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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.
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
Caused us plenty
Of rueing and stewing
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
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
To run the land
The art of the Ukrainian Shakedown.
In the gaslighting
Progressive New Green Deal Fighting
A fever festered
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
Of unintended consequence
And unchecked Woke-ism
A Liberal schism
Incensed at the insensitive nation
Of Inquisitors at the
With murder hornets
The social fabric
Torn it. Now mourn it.
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
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
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
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
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.
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.
By maskless protesters’ destructive rampage
Damaged and shattered
Any vestige of the message
That Black Lives Mattered.
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
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
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
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
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
The Looney Looney Looney Bugs Bunny Movie
Take This Job and Shove It
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 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?
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.
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.
Read this column by Chicago Tribune columnist Rex Huppke!
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 !
Here’s my Apple Music playlist of songs for a pandemic. You’re welcome!
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.
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.
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.
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:
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.
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 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.
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.
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
Grab their guns
Cancel student debt
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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
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?”
2018 INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK
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
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
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
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
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
Not needed anymore.
There’s old Sears, née Roebuck
Once an amazon now out of luck.
Voter rights a party Casualty
Come back soon
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
In his salad days
His fate to die
Stabbed in the gut
The unkindest cut
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
From the weight
Of Rooskies Hacking
They set the bait
And now we’re gagging.
The wagon waits
Collecting guests who
At border kids in a cage.
We sought the sheriff
But have not caught
As the one
With the “smocking” gun.
The party’s finished
But the fun continues
Dining, dancing, undiminished
While on the menus
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
Outside the gates
That hate abates
Scheduled so routine
Emotional Support AR15s
Top The Best Seller List
For American white male terrorists.
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.
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
Came across this “Liberalism is all about control” post on social media recently. Probably from a Russian troll. My response below this.
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.”
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.
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.
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."
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.
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.
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.
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."
"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."
"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.
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?
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.
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.
Praajek’s blog has moved and is transitioning to my new blog: Mediaize. Check back for updates. Meanwhile all of Praajek’s previous blog posts are right here on Mediaize. Look forward to mediaizing with you.
- 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.
(With apologies to E.A. Poe)
Once upon a midnight dreary, while Trump pondered leaks
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
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
’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.”
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.
|Barrack Hussain Obama, 44th President|
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.
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.
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).
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…
More like this and not like this at: praajek.com
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?)
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.
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.
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: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=124494788
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: http://www.praajek.com
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.
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.
On Day One….first day in office..
Most popular new baby boy name among Teabagger Republicans: Atticus.
Dead “FareThee Well” Last Concert Inspires Them to Keep on Truckin’…new Concert Dates Announced !
Ban it & Burn It.
My Speech to 2015 College Grads
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.
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
Hoarders and Lorders
First Class boarders
While the 99
Settled-in Pharelly Happy
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
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
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
The Foxes saw
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.”
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,
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
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.
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
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:
‘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 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.
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.
Did NFL Cheerleaders Really Protest this Way? NFL Cheerleaders – Minimum Wagers in $9.5 Billion Industry…As NFL cheerleaders file fair wage lawsuits against their teams maybe they could add a little visual protest to Football in America over their $5 per hour wages while also protesting domestic violence. Something like this?
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.
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.
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.
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.)….praajek.com
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.
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.
Eyes Only – 2013 – The Movie
Like slow Netflix streaming
2013 kept us
That maybe we should have
On the digital cutting room Floor.
Deja vu it sure seems
We’ve seen this movie before.
A sluggish economy
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-
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,
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
And twerking their OS’s Onscreen with foam fingers
Their bungholes wiping.
In a crucial scene
From beds to bath
And bongs beyond
Our meds and wrath
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
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
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
Satisfied our pain with
Not much action on the set
Instead a fiscal cliff-hanger
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
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
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.”
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.
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.
Miley…The Genius of America
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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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?
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
|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.
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…)
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.)
|Me Testing My New Google Glass|
|New Google Glass Prototype|
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
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
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
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?
Pass the “No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act”.
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.
Instead of a handshake at start of debate O must give Romney a noogie & a wedgie.
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.
1. Support for the public display of the Ten Commandments. (Comment: display at all Wall Street brokerage houses and major banks)
Every day (well, some days) thru the conclusion of the Republican Convention Praajek reveals top-secret Romney policy plans that were recently revealed in my sleep by an Angel named Dudeini. He deposited at the foot of my bed a Golden Tax Return upon which is etched an outline of how a Romney Administration plans to rule America.
|Alfred E. Ryan|
A crazy person buys assault rifles and handguns. Goes to a public place and shoots everyone he can. Nation registers shock. NRA goes silent. Requisite front page photos of victims' families crying, hugging each other. Killer is identified and given a middle name. (all killers must have their middle name named). Drawings of the killing scene choreographed and detailed .. Killer enters here; victim # one shot here.. Killer exits here… Arrested or kills himself at this spot. President calls for day of prayer. Killers life story captured by friends & acquaintances. Police bolster security in public places similar to crime scene. Some public officials call for stronger (any?) gun controls. NRA says guns don't kill people or something stupid like that. Flowers & teddy bears line site of killings. Victims buried. Apprehended killing suspect jailed awaiting trial. Later found guilty. Sentenced to life in prison or executed. Life goes on in the American world of easy guns. Next crazy person buys assault rifle, handguns, etc. Killing starts over. NRA hauls in more money to ensure the killing continues.
—not The End—