Sounding off

Oh, Canada…

Canada, this week, decided the Proud Boys are a terrorist group, just like Al Qaeda and the Taliban.

It’s not going to happen here, not with men like Chuck Schumer’s and John Kerry’s steady hand on the tiller. We’ve become weak and cowardly nation because we allow weak and cowardly people to lead us.

I know this isn’t a popular opinion, but it’s mine.

Biden and Harris gives me some hope, Chuck & Co. are weak, their hand wringing and tweets about pool safety (the subject Schumer was talking about the day Trump and Putin were meeting in Helsinki) will give the corrupt, and even more cowardly GOP control of the house and senate again in 2022; Biden will again be emasculated by the likes of Mitch McConnell (a man who consistently wins re-election with a 16% approval rating in Kentucky).

You wonder how Trump happened? It was weak and cowardly opposition that allowed it. It was gerrymandering that allowed it. I’m as big a left-wing libtard as ever put on a pair of pants and I had to spit and swear when I voted for HRC—because there was NO choice.

The fact that Greene and Boebert are allowed to even be seated tells me the lower house is equally weak.

We didn’t get to this rathole we now live in by accident. It’s an attrition of courage. In 1953 the Rosenberg’s were executed for much less than the ‘Proud Boys’ pulled on January 6th 2021. I’m actually shocked Chuck spoke out at all.

“We get the government we deserve…”

November 1963

It feels a lot, tonight, like November 1963, and I have liver and onions and mashed potatoes sitting on my plate. I wasn’t eating any of that, and my father wasn’t letting me up from the table until I did, and the liver was stone cold. I learned the meaning of the word ‘stand-off’ in that little kitchen, in the little stone house by the muddy, weed-filled pond. It wasn’t a lake, dad; it was a goddamn mud-hole. We should settle that once and for all.

I’d sit there all night; I wasn’t touching that dinner, and my father wasn’t budging; he had the radio and his newspaper. He was in it for the duration. He called me ‘bullheaded,’ and I reminded him I was his son. We’d sit there, on these occasions, until maybe 8 pm, and we’d declare a draw, and I’d go to bed, better hungry than poisoned by cold mashed potatoes and liver.

My dad didn’t like Kennedy, but he didn’t want him dead either. He understood there was a line that couldn’t be crossed, and there were rules that had to be adhered to, like eating the food put before you, no matter how disgusting.

That day the slug blew off the back of Kennedy’s brain, I saw fear in my father for the first time. I was six, and the world turned dark and suddenly cold and frighteningly small that November Friday. I’m quite sure it was the first moment I felt his fear.

Cronkite cried, and Huntley and Brinkley reported on the tiny black and white TV.

I was born just before Sputnik went into space, but the spectacle of spacemen and heroic deeds of Gagarin and Glenn were lost on this day; I asked my dad if the Russians were coming again to kill us. I was six, dad, fucking six-years-old, and I remembered the missiles in Cuba, in 1962, we saw them on that same little TV, and I was scared then too, but this was a different scared. Besides, we’d been saved from the Soviets by Lieutenant Kennedy, and now half his skull was blown off and laying on the trunk lid of some big Lincoln Continental in Dallas. The teachers cried, and the principal cried, and on the way home, I saw a cop crying, and I was scared.

It was Saturday the next day, and I remember the fear in my sister’s eyes when she realized American Bandstand wasn’t going to be the little black and white TV that day, just talk of Soviets and Cubans and dead presidents.

Then the next day, Sunday, we went to church, and later that day, some guy named Ruby shot and killed Lee Harvey Oswald, the guy who everyone said was a Russian and who killed Lieutenant Kennedy. I was more confused than ever because all the Russians I’d ever heard of were named Khrushchev and Gagarin and Boris and Vladimir, not Lee Harvey Oswald, and I was still pretty scared about missiles from Cuba. I was scared because my sister was scared that American Bandstand might never be on again.

A couple of days later, Grandma came to our house, and we ate some turkey, and I was pretty sure, within days, there’d be a big picture of JFK up on the wall, above her piano, next to FDR and Jesus.

Later I went outside with my dad, and we put up some of those huge fire-hazard Christmas light bulbs purchased at a Woolworth’s somewhere in the late 1950s. Even though each of the three strands of bulbs my dad proudly owned had a big “UL” label—Underwriters Laboratory—that was supposed to convince me those big, hot bulbs wouldn’t burn the house down. It didn’t.

Dougie Hulseapple came by later that day, and we formed a plan to avenge the death of Lieutenant Kennedy because we both were scared of Soviets and bombs and Cubans and men named Ruby. It was getting dark way too early because it was November, so if there was any avenging to be done, we’d better get it done before dark when our moms with call us home.

It was like that in 1963 and feels a lot like I’m having liver and onions and mashed potatoes for dinner tonight too, and dad, it’s scary like that, and it still feels like the Russians are coming, and I think it’s going to be a long night.

American Taliban

Business across the country are boarded up, people have actually asked me if I think it’s safe to “be out” this week.

A quarter million of us are dead from an invisible killer, we wear masks and we are afraid to shake hands.

Marauding bands of self described Patriots, many heavily armed, are blocking traffic on roads all over the nation and intimidating voters.

The same elements that allowed the Christian Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, Cromwell’s brutality toward Ireland, slavery, apartheid, the rise of the Nazi party in 1930s Germany, the Taliban; all are still present in us.

When I see busses forced off the hi-way, and bridges blocked by pickups waving flags, their owners heavily armed, I realize not much has changed in the human psyche in 10,000 years.

We’ve not evolved, we’ve not learned a goddamn thing.

I’m fucking sick, to the point of wanting to puke, of all this winning…

#AmericanTaliban

The President of the United States

Did you all see the President of the United States yesterday tell the reporter to take off the mask? Yup… the reporter was asking for clarification for some freshly delivered low energy lie, and the President of the United States told him to take off his mask, almost mocking him for wearing it.

Trump likes to mock people, that’s what little bullies do. He doesn’t limit himself to mocking journalists with crippling disabilities, like he did in 2015, so I guess that’s a good thing.

His contempt for the free press should be enough for anyone to vote to remove him. Babies in cages, should have been enough. Storm troopers in our cities should have been enough. Stirring racial hate, should have been enough. Mocking that disabled journalist should have been enough. “Some very fine people,” should have been enough. Russian bounties on US service members should have been enough. Calling dead American soldiers losers should have been enough. The reaction to the hurricane in Puerto Rico should have been enough. The things he said about John McCain should have been enough. California on fire and the suggestion to sweep the forest floor should have been enough. Snorting Clorox and UV light up your ass should have been enough. Wanting to nuke hurricanes should have been enough. Pumping money to already rich corporations and calling it a middle class tax break should have been enough. 200,000 dead Americans and 6.5 million cases of Covid—and still out of control—should have been enough. His economy now in shambles—far worse than you realize right now—should have been enough. Trying to destroy and use the Post Office as a political tool, should be enough. The fact that this loose cannon has the nuke codes and could kill all of us, should be enough!

This list of his absurdities, many flat-out dangerous, is almost as long as his list of lies.

Enough…

E-Fucking-nough.

The President of the United States doesn’t give a shit about you, never did, never will. You are not on his MAGA train, you are his brainwashed, brain dead cult.

Your Booming Economy

Here’s a couple question are you patriotic Trump supporters need to ask yourselves. If the battery in your car dies today, does that $150 expense impact how your kids eat next week?

When you realize you need four new tires on the 20 year old F150, does that $800 expense present a financial crisis?

When the compressor goes in the refrigerator and you need to lay out $ 2000 for a new one, is that just a pain in the ass or does that break you? Do you need to turn to family or friend for a “loan,” you know cannot be repaid.

If any one of these three things present a real financial hardship to you, you need to ask yourself whose economy is doing so well? Is the stock market going to buy that new battery? Is trumps booming economy going to buy that new refrigerator?

The billionaires are doing well, how is YOUR economy doing?

I see so many of these ‘patriots’ a few thousand dollars from complete financial ruin, a case of appendicitis away from collapse still applauding the “booming economy.” If it wasn’t tragic it would be hilarious.