Category Archives: pop culture wars

So–Who Else Could Trump Assassinate Besides Comey? Duck Mr. Sessions!


If, as Court Jester Rudy Giuliani claims, president Trump could shoot James Comey and not be indicted, who else might be eligible for our twitchy president to prosecute with a bullet?

Jeff Sessions, you’d better borrow a couple of EPA chief Scott Pruitt’s supernumerary bodyguards.  Because, not to be rude but,  I think you’re at the top of the Trump “I could shoot him and not get indicted” list. The guy’s the loosest cannon ever in the White House so maybe you shouldn’t press your luck with him.

You might want to skip those cabinet meetings  Mr. Sessions.

And, BTW, never sit with your back to a window or a door. Your boss has a bit of a problem with impulse control.  And he’s buddies with some ruthless dictators.

Just sayin’.

Advertisements

Trump Would Have Run In and Taken Out the Parkland Shooter? Seriously?


Since we’ve all seen that the best pace our tubby president can muster is a slow waddle, his boast is only partly plausible.  Assuming that he’d been there and actually taken any part in an attempted rescue of the children under attack in Parkland, I think it would have played out something like this.

The most charitable interpretation of what Trump might have done had he been near the massacre is that he’d have charged along on his golf cart, and maybe–maybe–waddled down a hallway or two looking for an elevator rather than taking the stairs, (out of the question).  Then, exhausted, he’d have slumped against a wall wheezing from the effort of walking any farther from his golf cart than his usual distance.  That would normally be between his cart and where his ball lies on a fairway or green.

Of course, he’s never demonstrated a scintilla of courage in all the years he’s been braying on our TV screens, long before the Russians put him up to running for president.  (Coercion or bribery, inquiring minds want to know–but no icky details, please.  Some of us have weak stomachs.)  So it seems improbable that he would have done a damn thing.

But he would have said he did.  In his demented brain the two are seemingly the same.   (What really happened and what he said–after the fact– happened would not, in a million, billion years actually be the same. )

Yeah, I can see him zipping along in his golf cart, hair flying, bald spot showing, rolls of fat jiggling, racing away from any possible danger as quickly as possible.   Just like Fearless Leader of Rocky and Bullwinkle fame, our cartoon of a president would have made us laugh.

Or would have if it weren’t for the gruesome fact that real children were dying, their internal organs and bones being blown apart because no one–NO ONE–except the brave Coral Springs police officers, a few teachers, and the children themselves showed any courage at all during the horrific tragedy.

So zip it Mr president.  At this point we’d all probably be satisfied if you would just stop fooling around, tweeting, bragging, stuffing your face with KFC and Big Macs, and actually put in a day or two of actual work at your job.

But we know that’s not gonna happen.

Who Wants to Harm FBI? Criminals, That’s Who. D-u-u-uh!


Yeah, it’s not rocket science.  The FBI protects us all–from some really bad, bad stuff.  So why would President “Fat Donnie” want to kneecap the agency?

Years ago I used to fence saber against an FBI agent–generally unsuccessfully.  We never discussed politics, religion, his work, my work, or anything else very much.  We just fenced saber, sometimes in parking lots if there wasn’t any better venue available.   I had to get an elbow guard because his damn passing attacks were just beyond me to stop or even partly parry.  No quarter was given or expected.  It was more like street fighting than fencing.  That whole “right of way” stuff was by the boards.  It was more like “kill or be killed”.

It was brutal.  And fun!

And it was helpful in one notable incident.  Some street thug came up and threatened me in St. Thomas when I was carrying one of those collapsible umbrellas that you can put in your briefcase.  This thug had just followed six St. John women down the waterfront, screaming abuse and threatening them.  So I followed him because it looked as if things might get out of hand.  (Those dumb women were just encouraging him by fleeing and acting scared.)

They scooted into a coffee shop and the guy turned around and saw me.  He started getting in my face.  So I gave him two quick, hard saber cuts across the face with the collapsed umbrella.  It had to hurt, but it wouldn’t really do any damage.  That shut him the hell up.  It was the last time he bothered any of us St. John commuters when we got off the downtown ferry.

But one time my FBI fencing opponent  did say “You think you know what bad is.  You don’t.  And you don’t want to know.”

I believed him.

There was a secret obstacle course up in the hills of St. John that another local athlete had set up specifically for extreme training.  He said FBI agents from Puerto Rico worked out there.  He introduced me to a couple.  One day I was in the gym in St. Thomas lifting weights.  I walked into another room & these guys were lifting enormous poundage.  No one else was in the room and one of them said quietly “Nobody knows who we are here”.  I knew what he meant, didn’t speak or even pause, just turned around and walked out and did toe raises on a different machine instead.  Whenever I saw them around I never spoke, looked at them or away from them, just did not in any way betray that I’d even seen them.  Because I knew they probably weren’t on vacation.  They were working–on serious stuff.

The Caribbean’s a real dangerous place.  All of these FBI guys were the kind you’d be glad to have in your foxhole–if you weren’t a coward or dead weight as far as fighting capability.  I wouldn’t want them in my foxhole if I was a f–k-up though.  They seemed like the kind of guys who might toss you out if you couldn’t hold up your end of the foxhole.  These were clearly very dangerous people.

I mention this because the sliming, derision, and maltreatment of the elite law enforcement agency, the FBI, by Fat Donnie Trump, mini-him Jeff Sessions and other Russian apparatchiks is doing great harm to all of us.  Not to mention, it’s sooooo lowdown.  They do not deserve this s–t.

To digress for a moment–even though I’m told that Jeff Sessions is actually the Keebler elf, I think he’s more like an orc that was once an elf until evil got its hooks into his tiny carcass.

Sessions seems intent on incarcerating and/or destroying anyone who purveys, profits from, or benefits from legal medical (or legal recreational) marijuana.

Why?   The obvious answer would be that Sesions wants to help Mexican drug lords protect their profits from illegal weed.  And they want to help him limit legal alternatives to their illegal products.  Just how much do “we the rabble” know about where and from whom Jeff Sessions got campaign donations when he was foolishly running for president.   (Even our eclectic voters had to know the country would never hold still for being governed by another species.  Sorry, no orcs for president.)

What other logical reason presents itself?  How hard would it be for those vicious drug cartels to funnel donations to the little weasel?   Does Sessions seem like the kind of guy to turn his nose up at the prospect of wads of dirty cash?  He’s a beggar from a beggar state that the rest of us subsidize to the tune of $2.46 for every dollar of federal tax revenue from Alabama.  Having one’s hand out is a way of life there.  You do the math.

And Trump and the rest of his Russian-financed cabal, uh, I mean consultants, seem more determined to get rid of anyone who stands between him and a willing patsy who would fire Robert Mueller to put an end to his investigation of Fat Donnie’s favors from Putin.

Was Fat Donnie was doing something more troublesome in Russia than having prostitutes pee on him?  Like, oh, say, mega money laundering maybe?

The FBI badasses–and they are that, despite their buzzcut hair styles and 1950’s dress code–are desperately trying to keep the likes of Fat Donnie and his apparatchiks from dismantling our democracy forever.  They have their hands full just trying to keep track of all the hoodlums in the White House and in Fat Donnie’s circle of questionable cohorts.

My hypothesis is that Putin bought outright or extorted Fat Donnie to run for president.  Fat Donnie’s his man, bought and paid for.  He was specifically recruited by Putin, who helped him get elected, for the purpose of damaging our democracy and thus limiting the power of Putin’s most powerful opponent.  At least that’s my working hypothesis.  (I suppose I could possibly be wrong.)

And, I think maybe real law enforcement men like Robert Mueller and the FBI agents (AKA real men) are Fat Donnie’s worst nightmare.  He can’t slime them out of the picture as he does most of his enemies.  He can’t lie them away, he can’t buy them off.  They are dogged and relentless and they know the difference between real facts and truth from made up BS peddled by our decidedly unmanly, waddling president, Fat Donnie.

You can blow all the farts out of your mouth that you want Fat Donnie, it won’t save you.  Real men (and women) of the FBI are comin’ for you and the rest of the crooks.

My money’s on them for finding the truth.  Who knows, truth might even be stranger than fiction.  Maybe Fat Donnie will be exonerated.  But I doubt it.

Whose side are Fat Donnie and Sessions the Keebler Orc on?  Not “we the rabble” that’s for sure.

Why KKK Folks Choose to Wear Dunce Caps


It’s always been something of a mystery why any group would voluntarily
pick dunce caps as part of their official uniform. But the KKK chose
long ago to include that traditional insignia of stupidity as emblematic of
their beliefs and world view.

Now, after the last few days, it’s obvious why they made that choice. They revere ignorance, stupidity and brainless violence.  They celebrate it.  They obviously want to present themselves to the world as dummies and dunces because they are proud of it.

Nothing says “duh, I’m an idiot” like voluntarily wearing dunce caps–in public no less.  It sends a message all right–that is, that they like being dumb and ignorant. They don’t just approve it, they actually applaud it.  They work at it.

Here in America I suspect that under normal circumstances the KKK has
nothing to do with most of our lives.  Their kind of living isn’t even on our
collective radar screen.  Or at least it wasn’t until the last few days.

That’s changed.  They have pushed their unwanted, ugly ways into our
lives.

When the KKK’s demented knuckledraggers say they “will take back our country” what they really mean is that they want to take our country, and the values “we the rabble” hold dear, away from us.

Too bad.  It’s not “their” country to take.  It belongs to all of us, whether they like it or not.

F–k them!  They can’t have what belongs to all of us.  Maybe we’re the ones who should “take back our country” from the altRight, the nazis and the KKK.   Maybe they need to find someplace else to practice their backwards ways.  Maybe we should confine them somewhere so they can’t continue disrupting and infecting our public life.

I hear Alcatraz is empty, and difficult to escape.

There ya go KKK boys and girls. I’ve found the perfect spot for you.

No, no, don’t thank me.  Glad to be of help.  Now, please–leave!

And BTW, KKK, Jesus does NOT love you.

What would Jesus say?  “Crush them like the icky bugs they are..”

 

All Reality Is Not Virtual


As a committed post-modern dinosaur, I have never tweeted, been on
facebook, LinkdedIn, reddit, or any other social media site. There are no
apps, devices or any other means of “syncing” an information flow in my
world.  My laptop is the whole ball of wax, device-wise.  I know not of
interacting online with groups of people. I just don’t get it.  But, clearly,
time has passed me by and I am officially irrelevant.

Twitter wars and their prominence among “news” stories in the media seem
mystifying.  Reading or watching stories about this phenomenon also seem
pretty funny.  All these characters with their thumbs flying, being egged on
by “news” reports, conjure up an image of a bunch of weenies engaging in
what amounts to electronic slap fights.  Hunched over their tiny devices, do
those engaging in the exercise actually believe it is the equivalent of some
sort of gladiatorial warfare?  I think they do.

Forget it folks, you’re not Russell Crowe, you’re Arnold Stang.

Tip: your busy thumbs are not the full extent of your physical
capabilities. You can get up and walk, talk to live humans in person, see
“real” things with your “real” eyes, feel the sun and wind, experience “real”
life firsthand.  Yeah, it’s kind of uncomfortable, but, probably good for ya.

See, if you’re confining yourself to virtual reality, your non-virtual
musculature and body parts are withering from lack of use and exercise. Your
overly active imaginations, seeing yourselves as some sort of latter day
cultural warriors are a bit over the top.  Okay, delusional.  There is such a
thing as “real” reality y’know.

It all seems hilarious to me, but with a looming downside which is apt to
wind up affecting all of us, including the ones who don’t tweet or who have
thoughts which won’t fit into 140 characters. People seem overly focused
on what’s being said on Twitter. The lazy media, too slack to actually go
out and find real news to report–well except for Richard Engel, Ben Weideman, Ivan Watson, et. al.–can just open up their devices, have a donut
peck out a thin story about what other people are doing in 140 characters,
and think they’ve reported the news.

I actually saw one of the former Fox News blondes, in full raccoon-eye
makeup, say recently, with the most earnest look, that “When the President
tweets, we have to report on it.”  No. You don’t. “News” is not confined to
what comes out of Donald Trump’s thumbs or mouth. Stuff is
happening–important stuff–out in the “real” world. If you work for a news
media organization, you and your colleagues are supposed to be telling the
rest of us about it.

And the putative “news” cable channels are ridiculous. MSNBC runs
non-stop Lock-up programs on the weekends, presumably because “real”
news doesn’t actually happen on weekends. CNN similarly doesn’t do
much live reporting on the weekends.  Possibly it’s because the “reporters”
don’t work weekends. But if you want your media company to be considered a
news organization, then you actually have to report real “news”.  Trust me,
there’s lots going on in the real world on weekends, despite what cable
news channel programmers think.

MSNBC also hired a guy, Brian Williams, who was fired for lying, to do an alleged news show. Why? Somehow his presence on the roster is supposed to increase the network’s credibility as a news network!  How does that work?
Has Mr. Williams dropped his habit of lying?  Sorry, I’m not buying it.

CNN has a morning “news” anchor who’s just a Fox News re-tread yakking
it up five mornings a week. Sorry, I’m not interested in FoxNews’ sloppy
seconds. Don’t hire a media whore and trot her out as a serious journalist,
and expect me to forget what she did before.

The ancillary world of internet trolls is similarly mystifying. Aren’t they
just what we used to call busybodies? Perhaps we should more accurately refer to them as E-busybodies instead of trolls.

The whole notion of spending hours just looking for something to be pissed
off about seems pretty unhealthy. Long ago I decided, when being overly
critical of others, that I’ll try to hold off on that until I’ve perfected me.
There’s a ton of work to be done there, so I’m not holding my breath about
when I can get back to telling everyone else how they should live their lives
and what choices they should make.

Meanwhile, I see that our president is meeting with Vlad Putin this Friday.
What has Vlad been tweeting about lately? I’m all agog with curiosity.

I’m also wondering what future archaelogists will make of the skeleton remains of all the tweeters out there.  “There seems to have been a popular cult which flourished tens of thousands of years ago which focused on those with very large thumbs.  Perhaps that characteristic was considered as beauty.  At this point, we just don’t know but all indications are that genetic thumb mutations became a socially desirable physical attribute at some point in the past.  That culture disappeared and we can only conjecture what might have happened to wipe it out.”

 

Carpe Diem Young Journalists–Now Is Your Chance for Glory


I’ve been fretting for some time about how few opportunities there are for young journalists and journalism students to sink their chops into something really meaty and write about something meaningful.  In the first place they exist in a journalistic environment which is more froth than beer.   And, of course, if they are active journalists with a media outlet, they only get to work on what they are assigned rather than what they may want to pursue.  Puff pieces are the name of the game in the establishment media.

But recent events and the corrosive corruption which are exploding in our society’s public life present a rare opportunity for young millenial investigative journalists.  I’m hoping they’ll smell blood and pounce on the stories with the ferocity and energy which only the young have in abundance.  Their complacent elders are tiptoeing around and walking on eggs like fearful weenies, hamstrung by their bunker mentality.  Those old media whores are too chicken to do this.

Come on brave millenial journalists!  Young people are always supposed to long for glory and a chance to show what they’re made of.  Here’s your big chance.  I know you can sniff out the green, rotting meat of dangerous conditions and unworthy politicians undermining our democracy.  You know how to dig into real in-depth research.  You have the internet, where Woodward and Bernstein were limited to actual on-the-ground sleuthing.

This is some really ugly s— coming down in our governance.  Expose it.  Please. There are a ton of us out here who will be pulling for you, and cheering you on.

Go to it.  Because your flaccid, sedentary,  scaredy cat elders aren’t likely to do it.  They have kids and mortgages.  They play it safe.   You don’t have to.  Bare your fangs.  Un- sheath your claws.  Lay back your ears and raise your hackles. Dig, dig, dig until your paws are bleeding and your claws are broken and worn.

Here’s you chance for lasting journalistic glory.  You can do it!  I have the greatest confidence in your ability to rise to the occasion. (And the greatest scorn for your sissy journalist elders.)   Hup, hup get off your asses and jump into the fray for the truth.

We’re starving out here–for courage,  honesty, substance and real facts, instead of opinions.  Sink your fangs in, grab the truth by the throat and shake it until it stops shape-shifting.  Then drag it back to the cave, carve it up and serve it to a grateful nation.

Tillerson on TV Being Led on Leash by Russian Foreign Minister


So I saw the Russian Foreign Minister on TV with a Putin poodle, AKA
Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson. The Russian thug, Sergey Lavrov,
sneered at the media and copped an attitude then led Tillerson away on his
leash. I guess Tillerson hasn’t been completely trained yet because he was
at heel on the wrong side of Lavrov. Dogs at heel are supposed to walk quietly on
their lead slightly behind the left leg, not the right.

It’s okay Rex, you’ll get fully trained soon enough. Do ya miss your balls?

What an insult to the American people to have the surrogate for Trump’s
Russian master, Putin, treat our media like that in our own country.  I guess
the Russians don’t even need to pretend to be our equals anymore.  (Actually they have never been so in reality, only in their own estimation.)

I wish they’d go ahead and release the pics of Russian hookers peeing on
Trump (ick, no, double ick!) and get it over with.

Remember the book “Advise and Consent” (by Allen Drury) which had the
then-unthinkable premise that Russian agents had infiltrated the highest
levels of American politics and government?  I guess Vladimir Putin read it too.

Can you say “President Pence”? C’mon Congress, get on with the
impeachment. It’s not as if you’re busy doing anything except being on
vacation and dodging pissed off constituents.

BTW, where does the Tea Party stand on having our president bowing and
scraping to a damn brutal dictator, formerly head of the KGB?  What’s that
sound I hear? Why it’s scumbag Joseph McCarthy spinning in his grave.  (Which is actually a good thing.)

Remember that old book “None Dare Call It Treason” by some ultra right winger John Stormer?  It seemed ludicrous  back in the day.  Now, not so much.  People are starting to call Trump’s subservience to Putin treason.  For a reason.