Saturday, July 1, 2017

Reason - What a Concept!

" … there is no collusion between certainly myself and my campaign, but I can always speak for myself - and the Russians, zero." -D.J. Trump-

When words are applied in Orwellian ways, one may freely parse.

Also, if there were a sin tax on his syntax, he'd owe so much money. Believe me. A lot of good folks are saying this.

He categorically denies any collusion but qualifies it in such a way that anyone who is hurled under the bus as a stopgap measure anytime in the future will have blindsided him with their violation of trust, such as. We'll have to see if that's resolved by season three, god help us. Meanwhile: a tweet?!

We're told there are people still believing one word from this man. I don't get it, but I'm an unapologetic sentient.

Better healthcare with lower cost (campaign trail) has become repeal the ACA with no forethought or afterthought (something to chew on over the long holiday weekend). Promises to 'replace with something much better' has morphed into a predicted 32 million put squarely back into that haves and haves not situation like the before-time as the haves dip into this new pool of money as if it were their entitlement.

Is it a game among them to clear the most loot each year? 

So what do we do about it? Republicans have a branding problem, but hardly as damaging as if Coca Cola had stuck with New Coke. They have that ability to react to anything you put to them or that befalls them such that they always mount a comeback. One year's Heritage Foundation idea to derail universal coverage (Hillary-Care) has become that pot of money which can be raided, post-demonization.

Just as with Trump's cohort, Republicans' self interest is gratifying their donors under the guise of something terrific that you're really gonna love because freedom. They have resented Franklin Delano Roosevelt with the institutional memories of elephants.

So there's one thing we could do about it: put them in a chain gang and parade them through the FDR Memorial. Panel by panel. Sculpture by sculpture. Written in that green patina that will never accompany their legacies: “We had to struggle with the old enemies of peace--business and financial monopoly, speculation, reckless banking, class antagonism, sectionalism, war profiteering. They had begun to consider the Government of the United States as a mere appendage to their own affairs. We know now that Government by organized money is just as dangerous as Government by organized mob.”

One could argue we now have both.

The savvy reader has fleshed out thing 2, 3, 4 and 5 by now because, you know, sentience. Though I'll bet a week's wages they involve actual meanings for words.

Here in Oregon, I'm lucky to have a triumvirate  of representatives who vote as I wish them to. It's fruitless and also a denial of service to try to reach the office of anyone else, so I don't. We can only hope those skeevy ones who fill up those committee rooms in 3 banks of 17 get an earful from within their constituencies. And sooner is better.

If the recent town halls were as foreshadowing and genuine as they felt from afar, falling in line with leadership may no longer seem so attractive as 2018 looms. It's a long slog to wait for 'Republican' to be seen as toxic as 'New Coke' to the once loyal voter base, but fear of it may be the only tonic.

Factor in as well that this whirlwind of self-interest isn't meant to include us, so if any one of you says this assault on the republic, domestic or foreign, has some merit here or there, I'm calling Stockholm Syndrome.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Correlating Anti-Intellectualism with Ignorance

It's a science thing

I'm going to do something this Saturday that I haven't done since the Vietnam War days. I've got my sign and we will make our way to the county courthouse by 1:00. After a half hour of rallying, as folks get parked and form a random file line, there's a march toward campus and then back to the city's Central Park for a lengthier rally. Not having an area of scientific expertise to add to the demographic, I registered as a "science enthusiast." Happy Earth Day and long live the scientific method.
See you there

Monday, March 13, 2017

All Roads Lead to Kent State


"They" have too much invested

It's not that we tax. It's not that we spend. But if you lump them together, whoa, boy howdy you got yourself an epithet. If you're so disposed.

As many the savvy reader might recognize from experience, there's a blend of disbelief and PTSD in the days' events. This just in: to save just shy of 34B (with a B) annually, "they" are going to throw north of 24 M (7.5%) citizens back to the dark ages of everything the ACA tried with some success to remedy.

When what would make it even better, if one were so disposed one must hastily add, is removing profit motive from health care, period.

Like in the civilized nations.

So will Trumpites hire a Blackwater/Academi type goon squad to handle the inevitable protests in the streets, growing in number exponentially as all but a select few exceptions within the demographics gets the message that they've been had? Will it be the National Guard doing Trump's dirty work?

Hey Paul Ryan: why so rammy crammy down our throats overnight in a brown paper sack, huh? You will pay for this anyway someday, unless you try to take away the vote, then god save the republic. (Wait - you already do. I forgot.) Rephrasing c-a-l-c-u-l-a-t-i-n-g ... unless you try to take away the vote from consequential citizens. Ones whose civilization can't be replenished with someone else's babies.*

"They" have too much invested in controlling the conversation. Steve King is protected by the "calling someone a racist is racist" amendment to the LaPierre/Norquist Accords of 2010? you might ask yourself; and the sad truth is: yes. Immune as a racoon with a macaroon in a spittoon. (Put in a way which will give those with a vested interest in recording the events of the day at the White House the chuckle they so eminently crave.)

There is a hostage situation in the suspension of disbelief department.

"They" ought to stop speaking for "all Americans"  

Let's review. With a 42.1% tally, non-voters won the 2016 election. Hillary Clinton convinced 27.9% of eligible voters to vote for her, while Donnie Tic-Tacs'® 26.7% was the yugest, most terrific, ever. Many people still bring it up to curry favor. The Republican Party, in its ambition to enact today and damn the torpedoes, has tipped its hand. It still speaks for greed and has a not insignificant following which believes its slice will come along soon. The rest are r-u-b-e-s. (76 many rubes.)

So 73.3% of folks aren't invested in what they're told the emperor is wearing if he's naked. They will call a naked emperor a naked emperor.


Mussolini pose
Look, I Sharpied® up a storm
Sign, sign, sign, sign, sign

Steve King @SteveKingIA
Wilders understands that culture and demographics are our destiny. We can't restore our civilization with somebody else's babies. 

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

PREMISE: We Get to Take Back One Word


Friends Railing at the TV Machine is Like a Warm Binky

The resistance is to be waged on many fronts simultaneously, not roam from this lion-killing-happy dentist over here to some ruthless African warlord there, from an emotionally charged faith in the best ideas, to being played for chumps by false-flag trolls; sequential interest in the body politic by meme and hashtag is over.

Or it needs to be, pronto.

Because the change you can't whip up in just one election cycle is 'job one' after a crushing turn of events such as we have witnessed. I reflect on election 2016 first and foremost with the thought of what was the McGuffin in the room?

Period, to borrow some Sean Spicer. To suggest a word to put back in the lexicon from where it has been co-opted, just one, it is to have a wish list too big for the frame.

The candidates were as different as a good education with a public life of service to boot and Chance the gardener melding with high society as it re-named him Chauncey. Words from the campaign will have their day, even losing any prophecy, but it's always going to be uphill to reach the half who couldn't care less about voting. Silent Majority (my aunt Fanny) is too many words for the premise, and not eligible for any further co-option than its original meaning and utility.


So It Wasn't "Silent Majority?"

When looking back, pick a story line; then follow it from birth to death. Like how the president with an asterisk would scuttle any reportorial probe into his once rabid birther-ism. This was 2015, sweet Jesus, and he laid down the formula with an "excu-u-use me" here and a palm push there.

Why did Katy Tur of MSNBC back down from her line of questioning? The tapes are there. Men gone to Hawaii - amazing what they were finding - and now it's bluster, space invading and interrupting?

There's a really good one word hiding in this and countless similar anecdotes: access.

It extends throughout the entire campaign. End on an up note when you can. A "leave it right there" is as good as a "thanks for coming on" to a Chuck Todd wannabe. You'll always be welcome to repeat this monkey show whenever. However, that one word access isn't nefarious for its semantics; we can undo the reliance on it without the discipline required for a quitting smoker's triggers - just stop coveting it, for crying out loud.


Your Editor Has Stopped Giving You the Stretch Sign

A word more co-opted than even journalism which can often mean one-time journalists now employed by media is the one I want back.

Don't call anyone reporter without two sources and an editor.

It's a little like two wraps and a hooey to my country cousins, because the judges (We, the People) will disqualify you without it. That's the word I want nobody to trespass. Not Frank Luntz, not Joe Scarborough, not Breitbart/Bannon, not a single member of a press corps more aptly referred to as a media gaggle.

Journalism, irrespective of the crap we're supposed to accomodate in the name of the modern, the hip, the happening, is built from reporting. Bra ads are down the hall to the left, but in here, editors are at work corralling reporters into honest reporting. We need that, he said with the understatement of a much older and crankier old dude.

Now the confusion comes with this here media thing. Trumps says media dishonest. Well, some might just be. But I don't give a crap. Media got us here, true, but they have no power to get us back. Only to sell us more soap, got me? Only facts will suffice and good humor enough not to hold a grudge. One is the province of an institution with a constitutional mention; the other is evidence of the need to be placed in one.

For the facts, you had better seek out a reporter. (Ask your grandpa.) When it comes to the other, try not to go viral, 'kay?  

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Of Course We'll Get Fooled Again

Finding Acceptance


To the kids out there: you get to be my age, moving house is one of the hardest things you can do. 

Especially when you're closing out 35 years in your owner-built home at 8,000' in the southern Rockies and trading it in for a house in a town 1500 miles away, with a yard and everything. Sure, my old desk is here at the new digs, and now I have one of those laptop thingies so anywhere can be my desk I suppose, but did I mention old?  

Savvy readers have noticed the absence of fresh writings here since mid-July, when in an hardly rare outburst of braggadocio I stated that "(y)ou need a pajama-wearing guitar player pundit sometimes, I've often found, to vigorously clench the scimitar of the obvious, and at that I remain your humble servant." Then I took 5 months off to move and get settled, neglecting those very needs for which inflated self-importance serves me in good stead as muse and confidant. But enough about me. How about you? Did you miss me? 

I have managed to work through the stages of grief in the interim. For those who hadn't yet grieved from MSNBC lovin' the escalator in May 2015 to Trumpism usurping airtime away from reportage and thoughtful analysis to the tune of millions in free advertising, from the fervor of red hatted brownshirts to the stench of Tea Party redux - if somehow, after all the shrugging off of flaw after flaw one was still able to avoid an iota of grief for one's country, Donald Trump's ascendancy allowed no such quarter as denial. 

And November 9 was an angry day, not that Bernie purism and Priebus apologism hadn't already popped steam from the ear canals, but America trading in the 2nd chance it so didn't deserve after Bush, Cheney and the bubble's recession: that was assault. The depths to which they will go to see us liberals dance like ice cubes on the flat top - that really pissed me off. And I don't need a red hat, just the longest finger. 

Now the electoral college has returned to the dimly lit round-tables of academia and with it goes any hope of removing Trump without handing the keys to Mike Pence and it has dragged into oblivion the postulations and alternative realities that can't now be fact, nor part of this new deal. Bargaining has been short lived.

For those of us who were 21 in '69, the last couple of months have been a repudiation of the slack we cut our fellow citizens when we said they couldn't be that stupid. Which in turn means who's stupid now? So yes, I'd say that could bring a person down, harsh a buzz, lead to 13 weeks of all day drinking. Maybe just give up entirely and learn to love video gaming. Take up Facebook and collect "likes" in some sort of twisted quid pro quo. Tweet, while resisting the urge to use exactly 140 characters every time. 

Now that's pure hellscape. 

Which brings us up to this morning. I didn't plan on hiatus; it just kinda happened. I've thrashed privately, exceeded the curbside glass recycling tub to where it never all gets picked up and thought about trading in cozy anonymity for the chance to go viral, like 110 million of my closest "friends." 

I had gone all Rip Van Winkle during the horse race we like to call our "Candidates Showcase Showdown" and watched as everybody "came on down" and now we're stuck with the least qualified human for most jobs anywhere, let alone president, and a cadre of tentacles and Koch suckers. 

Believe me. More than a few people are saying this. 

But I woke up surprisingly calm. 

I know my place in this. Not bomb throwing, though the appropriate spitball here and there seems inevitable. Not willful ignorance, for then I have become my enemy. Not anarchy, for a nation of laws not men is far superior. 

But I do feel a fight coming on and have been given that rare, umpteenth chance. 

This time I will do better at being the loyal opposition. I can accept that.