The wagon waits
Collecting guests who
Didn’t rage
At border kids in a cage.
We sought the sheriff
But have not caught
The Tariffman
As the one
With the “smocking” gun.

The party’s finished
But the fun continues
Dining, dancing, undiminished
While on the menus
Bloodbaths boil
In churches, schools
We all recoil
Scratch our heads
Thoughts and prayers
For the dead
Police protect us from attack
Unless you’re shot for
Being black.

Outside the gates
Hope dictates
That hate abates
Mass shootings
Scheduled so routine
Emotional Support AR15s
Top The Best Seller List
For American white male terrorists.

So..Bye bye….
Ms American Dream

A long long two years ago
I can still remember how America used to make me smile
And I knew that we had a choice
Between a woman’s and the Devil’s voice
And maybe life would be normal for a while.

But that November made me shiver
Across the map a snake did slither
Fake news gave us PutinTrump
On Democracy they took a real dump.

And later when our nation cried
The children caged he just denied.
Something touched us deep inside
The day America died.
Bye, bye
Miss American Dream
Rode an Uber in a stupor to the nearest latrine
And good old ICE boys laughin’ at kids who cried
Braggin’this was the day America died
This was sure the day that it died..

© 2018 LRudmann

America Takes a Knee

America’s Great Divider-in-Chief DJ Trump’s recent rants against Black athletes, calling them SOBs for their First Amendment freedom of expression rights, has caused the nation to nearly deplete its strategic stockpile of kneepads. With Americans from every walk of life “ taking a knee” in solidarity with the athletes, supplies of garden, construction and brothel knee pads are sold-out throughout the supply chain in stores like Ace, Walmart, Home Depot, Family Dollar, Dick’s Sporting Goods and Victoria’s Secret.

Demand is so strong that the Pentagon recently opened its national strategic stockpile of kneepads stored in underground steel and concrete bunkers near Wounded Knee, South Dakota.

An un-named Pentagon official said the demand was so great that the stockpile is virtually depleted. “We are knee-deep in back orders to our Chinese suppliers,” the official said.

Mr. Trump’s obsession with NFL players “taking a knee” during the flag presentations has also created such a national knee-bend crisis that the Neighborhood Association of Orthopedic surgeons has issued a national moratorium on knee replacements. One local knee surgeon, Dr. Art Patella, is reportedly issuing American flags as temporary knee wraps for patients awaiting replacements.

It is also reported that even Catholic church congregations are demanding the return of kneeling benches in the pews. According to local pastor Father Peter Rast, the old kneeling benches remain stored in the St. Concupiscent sanctuary basement. “They’re pretty worn,” said Father Rast, “but when our flock wants to kneel the Church will certainly accommodate.”

Apple To Drop Face Scanning in Next iPhone XI…Rectal Scanning the Next Big Thing.

According to recently revealed secret documents and pre-patent submissions Apple is planning to ditch its newly announced Face Scanning recognition system announced in its newest IPhone X.

Engineering documents show that the next iteration of Apple’s iPhone will implement 3-D Rectal Scanning biometric sensors in all new devices.

An anonymous source at Apple describes rectal scans as the ultimate in personal biometric security. “This new technology takes personal security to a deeper level than finger or face scanning,” according to the source. “It’s well known that no two assholes look alike.”

The new recognition system, tentatively called, “iBendova” will open an iPhone securely using one of two methods. A simple and quick single-finger gesture wave of the phone’s rear camera in front of a pre-registered anus opens the the phone to full functionality. The user can opt for an alternative method called ProctiScan by wearing a special inserted wireless Apple “AirProbe” into rectum initiating a new proprietary protocol called “Brown Tooth” to wirelessly open the iPhone.

An unnamed engineering source said the new recognition system is expected to gain “widespread” acceptance although there are a few significant “buts” to overcome including a projected shortage of flushable 3-D infra-red sensors as well as some minor privacy concerns.

Hey NFL, Maybe Stop Playing the National Anthem? Ok?

Why do American sport franchises, football to baseball, insist on playing the national anthem before games? How did this tradition get started? Wartime tradition. The anthem is a war song, a “battle” like sports? What’s the purpose of a pregame ceremony? To tease the sweaty throngs who witness athletic feats and hoped-for mayhem. To whet their appetite with a little taste of blood, guts and glory. It’s a football game. Like the motto of the Secondary School in Sierra Leone where I once taught: “Play The Game.” Just play the damn game. And what does the American flag have to do with any sport? Why should players and fans be asked to declare their respect, allegiance or love of country by placing hand over heart and singing a national anthem? Because it’s a nice thing to do, some say. Because it allows people to express their communal national fidelity say others. But why at a sporting event and not at a performance of a Verdi opera, a movie or rock concert. What is so inherent in sports to demand a mass display of nationalistic patriotism?

Last year NFL quarterback Colin Kaepernick kneeled rather than stood during his team’s presentation of the national anthem. He said he was protesting racism and police brutality in America. Now, the talented quarterback, who opted out of his contract with the San Francisco 49ers this year, is being blacklisted by other NFL teams as punishment. No team will hire him because he exercised his 1st Amendment right to express his opinion. What if a player wasn’t protesting anything or trying to make some sort of statement by not standing during the singing of the Anthem? What if a player is just too lazy to stand or simply chooses to kneel, crouch or sit rather that stand? Will he be blacklisted for his act of not standing? Is it the act of protest or the act of refusing to stand that gets the player in trouble?

How many TV viewers even watch, let alone stand in front of their TVs, hand over heart, while some NFL-approved singer belts out their unique version of the Star Spangled Banner before a game. Confess. If you walk out of the room to grab a beer or mute the sound or remain sitting in your laz-a-boy when the singing begins before the game then are you just as “unpatriotic” as Kaepernick? Or maybe you are protesting racism? Or is there an unwritten rule that says you only have to stand when physically in the stadium or stands? And why are the seats located in the “stands” anyway?

Recently other NFL players have demonstrated support of Kaepernick by refusing to stand for the anthem before preseason games. If support from more players, the majority of whom are Black, continues, the NFL might have a problem on its hands. Solution: dispense with the pregame display of patriotism, flag waving and singing the national anthem. And no military jets flying over the stadiums. Why conflate a nation’s military prowess with a sporting event?

Or we could go full-flag nationalistic.

The Philippines recently proposed a law requiring citizens to sing along enthusiastically whenever the national anthem is played in public. “The singing shall be mandatory and must be done with fervour,” the Bill states. The law would also mandate the tempo of any public performance of the anthem – it must fall between 100 and 120 beats per minute. If the Bill, which will be considered by the Senate, is approved and signed into law, a failure to sing the anthem with sufficient energy would be punishable by up to a year in prison and a considerable monetary fine. A second offence would include both a fine and prison time, and violators would be penalised by “public censure” in a newspaper.

The Supreme Court in India ruled last November that movie theatres would be required to play the national anthem before screenings, and that moviegoers would be required to stand.

But back to the good old U.S.of A. If sport fans insist on some type of pregame ceremony, song or performance, then how about a mini-scene from a Shakespeare play, a dramatic reading from Homer’s The Odyssey, an aria from “Rigoletto or a preview of a movie or simply a Queen standard such as “We Are the Champions,” or “Bohemian Rhapsody” (my vote); or an act by a gaggle of juggling street mimes or sword swallowers. Ringling Brothers circus recently closed shop so there must be a surplus of good acts or clowns willing to perform.

But if more NFL players choose to support Kaepernick then maybe NFL stadiums will have to install kneeling benches, like in some churches. Football is almost a religion in America anyway. Just saying.

New Defections from Trump’s White Supremacy Presidential Advisory Board

Self styled racist and KKK Grand Poobah David Duke today announced that he is resigning from President Trump's White Supremacy Presidential Advisory Board. This follows a week-long cascade of resignations from various White House Presidential Advisory Boards, including arts, infrastructure, business, technology, penis sexting and women's grab-bagging.

Duke, a stalwart supporter and defender of the president, reportedly said that recent revisions to the White Supremacy Board's mission and agenda "are way too racist and supreme, even for me. "I mean, I know I'm white and supreme but this Advisory Board goes over board." he said. Duke said recent Board discussions by the Racial Purity subcommittee would mandate strict DNA analysis and verification of white heritage. "Look," he said, you just never know what you'll find heritage-wise when you start looking for it. If you look white, then as far as I'm concerned you're good enough white for me." Other White Supremacy Board members, including Ollie Snopestuff, CEO of Chain Saw Chewers Unit 14 of Sheatolh, Alabama and the United Assembly of Southern Torch Marchers, Randal Hawgswalla III, said they were also thinking about leaving the Advisory Board. "Ah got ma on probins wit all thees thangs," said Hawgswalla. "I mean looka Trump hissef…kinda urnge color if you axe me. Where's his white? Jus round his baggy eyeballs fur as I can see. Ah jus dunno."

Repeal & Replace – Yourself, Mr. Trump

Could our long national nightmare be coming to an end? After only 7 plus months, time that now seems an eternity, is the strange malignant man in the White House about to repeal and replace himself? He never really wanted the job in the first place seeking it only out of spite and revenge on President Obama.

Such a strange man. Whoever thought a defender of the Confederacy would rise from the canyons of Manhattan, a slick city-slicker who never worked up an honest day's sweat in his life and inherited his daddy's riches and racism. Who ever thought that an admitted sexual predator, the infamous grabber, a guy who lusted over his own daughter, the guy who once salivated over a ten year old girl on an escalator and lasciviously smirked "I'll be dating her in a few years," could be elected President of the U.S. Whoever thought we would have as President a defender of the traitorous secessionists who turned citizens against each other over the right to own slaves and who now wants to preserve memorials to their traitorous leaders.

Yet it happened. Despite losing the popular vote by about 3 million votes, real estate and morally bankrupt mogul Trump ascended to the nation's highest office on a technicality that is antithetical to the core one-person-one-vote code of democracy.

This strange man, who occupies a revered house ("it's a real dump," he recently said) where Americans allow their Presidents to live in order to preside over their democracy and the moral order of American culture and life. It's called the White House, built by slaves forced to labor for its design and purpose. A house painted a symbolic all-inclusive "equality white" (white is all of the colours of the light spectrum, added together) as a symbol of aspiration and dreams, not a house painted an exclusive "supreme" white.

This strange fellow, our President, said that many of the marching tiki-torch-carrying mob in Charlottesville, VA were "fine people." This strange man says things like this not just because he believes it, but because he must believe it in order to satisfy his insatiable appetite for never admitting he's wrong. This is a guy who'll double down on a meaningless argument over the size of his….inaugural crowd.

We have already gone from democracy to kleptocracy. If Trump repeals and replaces himself then we will have a Pence theocracy. Praise the lord, and pass the chastity belts.

Elite Transgender US Navy Units on Standby

President Twrump today announced that units of the US Navy's Very Special Transgender Extreme Elite CAITLYN (Combat Active Imperial Troops Leading Your Nation) Troops are on standby for possible action in North Korea, Venezuela, Las Vegas or any place that the US could possibly attack in order to boost his poll ratings.

Authorized under a top secret Navy program, CAITLYN Teams specialize in undercover subterfuge, shock and awe and mock coleslaw.

"By activating CAITLYN I send the strongest statement possible that the US stands ready to transfer a fusillade flurry of furious fire to our enemies," Twump said.

The Navy's Transgender CAITLYN Combat Teams are used only in very special circumstances that require the utmost physical and psychological warfare tactics. Navy CAITLYN Teams were created under a secret order, until recently leaked by President Twump. "I wanted the most beautiful and amazing military offensive force ever created in the history of the world, he announced. "These battle-tested warriors are the best…the best. Our Navy SEAL Teams are good, but CAITLYNS are amazing, probably an 8 or 9 out of ten, I'd say. Besides, CAITLYN can beat Seal any day, right? Yuge, beautiful and deadly, these CAITLYN Teams are the best..the best. The best," he said.

Elite CAITLYN Teams don special chameleon camo called Wombat Combat fatigues, named in honor of the elusive and ferocious Wombat, whose daring do's and exploits are chronicled in Will Cuppy's "How to Attract the Wombat (1935, Curtis Publishing). Spoiler alert: you don't.

De-Nuking Trump

Trump says he wants to"de-nuke" the world…by destroying it with nukes.

It's the ultimate de-nuclearization plan. Dang, does this guy know how to make a deal, or what!! Talk and tweet blusters and carry a 1,000 nukes.

This is what happens when we elect a Small hands-on the Big Button guy.

This is what happens when the world's most respected democracy overnight finds itself under the leadership of a thieving narcissistic vain prevaricating sexual predator unpopularly elected by a deficit of 3 million votes.

This is where we are today. One-upping our enemies, picking fights with pitiful third world nations.

This is what happens when our unpopular-elected leader sinks to 30 percent in national approval polls. America loves a "war president." War: the last refuge of an unpopular president.

This is how the world ends. Not with a whimper, but with a meaningless trump.

Don Trump Dum & Kim Jong Un

The father learns from the son. It appears that our Maximum Blessed Leader Don Trump Dum has been taking lessons in public threats. Although analysis of his public speaking and twittering (not reading speeches) reveals that our Dear Leader has an amazing vocabulary of almost 410 words, The Matchless Dealmaker has been brushing up on his Third World Dictator Rhetoric. Channeling his fatty young mentor, Kim Jong Un, who reliably issues his doomsday warnings in over-the-top rhetorical flourishes, our Old Fatty Leader told the world that he would send Young Kim "fire and fury the likes of which the world has never seen."

Young Fat Kim recently told Old Fat Don: "If we push the buttons to annihilate the enemies even right now, all bases of provocations will be reduced to seas in flames and ashes in a moment and the U.S. imperialists’ nuclear strategic means on which the puppet forces depend as ‘saviors’ turn into piles of scrap iron whether they are in the air, seas and land … The army and people of the DPRK will make the gunfire of provocateurs in the reckless war of aggression sound as a sad dirge.”

Ok. This proves sadly that the U.S. is lagging behind North Korea in the Strategic Upyours Florid Rhetorical Syntax (SUFRS) arms (and lip) race. If "fire and fury" is the best we can do, then gods help us – the battle is already lost. Are our SUFRS reserves nearly depleted? We obviously need to restock, rebuild and restore our strategic reserves. May I suggest the following syntactical rhetorical flamboyant constructions guaranteed to boost Don Trump Dum's threat cred and send sonny boy Kim scurrying for cover in his personal bomb shelter under his secret golf course. Take this, Supreme Dear Leader:

"No pity for your corpulent Dear Leader and his weakling generals and soft doughy armies of the DRNK as your flesh-burns in atomic reaction to our mighty scourge from the skies."

And this:

"You and your commie cohorts should start beseeching your Satan idols to save you from America's Christian No-Mercy Vengeful Wrath. When we unleash our all-powerful Lord of the Skies Justice hell's fire will feel like unguents of balm compared to the suffering succotashes about to sprout up your sorry pinko butts."

Or this:

"Bow down ye north of the 38th parallel heathens before our murderous honored and respected armies of Love and Freedom which promise to squash your hopes, dreams and faces into the bloody mud of your soon to be defeated homeland. No mercy on your charred and twisted corpses as Jesus beats Juche every time."

We must not spare the ROD, Rhetoric of Doom, that we could rain down upon Lil' Kim (the fatty…not not washed-up rapper). "Fire and Fury?" Nah. Sounds like pair of cute kittens.

Donald’s Smart Lil’ Cookie

Will Kim Jong Un, the world’s youngest dictator be the salvation of Donald J Trump, one of the world’s oldest dictator’s-in-training? As Trump’s troubles continue to hit the fan, splattering the face of American democracy, Lil’ Kim (not the has-been Black female rapper, cultural-appropriator extraordinaire) launches provocative missiles into the sea, issues dire warnings of incinerating the U.S. and wolfs down several Big Macs and Large Fries. (He secrets them in hidden Presidential Freezers away from his half-starving nation ready to be celebratorily gorged upon at a missile-launching’s notice… as Trump said “….he’s a smart cookie.”)  
As Trump nears the impeachment precipice, the North Korean missile launches skyrocket. Could this be Trump’s ace in the hole? North Korea sinks one of our ships floating around in the Korean Sea. Trump nukes Pyongyang. Trump is canonized by an American public eager to rally-around a War President. (Nothing brings Americans together more than a good old- fashioned war.) 
Special Investigator? Nyet. Senate and Congressional probes? Nyet. Now Trump is even deeper in debt to Putin, who encouraged young Jong Un to blast the American warship with his assurance that Russia would have his back and defend the Kim Dynasty against the American perps. Kim and his Presidential Hair Stylist are promised a special flight to Moscow before Trump attacks. Putin reneges, Kimmy is nuked. Trump is a hero. Trump backs out of NATO, goes to Moscow to receive Russian Medal of Honor. Putin delivers on Nikita Khrushchev’s 1960’s declaration that “we will bury you” (America). Where’s China? No more threat of American influence and power in their region. The U.S.has been reduced to a third-rate kleptocracy. China, in a gracious gesture, approves hundreds more Ivanka Trump product trademarks. Trump hotels rise throughout Russia. Oh, and Putin personally hands over the “golden shower video tape” to Trump with the assurance that there are no copies. Now there’s a Trump Deal. How do you say “sucker” in Russian? 

Memogate: What Comey’s Memo Omitted 

Poor Donald Trump. So misunderstood. So picked-on. Jeez, the poor fellow can’t do anything right according to the fake lame-stream media. Take this latest accusation that he tried to get then-FBI director James Comey to drop the investigation of ousted National Security chief Michael Flynn. Comey purportedly wrote himself a cover-ur-arse CYA memo quoting Trump. 
“I hope you can see your way clear to letting this go, to letting Flynn go,” Mr. Trump supposedly told Mr. Comey, according to the memo. “He is a good guy. I hope you can let this go.”

Except Comey left out some key words. Here’s what Trump actually said: 

“I hope you can see your way clear to letting this (investigation) go (on), to letting Flynn go (remain fired),” “He is (not) a good guy. I hope you can.” 

See what a few key omissions does? It makes it sound as if Our Honorable President was trying to obstruct an investigation. Someone’s got to stand up for the truth. Whatever that means. 

Presidential Fidgetitis

They’re clicking, pushing, rolling and spinning their way into our homes, cars, offices and especially school classrooms. Originally designed and invented to supposedly give kids with autism and ADHD something to fidget and thus increase their focus on learning tasks, fidget toys are the hottest fad since Trump normalized the word “pussy.” Now everyone tries to find novel ways to insert the pussyword into everyday conversation. Thanks, Trump. 
But fidgets, especially the spinning variety, are even hotter. Who wants to” F-word” when you can “F(idget) word.”

But I’ve finally figured out the cause of this national fidget fphenomenon. Who has the attention span of a toddler? Who cannot complete a complete sentence and repeats every other word multiple times? Who frantically waves tiny gesticulating fingers to atone for his monumental inarticulateness? Who serially discharges flatulent boasts of greatness atop other hyperbolic emissions of self-aggrandizement? Who has the self-control and restraint of a hyper-hormonal teenager, the selfish inability to delay the slightest amount of gratification? Who issues bizarre tweets at 3 a.m. and watches more TV than a 70-something year-old white guy hooked on Fox News? (Spoiler alert?) Answer: our Fidgeter-in-Chief, the World’s Sorest-winner and Biggest-loser by 3 million votes in the 2016 Presidential Election. That’s who. That’s who. 
With the reputed Leader of the Free World exhibiting zero restraint and self control, it’s no wonder most Americans are in a heightened state of anxiety, not sure from hour to hour what’s going to gush forth from Trump’s sphincteral hemorrhoidal lips. Simply stated, we have a president with a severe case of fidgetitis. It’s time, like all other Americans, that Mr. Trump channel his inner fidgetiness and seek relief from his acute fidgetitis through the body and soul-calming effects of a fidget spinner. 
In fact, I’m donating my own a special fidget spinner to him, one I carefully crafted and balanced to spin the most tremendously of any fidget toy ever. It will spin so much Mr. Trump will get tired of spinning. I call it Trump’s Little Digit Fidget Winner Spinner. With proper use of this special, tremendously great fidget spinner, Mr. Trump will be able to control his impulsive need to express himself vaingloriously in 140 characters or less. Fidgeting with this spinner, Mr. Trump will care less about how he totally vanquished his opponent Hillary by getting 3 million fewer votes and care more about learning basic social skills that don’t require a mouthful of Tic-Tacs. He will be less inclined to denigrate women, immigrants, military veterans, and the physically handicapped and to develop, better late than never, a basic level of emotional intelligence. 
America is on edge, anxious and unfocused. Our obsession with Fidget spinners is an expression of the symptoms. But the cure is in the cause. Our fidgety Trumpety must spin. Fidget to focus. Spin old man, spin like the wind. 

Trumputin Syrian Plot

Trumputin Syrian Plot
(Trigger warning: the following post contains speculations and alternative facts…read with caution). 
I’m not a conspiracy theorist. But indulge me as I sniff out a rats’ nest of matted hair, rotted pizza, moldy bits of borscht and the detritus of a desperate Trump administration. 
Syrian President “The Chinless Henchman” Assad purportedly nerve gasses civilians. He’s already winning the war against his citizens, as Trump says, bigly. So he wakes up one fine morning in his palace, slides off his silk sheets, stretches while gazing out his balcony window and thinks: “I think I’ll gas some folks today. What the hell.” Ok, dozens of innocents are brutally killed and maimed by his gas attack. Oh my gosh, Trump sees gut-wrenching photos of children and babies writhing in agony and is “moved.”  This from a guy who loathes immigrants and whose proposed budget wrecks havoc and suffering on the most vulnerable of Americans. If the recently deceased insult-comedian Don Rickles was “Mr. Warmth”  then Trump surely is “Mr Empathy.” So someone, maybe Ivanka, explains to him the concept of “human suffering.” Ivanka adds in a little deal-sweetener by telling her dad that Assad might have said his chin is larger than Trumps hands. Wow… now we’re talking real human suffering. Let’s bomb an airfield and show that low-energy Little Assad who’s the real boss. Bombs Away! Fifty nine Tomahawks chop up a Syrian runway. NBC’s Brian “The Exaggerator” Williams says he was “guided by the beauty of our weapons,” whatever that means. Other TV pundits declare that by shooting missiles Trump has become Presidential…apparently again, the first time after he exploited a Navy Seal’s death during a speech to Congress. What is it about causing death and destruction that makes mere mortals “Presidential?” But I digress. 
So, Assad nerve gasses his citizens, Trump teaches him a lesson by Tomahawking an airstrip, Trump is suddenly very “Presidential.”  His polls rise. No one is talking about his administration’s alleged collusion with the Russians to help him win the Presidency. Mission accomplished. 
Putin is now saying that Syrian rebels are responsible for the nerve gas attack, not Assad. No one with half of a brain believes that Putin didn’t know of the nerve gas attacks in advance. Did he evacuate his Russian “advisors” on the ground before the attack as many believe. (Damn, I’m sounding like Trump.. many have heard, lot of people are saying…) The big question is: did the Trump administration collude, again, with Putin to stage the gas attacks to take the heat off Trump, reduce interest in the investigation of Russia’s hacking our election and of course bolster Trump’s poll numbers. Putin agrees to order Assad to carry out the gas attacks, tells Trump he can shoot off a few Presidential Tomahawks to scalp an airstrip, allowing Trump officials to criticize Putin’s support for Assad demonstrating to the world that Trump and Putin are not pals. This puts Trump even deeper in debt to Putin but gives him breathing space, better poll numbers and that elusive “Presidential” patina. (A real challenge covering up that tanning salon orange). Meanwhile, Trump remains silent on Putin. No direct criticism. With Putin potentially holding that Golden Shower videotape, is it any wonder? 
Crazy? Yes. Unbelievable? Well, conspiracies are by their nature on the surface not believable. Conspiracy theories are not really theories as much as speculation.  The first dictionary definition of theory is:
  1. a coherent group of tested general propositions, commonly regarded as correct, that can be used as principles of explanation and prediction for a class of phenomena: Einstein’s theory of relativity.  Synonyms: principle, law, doctrine. 
Down the list of theory definitions at number 6 and 7 are:
…..contemplation or speculation: the theory that there is life on other planets
…..guess or conjecture: My theory is that he never stops to think words have consequences.
So, this new Trumputin Syrian nerve gas conspiracy is just that. Speculation. Like Trump’s conspiracy theory that Obama was born in Kenya. Except the latter has been disproven and the former has not. 
Now it’s on to North Korea. Rising provocations mean rising polls.  How “Presidential” will Trump look if he provokes a nuclear conflagration and WW-3? 
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The Craven

The Craven  
The Craven  
(With apologies to E.A. Poe)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while Trump pondered leaks
and leery
over media complaints so furious at his volumes o’misbegotten tweets galore  —

While he plotted, clearly snacking, suddenly there
came a tapping,
As of Obama rap’n tapping crazy
From inside his microwavy.
“ ’Tis some thugger,” thus he muttered, “tapping at my
Oven door—
Only this and and a whole lot more.”

Back to his chamber & cell phone turning, all his coal within him burning,
Soon again he heard a tapping something louder than before.
“Surely,” said he, “surely that is something at my Oval Office door;
Let me see, then, what the threat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my tweets accusatory and this mystery
not ignore
’Tis fake news and nothing more!”
Open here he flung his twitters, when, with Many a fart and flitter,
In there be his TaxReturns
Of the corrupt days of yore;
Perched above his microwave’s door.
Quoth the TaxReturns “Nevermore.”

Guys & Dolls

Guys & Dolls
Maybe it’s just a coincidental diversion from the 24/7 Trump all news all day Trump-this-and-Trump-tweeted-that but dolls are suddenly in the news, fake or not. Dolls, as in American Girl Dolls. Or an American Girl “Boy” doll. As described by Mattel, this 18″ (tall) boy doll, with an algorithmically correct name of Logan Everett, is dressed in hipster t-shirt and dark washed jeans and plays drums in his friend Tenny Grant’s band. The guess is that Tenny (Tennyson?) is still taking guitar lessons in the Mattel incubation 3-D printing  laboratory. 
Since we live in an age when everything has political ramifications even dolls are now politicized and this new American Girl boy doll is shearing our fraying cultural fabric into even smaller shreds and threads.  Political and cultural conservatives are as outraged as are some liberal feminist factions condemning this incursion of plastic male chromosomes into the girly no-boys-allowed worlds of doll collection and play. Other self-proclaimed enlightened parents see Little Logan as a teachable lesson in diversity while others reportedly hold that little boys like to play with dolls too. 
And this brings us to another issue. Is our new American Girl Boy Logan a stealth “gateway doll” priming the pump not just for diversity but for homosexuality, transgenderization and even pedophilia?  (Will Mattel see large orders of Lil’ Logan from The Vatican? Just kidding, Francis!) What are we to do? One answer could be to embrace the newly announced Jazz Jennings Transgender Doll announced recently by a New York doll company, according to the New York Times. 
Based on the real 16 year-old Jazz Jennings, who at age 6 appeared on national television to discuss his transcendent journey from boy to girl, does the new Jazz Transgender doll solve this doll conundrum or add to the confusion and division? Some big questions arise. Foreskinmost – is Jazz T anatomically authentic? Or chromosomally correct? Is it only a matter of time before America’s boy doll Longan’s friend Tenny becomes “Tranny?” 
As Baby Boomers transition from boomers to doomers maybe it’s time for kids to play with old people dolls like the kind one finds on Pinterest. This will prepare them for their career fate of elder parent care. How about American Old Person Doll Elmer Hopkins, age 92, and his nursing home next door resident Florence Flowers, age 90. Elmer and Florence wear cotton jogging pants, pajamas and sweat shirts that say Have a Great Grampy/Grammy Day. The Elmer and Florence dolls comes with their own walkers with removable little tennis balls on the feet. But perhaps the best dolls for these troubled times might be Russian Matryoshka or babushka nesting dolls, one
inside the other, each one unveiling more and more of the rotten truth of Trump’s complicity with the Rooskies to steal the Presidential election. And I wanted to keep this subject just about dolls. Thanks, Trump. 

So Presidential!

PresidenTsar Trumputin continues to break records, exceed the best and out-tremendous-ize winning while out-superlativizing and most-hyperbolisizing just about everything and everyone in the galaxy. No one is more “less racist, less anti-Semitic” says Him Who Is He or He Who Is Him.  “No one respects women more than me,” he has said on too many occasions. And now our New PresidenTsar has even exceeded his own Wonderfulness by reading a speech (the Best speech ever!) line by wonderful line one after another and another! Whew! We’re blown away by all his majestic ability to read. But last night’s Speech of Speeches set a new record for the Greatest Exploitation of a Grieving Military Widow. As The PresidenTsar himself might say, “No one exploits grieving war widows better than me.” Trump over-milked the audience’s sympathies for Carryn Owens, whose Navy Seal hero husband Chief Petty Officer William “Ryan” Owens, was killed last month in a fcuked-up mission in Yemen. His exploitation of Chief Ryan and his widow served to justify his own reckless approval of the ill-fated, poorly planned mission. Trump’s “enemy of the American people” media praised his phony compassion. Even the liberal CNN pundit Van Jones joined fellow duped-commentators by calling Trump’s fraudulent focus on Mrs Ryan “one of the most extraordinary moments you have seen in American politics, period.” Jones further slobbered over himself declaring that Trump “…became president of the United States in that moment, period. That thing you just saw him do, if he finds a way to do that over and over again, he’s going to be there for eight years.” Well, that’s that! I guess we can expect many more ill-planned military excursions which will serve up lots of victims and widows and family to be showcased for the next PresidenTsar speech. Chief Ryan, little did you know that by sacrificing your life, you created a “president.” America grieves your death for so many reasons.

Thanks, Obama

Barrack Hussain Obama, 44th President
The most dignified, noble and decent man to ever lead America and the world, Barrack Hussain Obama, leaves the White House today and cedes the keys to the most vain, coarse, insecure, mentally deranged, contemptible and corrupt person to ever rule from our nation’s solemn Oval Office. 
Was Barrack Obama the most prepared man to assume the Presidency? Did he seek the office from purely altruistic motivations? Would he had even thought about pursuing the Presidency had he not been encouraged by insider professional political operatives who saw the opportunity to fulfill their political fortunes through a highly educated charismatic young African American with gifted oratory skills and a raw talent for connecting with people? No is probably answer. 
Barrack Obama spoke in dulcet refrains about hope and change. Not original ideas. Bill Clinton was the Man From Hope. All politicians stand for change. But Obama, a true first generation “African-American” — black African father from Kenya and white mother from Kansas, embodied the conceit of America’s melting pot, representing hope for a post-racial era. His voice echoed yearning, a plea to summon our better selves. We can do this, yes we can he said. And a popular majority of American voters and Presidential electors did. Twice. Then, days after his first Inauguration Republican knives were sharpened in the shadows of the majority Senate which declared its priority for the next four years would not be governing a legislative agenda but instead dedicating themselves to ensuring that the President not have another four years in office. Obama, like the rookie he was, wasted his first year in office naively attempting to compromise and “reach across” the partisan aisle. That was his style that successfully propelled him through his bi-racial life. When “go along to get along” hit the Republican brick wall he was still convinced that he could charm, call upon their “better angels” or at least mollify their dominant devils. Wrong. 
What I like about him is this: his intentions, ideas and hopes for change are positive. His proposals and ideas, unlike Google’s now abandoned motto, “do no evil,” sought to achieve common good. On the environment and climate change, the most important issues of our era, he lead the world in seeking solutions.  No new wars. No 911-like terror attacks on U. S. soil. Brought BinLaden to justice. He pulled us out of the Great Recession. Unemployment is at historic low levels. Obamacare is flawed, but well-aimed, well intentioned and 20 million uninsured now have health insurance. Obama sees America as already great with unlimited potential whereas a demagogue such as Trump sees himself as a demigod ruling by threats and fear of the future with hope furtively hiding in the past. 
It says a lot about recent presidencies that when Obama serves eight years with little or no administrative corruption and absolutely no personal scandals it becomes a hallmark. His Presidency embodied decency and decorum and adherence to the American family values that Republicans proclaim and preach but often ignore and defy through anti-family, anti-women, pro business policies. 
Thank you Barrack Hussain Obama for eight proud years of hard work, courageous leadership and devotion to America. Thanks Obama! 

Make The Inauguration Great Again

The president-erect’s transition team entertainment committee is working overtime (without pay, of course) to make the Jan 20th presidential Inauguration Great Again. After all, President Barrack Obama’s two Inaugurations included only just about every A-list artist, performer and entertainer from around the world. So many offered to perform that to accommodate everyone his Presidential Inauguration would have taken weeks and made Woodstock look like a middle school Xmas pageant.  But Mr. T has given his minions orders to book the Best, Most Amazing, Top Shelf, A++ Stars to showcase his coronation. How’s that working out? 
Here are just a few Trump inaugural celebrity entertainers who have been booked so far. Some have committed; others are aspirational.  
The number-one “get” is a 16 year-old girl named Jackie Ivancho. Yep, That Jackie? So far this is the only firmly committed act, besides The Madison Square Garden Rockettes dancers, except those who opted out, and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Others invited but not yet committed include: 

Lady Gaga? No, but Lady Gaggag… ex porn star turned gospel singer will perform her hit single ” Jesus I’m Hot for Your Body & Blood 

Wayne Newton, of course.. singing his big 1963 hit Danke Schoen. Newton will represent Native Americans as he claims he is of Cherokee heritage. 

Katy Perry? No, But at least the Perry part.. Branson, MIssouri‘s very own  Perry Como, 1950-60 crooning sensation and traditional  Xmas songster. 

Pussy Riot  – Russian All-girl punk performance band. Perfect for the Pussy Grabber-In-Chief.  
Frank Sinatra? He’s certainly dead enough and would be the perfect  reflection of the president-erect’s treatment and views of women and of course Frank’s “little man” bullying personality would match Trump’s to a capital T.  So solicitations to his daughter Nancy have been extended should she be interested in walking her white go-go boots all over Mr. T’s star-studded stage.

70’s hair band Badfinger. What Don really likes is their hair. But also because the band is SHORT two Finger members who suicided themselves SHORTLY after becoming popular in those early 1970 days.  
Pharrell WillIams? Well, Pharrell actually said that he would not be “HAPPY” to perform for the Celebration of Darkness. But his great uncle Andy Williams, of Xmas song fame and 
major star in Branson, MO, has indicated thru his legal guardian great grandchildren, that he might, emphasis on might, be available to perform at the trumpian gala. 

Kayne West? Trumpie’s best bet for a so-called true A-list entertainer. He’s pals with the Big Grabba. Says he woulda voted fo’em if he’d voted. Made a special pilgrimage to the  Tower to rap wit’em. Egos like smokin’ eggos from a hot-wired toaster. Mutual Sadmiration Society. This could happen. For the life of me I can’t see Kanye and Twrumpie performing “Life of Pablo” but we can only hope.  

Aging faux-rocker turned country western wannabe, Ted Nugent will probably do something in addition to reprising some of his best racist rants and tirades. He might even demo some of his recipes from his popular book, “Kill it and Grill It.”   

Direct from Petersburg, Kentucky comes amazing acts from the Eighth Wonder of the World, The (Cretin) Creation Museum. The main creationist performance will be a teenage Jesus Christ riding bareback on a baby dinosaur. (This act of course proves that Earth is only several thousand years old and that Jesus loves bareback riders) 
And floating down Pennsylvania Ave., on loan from the Cretin Creation Museum, will be Noah’s Ark, filled with animals two-by-two poopin’ an whoopin’ an ruttin’ and buttin’ and growlin’ & howlin’. Good times. 
The two entertainment capitals of the World, Vegas and Branson, Missouri are expected to contribute world-class acts of song, dance and general white working class merriment. Here are a few of the highlighters we hope will entertain the billions and billions of Trump fans who will be gathered to watch this amazing, yuuge historic winning moment. 

The Amazin’ Pet Circus will be invited to delight the galaxy during this “Make The  Inauguration Great Again” Extravaganzalapalooza. 
No one loves hillbilly music and backyard hog comedy more than the new president Trump, who as a New York City self-proclaimed billionaire, is famous for his musical talents playing the saw, hair comb and wash-board while clicking his heels and stompin’ in his Gucci clodhoppers. No one can heehaw better than Donald.  He is the best heehawler. Believe him! 
The “Branson’s Famous Baldknobbers” will keep the global intergalactic audience in stitches with their music and comedy antics, most hilariously their famous act called the “Kingdom of Droopy Drawers”…just the type of comedy loved by the Trump family.  
And, topping it all off, that crazy Branson Japanese fiddle player who delights astounded audiences by playing real fast. And by golly he’s Japanese, too! 
Yessir, it’s gonna be a real down-home old white man ho-down (except for that Japanese fiddler). Guaranteed to be the Greatest Presidential Inauguration celebration ever seen by man. Eat your heart out Obama. Believe me.  

Hillary: Tough As Nails

Who do want as President, a tough proven hard ass who will stare down Vlad the Imputin or a bloated thin-skinned sissy-manboy who sucks up to and admires bullies like Putin. Hillary, or Hellary if you choose, is a short low center-of-gravity no-nonsense woman who won’t be knocked over. 
Ok, she can be a stingy with the truth… when it’s personal….but damn she’ll drown you without compassion in a bathtub of hard truths, hard facts and hard-headed realistic policy proposals. 
With a built-in bullshit detector honed to a laser point by a lifetime of living with Bill, Hillary will chew you up, spit you out and grind your sorry deplorable prevaricating ass into a cosmic wedgie. Whatever that is. And yes, she has strategically decided to stay “married” to The Bill. You can bet that one of her first actions as President on the proverbial DAY ONE will involve a special Presidential Proclamation with a huge scrollygirly-font banner-head that reads: D.I.V.O.R.C.E.  She knows she owes that special “Day One” action to all her sisters who voted for her. And to her granddaughter and Chelsea. 
Deceitful Donald cares not a tinker’s dam for The Truth.  He creates his own truths, or as Hillary said in the first debate he “lives in his own reality.” Which although a clever line, was wasted on his supporters who thought it was a compliment. (Of course most of his supporters do not watch things like debates, preferring a good re-run of Duck Dynasty or Neck’ed an Abraded.”
Hillary has been criticized all her public life (as are many women) for her looks, dress, hairstyle. The headband. The bangs. The pantsuits. The frown. The smile. The laugh. Her legs. Does she react like an insecure self-obsessed teenager? No. she moves on, self assured and confident that decent people will accept her and judge her on what she does and has accomplished for the public good. 
Compare & contrast that to Donald, master of the Art of The Fear, a seventy-year old man obsessed with his fluffy bleached combed-forward-back & over hair extensions, overweight and pendulous yet fat-shaming women who don’t meet his standards of beauty … “no fat pigs, dogs, slobs or disgusting animals.” And of course not pregnant. (Trigger Warning: Imagine climbing in bed with a naked Trump.) Trump has the Temperament and self-assurance of an eighth grade mean girl.
Enough of Trump. We’re here with Hillary. Don’t trust her? I bet Putin, Kim Jong-un and that crazy Filipino President Rodrigo Duterte don’t trust her either. After the mild, gentlemanly erudite Obama, America seems to be pining for a “strongman” President who can scare the crap out of dictators, despots and terrorists with a no-nonsense dose of hardcore reality…this is the way it is fellows. Now boys, let’s sit down and work it out. Or else. Hillary: strongwoman. Mild-mannered she is not. How could she be after fighting, scratching, clawing and outmaneuvering her way to the top, busting thru glass ceilings like a Die Hard Bruce Willis crashing thru a skyscraper window. Her father didn’t stake her millions of bucks to start a business. She used her brains, not daddy’s money, to begin her long slog to the top. 
All candidates hyperbolically declare that they are “fighters” and that they will fight for you. Hillary is fond of saying that too, with this difference: she’s been in one cage fight after another, winning some, losing some. But she never declines a challenge to climb back in the next cage to administer a beatdown on her opponent. The woman can fight and will fight good fights as President. 
Oh, and unlike Donald, Hillary doesn’t mind being called “Hillary.” She doesn’t demand Senator or Madam Secretary. Donald requires everyone, even his son-in-law, to nonsobriquet him as Mr. Trump. Hillary won’t be called Hillary next January 20. From then on we’ll just call her Madam President. 
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Cures For What Ails Mr. Trump

Although I’m not a physician, I sometimes attempt to play one on the internet. Like many hypochondriacs, I often diagnose whatever daily symptoms I unearth in my decrepit bodily state by consulting the myriad health web sites such as Web MD, Mayo Clinic, Shamanize DotCom and Farmers Almanac. As I wrote in a recent blog post, I think we should be worried for Donald Trump’s health. His florid face, slow pendulous gait, saggybaggy frame and fast food habits should concern us all. So after consulting many medical web sites, Big Pharma daytime TV commercials, The Merck Veterinary Manual,  Gray’s Anatomy of the Human Body and Daytime TV re-runs, and A Field Guide to Hunters’ Self-inflicted Shotgun Wounds, I have compiled a prescriptive list of medications and remedies that I recommend Mr. Trump ask his doctor if they are right for him. 
Number One on my list is ibuprofen. This anti-inflammatory med will relieve Mr. Trump of the one of his most debilitating ailments: the heartbreak of embarrassing Inflammatory Statement Idiot Syndrome (ISIS)  With a strong dose of this common med Trump will still think that Mexicans are rapists and women are disgusting fat pigs but not articulate these thoughts verbally. Take 3 x a day with a cup of chamomile tea. 
It’s apparent that Trump is suffering from IBS, irritable bowel syndrome.  His extreme gesturing with his short fingers, always pointing awkwardly up, as if seeking to plug a looseness within, is a sure sign that his bowels are irritated. Prescription: lots of options, but the Doctor thinks he should…uh…just suck it up. 
Since we’re in this area anyway, Trump’s little puckered mouth, lips pursed in a knot, is a clear indication of some serious hemorrhoidal issues. Obvious relief: Preparation AH. Apply whenever mouth puckers. 
Donald is famous for his sensitivity to criticism. At his ripe age of 70 he is becoming even more thin-skinned than ever. The Doctor prescribes gentle exfoliation of his outer epidermal germinal terminal with a soft application of baby oil on the Trumpus rumpus. 
As the campaign rolls on and Hillary gains in the polls, Mr Grumpy Trumpy exhibits strong symptoms of the Dreaded Low Jive T. aka DJT. He seems to be unable to focus on the locus, is short-tempered, resents (or is jealous of) women, and people, this is just what I’m hearing, I’m hearing it from everyone, folks….he has been having spontaneous eruptions of little girl tears. Obvious diagnosis: LOW T. Shoot him up with some Second Amendment Testostoronium says the Doctor! 
Mr. Trump’s orange hair and skin color is an obvious sign of carotenemia, usually caused by eating too many carrots and colorful vegetables. But Trumps fondness for McDonald’s and KFC fast foods rule out this diagnosis. So I recently consulted a Catholic Guilt Counselor, Father Peter Rast, who posits that Mr. Trump’s attraction to all-white friends and audiences has submerged deep within his meager consciousness a multicultural guilt complex that manifests itself through discoloration of his skin from pale white to a smarmy orange. Father Rast recommends exorcism and the administration of Extreme UnctIon or Last Rites, plus a liberal application of Clearasil to clear up that mean girl junior high complexion. 
And lastly, the elephant, or muskrat, in the room: Trump’s flamboyant bouffant combed-over-and-back-left-and-right hair. Although not technically a disease or syndrome, his peacock exhibition of his hair invites analysis. Once again, some people are saying, in fact a lot of people are saying…folks…this is just what I’m hearing…believe me…that Donald J. Trump is as bald as a buzzard’s beak buried in the bowels of a bloated four day old opossum roadkill. Renowned hair specialist Doctor Estensión Weavier has seen this extreme hair style only once in her illustrious career. As she recalls, “I was on a trip in the Amazon in search of an ancient mysterious hair growing plant used by the Trumpanamba tribe called “hertadagonatumora,” from the extinct species rogainafolliculus. After consulting many indigenous people I came to learn that this magical plant had been devoured to the point of extinction by local Red Rumped Macaque Primates whose clan grew long orange hair swooped in a style that covered their red naked rumps…a style now favored by the Republican nominee for the US President.” As to his apparent need for this bizarre manifestation…there is no cure, she added. 
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How Do You Like Me Now?
Will the Wizzened Dark Evil One Endorse the Bloated-Faced Evil Orange One?
Ok Dick Cheney, nation building-invading Dr. Strangelove, you still sticking with Trump? The Mad Playboy says no more invading! At least he still loves water boarding, so dear to your stolen desiccated artificial heart.

Mr. Dick-tater Head
Mad Tyrant Trump’s campaign manager Paul Manafort lobbied for world-champion dictator-despots like Ferdinand Marcos, Angolan guerrilla mass-murderer Jonas Savimbi, Mobutu Sese Seko, dictator of Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of Congo), dictator torturer-extraordinaire Sani Abacha of Nigeria and Ukraine’s former mobster president Viktor Yanukovych ? Who could be his next client?  North Korea’s baby faced despot dictator Kim Jong Un?

Ask Your Doctor if Trump Is Right For You. 
Let’s ask an important question. Does Donald Trump really look healthy? By all outward appearances Mr. Trump’s florid face, slow pendulous gait, saggybaggy frame certainly leads one to assume he might not be in the most robust health. Although I’m not a doctor (I just play one on the internet) the aforementioned, plus his well-documented preference for high fat/sodium/sugar fast foods indicates a person with a high risk for cardiovascular disease and or diabetes. All candidates seeking the highest office in the world should not only release their medical records but should undergo a complete physical exam performed by an independent team of physicians with the results made public. This is the era of sharing, after all.

Extreme Wetting
Donald Trump’s announcement that he will employ “extreme vetting” for new wannabe immigrants begs for more clarification. Will new immigrant applicants be subjected to waterboarding to force their confessions of love for Sharia Law? Or just simple lie detector tests? Are you now, or have you ever been a member of an Islamic Terrorist organization? Maybe special extreme Rorschach tests: does this picture remind you of a burka or a suicide vest? Or maybe by “extreme” Trump means “extremities.” Think cattle prods and fingernails. Dark Cheney, you might be coming out of retirement.

Olympic Dudes.. I Feel Your Pain. 
I’ve had it! Enough is enough. Enuf already, Ok? Stop! Quit it now! I can’t take it any more. I’m fed up and just about had it up to here. Not there: HERE! I’m so tired of having my body objectified. I feel for those poor Olympic guys in Rio, the swimmers, the gymnasts, weight lifters. I feel their pain. Being ogled and whistled at one can almost feel the fantasization as described in recent Cosmopolitan Magazine headline: Olympic Gold Bulges. Cosmopolitan Magazine headline: Olympic Gold Bulges.

Michelle Actually Stole Melania’s Speech

Did Melania crib Michelle’s speech? Easy explanation. First: the answer is NO! Michelle actually plagiarized Melania’s speech. Wait, you say. Michelle gave her speech eight years before Melania wrote and spoke hers. What are you talking about? Well, if you live in the Fox News right-wing bubble, this is entirely possible and indeed a well-established fact. Reality bends into itself twisting truth inside out. Just like Obama’s mother deliberately married a Kenyan and gave birth to baby Barrack in Kenya, she knew all too well that someday her son would run for President and so destroyed his birth certificate and surreptitiously moved to Hawaii to establish his US citizenship.  Michelle Obama, in 2008, knew all too well that In 2016 Donald Trump’s third wife Melania would write an beautiful original speech to present at the Republican Convention to nominate her husband Donald Trump. We know how these sneaky liberals work…a dirty play plagiarized from the Clinton dirty tricks playbook. Obama/Clinton operatives reached illegally eight years into the future thru a Black Lives Matter Hole, and using a secret email server, tore a seam in the universe, grabbed a copy of Melania’s speech, which she had worked so hard on, and plagiarized it word for beautiful word. End of controversy. 
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Burnt Feet, Pit Bulls and Tickling.

And on a lighter note….
More cops killing black people, black people killing cops, Hillary’s careless emailing, Trump’s daily racist, misogynist, xenophobic, bigoted Tweets, Brexit fallout, the mass-shooting-of-the-month…alligator snatches toddler at Disney World…the worst of times…and the worst of times. What a summer so far. And the Trump Republican coronation convention still awaits. After the Dallas cop  sniper-murders The NY POST ran a William Randolph Hearst yellow-journalism banner head declaring “CIVIL WAR.”  (In 1897 Hearst dispatched illustrator Fredric Remington to cover for his newspaper the Cuban uprising against Spanish rule and supposedly told him “you furnish the pictures and I’ll furnish the war.”) 
Maybe America needs a breather. Instead of a war. 
Just a few weeks ago we were engaged in news accounts of the gorilla who was shot after tossing around a small boy who had fallen into its zoo pen. Boy 1. Gorilla 0. 
Later we were charmed by the heart-warming story of the cultish followers of self-help guru Tony Robbins who burnt their feet walking on his command across burning coals. Good times. 
And of course we all giggled uncontrollably at news articles about the latest athletic endeavor of Competitive Endurance Tickling. A new documentary, “Tickled” exposes this brutal underground, “fight club”-like dangerous sport. Belly laughs all around. 
Also in the news, a story, based on a new book, “Pit Bull… the Battle over an American Icon,” pits this viscous breed against its reputation as a face-ripping 4-legged monster dog. Not so fast, argues this book’s author. Pit Bully is really a cuddly, lovable lil’ ball of puppy fur. Hmmmm.  Good dog. Down boy…..down…..
But now it’s “BLACK/BLUE/All LIVES MATTER” 24-7. Predictions of race riots, vigilantes, mobs, civil war. I’d  walk across hot coals laughing until I cried  uncontrollably, a gorilla and a pit bull on leash, if all we had to worry and argue about were dogs, burnt feet and tickling.

Damn turd pol or the Damp old runt.

Remember Pat Paulsen? The comedian who ran for President from 1968 thru 1996. How about Pee Wee Herman, aka actor Paul Reubens whose Pee Wee’s Playhouse was shut down after he was arrested for an alleged minor public transgression purportedly involving his genitals and a dark movie house. He’s currently on the comeback trail. Of course we remember washed up actors Ronald Reagan and Arnold Schwarzenegger who both went on to become governors, one of them all the way to the Presidency thanks to the OPEC oil embargo, the Iranian hostage crises and a killer rabbit. Throw in Cliven Bundy, the crazy anti-government welfare rancher or Kanye West the narcissistic hiphop rappa-ego-maniacal self-proclaimed genius and world-savior. What’s the point of mentioning these doofus goofs? Donald Trump. I wouldn’t be more shocked, surprised and perplexed if any of these…Pat (gods rest his squirrelly soul) Pee Wee, Cliven, Arnold or Kanye were on track to actually, truly, really, holy-shit-gawds-save-us, become the Republican nominee for President than I am that a racist, misogonist, (fill-in the operative pejorative) New York City billionaire real estate con man might actually become President of the U. S. of A. (When Reagan was elected President I had to drag myself to a window the morning (in America) after the election to see if the sun would actually appear…to my dismay and shock, it did). 
Current analysis has it that Trump’s emergence is the simple result of the buzzards coming home to feast on the carrion of the 1960s-born Republican “Southern Strategy” roadkill. That SS emerged from the traditional Democrat south and American white suburban resentment of the Civil Rights and voting rights acts, demise of Jim Crow politics all encouraged by “dog whistle ” coded language used so effectively by Reagan, et al…states rights, welfare queens, busing and later the cultural issue weapons of GGGG — God, Guns, Grizzlies & Gays.  The once Democrat racist south transgendered and traded places with the anti-segregationist republican “party of Lincoln.” 
Although accurate, this analysis is incomplete. With the election of Obama in 2008 we were supposedly on the brink of a post-racial era, one in which America finally came to grips with its racist past and began to accept and embrace its destiny as a multi-cultural multiracial nation with equal rights and opportunities for all. We certainly pulled back from that brink, didn’t we. Way back. But now Trump’s emergence as the de-facto leader of the Republican Party begs further analysis, as Trump himself might say, “until we can figure out what’s going on here.” So what is going on here? His identification and exploitation of the Angry Man keys his success. Who are these Angry folks? Sure, some are the defeated diehard leftovers of the Sixties cultural wars. But on reflection Trump, and Bernie Sanders to a similar degree, seem to have tapped into a fracked-up vein of noxious volatile gas festering just below the surface bubbling up to an unaccommodating landscape of gigs instead of real jobs, unindustrialized service economies, jobs outsourced to foreign labor markets, outdated skill sets, down-sized efficiency-ized  work forces
Uberized, Amazoned and App’ed. 
Of course Trump doesn’t really understand these forces, he just blunders and thunders into the space created by them. Like the old P-Funk lyric “huffin’ and puffin’ you ain’t doin’ nuthin’,” Trump is good at thrusting and hustling but short-fingered on delivering any satisfactory solutions. Instead of answers Trump responds with brags. “Believe me, America will be the greatest because I’m the biggest, the best, the richest, my wife the most beautiful, my steaks the tastiest, my books the best best sellers, my clothes the most stylish, my shoes the shiniest, my hair the orangiest, my teeth the whitiest, my tan the tanniest, my hotels the swankiest, my kids the smartiest, my awesomeness the most awesomiest, my torturing will be the most beautifully painful, my wall the highest, my name-calling the most horribliest, my insults the most egregious…(looking at you, Pope Francis & Mother Theresa…) my Blacks, Hispanics and Muslims love me more than their children….” The more egregious the lies and brags the more people believe, or at least ignore them. 
How could this happen in America? I just don’t get it. Really, just what is going on here, anyway? 
I tried to generate a world class, best ever  anagram for the best name in the world, Donald Trump. My favorites: Damn turd pol. Damp old runt.

My First Hero…

He was my first hero. As a high school kid, I listened on radio, like in the old days, (hell, it was the old days!) to his first fight for the championship in 1964. Why I was in his corner then I don’t know. Something about his story I’d heard and read about, his name Cassius Marcellus Clay, his fearless facing of the older and stronger Sonny, “The Bear” Liston.  I was already a boxing fan, somehow intrigued and fascinated by the Floyd Patterson and  Ingemar Johansson fights several years earlier. Boxing wasn’t a team sport. I grew up without a team sport affiliation, either high school or professional. I didn’t play sports; the only guy in my tiny high school who didn’t play on the only two sports offered: basketball and football. I was anti-sports and my refusal (some might say inability) to play gave me that much-needed, although negative, identity sought in high school. But in boxing I saw the little guy, the outsider, the bullied facing the bully. Muhammad Ali filled that role for me. Disdained by the experts and pilloried by the media, Ali drew strength from his opponents, weakening them. His refusal to serve in an unjust war — the bully military vs the bullied cannon-fodder conscripts –his embrace of a culture that opposed the rules of white America, his non-conformity…unwilling to play the sportsmanship game angered the social, political and sports establishment. Ali, a General in the cultural wars of the Sixties, like Martin Luther King, made America face its sins of racism and its weakness of inequality. Ali practiced and lived a life embedded in Islam, the kinder and wiser version of Islam that contradicts the hate-filled jihadi-swamp that the world now fears. At the height of his boxing career, banned from the sport, he took to the college lecture circuit professing civil disobedience, conscientious objection, condemning the Vietnam War, racism, and social injustice. He spoke at Ohio University while I was a student and I met him after his speech. His handshake swallowed my hand and his eyes reflected starlight. He was literally bigger than life. He created a large part of what the Sixties became. And in retiring from the ring Ali continued to live his life of courage, grace, wit and humor that highlighted his youth and defined his greatness. When he quit boxing he ended the sport. I never watched another match. Boxing was counted out and never rose off  the canvas, they one that Ali used to paint his masterpieces. He once wrote the world’s shortest poem.  “Me? Whee!!” Ali…my first & last hero. (Not for worry Dad…you’re in a singularly reserved category). 

Posted in Ali

America…I’m this Bud for You

 Update: Anheuser-Busch recently confirmed it will change the name of its Budweiser 12-oz. cans and bottles with the name “America” from May 23 through election season in November. 
This Bud/America’s for you. So starting today I’m changing my name to “AMERICA” too. You can call me America, or Lawrence America. I’ll respond to either name, as long as I hear the American part. My new label will run from now thru the day after the presidential election. If Trump wins, I’m then changing my label to Lawrence Canada, or just plain Canada. 

Feeding the Angry Man

Feeding the Angry Man

Political correctness has been the whipping-boy issue of the far-right wing for many years. No one touts aversion to PC behavior more than Donald Trump, in large part basing his presidential run on mocking all things politically correct. Expressing politically incorrect statements and views has become the defining standard of what I call the new Angry Man movement. (I use the term “man” because Trumping appeals more to men than women, although there are of course, though fewer, Angry Women too!)

This backlash against political correctness, although not new and has been percolating for years, has now erupted volcanically, given heat from the steaming bowels of Trump who belches more vitriol than an OxyContin-infused radio talk show host (talkin' bout you, Flush Phlegmball!)

But it's not all Donald's fault. Recently political correctness has been it own worst enemy. He's only taking advantage of some high profile examples of PC goofiness and unleashing festering grievances left over from the self-perceived left-behind.

Trump is the wind (bag) beneath the wings of the angry. Seething silent anger just below the surface of civility, these Angry Men have had to keep their feelings in check for decades, every day a lost day that brought them closer to inexorable defeat in the lingering culture war of the Sixties. Yes, the Sixties Culture War rages on in the shallow cranial recesses of the religious right, Nixon's old law & order hard hats, the “silent majority” and their “poorly-educated” progeny still offended by anti-Vietnam protests, “free love,” a casual embrace of drugs, and civil rights victories. (“I love the poorly educated,” Trump declared after his Nevada primary victory last February.)

Now comes Trump, loud and brash, like a constipated cow suddenly effluent from gorging in a field of rotting beans. Trump's emissions, sulfurically foul, are whiffs of lilac and roses to the noses of his Angries. Finally, someone who is not afraid to say out loud what they've been longing to say forever. Not just someone, but a someone who could hold the highest office in the land. A someone who could make the White House the white house again. (Well, maybe the gold-plated White House?) And his calling card? Attack political correctness. A task which liberals today sometimes aid and abet. From trigger warnings and safe space demands of sensitive babyfied college students to accusations of “cultural appropriation” by minorities, political correctness is fast becoming a favorite pick up line for the right wing. College students who demand a trigger warning that a reading assignment or lecture might contain something offensive to their sheltered little minds forget the reason they are in college in the first place…to expand their minds, be exposed to different ideas: to become educated. Is it really cultural appropriation when a white student is shamed by Black students for wearing dreadlocks? What about a Black student who bleaches her hair blond? (Note: I'm willing to be schooled on this issue from another point of view) Of course political correctness is not really “running amok” as so many pundits and columnists seem be declaring and warning. But egregious examples, amplified by media, social and traditional, feed into the meme/trope that we've gone too far, that we are too sensitive, need to lighten-up, quit worrying about offending everyone (except we whites in power) and just enjoy life. Yeah, make America great again, like before civil and voting rights, environmental regulations, Medicare, Social Security, child labor laws, food safety laws. Those were the days my friends…we thought they'd never end…

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I Want Self-Zippering Pants!

 I’ve waited all my miserable life for this. When I was a kid, my Dad said I’d have a flying car in my garage on Mars.  Never happened, Dad. (Thanks a lot, Obama!) 3-D TV? Sort of, but not really happening. Robot hoovers sucking up dust by dancing the roomba around the house? Boring. Self-cleaning ovens? Old school. Self-photo-taking? Yup, The Selfie fulfilled that dream. Self-driving cars? Oh, yeah! Almost there and just in time for aging Boomers who dread being on the pitiful end of “The Talk” when their kids explain that, no, Mom, you didn’t misplace your car keys..we’ve taken them and are prying your almost dead cold hands from around the steering wheel. Autonomous cars will allow Boomers to rule the road until the day they never die.

But when Nike recently announced its new Self-tying shoe I knew the future had finally arrived. It’s called “adaptive lacing.”  Press buttons on the side of the shoe and the laces automatically tighten or loosen to match your comfort level or mood: uptight, nervous, or afraid? Just press the tighten button. Feeling groovy, marinatingly mellow or banging? Just press the loose button. No muss no fuss. Only down side is you gotta bend down to press the mofcukin’ buttons! Com’on Nike, where’s the remote? Or app that’ll let me tight&loose by tapping on my Fitbit or Apple Watch. See, the Damn Future is always just around the Damn Corner.

So here I am, in the present here and now, mindful of the moment, which is very popular these days. But still waiting for, as Apple used to say, “The Next Big Thing” …until Trump settled that argument. So I guess until I get my Self-Zippering pants, I’m just a lonely guy on the Avenue of Ass-kicking Dreams with his fly stuck open…or shut. (Hmmmm…autonomous socks that roll up automatically?)

L.Rudmann (

Super Bowl: Over & Out

I’m so over Super Bowl commercials. And for that matter the Super Bowl itself, that national corporate sports orgy for the One Percent paid for by the tax-paying gullible proletariat who “like to watch” the gladiators while the rulers “play” from their skyboxes. Yes, a distraction from work, from ills, from the daily drone of life, The Super Bowl offers a temporary reprieve and escape. 
After only 50 years The Super Bowl has established itself as a bedrock symbol of our culture. We accept its ubiquitous residency in our lives, finely woven like a 1,000 thread-count flag blowing across the face our national psyche. From the opening mock patriotic military salutes, mawkish contestant renditions of a song celebrating bombs and war … Vegas odds on how long will Lady GaGa stretch out the last notes to break the record for longest public singing of this national anthem…military jets swooping like mad screaming birds of prey over the stadium; extravagant intermission displays of pop(ular) music…spectacles on par with anything produced by Chinese or North Korean governments. A synchronized national corporate effort to appeal to the masses, slake our thirst for violence with highly paid yet expendable surrogates, to inspire us to aspire, to consume, to eat more Cheetos. The athletic efforts on the field merely a pretense for the 30 sec commercial propaganda spots imploring us to spend our wages to enrich those wise men in their high skybox castles. 
And let’s dismiss with the conceit that at least these commercial productions represent high art, or are at a minimum creative, original, humorous or inspiring. Once upon a time Apple produced a commercial (“1984”) to introduce the MacIntosh computer. This was the first and last truly creative effort shown during a Super Bowl game. This commercial set the standard, propagated and set in motion the deluded cult of the Super Bowl Commercials. What we are subjected to now are watered-down attempts at humor often exploiting children and animals. This year one advertiser actually hit the sweet spot of commercial crassness with a creature comprised of a baby, a monkey and a dog. A puppy. Awwww..horses, awwww…guys acting the fool while wifey rolls her eyes and shows him how it’s really done. People dancing. If the proverbial aliens picked up signals of these commercials they would think that all humans do is dance. Well, we also get constipation, diarrhea and toenail fungus on the bungus.. but that’s another matter. 
Ah, Super Bowl, I am so over you. At least until next year when the half time show features our national Poet Laureate in a “Salute to American Poetry.” And of course the Chicago Bears beat the Oakland Raiders.  
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Cruz Conundrum

That women get judged on their looks and appearance more than men is a given. It’s not right to judge a person by one’s visceral reaction to appearance, demeanor and other subjectives such as voice, height, hair style, eyes and the  overall qualities that comprise what we generally consider as “looks.” I know it’s not right. Yet why do I have such a strong visceral (from “viscera”….intestines, bowels, gut; from instinct rather than intellect) negative reaction to Ted Cruz, the smarmy (totally subjective, sorry) candidate for the republican presidential nomination? His high-pitched voice perfects onomatopoeically the whine of a dentist drill with all its associated shudder and vagus-nerve inducing nausea and clammy coldness. His hunched shoulders and thrusting head produces a badgering mien threatening to cower his audience into submission. Behind a podium, he leans his skewed mis-aligned angley face downward doggedly in sarcastic towering arrogance belying his 5ft-7inch stature and with deft yet programmed hands gestures robotically in sync with sad disapproving basset hound-of-hell eyes casting damnation on all who fail to heed his admonitions. This is Ted Cruz. The slick pompadour hair harkens to a past era, a carnival barker, a Fuller Brush salesman? Under stage lights his skin reflects a pallid smeary corpse-like patina, waxen. 

The curled upper lip snarls and scolds disdainfully giving purchase to a poisonous pedantic piety from a Puritan pursed mouth proclaiming peevish punishment for all who disagree. 
And yet I question my intense reactions to Mr. Cruz’s physicalities. It’s not that he has, according to current standards of what constitutes beauty/attractiveness, an “ugly” countenance. But there is some intangible aggregate of his overall appearance and how he wears and utilizes these physical attributes that sends up warning signs. Empty this sack full of pain and fill it with the heart and soul of Bernie Sanders. How would I react?  Bernie has a rough and worn appearance that may cause cringing, weeping and gnashing of teeth in those who disagree with him. But it seems that beyond Cruz’s stated policies, his proclaimed beliefs, his political philosophy there lies something uncomfortable, dark and on the threshold of….evil? I know it’s not right to judge him on how he looks. But could this visage be a mirror of his soul or spirit, his very essence and intended purpose on earth? I don’t know. But what I do know is this person scares me. To the point where I have to admit that given a choice between Mr. Cruz and Donald Trump (please gods, spare us from such a choice) I would have to choose Trump. Cruz, I admit, is smart, very smart and probably the best diabolical debater among all candidates. He has a plan, and is executing it demonically. Be afraid. Very afraid, something tells me. 

2015 – A Year of Living Fearfully©

2015 – A Year of Living Fearfully©
We got it quick, 
We got it now
Here a click 
There a click
We got it how?
Here a pick there a pick
In the Amazon pits
Bot Boys & Gig Girls
Ubering this and 
Ubering that
Working harder than 
The Pizza Rat.
So buy me a beer
And quench my fear
an IPA with a wise-ass label
“Bangin’Your Sister” or “Murdering Mabel.”
If you’re socially able
Pour me that hoppy Alcohol tincture
An artesinal brew called “Clinching Sphincters.”
My fear is palpable
That my order calculable 
Isn’t Pay-Pal-able
Delivered prime by the ISISman cometh
Venomous sous la table
With Hillary in a Muslim Hijibber
Jihaddin’ the penis off Justine Bieber.
My fears were real
As John Boehner tears
As true as Caitlyn’s 
Not a male
And Canadian poutine 
Is the new kale.
Even my fears 
Were afraid and scared
Laid bare by Obamacare
To heal us with medical P.O.T.U.S.
Put on notice 
By The F.L.O.T.U.S.
That our health insurance wouldn’t be valid
Unless we ate all our Kardashian placenta salad.
Throughout the year anxiety riding
On a jittery third rail guiding
Us on a dangerous journey
Suicide crusading avengers
Vowed to see us 
On a gurney. 
Look to the left, to the right
Feel the panic
An error of terror
Islamic as well 
As Christianic.
Change was loosed
Upon the Land
Transgendered, rendered, re-assigned
Maligned for being 
But all was ducky and we got lucky
The Pope fell for a lady from Kentucky
Blessing her multiple-partner unions
Wagging the Papal Celibate digit Proclaiming illicit
Same-sex communions.
Disappointment was a fave
Jay-Z’s TIDAL never waved.
Apple Set A Watch, man
Few raved.
Harper Lee unwound her clock
Her second first novel failed to ticktock
As the mockingbird’s old man
Joined the klan
That many saw as problematicus
The most popular Republican baby name 
Now happens to be, yup… Little Atticus.
The Status Quo
Did not Grow
We still hatin’on drunkened Russians
Still lovin’ on football concussions 
Predictable as shoot-first cops
Or Taylor Swift in short crop-tops.
Madman Don the Dandy Draper
Taught the World to Sing Carnally (no predictable doggerel rhyme)
In perfect harmony
With Kendrick Lamarr-money
Pimpin’ that poor butterfly’s wings
Inside Amy Schumer’s randy pants
There’s ample room 
For Drake to dance.
Backs to the Wall
Fed raisin’ rates
Drug Lord Shkreli
Scored world berates
Courteously flushed 
But the room’s still smelly.
Transgendering took the runway spot
Estrogened and testosteroned
Accepted respected and now condoned
By all except the chromosomes.
Guns still have us in their sights 
Open carry in the bars 
And church
Trolled by NRA sycophants,
But in the morgue room 
Stands the elephant,
Minions of Murder 
Foul beasts lurch
And then they slouch
Toward Deathlahem.
ISIS, ISIL, Houthis, Shabbab
Promise to bury us
It’s their job
Is it fear or imaginary
Or are we already buried 
In our mobile screens
Our virtual cemetaries.
The local police dressed 
To be seen 
As combat-ready armed Marines
Drowned out voices 
With on-the-ground boots
The cries of hands-up-don’t-shoot
And cause to shatter
The Dream 
That Black Lives 
Really do matter.
Next Year 
Don’t let your ears fill with fears
Of Islamaphobic political Smears
Humpty Trumpty
Will have a great fall
From his “big & beautiful” Xenophobic wall
And surety like taxes and and like death
To misquote MacBeth
“All our yesterdays have (dim) lighted fools
The way to dusty death, Out, out, brief candle (of darkness)
(Your)Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more. 
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.”
So buy me a beer
And quench my fear
an IPA with a wise-ass label
“Bangin’ Your Sister” or “Murdering Mabel.”
If you’re socially able
Pour me that hoppy 
Alcohol tincture
An Artesinal brew 
Called “Clinching Sphincters.”
(P.S.. Jon Snow is really dead. Thanks a lot, Obama!)
Happiness not Fear in the 2016 New Year.

Pass the "No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act".


Enough is enough! 
Here’s what we need: 
Don’t control guns, ban them.
Presidential/Executive “Re-interpretation” of the Second Amendment concomitant with enactment by Congress or Presidential Fiat of the “No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act” also to be known as the “No Right to Own Guns Act.”
The manufacture, import and sale of firearms and ammunition for non-military in the U. S. and its territories will be banned. 
Phase One: A Federal ban on the civilian purchase of any firearm. This means hand guns, assault rifles, shotguns, hunting rifles, target/sport firearms. Also BB guns and similar varmint-hunting guns such as pellet guns, potato “spud” guns and all NERF-type projectile-emitting gun facsimiles. (BB/pellet and NERF-type guns are “gateway weapons” that lead to future desire/addiction to possess and use bullet-based firearms). Violation of the “No Gun Left Behind Act” is a zero tolerance, “one strike you are out” violation resulting In a minimum income-based fine of $20,000 and up. Inability or refusal  to pay the fine shall result in a minimum one year sentence to a firearm practice ranch for Federal Agents as a live target decoy. (Sentence commuted after one year if prisoner survives)
Phase Two: The President shall order all citizens to turn in to Federal Authorities any and all firearms they own or possess. Firearm owners complying will be compensated for the price that they paid for the firearm(s). Refusal to comply will result in fines and imprisonment. 
Phase Three: The National Guard, branches of the US military forces, Federal policing agents including the FBI, will conduct house-to-house inspections nationally for the purpose of confiscation of firearms. Non-compliance will result in imprisonment of head of household. 
Phase Four: local police will be required to “Stop & Frisk” suspected gun carriers at any time or place. Citizens will also be rewarded with cash bonuses for alerting police or Federal authorities to anyone who they suspect possessing a firearm. 
Hunters and firearm sport enthusiasts will be able to rent approved firearms from the federal government for limited use. Firearm renters shall have proper gun user insurance.  
Traditional firearm-based hunters who choose not to rent firearms will be provided with federal training in bow & arrow, knife and persistence hunting (stalking and chasing game on foot until animal is caught). 
Black market distribution of firearms will be controlled by Revenueurs a special elite strike force of Federal and civilian under- cover swat specialists. Funding for national firearm prohibition will be diverted from state, local and Federal drug enforcement since passage of the “Freedom to Purchase & Use Any Drug Act” Americans will be able to purchase and use any drug legally.
This should be considered only the first steps in freeing our country of the curse of firearms. Once these actions are enacted then America should really get serious about banning guns. 

What’s Left for Trump to Say?

He’s called Mexicans rapists, drug addicts and criminals, promises to build a “big, beautiful wall” around America to keep out undocumented migrants, blamed tough media questions on a reporter’s monthly period. He calls people he disagrees with fat, idiot, stupid, morons. Claims President Obama’s birth certificate is false. Says Ariana Huffington and Carly Fiorino are ugly. Said you can’t beat ISIS if you sweat too much and that if Hillary can’t satisfy her husband how is she going to satisfy America. He says global warming is a hoax. “Black guys counting my money! I hate it. The only kind of people I want counting my money are short guys that wear yarmulkes every day.”  “I have a great relationship with the blacks.” “I’ve said if Ivanka weren’t my daughter, perhaps I’d be dating her.” “You know, it doesn’t really matter what [the media] write as long as you’ve got a young and beautiful piece of ass.” “Often times when I was sleeping with one of the top women in the world, I would say to myself, thinking about me as a boy from Queens, “Can you believe what I am getting?” “Heidi Klum (supermodel). Sadly, she’s no longer a 10.” Oh, yes…Trump also says he absolutely saw TV footage of 1000s of Muslims in New Jersey celebrating on 9-11. And yep, recently Trump mocked a disabled New York Times reporter by imitating his body movements. Whew….I’m out of breath and energy digging up these Trumprageous comments. Let’s go to future tape. 

So. What’s left for Trump to say? Who and what hasn’t he railed against and insulted. Here are a few insults waiting in the hopper, predictions of what he still might say that will inexplicably increase his poll ratings. 
On The Pope. “Yeah, Francis, Frankie, he’s a fat old geezer. A real loser. Just look at that belly. Not even Rosie O’Donnell would get on her knees for him.”
Native Americans: “These so-called noble savages don’t even know how to run a casino like me…give’em a few shots of liquor and they’ll end up scalping themselves instead of their customers.”
Automobiles: “Basically just pieces of junk.. I don’t know why people buy them…the best mode of transportation is a limo and a private jet. And I’ve got the best private limos and jets at my disposal.” 
The late Mother Theresa: “She was an ugly skinny old hag. So over-rated, that one.. No one tends to the poor better than me..believe me…when I’m President the poor will be tended too so much they’ll get tired of it!! They’ll say “Stop it Mr. Trump, no more tending.. !” 
Refrigerators: what’s this all about anyway? Keeping food cold? I like my food hot and served to me in one of my 5-Star restaurants..I’ve got Mexicans, Filipinos, Orientals to cook it..who needs a refrigerator..or a stove! Losers and morons, that’s who! “
Smart phones: Believe me.. the iPhone and those Korean phonies are total losers…for the life of me I can’t figure out why people buy these things..I’ve got the best phone, a MeTrump phone..solid gold with diamond keys. Made exclusively for me by the best people.”
Milk: Never drink it! Never drink anything that comes out of a cow’s tit. Can you imagine? This cow’s laying around in its own dung eating weeds and stuff and this is what makes milk? I drink only the best milk…beautiful young virgin milk from world class virgins. And I know virgins.”
Apple Pie: who would eat that crap? I’ll tell you! Losers! Morons! I only eat the top shelf pie…Trumpie: made with the best stuff you ever tasted.. baked by the best people who know how to bake the best.. And believe me I know the best! 
Motherhood: you ever hear me talk about my mother? No! Motherhood is for idiots! Who needs’em! That’s all I’m gonna say on that subject… don’t get me started. 
Navy Seals: what’s up with that name anyway? A seal? Who wants to be a seal, flapping and honking on a chunk of ice all day long? These guys are so over-rated…all that training they need. So they shot Bin Laden? I like guys who didn’t shoot bin Laden…who maybe…you know…just bombs the crap outta the Osamas. I know how to bomb people. No one bombs better than me, trust me!” 
Yes, trust him sooner or later to say all the above, and worse. And rise in the polls. 
God Bless & Save America. 
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Each year we are treated to new album releases by assorted artists – popular and has-been – rendering their versions of Christmas and Holiday carols. One of my favorites is Bob Dylan‘s “Xmas in the Heart” in which he croons, gristles, groans and chews up holiday traditionals such as “O Come All Ye Faithful” and “Silent Night.” It’s quite a feat and for me at least a real Christmas treat. Another seasonal favo is “Just Say Noël,” which includes my special holiday favo by “Sonic Youth, “Santa Doesn’t Cop Out on Dope,” and “Millie Pulled a Pistol on Santa” by The Roots. “Jingle All the Way” by Crash Test Dummies is also a heart & hearth-warming collection of holiday  sentimentals. 
So this year I would love to see and hear some new offerings such as: 
Bill Maher’s “An Atheist’s Xmas” on which he sings “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen…gay marriage is finally legal.” And “While Shepherds Watched…Yeah they like to watch” would be on my iTunes Xmas playlist. 
Bill Clinton’sXmas with a Boner” including his just released hit song, “Joseph did not have sex with that Woman” and of course his saxophone rendition of “BlueXmas” would enlarge his legacy. 
Donald Trump’s “The Biggest Best & Hugest Xmas” featuring his holiday hit, “No One Does Xmas Better Than Me,” and “Trump Pumpa Trump Trumps the Little Immigrant Boy” and “Away.. (far far away from America,) In a Manger” could push him even higher in the polls. 
Bernie Sanders‘  “Have Yourself a Communal Little Socialist Xmas” featuring “Rudolph the Red Commie Reindeer” would be a favo of mine. 
Hillary’s Xmas Dishes album includes her never-before released and destined-to-become-a-seasonal classic, “Bill’s Nuts Roasting on an Open Fire” would be a family hit in my household. 
And speaking of open fire, the Chicago Police Department Xmas Choir gets us into the spirit of the season with the hauntingly  moving “Oh come on keep mum Rahm Emmanuel,” segueing to a celebratory “Silent Nights & Silent Days helps Good King Winsalot of elections.” 
Merry Xhristmas y’all. 
 Read more like this and not like this at my blog.

Of ISIS and Men

I suppose it’s natural to be somewhat unsettled and unsure of how to react beyond shock, horror and sadness about the recent terrorist/Islamic/ISIS/ISIL/Daesh attacks in Paris. Special interest organizations, public figures, politicians and media pundits wasted little time and very little serious thought before spouting bigoted and caustic invective in the name of defending America from the kind of carnage inflicted in Paris.  Political was-been Newt Gringrich lanced his poisonous pus-filled heart by tweeting that if Parisian concert victims had been armed they could have survived. I’m sure he’s already cashed his check from the NRA. From there it got worse. Donald Trump agitated anew to build that “big beautiful wall” and to register all Muslims in the U.S. (Maybe tattoo them, too, Donald?) and Jeb! Bush tried trumping Trump by saying only Christian refugees should be admitted. (ISIS terrorists in Mali yesterday made hostages recite lines from the Quran to prove they are Muslim.. sounds like they got that idea from Jeb!) And predictably Republican governors said no to new Syrian refugees in their states. Of course House Speaker Paul Ryan pushed thru a bill stopping any Syrian refugees from entering the U.S. And oh yes, leading Presidential candidate Ben Carson called Syrian widows and child refugees “rabid dogs.” Not even France displayed that kind of xenophobia announcing that despite the terrorist attacks it would still compassionately welcome 30,000 new Syrian refugees.

Paraphrasing a friend, Republican pussy-wingers are a million times more likely to be killed at a Walmart Black Friday stampede than killed by a Syrian refugee. (Another friend joked a solution to the ISIS crisis…just give them a country and then nukem. haha)

But, as they say, I digress. The agony is in the question that haunts the dark mental and spiritual halls of anyone who still has a flexible and well-toned brain opened to learning, admitting bias, able to cortically correct and see dimensionally rather than the multitudes of Americans with calcified hearts and minds whose first and only reaction is to act on animal instinct of bite first when threatened.

But even the rational thinking mind is challenged when confronted by a force so nihilistic and savage as the terrorist  Islamic fundamentalists armed with blind faith of revenge and retribution on those who do not share or who disrespect the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad. I hear the pleas of pundits, politicians, religious leaders, Muslims themselves, to avoid branding all Muslims as terrorists. Of course not all Muslims are terrorists. But here we have a virulent strain of the Islamic faith. Does the Quran (Koran) invoke and promote violence any more than the Bible? Obviously I’m not a Biblical nor Quranic scholar and can only reply on other experts for answers.
Here’s a little quiz. Which quote is from the Bible and which is from the Quran?

Now therefore, kill every male among the little ones, and kill every woman who has known man intimately. But all the girls who have not known man intimately, spare for yourselves. (Answer: Bible, Numbers 31:17-1 )

Fight and slay the Pagans wherever ye find them: seize them, beleaguer them, and lie in wait for them in every stratagem (of war).”  (Answer: Quran, 9:5)

You get the point.. Read more at Is Quran more violent than bible:

The difference seems to lie in the fact that Christianity focuses its faith more toward the New (kinder&Jesus-friendly) Testament whereas this death cult of ISIS seizes upon the approximately 100 violence-supported passages out of about 6,000 non violent passages of the Quran.

Let’s hope we don’t see an offshoot Christian militant group (CRISIS.. Christian Religion Is Slaying Islam Sinners?) inspired by Biblical excerpts such as :

Make ready to slaughter the infidel’s sons for the guilt of their fathers; Lest they rise and possess the earth, and fill the breadth of the world with tyrants. (Isaiah 14:21)
Then I heard God say to the other men, “Follow him through the city and kill everyone whose forehead is not marked. Show no mercy; have no pity! Kill them all – old and young, girls and women and little children.” (Ezekiel 9:5)

Both the Bible and the Quran contain exhortations to kill and maim. Although the death cult of ISIS seems to spread like a plague, is the cure really declarations of war, American boots on the ground, or building walls or creating Muslim refugee concentration camps? Or do such responses fulfill the objectives of ISIS death seekers and draw in more recruits? The more I think about all this the more I like to imagine John Lennon’s lyric, a world with no religion. And this from Robert Burns: “The best laid schemes of mice and men / Often go awry.”

Read more like this and not like this at my blog:

One woman and one Pope.. just how Jesus wanted it..

Will Pope Francis abdicate the Papal Throne to be with Kim Davis? Rumors, just rumors say Vatican spokespriests in response to rumored rumors that the Pope has succumbed to the fleshy fruits of Morehead KY county clerk and sex goddess Kim Davis. 

“Although I’m the Pope I’m still a man…who among men could resist the siren song of this Kim Davis?” Pope Francis supposedly whispered to an aide in an overheard unsubstantiated conversation on the Papal flight back to Rome. 
If true, this would be Mrs. Davis’ first seduction of a Roman Catholic Pope. “I’ve had lots of pastors, reverends and a deacon or two,” Mrs. Davis supposedly said, “but Lord Almighty I never imagined a real live Pope…hee haw and whoopie doo.” 
Mrs. Davis reportedly told reporters she and Francis were brought together by Jesus and Tinder. “I was just doing some plain old Tindering in the fields of the Lord and wouldn’t you know it up popped the Pope so I quick-as-a-lump-of-lard-on-a-pile-of-grits Swiped Right…and heavens to holy matrimony next thang I see on my Google Android phone is a match made in heaven…one woman and one Pope.. just how Jesus wanted it”, she might have added. 

Random Ejaculations: (n. an abrupt, exclamatory utterance)

Oxymoron of the year: Clean Diesel
At their secret meeting last week did Kim Davis bend over backwards to kiss Pope Frank’s “ring.”    
Hillary’s campaign for president is beginning to be like that giant flower people lined up to see.. You know the one.. The Titan arum…or corpse flower.. It takes years to bloom and then smells like a rotting corpse. The smell is aimed at attracting pollinators (contributors) that help it reproduce.

Bernie’s The One

“From each according to his ability, to each according to his need. ” ..slogan popularized by Karl Marx
“From each according to his whatever, to each according to his wants.”  …new American slogan. 
Bernie, we hardly know ye. Present tense, thank you Sir. You are the anti-Hillary. The anti-any Republican. In a beauty hair pageant with Donald Trump you would win the mane event while Donald would coiff up hair balls. In a debate with Jeb! Bush you’d excoriate his exclamation point to the point of pointlessness. You’d drink Hillary under & over her email server, surgically excise Ben Carson’s brainless Islamaphobia; pour a thicker Kwickee Mart slurpee than Bobby Jindal, stop more traffic than Chris Crispee, sell more used cars than Scott Walker, outgun god in a gravy bowl of Huckabee grits; out-liber-randy Rand Paul, drink more water than Marco Rubio; shout crazy shit louder than Ted Cruz; dress down Carly Fiorina better than Trump. Sell more $8,000 a gallon HP ink than Carly Fiorina. 
Yes, Bernie…you can beat down any of those Repooblikan clowns in a one-on-one or group MMA smack down. There’s only one problemo. Bernie. You won’t be elected President. Damnit Bernie, when Nixon ran against Hubert H. in 1968 I was so disgusted I wrote-in commie party Gus Hall on my absentee college ballot. Gus didn’t win. The New Nixon was The One and Hubert wasn’t Bobby Kennedy or Gene McCarthy. And now Bernie, it’s your turn to hoist the red leftist rag and wave it in the face of red-necked America. You say you are not a socialist. You say you are a Democratic Socialist, one who seeks reform, not Revolution, thru the Democratic process (not revolution). All good and true. (Damnit where’s the Revolution?) Except many Americans have no sense of subtlety, no defining ability to differentiate. It’s black or it’s white; Good or Bad; Socialist or Commie; Government bad -Corporations (capitalism) good. 
With your socialist name tag you won’t mix well in that national November cocktail election party. So that’s why I have a 10 Point Plan to make you more palatable, lovable and maybe even so votable you could become our next President. 
1. If you are accused of being a socialist say hell yes that you use social media a lot, like Facebook and Instagram. 
2. Trump up your hair. Add some color–rusty red would look good. Get coiffed. That wispy curly white stuff blowing nimbus-like around your crown looks old. Like grandpa old. 
3. Say some real crazy shit.. Quit talking about policies, leadership and the future. Just say things like…make America #1 again. Americans like the number 1. One is better than two, right? Unless it’s beer or a double cheezewizz bacon burger and fries. 
4. Get a kitten and a puppy…carry them around in a basket while campaigning. Name one Stars and the other Stripes. Encourage folks to take selfies with them. 
5. Talk about how you are going to get America to stop fighting each other like cats and dogs and to share the basket like Stars and Stripes. Adorable. 
6. Incorporate the word “adorable” in your speech as often as possible. 
7. Wear a very large flag pin at all times. 
8. Be the Lone Ranger. Talk about the past. The good old days. Arrive at campaign stops on a fiery steed, a cloud of dust and a faithful Hispanic companion, Jose. Return with us now, America, to those thrilling days of yesteryear to fight for law and order. 
9. Always carry a Bible in your pocket. And a copy of the Constitution. The two go together like a kitten and a puppy in a basket. 
10. Just be yourself. Or not. 

Can’t We All Just…kill each other.

We Need new divisive social issues to keep us divided. Now that the Supreme Court has settled gay marriage, transgendering is transparent, marihuana is mainstream and even issues like abortion, prayer in school, gun control, climate change — the old GGGG… god, guns, gays & grizzlies, are so last-decade. 

To feed the cultural war machine I suggest we reprise some select explosive issues from yesteryear. Here are my suggestions for some issues guaranteed to set us on edge and make us go at each other’s throats with mouth-slaughtering vehemence: 

Earth shoes vs. Birkenstocks
The minus-heel…earth shoes had thick soles in the front and thin heels. (Think reverse mullet) Wearing them was supposed to be like walking on the beach. I got married in a pair over my mother’s protestations. “I’ll be married & buried in my earth shoes,” I declared. The Earthshoe was marketed as a “wellness” shoe, wearing them physically challenged you. Birkenstocks were all about comfort. True hippies wore neither. Barefoot was de rigueur. Both brands are still sold. Birks are better known but Earths still walk the land.  Have a fit. 
Quiche… Do real men eat it? Who knew what “quiche” really meant back in the 70’s, but whatever it was prompted much discussion with men and women arguing for and against. Hint: Hot dish for women. 
God is Dead… Or not? The now famous and then infamous 1966 Time Magazine cover posited Friedrich Nietzsche’s “God is Dead” postulate exploring the role of God in an increasingly secular society.  Social media then was limited to church pulpits and bar rooms. Nasty times. 
Television: A Wasteland? Although now we’re supposedly in the “golden age” of TV in 1961 a big divisive debate was ignited by FCC Commissioner Newton Minnow who in a speech to TV executives referred to TV as a “vast wasteland” in need of reform, namely more public service programming. People chose sides. Duck. 
Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) First introduced in the 1920s, this proposed constitutional amendment was a polarizing issue in the 1970’s and early 80’s among feminists, liberals and conservatives. Conservative anti-feminist activist Phyllis Schlafly successfully campaigned against it warning that passage would mean the end of alimony, create unisex bathrooms and cause women to be drafted and throw away their bras. Good Times for Demagogues. 
Vietnam…. in it to win it? This unwinnable excursion into another country’s civil war was the launchpad for the cultural wars still raging today. No lessons learned here. 
Is Twiggy too thin? Skinny British model Twiggy, creator of the androgynous modeling look was the hot topic of debate in the mid-Sixties. Too thin? Too flat-chested, hair too short, boy-like. Ah, Twiggy… We need you now to twerk and kiss Miley Cyrus. 
Communism – the Red Threat. Those godless pinkos wanted to bury us in the 1950-60 Cold War days. Now it’s those god-loving theocratic terrorists ISIS we are trying to make WASWAS. McCarthyism made you suspect your neighbor of plotting to turn your backyard patio into a people’s garden. Be Afraid. 
Disco, hippies, yuppies….all these and others sparked feuds, controversy and contentiousness. Let’s take a break from the GGGGs and have some real fun. 

VompuSucus photo…Michigan Beast!

In flagrante delicto… At last caught in the act… The elusive Michigan VompuSucus (Latin: sphincterclinchtus horriblis). I photographed this rarest of beasts up against a hillside hemlock tree at my Michigan cottage on a recent early morning. Only a few sightings of this beast have ever been witnessed. Native American legend says the VompuSucus has few if any predators and is known as the sworn enemy of the wolverine. It has been known to creep through dune grass at night and work its way silently thru spreading myrtle to pounce on unsuspecting victims. When not feasting on the internal organs of its victims “Vompy” will chow down on hosta  plants.

Posted in tru

On Day One….first day in office..

On Day One….first day in office.. 

What WILL they do…..

A common meme among Presidential  aspirants is to announce to prospective supporters the number one thing he or she will do on DAY ONE, immediately following the last utterance of the last syllable of the oath of office.  “….so help me goddd….and now I now proclaim that all children over the age of 5 be indentured to serve out their childhood fulfilling Prime Now orders in Amazon warehouses across this great nation… Oh, and yeah, I just killed Obamacare.”

Telling voters what you will do on Day One if elected to sleep in the White House is an act of extreme pandering that has become almost a campaign obligation like appearing in rolled-up shirtsleeves standing on a bale of hay in mega church singing gawd bless America. So to supplement the already Day One promises I suggest the following for the current crop of clown candidates. 

Donald “The Rumpus” Trumpus: his first day is already full with building that 1,954 mile-long wall between the U.S. and Mexico. But what Trump and his supporters (Trumportors) are really looking forward to on Day One will be the issuance of his one-to-ten rankings list of supermodels. His recent preview ranking of Heidi Klum as less than a “10” …. was just what the nation needed during our summer of discontent. 

Scott “Recall” Walker: On Scott’s big Day One he will issue himself a college degree. Honorary of course, but better than nothing. 

Ted (Count Chocula) Cruz: Day One will also be the Last Day as he will announce the official shutting down of the U. S. Government. 

Rand “Curly” Paul: That curly mop will see not another day as Prez Paul gets a Brazilian Blowout hair-straightening treatment on Day One.  

Marco “Thirsty Boy” Rubio: Republicans like walls. On Day One El Presidente Rubio better get constructing a wall around Miami to keep the rising “non-human-induced non-climate change” sea levels from washing Florida away. 

Lindsey “Sweetheart” Graham:  On Day One Prezzy Lindsey promises to reveal who he has met on the dating site “CongressWithMe” to join him as his FLOTUS. 

Rick “Oops” Perry: Prez Perry is looking forward thru his new genius glasses to finally on Day One …..”doing sumthang…uh, uh, open up a can of oop ass?”

Jeb “Mama’s Boy” Bush: Day One of his return of the Dynasty to the Throne, Jebsonofabush will stick the head of Saadam Hussain on the White House fence. Saadam’s head has been lovingly cared for by Dick Cheney in his Wyoming bunker since his execution in 2003.  “This one’s for you Mommy,” Jeb’ll say. 

Mike “Fat Again” Huckabee:  And on The First Day, President Huckabee, author of his biblical best seller “God, Guns, Grits & Gravy will conjur the wrath of God, the death of Guns, the whiteness of Grits and the grease of Gravy to require all Demon-crats to pack open-carry heat and dine at Cracker Barrel, Chick fil’A , Pizza Hut and Waffle House. 

Rick “Man-on-Dog” Santorum: Like Mike the Huckabee, President Santorum.. Can’t say that word…(yuckyphew!) awww crap, forget it..

Bobby “Apu” Jindal: first India-heritage President Jindal’s Day One proclamation will require all Kwicky Marts to serve Cajun-style slur-pees. 

Carly “InkJet” Fiorina: The first U.S. trans-gender woman President, Prez Fiorina issues a blanket pardon on Day One to all manufacturers of ink jet printers for the crime of charging customers $8,000 per gallon ($32/half ounce) for ink refills. In a sign of bipartisanship she also rescinds her campaign promise to run the U.S. government like she did Hewlet Packard.  

John “Semi-Normal Republican” Kasich and George “My middle name really IS Elmer” Pataki: Fantasy President Kasich and Fantasy Vice Principal Pataki’s Day One fantasy promise to go to Disney World will be a fantasy fulfilled. They will be joined by the remaining fantasy Republican candidates:
Jim Gilmore
James C.  Mitchell
Michael Bickelmeyer 
K. Ross Newland
Skip Anderson
Jack Fellure 
George Bailey 
John Dumment 
Dale Christiansen 
Jefferson Sherman 
Michael Petyo 
Andy Martin
Brooks Cullison 
Brian Russell 
Shawna Sterling
Bartholomew Lower 
Chris Hill
Mark Everson 
Esteban Oliverez 
Jim Hayden 
Kerry Bowers
Ben Carson 
Eric Cavanagh 

Hillary “The Rodham” Clinton: What a Day One! Been waiting for this one a long time. Ahhhh.  Saporem Diem. Savor the Day. Guess what Bill? You been served. D. I. V. O. R. C. E. 

Bernie “Burn Baby Burn” Sanders: President Bernie, incendiary socialist, will wait until May 1st, May Day, to declare Day One when he’ll Bernie y’all rich white mofcukas asses down. 


Dead "FareThee Well" Last Concert Inspires Them to Keep on Truckin’…new Concert Dates Announced !

Dead “FareThee Well” Last Concert Inspires Them to Keep on Truckin’…new Concert Dates Announced !

On the heels of a blockbuster last tour and and final performance in Chicago this past weekend, the Grateful Dead Band, Inc.  announced today a worldwide tour of every nation on the globe. Newly installed “Dead” lead singer and guitarist Chad Kroeger, who recently left his band Nickleback, said that the Dead’s international fan base deserved another chance to experience the wonderment of expensive ticketry and musical nirvana at least one more final time. 
“The Grateful Dead brand represents the ultimate commercialization of Baby Boomer  values,” said Kroeger.  “And we certainly want to cash in on that,” he said. The former Nickleback band leader and cult rock idol says he want to his new band in new directions. “We’ll be re-constituting and re-purposing a lot of my old Nickleback greatest hits, slowing them down with a layer of chill, lethargy and insouciance particular to The Dead,” he explained. “It’s gonna be kind of sweet & sour…a umami kinda thing, with long stretches of blissful Dead-like drums hums and numbs, Kroeger said.  “Both Nickleback and Dead fans are gonna crush it large for this product, I mean experience.” 

The Night They Burned Old Dixie Down

Ban it & Burn It. 

Spurn it & Burn it
Flag it & Rag It. 
Flag it & Bag It. 
As even Supreme Court inJustice Scalia would probably agree, you have a right, like him, to be an asshole. Yes, take the Confederate flag down from government sites..after all it’s a symbol of a treasonous insurrection against the U.S. government. But ban it? We don’t ban ideas nor representations of ideas…symbols…the flag of the treasonous who wanted to overthrow the government in order to keep their human slaves. If you want to buy a confederate flag made in China then by gods buy one for your man cave or a flag bumper sticker for your pickup. This is America, right? The country of free expression, life, liberty and pursuit of happiness (and assholeness) that supporters of that flag wanted to overthrow and sacrifice to so they could keep people in slavery. But don’t over-react like Apple by removing pictures of it from video games and computer apps. What would a Cracker Barrel restaurant be without confederate flags and refrigerator magnets? Or little red and blue stripes of iron-on cloth for confederate flag DIYers at Hobby Lobby? Does Chick-fil-a sell them? Did Amazon, Sears, Walmart and eBay decide to ban the sale of the pro-slave flags for any reason other than negative PR and the effect on profits?  Probably not. Good riddance from public government institutions, yes. Purge it and ban its sale, no. Besides, we know what banning something does…Amazon reported flag sales increased up to 2,000% just prior to its decision to pull flag merchandise. (Of course we don’t know what that means in real numbers) It’s likely that if a scientific poll could measure it more than 25% of Americans are genuine (as opposed to just fake) assholes. (I just pulled that number from guess where) So let’em buy it if so inclined. Maybe they will buy the flags to remind themselves of the shame of Confederacy. Maybe. 

My re-Assignment

Bruce did it. So did Rachel. Bruce is now Caitlyn. Rachel Dolezal turned from White to Black. These two high profile publicly debated cases compel and inspire me to finally come clean, or green, as many correctly assume. Yes, I’m ready to come out. 
Yes, I have undergone a reassignment.
Not gender. Not race. Not sexual orientation. Not even from bloody carnivore to shadowless vegan. Ever since my arrival onto this 6,000 year-old earth from my mother ship I have deeply felt that the tactile-visual interface assigned to me at my creation, a human endoskeleton covered with a human exoskeleton, was wrong. So wrong. So today I’ve got to do it. It’s going to be tough. I’ve been thinking about this day forever and what I should do with my life. How do I tell my story? How do I tell people what I’ve been through, and that day is today. I don’t need tissues — because we don’t cry. It’s gonna be kinda tough but today’s the day.  
Am I a Corporation? Yes. Am I a Uranian Corporation? Yes, for all intents and purposes, I am a corporation from the Republic of Uranus. Mitt Rommey only said half of it…that corporations are people… Well, Mitt, they can be Uranians, too. I guess that makes me a Corporate Uranus Republican (CUR). I’ve always been confused with my galactic identity. During those early post-creation ages I engaged in cross dressing…often shedding my human neonatal wrappings and transporting my natural human state throughout my Assimilation Dwell Pod (home) with free abandon wearing only suspenders and Top Hat.  My progenitor elements, Mum & Pop, ignored my nearly naked attempts to connect with my true Corporate Uranus Republican identity. So did my pre-me human sibling Rita as well as subsequent post-me human element sib-whelpings Stephen, Joan, Christopher, Molly, Isadore, Cantwell and Mucky. Every day was a cry (not literally since we don’t) for help. Since neonatehood I have always felt special; like a semi-colon in a long connective rambling sentence. Difficult to potty train, I believed early on that simple trickle down was the best for those under me. I had to suppress my core CUR beliefs that as it is practiced in my homeland Uranus everyone should be armed to the teeth and tentacles at all times with mobile instruments of death and mayhem; (notice the semi-colon!) that the principles of freedom (well, not unfettered female body & health-decision freedom) and survival of the fittest should rule us instead of oppressive wealth-distributing governments. Yes, all my life I have definitely felt like a CUR, a Uranus maker and shaker…not a taker.  So today (stifled sniff) I announce to this world my galactic re-assignment shedding my human skin and transitioning to my true nature…a Corporate Uranian of the Republic of Uranus. Look for my upcoming reality show on The Fox News Channel. (Kleenex, godsdammit!) 

News Clothes..touchy, touchy, touchy….

“Google….announced a new partnership with Levi Strauss in which the companies would try to make interactive garments that would allow people to do things like send someone a text message by swiping their jacket cuff…conductive fabrics that can be weaved into everyday clothes…could register the users touch and transmit information elsewhere, like to a smartphone or tablet computer.”

Just got my new wardrobe box from Trunk Club today.  Inside are my new clothes chosen by myreal, qualified personal stylist, GiGi.  She has learned what I like, and she knows what looks good on me. As I open the Trunk box I feel a sense of anticipation mixed with confidence that my new clothes will fulfill my need not only to be clothed but to be digitally connected as well.
On top, a shirt. Packaged in rustic crinkled paper, like butcher block. Nice. Light green small checked, long-sleeved, cuffs already folded and rolled up two turns telling me it’s informal, casual wear. The Google Interactive GooFib fiber feels slightly stiff on the outside but unusually soft and pliant inside. I unbutton it and slip it on.  Perfect fit. I adjust the collar running my finger along the inside of the size label. My phone dings. There’s an ad for Shout stain removal and a coupon from my local grocer for smoked turkey necks. This shirt has a pocket. Don’t like shirt pockets. I stick my finger in the pocket and my phone dings again… an ad pops up for Wrigley chewing gum, the Montblanc MEISTERSTÜCK RED GOLD CLASSIQUE FOUNTAIN PEN for only $580 and Sir Ahmed’s Whole Wheat Pita Pockets. I smooth the front of the shirt along the lines of my pectorals and up pops a WebMD link on my phone to an article about gynecomastia or male breast enlargement caused by too much booze, weed or….crap, the dreaded LOW T.  Yup, that dings another ad for some kind of testosterone replacement gel and an email link to Big Breasted Women Eager to Please.  Even though the shirt sleeves are pre-rolled, I shoot my cuffs like they do in the movies to straighten them….maybe an extra roll-up would be nice…it’s summer after all.  I duck to the floor as a loud gunshot noise explodes from my phone. Whew, Just a solicitation to join the National Rifle Association and Fandango and Amazon ads for the movie and books of Fifty Shades of Grey.
GiGi also picked out a new pair of socks. Size 10-12.  I’m sure they fit. Feels like a light cotton- synthetic blend and as I pull one over my bare foot my phone vibrates a text offering 25 cents off a can of Dr. Scholl’s Odor-X spray foot powder and a two-for-one deal on toenail fungus paste. [1] 
What else is in my Trunk? GiGi, my real, qualified personalstylist who has learned what I like and knows what looks good on me has selected a light tan pair of chinos. Waist 34, length 30. No cuffs, and please no pleats. No normcore or dad bod here. I drop trou & step into these new pants. Perfect fit! Lookin’ good dude, I dude myself. Whoops, the zipper just got stuck. Just zip it down slowly and start over. Wangggg Wangggg Wangggg my phone alarms…who’s calling me now…I slide open the phone to see a porn video in full streaming and steaming flagrante delicto.
How do the chinos look in the seat? Not too tight, not baggy.. That’s the look I’m looking for and as I smooth out a folded crease along my pants seat my phone rings. Her voice is throaty and craven…”Hello big boy..this is Raven at BootyCall911…I bet you look great in those new chinos….”


My Speech to 2015 College Grads

My Speech to 2015 College Grads

Graduation speech time has arrived again on schedule as certain as a Fox News blonde includes Barrack Obama’s middle name when listing one of the 6,039 (and counting) ways the President has destroyed America. 
Famous Speechers…POTUS and FLOTUS, writers of prose & poetry and bloggerty and hashtaggerty, corporate makers and shakers of the takers, to the famous, (famous for being famous)…and electronic thespians analog and digital, people elected by people to serve the interests of the people and Teabaggers elected by the corporations to serve the interest of the corporations. The Appointed, the Anointed; the hedge-funded, the digerati disrupters and StartMe-Uppers…all with advice for the ages…18-24…the college grads capped and gowned heads pounding from their last night in academia and beer pongia.  And their advice? Follow your passion. Use your privileged education to better the world. Don’t take the easy path. And wear sunscreen of course. Motion picture actor and director Robert DeNiro recently told New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts — graduates “You made it. And, you’re fcuked.” Did he mean good luck paying off four years of college debt? Landing a job for those with a degree in history of alternative desert nomad cultures or mystical Renaissance religious cults… Or was he simply paying literal tribute to four years of the best/most sex those students will ever have? What ever he meant, his words barely registered a trickle of giggles and head-nodding wake-ups from the soon to be launched and credentialed graduates. They’ve heard it all before. Some of them from pre-school, kindergarten, junior high and high school graduation ceremonies. 

Here are excerpts from one they might not have heard:
Good Afternoon Graduates! Wake up goddamit! Here..chew & swallow these..quickly (flinging out over the crowd of listless grads handfuls of vicodins..) gottem swallowed? Ok, listen up. And listen too! “I HAVE ABANDONED MY SON..THERE WILL BE BLOOD. favo movie..ok, pills working yet? Graduates! Today you stand here…sit here…with great expectations, dreams and stomachs that feel like the Koch brothers are fraking up your ass. Dream on little expectorants…what you have achieved these past four years is highly esteemed by Dalitesh, who shovels out cesspools by hand in a northern India city. Your long hours of cramming for exams, writing Internet derivative essays and learning how to form political & social alliances on campus was highly admired by 18 year old Fatu in Sierra Leone who convulsively bled to death from Ebola last year. Oh, and yes, your management of social networks, your skilled hashtag activism really made a difference to Myung Seok and her family imprisioned in a North Korean labor camp for the past four years. Your struggles to expose the rape culture, (about time!) on this campus and others is especially appreciated by Kanleakhana, a 10 year old sex slave girl in Bangkok. Yes, these past four years have changed you in many ways. You’re certifiably educated now. Stop dreaming. Throw your passion in the pits, get a job, thank your parents or someone. Don’t be a dick.  Those pills working yet? Feeling better?



Headed to Coachella or Lollapalooza…? Or maybe a Parisian visit to the Louvre or the great museums of Europe? Well leave Le Selfie Stick at home because more and more institutions and venues have banned the “mon bâton d’égoportrait” from public appearances. That’s why for a limited time only you can subscribe to a unique and personal service that obviates the need for that clumsy unwieldy instrument of vanity enhancement.    

With SelfieValet© you will have at your disposal the ultimate selfie stick: ME. Yes, if you act now, you can have me, SelfieValet, accompany you and your family, loved one or friends on your next vacation or travels. Yes, as SelfieValet I will be responsible for all of your precious selfies, selfieing you and friends or family in crazy-laughing “look-at-me” photos that will be the envy of all your Facebook friends. Leverage that cleavage and don’t let that big booty or set of chiseled abs go unnoticed and unshared. Now you can share yourself in all of your glorious vainglory in front of those Wonders of the World…what could be better than a goofy gaping-mouthed eyeball-bulging photo of You with the Taj Mahal or Sistine Chapel in the background. And just think about it… no more sore shoulders or cramped arms from stretching that cell phone-holding arm aloft… No more dragging that clumsy selfie stick — now so sadly banned in many places.  With SelfieValet every rapturous moment of your self-absorbed vacation life can be captured and shared with all of your boring friends who spend their lives at home in front of screens wishing they were you. Yes, for a limited time only SelfieValet is available for just pennies and dollars a day. Basic SelfieValet services require First Class airfare or Limo transportation for me to your venue or vacation site, accommodations (for me) at hotel or site near you, food and drink expenses and union-mandated rest breaks (for me)  required. SelfieValet Premium Service Plans also available. Don’t delay! Your online social cred is on the line…SelfieValet: it’s you…by me. Stickit2urself with SelfieValet.

Apple Solves "battery-life" issue of Apple Watch

Apple solves battery life issue for upcoming Apple Watch release!  According to Apple Design Maestro Sir Jony Ive, “…the solution was watching us all along…just waiting for the right moment when the ethereal blankness of imaginative whiteness fell into synchronicity with the mundane yet everyday tasks of human activity. And then it was that we knew what we so truly were looking for…and oh so more importantly the very Thing we were actually looking At. And At that moment we felt totally plugged-in to the Answer. An electric cord.. So elegant yet simple…a design that evolves from our very post-modern DNA. Flexible, ubiquitous, so familiar and, lest I strike a note of the prosaic and the banal, so “handy.” No batteries to charge. Just plug-in and feel the empowerment, the classic sense of immediate dignity. The Apple Watch: every one a “limited edition.”  

2014 – Hoarding & Lording and Baring & Sharing

2014 – Hoarding & Lording and Baring & Sharing

Hoarders and Lorders
First Class boarders
Fast-lane one-percenters
Kept passing
And amassing
While the 99
Settled-in Pharelly Happy
And Sappy
By baring and sharing
Selfies and songs
Not about Wall Streeter wrongs
Or big bankers the wankers
Who sank the middle classes
Instead just laid down like lambs
And Instagramed
Our Big Asses.

The Year in Review
More déjà vu
Back to Iraq
The Taliban captures
Our Afghan Army Hound
To the past we’re bound
No Boots on the Ground
Just drone it in
Death from Abuzz
Make ISIS Was Was.

The Foxes roided
Economic good news they voided
This the Year of Fear
Sourced our ills
To the reign
Of Barack Hussein
Who can’t-say-nope
To those drug mule kids
We be hatin’
On our border violatin’
With calves the size of cantaloupes.

That’s not all
Sarah Palin saw
Our African Prince
Had just the tonic
He imported the deadly virus

In the never ending battle 
For Obamafear
That Obamakill would drown us 
In medical bills
Ebola dropped handshakes and fist bumps down to our heels
We right-wringed a dried-out federal budget deal
Cut disease research cause we’d rather be dead
And pour buckets of ice water on our heads instead.

The Foxes saw
With fear
And malice
From afar
Obama disappear
That Malaysian airliner
The Executive Action Immigration signer
Tea baggers soon regretted their
Putin Piner shouts of “real leader”
As his ruble roiled
In a glut of US oil
He’s now boiled borsht with cold chopped liver
While Obama sings “Crimea River.”

Obama’s sins
On him The Foxes pinned
He hacked J-Law’s nudie selfies
Sold ’em to Boku Harem themselfies
Wrote the lyrics to “It’s All About the Bass.”
Uncoupled unconscious Gwyneth and Chris
Encouraged Michael Sam and his boyfriend’s kiss
Caught Michelle at midnight in the fridgerator
Cold cocked Janay and Jay-Z in elevators.
But the smoking gun, folks,
Was tokin’
A Commie Cuban Fat Cigar
In a ‘57 Chevy car.
A bridge way too far.

For some this year served as a lesson
The Pope said dogs might go to Heaven
“Who am I to judge,” he sounded zany
Easier he said, for a dog, than for Dick Cheney
For who’s reserved a special place in Hell
For rectal-de-hydration in an eternal cell.
Rick Perry hopes to be less “oops-ier”
In unGoogled horn-rimmed glass
He looks even more the ass
Running again with pants more poopier.

Others took a road less travelled
Bill Cosby came unravelled
Rejected as a driver for Uber
His face not funny smile less goofy
Delivering roofies
For a start-up called Luber.

For 2015 here’s some advice:
If you shot Bin Laden
That he’s dead will suffice.

If your name is Grover last name Norquist
Or even Casper the famous Milquetoast
Please don’t tweet that you drove a Hippie van
To the Black Rock desert and Burning Man.

Don’t get excited by the next Podcast Serial
I’ll give you a glimpse of the new material:
It’s not Adnan,
It’s not Jay,
It’s not Mr. S.,
It’s not boyfriend Dave.
The Serial killer is…you simp…
The Male Chimmmppp!…Chimp?

  (For those who missed
The Serial podcast referenced above…
A verse for you to leave or love.)

The Polar Ice Cap
May be melting
Like a face-lift of Renee Zellweger.
Climate change
If you say, “Hell, go figure!”
Then this year’s Super Bowl half time
You know it
Will feature America’s favorite Poets.

Happy New Year – 2015

Praajek’s Xmas Wish©

Praajek’s Xmas Wish©
Take the crist outa christmas
The holi outa day
Ban the wisemen in the courthouse
It’s the American way.
Take the ram outa Ramadan
The han outa Hanukkah
The dre outa dreidle
The t outa toy
The o outa oy
The j outa joy   
Take the jeez outa jesus
The bud outa Buddha
The krish outa Krishna
the chris outa Christ
the Yah outa Yahweh
the o outa o-my-gawd.
Take the fest outa festivus
The Kwa outa Kwaanzaa
Then take the sol outa Solstice
Make Santa sans San
Take the u outa Yule
And you’ll put the f  back in ool.
Do not ration 
These days of celebration:
string lights, make toasts
drink nog..add rum
take nothing outa nothing
and you’ll have a happy new year.

One of my List of 10 for 2014

My list of 10 most overused, phrases, language conventions & locutions of 2014. (English version). Ok, ’tis the season for this kind of thing so here’s my list:

#1: Worst. Conventions. Of. 2014. This. Convention. Intended. To. Impart. Serious. Emphasis. Must. Stop. Now
#2: Disruption. We don’t invent anymore. We disrupt. As in a  “startup” such as Uber disrupts the old taxi service business model; or Airbnb disrupting the hotel business. Ok, we get it. Now everything and everyone is “disrupting.” Whatever happened to “New and Improved?” Let’s disrupt disrupting. Or maybe just start inventing and re-inventing again. Please. 

#3: Adorable Especially when attributed to puppy and kitten videos. Along with variants such as “adorkable” when describing Zoey Deschanel and Aubrey Plaza. 
#4: Jaw dropping. Extremely surprised? Must everything that barely exceeds mediocre be announced with Taylor Swiftian open-mouthed astonishment. Let’s hit the pause on jaws. 
#5: How’s that working out for you? This one’s been hanging around for years now and shows no sign of weariness. Answer: It’s not working out for me. 
#6: Let’s do this thing. Why are we still hearing this decades-old locution? Leftovers from old Die Hard movies are still being served up in today’s violent video games of auto theft and warcraft. Let’s don’t do this thing anymore. 
#7: BenedictCumberbatch. Apparently some kind of famous something with weirdly beautiful eyes women want to blow. Anyway, let’s stop this Cumberbatching and start Cumberbitching. 
#8: She “rocks” a bikini; he “rocks” a tuxedo. Or, I would totally “rock” that jacket. Ok, to wear something and look totally cool in it, or make a major attitude statement by wearing it.. We get it. You would look pretty good in that car, coat, shoe etc. but I’m tired of rocking. Just wear the damn thing…or not. 
#9: Behead. Beheaded. Beheading.. Fortunately, this word did not become meme-y this year (maybe “meme” should be in this list.) But do media outlets have to blare the word “beheaded” whenever ISIS or whatever terror group kills a hostage? Isn’t it enough to just report that the victim was murdered? Why satisfy and reward these psychopaths by describing how they actually killed someone. Are we titillated by the concept of a human head being severed from its torso? Let’s kill this death description not only for its goryness but to deny terrorists their media glory. I’m relieved ISIS doesn’t have a wood chipper. 
#10: Lists. The top ten reasons people used to smoke in the bathroom in 1946. Five most wildly popular sex positions when Jesus walked the streets of Nazareth.  Fifteen reasons why the uncle is always described as drunk at Thanksgiving dinner. Top ten list of worst and overused words and phrases. Hmmmm.

That Perfect Gift.

‘Tis the season to give and get and get and give-give-give get-get-get. (I especially like the get.) And what’s on my wish-to-get list this year? And what’s on my might-just-give list? Here are some suggestions for you Xmas givers and getters.

My favo this season is “Subtle Butt Disposable Gas Neutralizers.”

These handy pocket pads full of activated charcoal stick strategically inside your underwear to absorb accidental methane expulsions. Doesn’t block noise but rumors abound that a software upgrade is in the works for downloading that includes a wind motion detector that activates an automatic white noise function. 

For that favorite teen on your list how about an exciting pack of Justin Bieber Mint Floss.
Low cost yet it shows you really care about dental hygiene with the added benefit of demonstrating your cool creds. “Gee Dad, I didn’t know you even knew about The Bieber…u so cool! ” 

A sure-fire gift that’s certain to win the heart of a close loved one is the 2015 Monthly Doos Dog Poop Calendar. Lovely scenes of American landscapes and national parks are festooned with subtle piles of uncollected doggy deposits. You actually have to look carefully at each scene to discover a “Where’s Waldo” not-so-hidden canine gift in each photo. Fun for the whole family.

In this new world of Faatha Land Security we are naturally attuned to and attracted to gifts that can be used in an emergency or terrorist attack. Go Paks, Shelter-in-Place survival items are always foremost in mind when channeling our inner-prepper. So this is why the Emergency Clown Nose in a prescription bottle is a welcome addition to any survivalist or prepper’s doomsday kit. The appearance of a bit of levity Is always welcomed for Armageddon. 

And who can forget a gift for that sports fan on your list?   (Well, me for one.) But for others I give you the Pot & Putt bathroom golf set. This unique putting green wraps around the floor of your porcelain vessel allowing you while athrone to practice sinking putts while you sink that big one. Although hardly an athletic endeavor, striking golf balls is certainly a purposeful (yet unnecessary) activity not unlike the very necessary function of intestinal vacation.

A few other gifts deserve mention as well: the Robotic Grill Cleaner, sort of a Roomba for that greasy BBQ grill works its way back and forth across that blackened burnt fat encrusted cooking surface. Especially handy if you are unfortunate enough to have no hands. If you have a hand or two then just sit back while robo cleaner saves you from having to use them in service to such drudgery. (Damn Butler’s Union won’t allow grill scraping.)

On the subject of grilling, my final gift suggestion is the singular Hamdogger. This nifty tubular device begs to be stuffed with ground beef and extruded onto the grill and readied for hotdog

bun insertion. No respectable paleo-gastronominist would be caught hungry without this.

Givegivegive…getgetget. The Spirit of Xmas lives in you. And your desires. To givegivegive and getgetget. 

I Shot Bin Laden, Damn’t

I Shot Bin Laden, Damn’t

I don’t want to do this but I finally must confess: I shot Bin Laden. Yup, it was lil’ ol’me who put two bullets right smack between his beady bearded eyes. I’m not supposed to tell anyone about this.. code of honor and all that. Hell, most folks, the ones I know like friends, relatives, kids, wife, dentist, doorman, personal shopper, hair stylist etc. thought I was too old to be a Navy SEAL, let alone a member of SEAL Team 6. But there I was on the night of May 2, 2011 landing inside Bin Laden’s compound, or what we hoped was his compound, and which turned out to actually be his compound. Our first chopper crashed but luckily I was on the second. Without giving away too many details I’ll just say that the climb up those back stairs in the dark seemed like the longest climb in my brief SEAL career. Up until now my lips have been SEALED..but it’s time for the truth to emerge before it is disclosed by other sources. And as others are already lining up to take credit for my heroic deed… one alleged SEAL has already written a book claiming he took the fatal shot while another poser came forth recently claiming he hit the bullseye. Well, you can soon read the unfiltered unvarnished, unpainted, bare neck’ed story from a first-person-shooter perspective in my soon-to-be-released book titled “I Shot The Terrorist But I Did Not Shoot His Deputy,” published by Hachette and available on Amazon. 

Gunshotbola Epidemic Spreads Across US

The first symptom is a sudden hot fever of impact accompanied by the sense of a loud sound or explosion.
Then comes the bleeding…sometimes from the eyes, ears, mouth and a sudden gaping hole in the head, torso, or limbs.
Vomiting may ensue….along with uncontrolled expelling of urine and feces with possibly horrible external and internal spilling of intestines and or other organs. 
Spasms followed by coughing of blood. And then death.
Or with luck and quick treatment in an emergency room only injury and temporary or permanent  disability will result.
Extremely contagious. Each year over 30,000 Americans die from it. The disease? Gunshotbola. 
Causes: widespread misinterpretation of the 2nd Amendment; human consumption of fruit bat NRA lobbyist meat and cross-species breeding of humans with simian non-human primate NRA  National Rifle Association leaders.
Gunshotbola is a member of the Gununntae virus, which is Latin for gun nut, a deadly pathogen reportedly carried by NRA members suspected of having eated fruit bat guano. 
For years, this deadly contagion has been confined to the United States. No other modern nation has experienced and tolerated outbreaks of Gunshotbola as this country does. How to protect yourself? Keep ducking. And support handgun control legislation in your state and community; and support organizations such as the Coalition to Stop Gun Violence.

At Least The Ebola Dog Is Safe

Thank gods the Texas dog of the young nurse Ebola victim who contracted the disease from the now-deceased Liberian Ebola patient will not be euthanized. Unlike the poor mutt in Spain, (the Canine in Spainine), who to the horror of humanity was dispatched to doggy heaven after it's owner contracted Ebola, the nurse's dog is being cared for in a private isolation hound pound. According to a Reuters news report, “The dog was given food and water on Sunday by a specialized hazardous materials team that decontaminated the Dallas apartment of the worker, reported by local media to be a nurse in her mid-20s. The team also left a light on in the apartment for the dog.”

Awwww… Is that not just an adorable gesture? Don't leave poor old possibly Ebola-infected Poochy alone AND in the dark. Leave a light on! And after health workers in hazmat suits spend valuable time monitoring dogs and pets when human and health resources are scarce, they will focus on attending to the ever-increasing swath of possibly infectious humans. In this dog (pet)-obsessed nation at least we can take heart that even if Ebola wipes out a good chunk of humanity, we'll sleep deeply in our bloody graves knowing our precious pets weren't in the dark.

The Bloody Wet Dreams of Dick Cheney

Someone tore the bumper sticker off my car that read: “I’m Already Against the Next War.” So here we go again. 
Dick Cheney, Rummy Rumsfeld and assorted NeoCon conspirators woke up recently refreshed, revitalized and rearing to have others go to war again. 
Ahhhh…feeling good, growls Cheney, the words dribbling from the edge of his crooked mouth, stretching his withered limbs and rubbing the sleepy fairy dirt from his rheumy eyes. His taxpayer funded transplanted heart, a secret gift from an anonymous donor who Cheney expresses no interest in knowing…“it hadn’t been a priority for me…” is now “my new heart, not someone else’s old heart.”  
Finally goaded by Cheney and The War Generals into new tough talk, NodramaObama lullabies Cheney to sweet dreams with his national TV address announcing his overdue “strateregy” (Bushism) of a New Belligerency. Although not as much fun without Boots-on-the-Ground, Rōnin Cheney deep sleeps REM dreams of salivating military contractors, greedy hyenas encircling wounded prey.
 Oh, the Humanity, the FoxHannity, the Insanity! Our heartless warrior mumbles in his sleep…my contractors, my contractors…let them feast first and leave the spoils for the Boots to shed blood and wipe up.  
His stolen heart beats faster now, exciting his feverish fear mongering brain into dream twitches of riches to be reaped, a legacy to be legitimized and gastric gushes of plain old evil to belch and enjoy. 


Republicans, neocons and Grumpy Grandpa (Git Off My Lawn) McCain are shouting for war against the invasion of America by knife-wielding ISIS Islamic warriors in jalabiya robes and turbans. By land, by sea, by air. (mmmm .. getting hungry for a Land Sea Air McDonald’s burger..Big Mac inserted with a filet ‘o fish and a chicken patty). This ISIS invasion is imminent and already underway with enemies hitting us at our most vulnerable and weakest joints: Facebook and YouTube. How do we repel this invasion of alien creatures bent on making us wear orange onesies while kneeling to them on prayer rugs eating falafel instead of Land Sea Air burgers? They’re coming for us so how do we stop them? 
The Nookular Option? No, too dangerous.. Might wipe out the world which is exactly what these ISIS guys want.
BOTG (boots in the ground)? Hmmm, sounds inviting. McCain’s already put his boots on ground in Vietnam and continues to want to give every American youth a similar life-affirming/depriving opportunity. Could be too expensive and might require a draft to fill this once/twice/thrice in a lifetime Boots opportunity. 
Airstrikes & Drones: ah, yes…”bomb bomb bomb, bomb-bomb Iran” McCain gleefully once sang in a cover of Beach Boys’ Barbara Ann. Easy death from above. Bombs in the Skies keep boots off the ground. Or blow off the boots and shoes of bad guys and innocent women and children. 
Coalition of the Willing…Remember that from the Bush Iraq clusterfcuk?  It soon was exposed as the Coalition of the Billing when it became you pay then we’ll play. This time NATO will coalesce to conquer. Better than us going it alone. 
Boots by Proxy: Now here’s an idea! As our largest recipient of military aid, over $100 billion since the 1960s and currently $3 billion annually, doesn’t our client Israel owe us something? Where’s the exalted Israeli Special Forces? Let them plan an attack to “degrade and destroy” ISIS making them WASWAS. 
Or better yet…quit letting fanatical terrorist groups goad us into war. It’s what they want… And unfortunately it’s what some here in the US want. Why does America always need an enemy to fight? More war, anyone?

My Nude Photos Hacked, Sacked, Jacked, Whacked and unpacked for the world to…

Don’t look now (seriously) but the biggest news story of the summer has just gotten bigger (worse). Not only have nudie pics of lady actors, tall thin ladies who model clothes, attractive celebrated females (femlebrities) such as Kate Upton, Jennifer Lawrence and a bunch of other cutie-nudie posers been hacked by a cloud hacker, now I discover that my own extensive and HUGE nudie selfie-portfolio has been violated by an unknown shoebox hacker. 
In a breach of privacy unknown in the Western and Eastern worlds and throughout my neighborhood, I discovered recently that my secret stash of nude selfies which I had cleverly stashed in the bottom of a gym bag under a pile of sweaty smelly socks and underwear, was scattered all over my smelly sweaty closet floor. Someone had been rummaging through my secret gym bag and unearthed my precious nudie selfies. Tossed hither and thither were 3×5″ Polaroids of me in various degrees of nudity: freezing my naked butt off building a snowman; running naked in a Naked Iron Man Triathlon thru the Mojave Desert; body-painted and birthday-suited in the Black Rock Nevada desert at Burning Man doing flaming cartwheels with fellow “Burner” Grover Norquist; romping full-frontal, fearless and feckless, at a Ruby-on-Rails after-seminar coding rave; swimming and diving bare-skinned and buck-nekked at an all nudie Mitch McConnell Blob Fish look-alike festival in Honey Dip Kentucky… All these and more…oh the privacy! 
Are some of them missing? Did the hackysacker photo them with his iPhone and now prepares to seed the clouds with them letting loose upon the land a global swarming of my hunkyjunk?  
Who pirated my privacy? I want to know! Was it you Apple? Or “Don’t Be Evil” Google? NSA or Edwin Snowden? Surely my humble closet and gym bag would present no challenge for the considerable hacking skills of this cowardly, traitorous, unAmerican Putin-boot-lickin’whistle-blower-with-no-country Rooskie-lovin’ former CIA-NSA employee. In a world where a guy has to live in fear that his nude selfies might be exposed to that world…in a world where one’s sacred gym bag is pried open letting loosed upon the world foul dirty sock emanations and nude selfies…is a world where the only thing left to do is….stop taking nudie selfies? Damn you cleaning lady, I know you did it !

Throwing Cold Water, Or Iced Is Even Better Than Cool

The ice bucket challenge has poured itself all over the internet as people and celebrities rush to dump a bucket of ice over their heads to increase awareness of ALS disease. This cold water treatment apparently causes one to suddenly google ALS and learn more about this dreaded disease and in more extreme cases results in a hand thrusting itself into a purse or wallet for a credit card to make a donation. But it only works if someone videos the act and posts it on a social media site. Don’t waste your time just dumping ice water on your head alone. This doesn’t work. You’ll just be cold and wet.

Here are some other challenges that people and celebrities can do to support research in lesser-known syndromes, afflictions, complaints, ailments or indispositions.  

  • Pour a bag of unbleached white flour over your head challenge… for gluten diet research.  
  • Drop your smart phone in the toilet challenge …for Selfieitis Research. 
  • Pee Your Pants Challenge for “That-Was-So-Funny I Nearly Peed-My-Pants” cliche malady.
  • Shave your head challenge for baldness research.
  • Drop Your Pants in Public Challenge for Perv Amelioration Research.
  • Stick your head in the gas oven challenge… for Facebook Envy Depression research.
  • Play Russian Roulette with a loaded hand gun challenge… for 2nd Amendment GunNut Syndrome research.
  • Finger in a Flame Challenge .. for  insensitivity/apathy research.
  • Twist two nipples counter-clockwise challenge .. for… aw hell….. just for research in general.
  • Teabag yourself … For Tea Party Affiliation Disease.
  • Take your mom’s car to jiffy lube …for Porno addiction research.
  • Vomit in a bucket & pour it over your head challenge… for binge drinking research.
  • Smash your face into a mirror challenge … for Narcissism research.
  • Poke yourself in the eye challenge …just because.

And don’t forget to video it and post it on You Tube or Facebook.  Oh, and send money.

Weapon of Cash Infusion

Looks like our puppet thug in Iraq, Nuri al-Maliki is backing off his threat to keep his job by military force after being replaced by a newly-appointed and US-blessed thug. Of course all it took was a little persuasion in the form of our strongest and most reliable tool and weapon of international diplomacy and nation building: Bags O’Cash.
This is just a wild guess at this point but we can assuredly look forward to reports similar to the ones last year that exposed the CIA’s bribes to our puppet thug Afghan President Hamid Karzai who eagerly awaited each month for his bags, suitcases and backpacks of US cash totaling by some estimates tens of millions of dollars. Perhaps this is the most cost-effective method of getting countries to do what we want. Considering that the Afghanistan and Iraqi wars have cost the US taxpayers between 4-6 trillion dollars, bribing despots, thugs and dictators to behave as we wish costs less than the money, blood and havoc we wreak upon our nation and the victim nations we choose to invade. Let’s take a nice chunk of that $640 billion we now spend on our military and create a truely cost-effective weapon that needs no testing, no competing for major manufacturing contracts, a stealthy weapon that flies under the radar, penetrates bunkers like a farm boy in a field of ripe melons, an infrared guided surface-to-wallet missile that strikes and satisfies the most despotic heart of greed: The Pentagon’s Bag O’ Cash. Oh, and delivered by drones.

Does Obama Want to Spread Deadly Ebonics Disease?

Sarah Palin Speaks What’s In Her Mind:  “Obama Wants to Spread Deadly Ebonics Disease.”

(Praajek is just back from an Alaskan sabbatical where he recently ran into former half-governor Sarah Palin in the Grizzly Paw tavern… Here are excerpts of his conversation with her.)

Well doggone it,  Praajek…let’s talk Obama. First he shoots down that Malaysian jet plane airliner, with all those good Christian and other faith persons (and right after he ordered his thugs to capture that CNN one and make it disappear from our good blue earth), then he makes a secret sweetheart deal with Putin to give him Crimea in exchange for what cry me a river? …lifting the import tariffs on loose fitting Rooskie Motherland Jeans? And then, thru back door diplomatic maneuvers he invites thousands of Central American drug lord cartel kids to run to our borders and sneak in the dark of the night across that river or sewer pipes left unguarded by Obama to register to vote Democrat. And remember last spring when that group Boko Haram kidnapped those 200 Nigerian schoolgirls? Boko Harem, of course is an anagram for “a mark hobo” which of course is an anagram for “a harm book” which must mean that Islamaistic bible. You can betcha that our so-called President orchesterated that devacle. And just the other day you just know he must have given the thumps-up for those Sharia-Iraqie icy guys to have their way with those Kurds trapped on a mountaintop somewhere. We don’t know why yet, but you can bet he’s got something up his sleeve besides that grabby liberal hand.  But now he’s really gone and done it by spreading a secretly-extracted vial of his dead father’s vile African blood and leaked it all over West Africa causing innocent people to get that Ebonics disease. His nefarious goal of course is to spread the disease throughout the US and have everyone speaking in Ebonics. Yup, our so-called Leader of the Free World has been rearin’ his head all over the world and just makin’ this God-blessed earth a lot less blessed and a lot more messed. 

Welfare Cash Cows Graze On The Government Dole

Welfare Cash Cows Graze On The Government Dole

A standoff near Bunkerville, Nevada recently pitted welfare-rancher Cliven Bundy and an armed mob of gun-totting wanna-be cowboy thugs against the Bureau of Land Mgt. Mr. Bundy, whose cows have fed at the Government trough for free since 1993, refuses to pay for his cows’ food via a grazing fee of a mere pittance of a $1.35 per cow per day. (non-government private-sector grazing costs are upwards of $20 per day)  His armed supporters are the same teabagger “cowboys” who want the “gummit” out of their Medicare. Welfare King Bundy now owes the Government more than $1 million in unpaid fees. In other words, he owes the American people, you and me. We are subsidizing this welfare deadbeat and his welfare-grazing cash cows. 

Here is Rancher Bundy riding an expensive four-shoed horse, probably driving an expensive Silverado truck and buying expensive prime cut steaks (and probably lobster, too). All on the Government’s dime. Or one hundred thousand dimes. Actual Food Stamp (SNAP) families have to feed themselves and their children on about $4 a day per family member. Bundy’s cows get an all-they-can-eat feast for $1.35 a day and refuse to even pay that amount. 

And that’s just the surface of the welfare trough from which he is skim-milking the American taxpayer. According to Welfare Ranching: The Subsidized Destruction of the American West,other subsidies include taxpayer-supported research at western land grant universities and agricultural exemptions that lower property taxes paid by ranchers. There are handouts to help with nearly every problem: drought relief, low-interest agricultural loans, emergency livestock feed programs, emergency grazing on Conservation Reserve Program lands, to name a few. Even many of the fences crisscrossing the West’s “open” spaces are paid for by American taxpayers.”  The authors explain that there also exists an “abundance of federal and state funding that props up the industry, including below-market grazing fees, emergency feed programs, low-interest federal farm loans, and many other taxpayer-funded programs”….not counting the environmental costs of “soil erosion; degraded water quality and the costs of cleanup; the spread of exotic weeds and the subsequent reduction in plant community productivity; and the costs of saving species endangered by livestock production.” All these plus the social costs of negative health impacts of promoting a meat-intensive diet. Mr. Bundy, your cowboy days are over. Pay up, or git along little doggie. 

Read more about Welfare Ranching at:

Bitcoin vs. LitCoin…new currencies for a new age.

LitCoins, or Literature Coins (not to be confused with Litecoin, one of many alt currencies)…like Bitcoins, are a new currency. Unlike Bitcoin, LitCoin is not a crypto currency, i.e. based on cryptology and the solving of mathematical crypto equations. LitCoin is a paper, analog currency made up of pages torn from works of literature with higher values on literary masterpieces and lesser value on pulp and airport fiction. Like Bitcoin, LitCoin come onto the market by people who “mine” for coins, or ‘miners” in Bitcoin parlance. Bitcoin miners work computers aggregately to solve complicated mathematical equations in order to create new coins. People wanting to “create” or “mine” for LitCoin must go through a process of “reading” instead of “mining” for coins. Readers for LitCoin must solve complicated literary analysis of works of literature. For example, a Reader wanting to create new LitCoins might have to analyze the plot, structure, characterization, tone and mood of Melville’s Moby Dick; or discuss the symbolism, imagery of T.S, Eliot’s “The Wasteland.” Or, on a more linear basis, construct and diagram the fourth section of William Faulkner’s “The Bear.” 

LitCoins can be earned only by non-collaborative effort unlike “miners” for Bitcoins who can summon the power of computers world-wide in solving crypto-equations. If one wants to “buy” or obtain Bitcoins, one must work through a Bitcoin exchange like Mt. Gox, physically located in Japan, and link to your  bank account that contains your dollars or other fiat currency.  Mt. Gox, in the news recently for “losing/misplacing $450 million worth of Bitcoins,  began as an exchange station for collectors and traders of Magic the Gathering fantasy cards, thus M(magic) T(he) G(athering)…go figure. But one can buy LitCoins by going to any used bookstore and asking to buy LitCoins. Not all bookstores are authorized to sell them and it is up to you to discover which store sells them. This can only be done in person; no phone calls or Googling.  Once you find an authorized LitCoin Exchange Bookstore (LEB) then all you do is whisper an esoteric quote from a major character in Russian literature (these quotes can change from day-to-day)  pull out some of that old-school fiat currency folded in your purse of wallet and bingo you have a fistful or maybe a ream of LitCoins. 

Like Bitcoins, LitCoins can be safely stored and protected. Bitcoin owners store their currency in digital “wallets,” software designed to allow payment for the free-flowing exchange of goods and services. LitCoin holders, on the other hand, store their currency in physical cloth “bookbags.” These analog cloth “book bags” are often adorned with commercial imprints or “endorsements” signifying allegiance to a particular brand; a bank, a department store, or sometimes printed with clever  or whimsical statements such as “Mimimalist,” “ToteBag,” “Not A Plastic Bag,” or existential questions “What R U Look N @?,” or “What is the Meaning of My Bag?” The LitCoin “book bag” provides protection and security of LitCoins for the LitCoin owner. LitCoin can be easily exchanged for goods and services with few protocols required for the execution of the exchange unlike Bitcoin which requires lengthy encryption passwords and digital doodads like computers or smart phones. 
Bitcoins were purportedly started by a mysterious Mr. Satoshi Nakamoto of the Island of Pseudonym who has so far escaped discovery by Google, NSA and People Magazine. LitCoins are generally thought to have been created the day before yesterday by a mysterious Ms. Mortimota Muckinfussamuss, who some say anonymously wrote the Cliff Notes on James Joyce’s seminal novel Ulysses.

Which new currency to use? I’m putting my money on LitCoin. As the drunken character Lebedev said in Dostoyevsky’s “The Idiot,” “There’s more wealth, but there’s less strength; the binding idea doesn’t exist anymore; everything has turned soft, everything is rotten, and people are rotten.” (Five Litcoins, please.)…

Doggone War

Will this be what it’ll take to finally grab the attention of Americans to the fact that we are still fighting a war in Afghanistan. A war? In Afghanistan? So 2004, you say? How about over 2,100 American soldiers killed and nearly 180,000 wounded since 2001 as a cold bloody fact. But there’s hope. News reports that Taliban in Afghanistan has captured a top American military prize, a Colonel indeed. Who has four legs and a tail. The report of the Taliban capture of a U. S.or NATO military dog, named Colonel, might just wake our pet-crazed populace out of its complacency enough to ask a collective WTF are we still doing there? And now the Taliban has captured one of our finest…a courageous canine. Americans may have forgotten about the war but this outrage will not stand! Let’s recapture this warrior hound and bring him back home to a hero’s welcome. Oh, and while we’re at it, let’s bring our human soldiers home too.

Analogging My Life

Analogging My Life

I’m starting a new project for 2014. I’m converting my digital life to analog. I plan to capture all my old digital photos on Polaroid, Kodachrome, Ektachrome or B&W Tri-x. My digital music downloads will be converted to vinyl. Here’s a sample of a downloaded MP3 song that I recently anal-logged to wax cylinder. Plans are also in the works to print all my e-books as well as thousands of old Word  Star documents. My work has just begun.

2013 Year In Review

Eyes Only – 2013 – The Movie

Like slow Netflix streaming
2013 kept us
That maybe we should have
Left it
On the digital cutting room Floor.
Deja vu it sure seems
We’ve seen this movie before.

While suffering
A sluggish economy
Republicans applauded
The thuggish dichotomy
That one percent rules
While 99 percent fools
Binge-watched wall streeters
Take over the town.
This year even Ebert
gave it up
With two thumbs down.

Not a hit nor blockbuster
Like a Ted Cruz filibuster
Starring elite superjob “makers”
Supporting a cast of a million “takers”
The Hangover we’re now at sequel XIII
Let’s hope it’s the last one please no more.
Should have skipped it like Hotel floors
Between the twelve and the fourteen.

The Act Two
Blues and nationwide flu
Karma was due
For the POTUS
Who got the most of the Votus
Obamacare paid the price
For good reviews by the SCOTUS
The Prez danced in end zone Gloatus
To roll the dice 
And neglect to do any Promotus.

An unexpected twist in plot
On the war machine’s backlot
Built a new rationale
For women combatants
Renamed now as Gal-
Warrior Wombatants.

Hipster zombies
Walking dead Romneys
Riding fixees so fedorable
Sipping micro brews so pourable
Like Katy Perry’s deplorable ROARable.
Or Mumford boys, Suspenders and hairshirts, 
Banjos and beards,
Brooklyn Williamsburg
Rare dirt
In public personal pity-purges
Moaned their artisanal shi..y Dirges.

(Subway said that size didn’t matter
If their footlong didn’t Measure up
To more sup
On your platter
It’s their way of keeping you Slim not fatter.)

Higgs Bosun a sticky Particular particle
Came out of the closet
Like a cosmic farticle.
Global Warming gave itself a New name
Not Zoe or Chole just Climate Change
Offering now a seismic posit
Bad news for the weary
Deniers of science
That like evolution it’s a fact Not a theory.

(Same sex sexing
Lost its shame sex hexing
Won its legal marital nexus
In a lot of states but definitely Not Texas.)

The special effects starred
iPhones  and androids
Paranoid tech wars
Apple Samsunging
Out-Gaga-ing MileyTonguing
And twerking their OS’s Onscreen with foam fingers
Their bungholes wiping.

In a crucial scene
Social sharing
Went extreme
From beds to bath
And bongs beyond
Our meds and wrath
And wrongs;
We over-shared and boasted
Posted on and on
Our twitter news fed lives
Filled in the empty spaces
In the book of faces.

Toward the end of this flick
The theme of it just won’t stick
It begins with a “p” ah, yes Privacy
Spelled Pry-us-see.
In the name of security
We gave up obscurity
To the government hackers
Hi-jackers of our texts and Email
Who tapped our phones
Watched us from drones.
What caused our massive Passive Fail?
We fell asleep watching
Duck Dynasty crackers.

The leading man looked like A barista;
Exposed his government as   Big Brutha
Ed Snowden’s reward for Those data terabytes 
He’s now living the good life As a Muscovite.

The script called for love
So we clicked on dove
For every cohort
Whatever sort
There was a port.
Blew out the Match;
Disrupted the Harmony and
Jilted the J Date.
We dug for love at KoalMinersDigDeep;
Nodded off with NarcolepsSleep.
Locked down our love at BigHouseDotCom;
Wasted our love at SmokeRoachesWithMom.
Drooled with GeezersGottaGitsum
Unchallenged ourselves at DateDownDumb.
Lifted our Burkas at Muslim Mingle;
Learned to love ourselves at OnanSingle.
Quenched our  desire for
    midget firefighters at
Firemen Squirts;
Satisfied our pain with

Not much action on the set
Instead a fiscal cliff-hanger
Teabagger gangbangers
Played Hunger Gamers
With arrows to the foodstamp safety net.

The plot thickened
A mystery transpired
Cruise shippers sickened
A Pope retired.
Hyperloop the new monorail
Why were people eating kale?

This movie contained graphic content; Explicit language
Situation disasters
Some natural some manmade.
Tornadoes, floods, wildfires, heat waves,
Bombings and deep freezes
Took many to their graves;
Something even killing all the Beesus.

Mass shootings were real Still No gun controls;
To keep armed to the teeth We sold our souls.
Killings rose like a killer Tsunami;
Flush Phlegmball called the Pope a commie.
At intermission we Electronically puffed
Talking about Weed of Wisdom stuff
Vaping on outdated laws.
Who wrote this script was
Legally high
Lulu lemoned rubbed raw thighs
K-Mart-jingling x-rated balls.

We’re buffering again
Little wheel a-spin
Our movie suddenly fades to Black;
This time Tony really did get whacked.

Back to the show
We’re streaming fast from the Cloud
That cinematic sound a loud
Droning mistake could be Maybe
But not in Pakistan who Knows?
Lookout Royal Baby!

Bare chested Pooty Putin
Posing half nudie nootin’
In the Motherland stirs not a
Rooty tootin’ ripple
Sharing the sight of his Tsarist nipples.
A manly show of a Russian metrosexual
Or maybe an outlawed Homosexual.
An emperor Caveman on a
Afraid to eat a little Pussy Riot.

The credits roll
The score lifts high
Villains and heros
The worst and the best
A juiced up Lance
Narcasistic Kanye West
This year gave birth
To some of the worst
And the usual others
Like the Koch Bruthas
Those villainaire major Teabagger fund raisers
Against the powerless Minimum wagers.
The new Pope in old shoes We saw in some photos;
The red ones he sent back to Dorothy and Toto.
The good guys were played By a cast not a lot of
Some gave up the the ghost and their earthly home
(Mandela deserves a much better poem).
The villains too many survived to be seen
in next year’s sequel “2014.”

LF Rudmann

Praajek To Sell Used Virginity to Highest Bidder

Praajek To Sell Used Virginity to Highest  Bidder

Taking a cue from recent news reports that Brazilian college student Catarina Migliorini offered to sell her virginity twice after refusing an offer of $780,000, Praajek recently announced that he too will sell his used virginity to the highest bidder. It’s here for the asking…price, he said. This classic Virginity, although well-worn, shows well with great rustic curb appeal. A few dings and dents are apparent around the edges but this model is a real collector’s item. He said a minimum bid of .99 cents sounds reasonable and is in alignment with the price of an iTunes song download.  “This is a once-in-a-lifetime offer,” said Praajek. The winning bidder will receive an authentic authorized Certificate of Authorized Authenticity (CAA) validating that your bid was accepted. (Consummation not required nor accepted). The lucky winner will also receive a coupon for .25 cents off the purchase of a half pound of Winter Red kale at a local participating grocer.

Extreme Social Sharing

Extreme Social Sharing

In the pursuit of Total Social Sharing (TSS), Praajek has decided without much decision-making thought to disclose, reveal and share with the world intimate details of his personal life… to go where few in the Social Universe have gone before. No, he is not revealing the copious amounts of alcohol consumed at the Funky Bhudda Lounge last Thursday evening nor the lurid details of the three-or-fivesome all-girlly multi-mingle that debauched his crib after he was carried fully armed with lucious ladys from the Funky Bhudda. No, he will not share all his favo foods, injesting facilities, dreams, nightmares, bodily function depositing and waste management adventures. Maybe later. But the following represents his Commitment to the new Standards of Social Sharing which are meant to break the bonds of the restrictive Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996 (HIPPA) and set new Modern Social Standards (MMS) henceforth to be known as Extreme Social Sharing or the Not Too Much Information Act. (NOTOMIA). Hereby, in the spirit of ESS is a manifest of meds that that Praajek ingests on a daily schedule. 


Randomoniums…or Where is Balloon Boy when we need him?

Randomoniums…or Where is Balloon Boy when we need him?

Ah, for the good old days of the boy in the runaway helium balloon and the breathless nonstop live coverage of a metallic balloon wafting thru the skies for hours before listlessly floating to the ground without a boy inside. Or even a more sinister yet semi-comical Kim Jong Un threatening to nuclearly annihilate us while he plays basketball with Dennis Rodman; oh where are you Casey Anthony, Amanda Knox and Jody Arias.. you sexy siren trio of murder trial celebrities? From yesteryear how about a good old-fashioned race-baited murder trial with a white Ford Bronco or a more recent crazy stand-ur ground vigilante? Those were the real news days. Remember Y2K? The Mayan Apocalypse?  Nonstop coverage of Katrinas and Sandys…even terrorists bombings and murderous gun-nut rampages..all those made-for-media horrors that perversely unite and fixate Americans in orgies of prurient watching and watching. We like to watch. That’s what we do. 
These past few weeks, Big Cable demanded that our attention be dominated by the Tea Bagger Congressional Gangstaas and their kidnap of the political process and a threat to crash the world’s economy. The ransom to be paid:  a president and his health care law. The Tea Bagger Blood Gangastaas, are led by Ted “KraziKaKa” Cruz, a former government employee who has been a US Senator for 10 months and expects to be sworn in as the next President of the U. S. if he fails in his quest to have President Obama impeached before 2016. “KraziKaKa” Cruz and his T-Bagga Possse rule  gerrymandered congressional hoods that are marked territories where no DemoCrip Kings gang members dare enter. They threaten other Repubakan Maniac Disciples rival gang districts with destruction if their leaders don’t hew the line and pay their respects. These Tea Bagga gangs are funded by outside national gangs like Freedomworks P. Stone Nation, ruled by the Biggie Koch Bruthas who now worry that the chaos they funded my come back to bite them in their cash boxes if their Tea Bagga minions crash the world economy. Better cool this gang warfare within the Repubakan Maniac Disciples before there is no longer a gang left. Oh well, the Koch Bruthas are planning their strategy for the next gang war skirmishes with the Democrips Kings next year. Meanwhile Big Cable already has as name for the upcoming wars: 
Debt Limit Destruction“.. It’ll be a TeaBagga drive-by… so get ready America…to hit the floor. Or maybe Balloon Boy will come back to help lift the debt ceiling.

Pooty Poot’s Polemic

In a NY Times editorial opinion article Russian President Vladimir Putin, aka Pooty Poot by G. W. Bush, takes America (and Obama) to task for its reliance on military aggression to solve international conflicts. “We must stop using the language of force and return to the path of civilized diplomatic and political settlement,” Putin writes. 

Putin further says that although he and President Obama are increasing their mutual trust, he takes exception to the President’s assertion of American “exceptionalism” and that its policies make it an exceptional nation. Invoking the “lord” Putin says that people in all countries are created equal. 
“It is extremely dangerous to encourage people to see themselves as exceptional….There are big countries and small countries, rich and poor, those with long democratic traditions and those still finding their way to democracy. Their policies differ, too. We are all different, but when we ask for the Lord’s blessings, we must not forget that God created us equal,” Putin concludes. 
So Putin transforms himself from a cartoonish James Bond-type villain who outlaws gay rights, imprisons political rivals, (even the Pussy Riot girl band for public protests) to a wise and benevolent leader and champion of human rights and Nobel Peace Prize candidate schooling Obama on the need for restraint, on the perils of military action to promote our version of democracy. “Millions around the world increasingly see America not as a model of democracy but as relying solely on brute force, cobbling coalitions together under the slogan “you’re either with us or against us.” 
Is Putin correct to challenge America on its claim of being “exceptional?” Does our policy of unilateral military strikes against any country that uses chemical weapons or commits genocide make us exceptional or just hypocritical. Our use of chemical napalm in Vietnam, our tacit approval of Saddam Hussain’s use of chemical weapons in its war with Iran in the 1980s could be construed as exceptional hypocrisy. As the only nation to ever use the destructive force of nuclear weapons on another country it would seem our exceptionalism could easily be interpreted by other people around the world as less than aspirational. 

It’s easy to read Pooty Poot’s polemic as reasonable if not awkwardly written. (Couldn’t he hire an American English major to edit his writing?) America has relied on brute force, has acted in a “with us or against us” attitude exemplified in the extreme by G. W. Bush’s war on Iraq. But Pooty Poot.. come on…we may be hypocrites, but one thing is obvious, the Emperor wears no shirt.

Miley…The Genius of America

Miley…The Genius of America

America. Attention. Your attention is required now. If you have not seen Miley Cyrus’s recent VMA performance then you have missed one of the most important, seminal art achievements in Western culture. Ms.Cyrus’s spectacle, and I say “spectacle” in the true sense of wonderment, pageantry, virtuosity and sheer genius, stands alone among the few wondrous public acts ever shared with Americans, indeed humanity. Mother Theresa worked in silent anonymity bringing solace, relief and peace to the poor and sick. Einstein brought to science a new and relative perspective on space and time; the great composers Beethoven, Mozart, Brahms, Mahler, Debussy, along with moderns Glass and Cage gave us music as never before heard; Steve Jobs taught us to think and act differently; the monumental achievements of mankind can be chronicled, attested to and celebrated. But until now all these achievements pale, indeed are diminished by a 6 minute 23 second manifestation of The Great American Art. Period. No novel, poem, musical composition, painting, sculpture, architectural construction or other genius product of man’s imagination has ever captured the essence of America, its people, its business, its religions, its music, its scientific and technological achievements… all that defines its very culture as much as a tiny girl named Miley did on August 25, 2013. Remember that date. That day America found itself. From a Giant Teddy Bear emerged a Foamed Fingered Force that forged a final definition of America and its people. Remember 08-25-13. Your great grandchildren will recall that day in history. Tell your children now that you viewed it live on TV or later saw it on YouTube. Point them to it now so they can witness it for themselves and thus pass down thru their generations what history will remark and remember as The Great American Art. 

Five Most Craziest Sex Positions That You Will Blow Your Mind… in the Future

 Five Most Craziest Sex Positions That You Will Blow Your Mind… in the Future

In the future, that time period that you can only dream about and that may or may not happen, conjugal body melding, doing the dirty deed, intercourse, just plain #%¥•}€ or what we now refer to as “sex” will occur thru some mind-blowing techniques and physical maneuvers unimagined today. Tomorrow’s sex will not be your father’s (nor mother’s) sex. Check out the FIVE (actually SIX)  most important, unbelievable techniques that await you in the Future.

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Yippie Yi Ti Yo…Get Along ‘Lil Cheney….

Liz Cheney

You Know That Wyoming Will Be Your New Home…..
Former Vice President and un- indicted war criminal Dick Cheney’s daughter Liz “The Non-Lesbian One” has thrown her netipot in the ring for a Senate seat in Wyoming, a state in the western part of the US that currently has two Senators representing all 562 citizens. (Compare California with two Senators for its 38 million souls). 
The 46 year old mother of five moved to Wyoming last year thus establishing her residency in order to run for the Senate seat already held by Republican Mike Enzi, one of the most severe conservatives in the Senate. Ms. Cheney and her father believe Wyoming needs an even more severe, backward-looking conservative. Having held many jobs in government, Ms. Cheney has also worked on her father’s campaigns. In 2009 she helped establish a non-profit organization “Keep America Safe” which aims to keep America safe. Ms. Cheney also appears as a political pundit on Fox News often displaying her father’s recognizable snarl. 

Mr. Cheney, Who’s the Real Traitor and Spy?

Former U.S. Vice President and un-convicted war criminal Dick Cheney Sunday proclaimed NSA leaker Edward Snowden a “traitor…and possibly a Chinese spy…” Looking perky and pink-cheeked, Mr. Cheney told his Fox TV hosts during an interview that if the NSA  American citizen spy program had been in effect before the September 11 terrorists attacks on the U.S. then the attacks might have been thwarted. Mr. Cheney’s selective memory, perhaps compromised as a result of multiple heart attacks preceding his surprising receipt last year of a new heart from a mysterious and anonymous donor, overlooks another reason the 9-11 attacks were not uncovered. On August 6, 2001, a month before the attacks, the Bush Administration received a PDB “Presidential Daily Briefing” titled “Bin Laden Determined to Strike in U.S.”  According to a September 12, 2012 New York Times article, this warning from the CIA was a frustrated follow-up to two previous other briefs on May 1 and July 29, 2001 warning the White House that Bin Laden was planning to attack soon. Of course these warning were ignored on the advice of the Vice and his neo-con cronys. If Mr. Cheney had not chosen to ignore these warnings perhaps the 9-11 attacks could have been prevented. Mr. Cheney deliberately chose not to protect and defend the American people from a possible imminent attack which resulted in the massacre of nearly 3,000 defenseless citizens on American soil. Who’s the real traitor, Edward Snowden or Dick Cheney? And could Cheney be an al-Qaeda spy?

For What it’s Worth

There are serious implications of government gathering private info on citizens. If in the current Prism NSA National Security Agency (No Such Agency?) case it turns out that actual phone conversations, emails etc. were accessed, then we might be talking serious and criminal.  But what is absurd is the shock and dismay being expressed that government would do or attempt to do this contrasted with the reality of how much people today are willing to divulge of their private info in public forums, like Facebook Twitter & other social media. When people post on Facebook or Twitter when & where they’re eating, peeing, who they’re sleeping with, that they’re drunk, high or visiting a museum or theatre why would they care if the government knows it too? It’s Facebook! You just posted it for the whole freaking world to see! (Even if you limit access to “friends” every time you post something it’s ultimately available for worldwide distribution.) I just ate this, here’s a photo of my caprese salad. I just arrived here.. I’m seeing this now..  I have a new grandchild and here’s 35 photos of her wrapped in swaddling cloth. I’m I’m I’m me me me look at me.. I’m important, I’m doing cool things, I’m relevant, I’m part if the world, I’m Special!!! And then when you find out the government is looking at the how Special you are… you are shocked. Shocked!

Cameras on every street corner, donut shop & grocery store. GPS in your car tells that GPS company and the government (government-licensed satellite) where you are & where you’ve been. Get cash from an ATM and you’ve left tracks. Grocery “value” key cards track your eating/drinking preferences. I’ve got 12 such cards on my key ring. The Target store chain admitted last year it could predict buyer purchases based on buyer history & demographics..i.e. stock more maternity items and junk food in low-income areas. If you shop at Lane Bryant with a credit card you might find it harder to buy health insurance. People talk loudly and freely and often purposely on cell phones in public places sharing intimate details of their “important” lives with annoyed and reluctant listening strangers. We live in a world where we are made to believe that sharing our personal information is cool, that privacy is not, that too much info is better than not enough. We say singsongedly “Too much in-for-ma-tion!” But we don’t really believe it.

So, do I trust the government with my personal info? Not any more than I trust my hospital, car dealer, grocery store, toll road agency, or the myriad other businesses and institutions I interact with.

At this point it has not been shown that the government actually listened or transcribed my phone calls or emails. The danger in the government’s Prism program is its potential to collect and store indefinitely our private communications and transactions. And why collect and store if it doesn’t use it.

If paranoia is justified then I must also be afraid of Verizon, ATT, Comcast, Citibank, Google,  Apple, etc. Those companies already have my info. And I don’t get to elect their CEO or directors. Is there really any essential difference between a big corporation and a government  agency besides election day accountability? The U.S.uses private military companies such as KBR (former Halliburton unit) and Blackwater to supply corporate soldiers to fight our wars; Booze Allen tech consulting derives 90% of its income from a government contract with NSA. Verizon provides a special physical fiber-optic pipeline to NSA. We need to unearth a vast supply of paranoia to cover all this.

Maybe we over-share
Can’t have it both ways..
Share it you bear it.

The issue is what will or could government do with your phone calls, email, social media updates?

Ultimately the total paranoid answer is “anything it wants to do to you it could.” Audit your taxes? Check. Restrict your travel.. deny passport, driver license?  Seize your guns? Check. Deny medical care? Form a death panel? Sure. Make your life miserable?  Lock you up? Kill you? Oh yeah!  All this assumes that government is intrinsically evil. Or if not, then it will choose an evil path if given the choice; that we elect leaders who are so flawed, weak, manipulative and willing to ignore the Constitution that we might as well not give a damn about anything and just live our pitiful little lives under the lens of Big Brutha.

“Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you’re always afraid
Step out of line, the men come and take you away.” Buffalo Springfield

Secret Government Data Mine Discovered in WV Hollow!

Government data miners photographed hauling data into secret mine using hi-capacity fiber-optic rail vessel.

Praajek has just uncovered, thru proprietary wiki-hacking resources, a top-secret government Data Mine located in the foothills of a musty mountainous West Virginia hollow. Here are some exclusive photos I excavated from NSA data mines which show a top secret storage facility where the cell phone calls, Facebook postings, Instagram photos, old love letters, grocery lists, vehicle maintenance records, utility bills, old college essays, report cards, job evaluations, graduation classmate messages in high school yearbooks, baby teeth unclaimed by the Tooth Fairy, DNA samples of toenail clippings from unturned sofa cushions, New Year resolutions, Catholic Church member confessions, childhood mother’s day cards and first grade plaster hand imprints of millions of Americans. These exclusive photos also show government data mine workers hauling in for storage and analysis tons of private data from unsuspecting American citizens.

This previously undisclosed photo shows a government top secret data storage facility in remote West Virginia hollow.


“Celebrate good times, come on!
Let’s celebrate
Celebrate good times, come on!
Let’s celebrate.”
….Kool & The Gang
Ok.. I know I should cut Boston some slack. The teenage Marathon Bomber is in the hands of the police. The older one is dead. There is much deserved relief among Bostonians and their suburban neighbors. Thank the gods & goddesses that these terrorists have been stopped from further mayhem. Then why does last night’s flag-waving, anthem singing, bare-chested celebration seem so “un” seemly. I ask myself what would I have done (sorry, can’t ask Jesus… he’s dead). Would I have been there in a frenzied chest-thumping mob singing and publicly celebrating like the mob broadcast on TV? Where were the TV networks when probably most of Boston stayed quiet and solemn in their homes with the sad acknowledgment that this type of terror in America will probably not be the last. That’s not really something to celebrate. 
Rather than celebrate, evidenced by the screaming, singing, dancing of the televised mob, I’m sure many Bostonians took this time to reflect, to hug their children in love more than celebration. But televising such a scene would not make good television. 
“We’re gonna have a good time tonight (Ce-le-bra-tion)
Let’s celebrate, it’s all right
We’re gonna have a good time tonight (Ce-le-bra-tion)
Let’s celebrate, it’s all right.”

The News…how much is too much?

The News…how much is too much?
The non-stop coverage of the tragic terror bombing in Boston by major cable and network TV news organizations is exploitative, wringing ratings bounty from tragedy in exchange for dubious reports of speculation, rumor, interviews with terror experts, maudlin personal accounts of victims by family, friends and neighbors. All disguised as “news.” News that the American public, as deemed by the media, supposedly needs in massive overdoses. And needs and needs more and more and more.  Of course an event as horrific as a public bombing has to be covered as real news. But as soon as one of these violent events occur the media rolls out its pre-fab boiler plate disaster template replete with catchy “name,” The Boston Bombing.” Identify victims to highlight with personal profiles, reporters hang out in front of victims’ homes, conduct special interviews of neighbors. When all the relatives’ anguish, privacy and mourning has been exhausted then bring on Rudy Giuliani.  We’ve seen it all before..again and again. We watch the replays of the disasters over and over, the weeping relatives, the long-faced newscasters.  Wolf Blitzer fluffing his audience into an orgy of visual TV engorgement with his perfectly timed “This just in.. Breaking News… on top of breaking breaking breaking news; Anderson Cooper grim-faced with practiced reverent vocalizations of sympathy… Stay tuned we’ll be right back with more on this developing story ……Stay tuned… Stay tuned… Right after this commercial message from Teenna Twist stop-the-leaks-panty pads. 
We’re back with newsbabe Stacey So’enso.. From box cutters to pressure cookers, let’s discuss… Joining me now is the spokesperson for the National Association of Pressure Cookers. 
Let the news just be news. 
The constant attempts to squeeze out a story from the slimmest of facts; the milking of a tragedy by repeated looping of horrific bloody videos; the frenzied pursuit of interviews with “experts” on any imaginable subject with the barest of relevance to the crime adds up not to legitimate news coverage but instead an attempt to stoke a morbid and prurient public hunger for a bloody insatiable feast on the aftermath of unspeakable tragedy.

Dick Cheney Apologizes…?

Since Dick Cheney won’t apologize for anything, I’ll do it for him…

Former President George Bush’s underling Vice P. Dick Cheney continues to rear his evil shrunken head grabbing headlines by criticizing Obama’s cabinet picks and insuring the world that he doesn’t apologize for or regret anything in his life.

Last year it was his “no apologies”memoir, now it’s a recent documentary,  THE WORLD ACCORDING TO DICK CHENEY, which amounts another helping of sour left-over no-apologies. As the world recently marked the 10th anniversary of the invasion of Iraq, the Cheney-Bush-Rummy-Condi-Colin’s two trillion dollar war that slaughtered more than 4,400 Americans, injured more than 32,000 Americans and killed more than 100,000 Iraqis, Mr. Cheney continues to spend his remaining days on a self-congratulatory “no-apologies” tour.

If Mr. Cheney won’t apologize for his murderous war or anything else he’s done in his strangelovian life, well I suppose it’s time, before he passes from this world into the depths of his own special room in Hell, that someone steps up and apologizes for him. It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it.

So here it goes:  To all of Humanity.. I, Dick Cheney, offer my whole and transplant-hearted apologies for:

Dodging the Vietnam war draft five (5) times, while chicken-hawking and stoking the flames of wars for others to be maimed and killed in. I apologize profusely for publicly stating that “I had other priorities,” as my excuse for dodging service to my nation.

I also apologize for supporting and promoting the wiretapping of American citizens, warrant-less Gitmo detention of suspected enemies, and the waterboarding and torture of enemy combatants in defiance of the Geneva Conventions.

I apologize for my egregious and purposeful lies to the American public about the existence of WMDs in Iraq and my vile role in leading America into the invasion of a sovereign nation that had no role in the 9-11 attack on the US. I am also sorry for publicly stating that the Iraq War would be “an enormous success story.” (although I admit it was a financial success personally for me..ha ha). Although I apologize for that war, I admit that I will never be able to wash the blood of American soldiers and innocent Iraqi men, women and children from my greedy withered hands.

I apologize for my Iraq war profiteering that further enriched me by benefiting my former company Halliburton in its oil and construction ventures in that nation. I’m sorry that as Secretary of Defense – 1989-93-  I awarded Defense contracts to Halliburton and later was paid $44 million as Chairman of Board and CEO of Halliburton.

I also apologize for tricking poor dumb George W. Bush into accepting me as his running mate in the 2000 election. By assigning myself as the head of his search team for a credible Vice Presidential candidate, I sifted thru all the potential applicants only to, behold, find the perfect Vice: me! (I’m really sorry for that one!).

Although I apologize for these and numerous other minor and mostly major (sorry, Harry, for shooting you on that hunting trip) failures, schemes and crimes against humanity, I also wish to apologize for the innumerable medical resources that I’ve spent, probably the result of 20 years of 3-pack-a-day smoking. My multiple heart attacks, pacemakers, vein transplants used up valuable medical time and money. My heart transplant last year grabbed a heart from an anonymous donor that could have certainly been given to a more worthy recipient than me.


Dick Cheney, your humble public servant. (just kidding…)

Don’t Drone Me Bro ©.. World’s First Personal Drone Deflector

Don’t Drone Me Bro ©.. World’s First Personal Drone Deflector

With mounting concerns over the US government’s use of unmanned drones to kill American citizens, few are discussing defensive measures, beyond a Rand “BatshitKrazy” Paul filibuster, that citizens might deploy against a Government Drone Attack (GDA). Under top-secret protocols guided by the Paranoidial Society of America, I have just completed development of  “Don’t Drone Me Bro©,” the world’s first Personal Drone Deflector. This unique personal headgear utilizes a patented highly effective deflective anti-drone silicate-based high-enamel coating called Teflonium. Combined with drone-signal-messing Warping Strips of special Tinfoilium, the “Don’t Drone Me Bro©” headgear offers state-‘o-the-art technology at state-‘o-the economy prices. Lovingly hand crafted by bearded Amish farmers near Wapokeneta, Ohio,  the “Don’t Drone Me Bro©” Drone Deflector also relieves drone- scanning neck pain as well as that nagging sense of impending instant death from the sky. Apply today to be one of the first “DDMB pioneers” to try it out. Txt 312.339.2583 or twitter @praajek #dontdronemebro why you would like to be one of the first to receive a prototype model.  But wait.. By applying now, if selected as a DDMB pioneer, you will also receive absolutely free an extra set of the patented Drone Signal-Messing Tinfoilium Warping Strips for extra drone death-defying protection. (Just pay shipping & handling.)

Google Glasses…I got Mine! I’m the first…

Google Glasses…I got Mine! I’m the first…
I got the jump on Google’s recent offer to apply for the first consumer model of its augmented reality glasses. Regular folks had to go through an application process, write an essay and plunk down $1,500 for the honor to be the first on their network to have a computer on their face. 
With my inside-Google social creds I arrived home the other day to the receipt of a Fed-X package from the Google Factory with a pair of prototype Google Glasses. Among the myriad features, my GGs sport designer rare-element Refusomonium Steel frames with “SouperDouper” Optics lens. 
One of the most magical features, NostrilJamAudio, enables me to now smell sounds. This takes music listening to an all-new dimension allowing one to instantly perceive whether or not a particular song stinks…or “smells/sounds” good. I tested it out by letting Pandora randomly select a female 80’s pop singer. Out came Madonna singing a cover of Don McLean’s American Pie and instantly my olfactory senses were overwhelmed with a putrid smell of fresh shoe-stepped-in dog poop. I hit my iTunes playlist favos including Muse, (hoppy beer brew scent) Mana (lime and cilantro)  and Brahms Concerto for Piano no.2 in B flat minor ( cinnamon apple strudel). Wow. NostrilJam really works! 
 And that’s not all, folks. Yes, you can smell sounds, but you can also “see” smells with Google Glass’s nifty app called “sMellize” (smelly eyes…get it?) When I played and smelled that Madonna song with the sMellize app activated I actually saw thru the Google Glass “SouperDouper” lens a virtual re-creation of dog poop on a shoe. Amazing. 
Although I haven’t explored all the features on my new GGs I particularly enjoy the Sommelier Gizzy which automatically suggests and lets me virtually taste the perfect wine it algorithmically pairs with the dinner items I scan by looking at the menu. Pretty nifty, right? Let’s say I’m scanning the menu at Mr. Beef’s Italian beef walk-in on Orleans Street in Chicago. I focus my GG lens on the menu description of an extra large juicy beef with hot jardiniere. SommelierGizzy instantly brings up in my vision field a hip bottle of Muscatel Red. If I remove the Olfactory Sensory inset from my nostril (used for the NostrilJam app) and place it in my mouth I suddenly perceive a taste-sensation of that rich-bodied Muscatel Red. Crazy, right? 
Other features like the BlackHole Rectal Scan A-hole detector can warn me when I’m in the vicinity of jerks and assholes. Although Google touts this feature prominently in its promotions, it needs to work out some bugs. The A-Hole Detector kept giving me a warning even when I was alone and no one around. What gives, Google? 
Overall, Google Glass is everything one could expect from the Google Factory. Rumor has it that the next version of GG will incorporate the killer app “tOuchi-feeli,” which purportedly allows a GG explorer to virtually touch and feel one’s or another’s feelings. For example, if my significant one is feeling angry, I might be able to touch and feel the shape of that sadness as a tactile object, (sharp heavy?) and see it’s color (red?), and eventually even visually perceive it as maybe a chair which hits me in the head. Sweet, eh? 
And one last nice touch: included in every set of Google Glass is a special Hipster Hat. How cool is that? Eat your algorithms out, ye Googleless Goggleless ones. 
Click on image to enlarge.
Me Testing My New Google Glass
Click on image to enlarge…
New Google Glass Prototype

Dysfunctional Government or Business?

Dysfunctional Government or Business?
Once again NY Times columnist David Brooks hits the (hammer) head on the (thumb) nail in today’s column. He asserts “that business people think that government is so dysfunctional that they are afraid to invest and spur growth.” They indeed might think government dysfunctional, but that’s not the reason for lack of new investment and hiring.  And businesses might also be afraid to invest. They are afraid because they can afford to be afraid, but not a fear of government.  A lot of businesses are sitting on stockpiles of cash and have learned during the past recession years that they can get by without additional hiring by demanding employees work longer and harder without significant wage increases. Not much incentive to hire when workers fear layoffs. First it was the excuse of the “fiscal cliff” for not expanding and hiring. Now it’s the sequestration. They blame the government when the real reason lies in their new timid austerity and obsession for wringing the maximum profits out of the minimum workforce rather than boldly investing, creating jobs and helping the economy expand. And maybe this time government, as Reagan once said, is also part of the problem. Not for interference and regulation or tax policies. It’s partially to blame because it’s not doing enough. It’s not spending enough to create new jobs. Once government unleashes the power of public sector jobs programs, investment in infrastructure, bridges, highways, the electrical grid, then dysfunctional business will see the error of its frugal fiscal folly and follow and cash-in with new investments and jobs. 

Buffalo Wings Clipped?… Try Kalahogies this Super Bowl.

Buffalo Wings Clipped?… Try Kalahogies this Super Bowl.
The widespread national panic over the fear of a chicken wing shortage may indeed be self-fulfilling. Hoards of “wingers” are storming grocers, lining up hours before store openings, even stalking loading docks of Sam’s Costco and Walmart. Major corporate chicken farms have reportedly been victims of midnight raids by marauding Super Bowl fans bent on having their wings and eating them too. In the rural South reports of broad-daylight chicken snatchings from back and front yards have been witnessed by locals.

Folks, there’s a better way. Forgot the “Buffalo Wing.”

As we slouch toward Super Bowl Sunday let us fore go the boring Buffalo Wing and masticate on the oral delights of Faux Calamari, or better known as Kalahogies. Faux, or fake calamari is similar to the artificial seafood crab stuff at the deli counter. It is the perfect Super Bowl snack made of real pork (the other white meat, right?)  Real calamari, as we all know are those tasty little white chewy rings of battered and fried squid. Faux calamari, popularly known as Kalahogies, are little rings of chewy hog rectums, battered and fried to delicious nutritious  chewiness. Boil them first until soft, then grill or deep fry slathered in spicy barbecue sauce. Serve and chew by the dozen. You’ll never go back to Buffalo.

With apologies to William Butler Yeats’ “The Second Coming.”:

“The Second Helping”

Turning & burning on the broiling gyre
The chicken cannot but fear the
Wings fall part, the skin cannot
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The buffalo-wing shortage is loosed
And everywhere
The half-time ceremony of
has-been rock stars
Is drowned out by beer commercials.
The best commercials lack all conviction
While the worst are full of
Passionate flatulence.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely a Second Helping is at hand.

The Second Helping! Hardly are Those words out
When a vast image of Barbequedis Porcina-rectumus
Eases my sight: somewhere in Lands of the dessert
A shape with hog body and the Head of a chicken
A glaze sticky and hot and pitiless As the sun,
Is dripping slowly down my chin While all about it
Real sad howls of the indignant
Wingless fans.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That XLVII Super Bowls of boring
Were hexed to indigestion by the chili ladle
And what rough beast, its rectum well done at last,
Slouches towards the two minute
warning to be eaten?

"No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act".

Pass the “No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act”.

President Obama’s recent proposals to control the spread of guns in America does not go far enough. Here’s what we need: 
Don’t control guns, ban them.
Presidential/Executive “Re-interpretation” of the Second Amendment concomitant with enactment by Congress or Presidential Fiat of the “No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act” also to be known as the “No Right to Own Guns Act.”
The manufacture, import and sale of firearms and ammunition for non-military in the U. S. and its territories will be banned. 
Phase One: A Federal ban on the civilian purchase of any firearm. This means hand guns, assault rifles, shotguns, hunting rifles, target/sport firearms. Also BB guns and similar varmint-hunting guns such as pellet guns, potato “spud” guns and all NERF-type projectile-emitting gun facsimiles. (BB/pellet and NERF-type guns are “gateway weapons” that lead to future desire/addiction to possess and use bullet-based firearms). Violation of the “No Gun Left Behind Act” is a zero tolerance, “one strike you are out” violation resulting In a minimum income-based fine of $20,000 and up. Inability or refusal  to pay the fine shall result in a minimum one year sentence to a firearm practice ranch for Federal Agents as a live target decoy. (Sentence commuted after one year if prisoner survives)
Phase Two: The President shall order all citizens to turn in to Federal Authorities any and all firearms they own or possess. Firearm owners complying will be compensated for the price that they paid for the firearm(s). Refusal to comply will result in fines and imprisonment. 
Phase Three: The National Guard, branches of the US military forces, Federal policing agents including the FBI, will conduct house-to-house inspections nationally for the purpose of confiscation of firearms. Non-compliance will result in imprisonment of head of household. 
Phase Four: local police will be required to “Stop & Frisk” suspected gun carriers at any time or place. Citizens will also be rewarded with cash bonuses for alerting police or Federal authorities to anyone who they suspect possessing a firearm. 
Hunters and firearm sport enthusiasts will be able to rent approved firearms from the federal government for limited use. Firearm renters shall have proper gun user insurance.  
Traditional firearm-based hunters who choose not to rent firearms will be provided with federal training in bow & arrow, knife and persistence hunting (stalking and chasing game on foot until animal is caught). 
Black market distribution of firearms will be controlled by Revenueurs a special elite strike force of Federal and civilian under- cover swat specialists. Funding for national firearm prohibition will be diverted from state, local and Federal drug enforcement since passage of the “Freedom to Purchase & Use Any Drug Act” Americans will be able to purchase and use any drug legally.
This should be considered only the first steps in freeing our country of the curse of firearms. Once these actions are enacted then America should really get serious about banning guns. 


Things I didn’t write about since late October: Praajek has been on “special” assignment, recovering from major robotic multiple insertion-point abdominal invasions. Five street cred-enhancing slugs to the stomach. The seven hour long surgery took so long because the robot was operated by a 15 year-old Hindu boy in Mumbai who was also doing tech calls for Dell Computer.

Obama re-elected. Oh, yeah, I predicted that didn’t I? Ah. Not. Actually. I was convinced, like Karl Rove, Dick Morris and Fox News that Romney would win. Despite Nate Silver’s daily tracking data crunches, Obama just seemed ripe for a Jimmy Carter-style wipe-out. My mis-praajekshun could have been the result of my tendency toward “catastrophizing” or always expecting that the worst thing will happen; “making a mountain out of a molehill,” a tendency toward expecting a catastrophic nuclear meltdown from forgetting your car keys. Anyway, I took great solace in the non-realization of my worst fear of a Romney presidency.

Can “good” ever come from catastrophes? No. But change can happen, change that can help prevent or mitigate the damage and impact of future disasters.

SuperStormSandy: NJ Gov.Chris Christy’s embrace of Obama incensed Repooblicans and certainly didn’t hurt The President’s re-election chances. SSS also led to further erosion of John Boehner’s reputation as he later delayed Republican approval of disaster funds for stricken SSS victims. More importantly, maybe the Climate Change “Truther Deniers” will re-evaluate their denial.

Newtown child mass murder gun shooting rampage. No. No one can say any “good” resulted from the gun-shooting mass murder of 20 children. Maybe now we’ll get laws against unbridled, uncontrolled gun ownership.

Mayan apocalypse collapyse. The world really did end. We just haven’t realized it yet. Proof? Just look at Apple’s stock plunge.

But the event that really rocked and shocked the earth to it’s molten core was @Pontifex, Pope Benedict’s new Twitter account. Are you following this guy? Ten days ago he tweeted: “May we defend the right of conscientious objection of individuals and institutions promoting freedom and respect for all.” Wow, sounds like he is ready to embrace same-sex marriage and equal rights for women.” Go @Pontifex!

Praajekshuns for 2013:

Nicki Minaj will reveal “she’s” really Dennis Rodman.

Lance Armstrong will admit that yes he did inject… his bike tires…with steroids.

Obama will issue a long-over-due executive order banning the use of YOLO.

The Republican Party will reanimate itself by replacing its elephant symbol with a Mexican Burro.

The Chicago Tribune fire one of its copy editors who accidentally printed the name of the Russian punk girl band Pussy Riot.

Rev. Al Sharpton will be “axed” by MSNBC.

President Mitt Romney

Four years ago people who voted in the United States elected to elect the first non-white President. Four years later voters will elect to not re-elect that first non-White President and elect, for the 56th time, a white man. Despite President Obama’s last two strong debate performances it was his dismal showing in the first debate that opened the door for Mitt to rush in. That door was already a fragile door kept closed by a reverse vacuum of Mitt mistakes sucking it shut rather than strong Obama weight against it. That weak-kneed first debate response showed an Obama in killer-rabbit mode, fearful to engage choosing flight instead of fight. And now with Mitt’s election and Obama’s defeat, we prepare for a new America, one ruled by a right-wing Teabagger ethic that endorses the insane concept of voting against one’s economic self-interest, that raises Christian religious myths above science, that believes access to affordable health card is not a right, that your social security should be trusted to Wall Street rather than the government, but that the government, not women themselves, should make decisions regarding their bodies and health. 
This Age of Mitt ushers in a new America with a Supreme Court guaranteed to outlaw abortion, defend corporate over individual rights, promote the ownership and use of more handguns, assault rifles and stockpiling of ammo. Corporations will be people with additional powers to buy elections & threaten their workers to vote for Mitt-like candidates or else face lay-offs.  The wealthiest one percent will reap bountiful bags of tax reductions while the middle class will continue to shrink slouching powerless toward a lower standard of living, fewer opportunities and burdened with increased taxes. 
Obama sat on the sidelines for the first year of his presidency, failed to even try to sell the benefits and positive results of The Stimulus, the auto bailout and his affordable health care act. He let Mitch McConnell and John Boehner disrespect him and the Office and laid down the AstroTurf around his own political grave. 
And now we face a new America…a corporate-theocracy serving the twin interests of big business and big religion. Which is a perfect fit reflecting Mitt Romney’s and his Morman Church’s ethic that merges religion and business/finance. 
Welcome to the New America. Where the business of America is business and god, where business is a religion and religion our business. 


Will Romy wear a pink tie thinking he is pandering to women?

Instead of a handshake at start of debate O must give Romney a noogie & a wedgie.

O must not repeat that Romney’s pen_ _ (sion) is bigger than his. 
In discussing Russian President Putin, O should force Romney to say the words “Pussy Riot.”
O must challenge Mitt to admit 
he doesn’t know how many holes-in-one N.Korean leader Kim Jong Un achieved 1st time he golfed. (answer: 18)
Body language: Instead of pointing his finger this time Obama will just give Rommy The Finger.
O should remind us how embarrassing it could be 4 Mittens to visit London & France wearing Magic Morman Underpants. 
US Bishops r threatening Catholics with eternal damnation if they vote 4 O. Would O support a first strike against the Vatican?

Zingers… and The Next Debate

Zingers… and The Next Debate
President Obama’s cringe-worthy, zingerless debate with Mitt the Re-Born Moderate can serve to give him and his advisors the courage to plot a new Zinger-filled strategy for his next encounter with RoboRom. I kept shouting at friends while watching Obama’s dismal limp performance that he was only playing, a la Ali,  a Ropa-Dope strategy.. letting RoboRom wear himself out with his weary punches only to push off in the last rounds in a flurry of crisp and unrelenting flicks, jabs, lefts, rights, body blows and a coup de gras to Romney’s circuit board lit crainium. But no Ropa-dope. Just  bent over defeated eyes cast down in a ” just let me go home and sleep..yo Michelle, let’s doit again-in-morn” body language. 
An acquaintance in Kansas City, MO, Wayne Bowser, held a debate-night gathering anticipating a zinger cream-filled evening requiring his guests to eat a Hostess Zinger (which he served in abundant amounts) each time O or R served up a debate zinger. Needless (yet required) to say, Bowser will be  doling out left-over twin Zingers to his two twin teenage sons for breakfast, lunch & dinner until at least November 6th. 
Maybe if Obama had partaken in a cream-filled Zinger or two before the debate instead of early-celebrating his wedding anniversary…jeez, even cauliflowered-eared brain-addled boxers know not to have sex the night before, let alone right before you climb into the ring…he might have been sugar-energized enough to un-clog his sex-weakened brain. Sex makes the legs weak. Brain too. Obama drowning in post-coital endorphins.. every other word an “uh”… Surprised he didn’t whisper to Romney “I love u too baby….” Holy Sheet. Worst. Debate. Performance. Ever. (Sorry for use of: most. trite. construction. ever.)
So, next debate. Let the zingers fly. Here are ten zinger suggestions for Obama.. an Obama who will be sex-starved, edgy, angry ( yeah First Dude.. channel your inner Samuel L. Jackson), cold-blooded and thirsty and hungry to kill anything standing behind a podium or within ten feet of Your Personal Presidential Space. 
Zinger # 1: Well, there you go a Bain! 
Zinger # 2: I knew Snooki…and Sir, you are no Snooki ! 
Zinger # 2: Don’t go get’n your  Magic Morman underpants all in a knot. 
Zinger #3: Govna… I knew Honey Boo Boo… And Sir, you are no Honey Boo Boo !
Zinger # 4: Govanur, You need to put on your Big Boy Magic Morman Underpants. 
Zinger # 5: Yeah, you and the Dressage horse you rode in on.
Zinger # 6: You and your One Per%ers deserve a tax reduction like Todd Akin deserves an Award from the National Organization of Women. 
Zinger # 7: You have flip-flopped so often that Sea World stock just tripled. And so has the world beach sandal industry. 
Zinger # 8: Your hair has been dyed so much that it could serve on a death panel. 
Zinger # 9: And yo Mama.. jeans. 
Zinger # 10: You been more brainwashed by the Tea Party than your daddy was brainwashed by Vietnam.

Romney’s Secret Weapon

Romney Unleashes Secret Weapon to Win White House
Republican nominee for President Mitt Romney today revealed a devastating new tactic which many predict will propel him to the Oval Office and his Party to the capture of both houses of the legislative branch. The new campaign strategy, unleashed at recent public supporter-only rallies, shows that Romney has finally decided to get serious about winning the Presidency. Leaders of his party as well as opposition Democrats seem both shocked and surprised that Romney would employ what many would consider tantamount to a “nuclear” option to take command of the upcoming election. “Never before has a candidate shouted so loudly at a political rally,” said one taken-aback advisor. “This guy can really shout.” By shouting at extreme decibel levels, Romney’s new secret weapon – shouting loudly – is expected to revive his moribund campaign, excite his base, bring home the undecided, turn-on his wife and make his four or five sons really, really proud of him. Oh, and make him President, too.

Exclusive – Topless Queen Elizabeth.

This blog has recently come into possession of exclusive photos taken of a topless Queen Elizabeth vacationing in a remote beach spot on the Isle of Wight. The exclusive photos of the Queen’s Royal boobs and Royal Bottom are posted here: the revealing uncovered upper and lower parts have been digitally blurred for the protection of young (& old) eyes. The Topless Queen photos become public just as the Royal Family and the World are recovering from the shocking topless photos of Princess Kate. “This is just too much to “bare” a close friend of the Royal Family reportedly said. 

GOP Says Don’t Buy iPhone5

Don’t Buy New iPhone5 – GOP Memo Warns

A secret “eyes-only” memo from the Republican National Committee warns party faithful of the threat that the new Apple iPhone5 presents to their Party capturing the White House in November. “…it is imperative that we (party leaders) discourage the purchase nationwide… of the  eyePhone Five (sic) ..” the memo goes on to explain that increased sales of the new smart phone could help “bolster the economy, help create and sustain jobs, ..exactly when we need to tamp-down voter and consumer confidence in a re-covering economy.” The top-secret memo reflects recent predictions from sources such as a JP Morgan economist (referenced recently in a Sept. 16 New York Times article) who said that the new iPhone “could add one-quarter to one-half a percentage point to 4th quarter annualized growth in the gross domestic product.”
The memo, possibly written by something, a computer program, or someone named a “Reince Priebus” ( which could be a code name .. Anagram is: 
I spurn ice beer?) goes on to discourage Republicans from purchasing the  “eyephone” (sic) until after the November election…it is crucial to our success in November that the public perceives the economy to be wallowing and stagnating in a morass of Democrat/ Liberal/Socialist apologetic apathy… sales of this new-fangled Apple ei-phone must be stopped.”

What’s Missing Here?

Barack Obama wants keep his job as President of the U. S. He made this clear last night with a speech that was both visionary, human, humble, aspirational but not especially inspiring.  Last week the former Governor of Massachusetts Mitt Romney accepted his party’s nomination as if he were accepting a multi-million dollar bonus from his board of directors. In comparison to The President’s speech Massachusetts Governor Mitt’s speech was perfunctory, straight, bloodless and boring. “I accept… thank you…elect me, cut my taxes even more, god bless America.”

Obama laid out his accomplishments, (although Bill Clinton did a better job of that a couple of night ago), told us why it’s a good idea to re-elect him, shared some specific plans, tried to set some national goals (train 2 million future workers) talked about our current wars (because Massachusetts Mitt failed to even mention war), repeated his multi-source renewable and non-renewable energy plans even giving a shout-out to “clean coal,” (you listening West-By-Gawd-Virginia?), and mentioned, yes, The Almighty…God! The total package of words and ideas were delivered with strong oratorical passion and sincerity. 
But still, something was missing. Maybe it was a clear laid-out challenge to create a national jobs program, similar to FDR’s Civilian Conservation Corps (CCD); maybe it was the lack of a bold government jobs stimulus plan that would shock the Republicans, lay down the gauntlet and say to the American people that these are tough times that require tough measures. America’s infrastructure needs to be repaired: bridges, roads, electrical grid, the nation’s internet backbone needs to be brought up to the speed that most countries already enjoy.  America’s education system needs repair, student loan obligations need to be reduced. Big government money to put America back on its feet. The ultimate challenge to the Republican plan to make the rich richer so they can gorge on more cake and spill crumbs for the rest of us. 
With today’s anemic jobs report Obama should have laid it all on the table..a now or never challenge, bold, risky yet full of the hope and change he once promised.

Call Them Out

Call Them Out
Brave words, words that we  needed to hear have been spoken during the first 2 nights of the Democratic National Convention.  I’ve heard endorsements of equal pay for equal work and praise for the end of “don’t ask, don’t tell,” in the military. I have been gratified by speeches from supporters of  a woman’s right to choose how she will handle her pregnancy, and of a gay person’s right to choose whom they will marry. President Clinton tonight spoke the hard truths that a Romney-Ryan reign will bring us. 
But who will be courageous enough to speak out against Republicans’ veiled racist attacks against President Obama?  
Am I the only one who heard Republicans’ subtle emphasis–throughout their convention–on the first word of our country’s residence for the President? “The WHITE House,” speaker after speaker repeatedly said, as if from scripts signaling to all bigots that they share their prejudice and intolerance. The WHITE House.  
It’s time to call them out, to call out that yes, we hear what you are saying and yes we know exactly what you mean. 
When Clint Eastwood said so viciously at his surprise convention appearance last week “Look here: We own this country” how many of us cringed as we saw thousands of white people leap to their feet and roar with furious delight?  One does not have to have ears tuned for racial insensitivities to understand the  sickening subtext of a near hysterical non-diverse mono-cultural mass of people shouting in repeating unison “We (White People) own this country.”   

That’s not exactly what they said. But that’s what they meant.