A Mile Away

If you don’t live in America, you might not have heard that women had their rights rescinded. Roe V. Wade, which made abortion legal in all the states, was just overturned today, with the ruling returning if women can legally control their own bodies or not over to the states. Um. So.

Something like twenty-eight states will outlaw abortion or the red states. The blue states will keep it legal. It boils down to if you live in a GOP [Grand Old Party[ or ‘red’ state or a Democrat-controlled state. They’re the blue team here. Your geography, as of today, if you’re a child-bearing age person, matters. It matters hugely. If you’re in, say, Louisiana, you are livestock of the state. If you’re in Oregon, you’re still a full citizen with your right to end an unwanted pregnancy, if you so choose, safely and legally.

However. If the GOP regain the House of Reps and the Senate, McConnell has stated on record that he will make abortion illegal at the FEDERAL level. So. Yeah. Those in blue states, you’re on thin ice here. You’re not safe from this shit if the Gross Old Perverts get their way in late fall. I hope you realize that. I hope it’s starting to sink in how fucking devastating this ruling is today.

There are myriad laws that…yeah, it’s a fucking nightmare of a mess here in my country today, for years now, actually. If I’m honest. trump got to place three extremist judges on the Supreme Court, picked out by Bitch McTurtleman or Mitch McConnell and the Federalist Society. Go look them up. Horrifying, ain’t they?

Of course, a lot of people saw all this coming A MILE AWAY.

And now, Clarence Thomas, of that whole Anita Hill and the pubic hair fame– go ahead, look up that one, too. Why is that thing on the highest court in America, for life and why why why do we have to suffer the efforts of his cult-ish wife who wants to install trumpie as king for life? Yeah. Okay. Thomas wants to ‘revisit’ all the cases that enabled, oh, same-sex-marriage, legal use of contraception [this helps cut down on the need for abortions, you fucking loons] and even interracial marriage…of which the Loving V State of Virginia case allowed Thomas to marry Ginni legally. Yeah.

It’s not just abortion rights.

It’s just the beginning of an actual attempt to build a real goddamn Gilead. That’s the society of the Handmaid’s Tale. Where only rich straight white guys have all the power and the women are chattel. It’s a horrifying dystopian what-the-fuck-could-never-happen-in-America sort of roller coaster ride…about twenty years ago. Right now, it feels like a documentary. One of really bad ones where you sit there with your fist stuffed in your mouth so you don’t scream the entire run time and startle your neighbors.

So, of course, leadership right now from the pro-choice side seems…flat as a pancake. Or an exercise in hand-wringing or averted eyes. A few are calling for protests. And getting immediately accused of inciting violence.

A further way to make sure the loss of rights, upheld for the last fifty years or so, doesn’t get much more push back than someone rolling their eyes very carefully.

As they deny they rolled their eyes at all because those on the right immediately go the attack 24/7 about how the left wants to kill all the judges, force your kids to become gay and take away all your free speeching, and bring in ‘illegal aliens’ to rape your wife, empty your bank account and…ugh.

I wish I were kidding about that tactic but, no.

See Madge T. Greene and her trying to frame AOC as inciting violence when AOC calls for protests, etc. Madge Greene is a far right GOP troll. She has no other function that I can tell. AOC is on the left, and a target because she actually tries to do stuff and things once in a while. Sigh.

This tactic, of accusing the left of being violent if they push back even a little against anything, works. It works. Suddenly the media is laser focused on anything remotely left-ish…sigh. All the actual violence and horror of the far right, which is becoming more and more mainstream in America, gets treated with kid gloves and a knocked over garbage can from anyone perceived as The Left gets treated like a murder spree in a child’s hospital wing. It’s just…yeah. Sigh.

It’s worse to protest the racists than to be one is the message here. It’s worse to speak up and out against whatever injustice or actual coup is going on or murder than to be the ones being racist, storming the capital or kneeling on a man’s neck for nine minutes.

It’s always the left, in America, that gets painted as the ‘violent’ ones as the right actually shoot people in the goddamn face or beat them with sticks or run over them in cars or stab them on trains or attempt to interrupt a Gay Pride event in Idaho with a cartload of weapons designed to kill those they find objectionable.

Where are the cities the left allegedly burnt down again? Or the people killed? Or…?

A mile away. People wouldn’t vote for the ButHerEmails lady so now we’re facing a grim, savage future where it’s okay to gun down school kids cause guns are a God-given right but a woman wanting to control her own body is a life sentence offence. If now actual grounds for her execution by the ‘pro-life’ crowd. Yeah, that’s proposed, too. If a woman gets an abortion, is that a death penalty worth offense? That’s an actual debate point right now…uh huh.

I am hoping people get mad enough to fight this. I am hoping people show up at the ballot box this November, despite the voter restrictions, gerrymandering and voter intimidation that will take place. Planned voter intimidation by those who think trump won in 2020.

I also hear for calls to ‘burn it all down’. Um, by those who could not bothered to show up to vote because they were not inspired by the left’s candidate/s. Why do these same folks think they will be able to rebuild a destroyed society? Or be the ones to do that? No no. It will be McConnell and his ilk that show up to do that, cupcakes. They’ve worked so hard for the chance to strip America for parts and slap a coat of Jesus on her. What makes you think any of that shit brigade would stand down as you argue over what color to paint the meeting room?

Yeah, I have little hope and a lot of contempt and some actual tears today. Hello darkness, my old/new friend. America is a backwards, savage, murderous place full of timid, comfortable sorts on the left who don’t like to make waves too much, calm down, it’s not that bad…versus rapid hyenas ready to bite and bite and bite until the screaming stops. And then keep biting because it’s all they know how to do. Other than install judges, win elections no matter what and ignore any wrongdoing as long as they win. Ethics be damned, baby.

I have no answers here. None. Sorry. I’m just…mmm. When do we call time of death? Will there be some sort of national push against this SCOTUSshit? Will we all be singing patriotic songs as each minority group gets criminalized in some way, some form? How soon until America turns into Trumpland? Is there any real fight left in my country?

Tired now.

Tired.

Snow Expected

The sky this morn

There’s snow forecast for my tiny neck of the woods. The sky appears appropriately cloudy. I hope it does snow. We need the moisture here. The local mountains have been hit pretty hard with the white slippery pretty stuff but nothing, so far, where I am. Boise got snow! Damn it!

Well, the celebratory mood, gone. Fizzled. God damn fucking orange coddled fuckwaffle. If this were any other person who’d just lost a major election, then refused to vacate…none of what’s being tolerated and shrugged off now would be tolerated or shrugged off.

If Obama had pulled this crap, Fox News and the GOP would have lined up to take turns hanging him from whatever tree they could find. If Hillary had dug in her lady  heels and gotten all hysterically I won I won gimme gimme…oh boy. Oh boy, would that have been something to behold in America.

Now, Biden won. He won. He and Harris will take over no matter what’s thrown at them…unless there’s an actual damn coup by Barr, orange fuckstick, McConnell and the rest of the toady GOPers. That’s being tried now. The voter fraud conspiracy!

I must focus on, oh, writing.

Oh that.

This all, too, shall pass, this current rotted pumpkin madness.

I am reworking the ending of my Odin and Jesus novel. To give it more of a punch, a kick, a boom. I want to write and work on this! WHAT THE HELL? I seem to be shaking off, a bit, of this strange not wanna write nothing spell some malignant demon flung at me on its way to whisper conspiracy hints in some broken-brained QAnon’s decaying skull organ.

I but jest. Sort of.

If you don’t know what QAnon is, please. Go and look it up. It’s a cult that’s growing, born from a hoax. No, the person behind all this admitted it was a hoax. And yet…here we are.

Writing! I’m supposed to be shilling my writing to those who might be interested and even those who slow down to gander at this train wreck of a blog.

So yes, reworking the ending. I think I will just pick a spot, start a new doc, see what happens. I have the ending, the last bit I am keeping for suresies. I think. Oh dear. Or am I ruining my tight little novel with…oh dear!

Yes, I would like to see how medieval cheese was made, Youtube. Yes, I would!

I found this channel on historical cooking and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. You get history and recipes! Score score!

Yes, I’m fine, I’m okay.

Waiting for the snow. Writing a bit and holding my breath as my country TREMBLES on some precipice akin to the Civil War or…something equally savaging. I do think…I don’t know, actually. I am just as lost as anyone else here, even those throwing out pat predictions this will all be fine or it will all be a clustermess of the highest order, grab your minivan and head for Canada.

I really like moose. I can learn to like hockey more than I do. I’d like to live on Prince Edward Island. Eh!

No Bleach

Yesterday, it was theorized that people try ingesting cleaning products to cure the virus having its way with America. Not to mention the other parts of the planet…Okay!

DO. NOT. DRINK. BLEACH.

It’s poisonous. It will cure the virus because you will be dead. But that’s rather extreme, dontcha think?

And sunlight? It also won’t do much more than give you a sunburn. Sorry.

So I saw all that flurry yesterday caused by these batshitteries and…

This is where we are now as a country? Debunking loony pronouncements by the POTUS that will actually kill people if followed? Yes, indeedy. That’s where we are. Been there for a while.

At Thursday’s White House coronavirus taskforce briefing, the US president discussed new government research on how the virus reacts to different temperatures, climates and surfaces.
“And then I see the disinfectant where it knocks it out in a minute,” Trump said. “One minute! And is there a way we can do something, by an injection inside or almost a cleaning? Because you see it gets in the lungs and it does a tremendous number on the lungs, so it’d be interesting to check that. So, that you’re going to have to use medical doctors with, but it sounds interesting to me.”

 

I couldn’t even begin to write something approaching the levels of WTF here. Fiction has to slink off and lick its wounds after trying to compete with the actuality of hey, inject or drink bleach, whaddya got to lose?

Sipping coffee, considering where to plant the rosemary, rejoicing that my bachelor button’s are sprouting, happy I got some cheap manure and generally in a spring frame of mind. Instead of, oh, writing. I did get off three submissions yesterday. I plan to write today, even if it’s just a paragraph. Bad habits lately, not writing lately, wonder why that is…mmm.

No, I can’t blame the VIRUS for my utter disinterest in writing. I get into cycles where I write a lot, then just don’t, then write a lot, then eh…that’s all this is. I also need to dust off a project, give myself a deadline, then go from there. Oooh!

I have a stack of novels I need to work on, for instance. I need to rework short stories, spruce them up, trim, throw out and start over, etc! Poetry needs to be written!

Jaws the cat is doing splendidly. She is now twice as big as she was, with a gorgeous shiny coat overlain with ginger tones. A sort of tabby with auburn patches. I don’t know my cat coats. She’s sort of striped with orange patches here and there. Short-hair. The dogs are bored! The fields around the house use drip irrigation as well as being organic so dogs not welcome at all. Normally I would take them out in the afternoon, for a jaunt down the bank and into the fields so they can hunt rodents.

To sum up this hodgepodge—DO NOT DRINK OR INGEST OR SHOOT UP BLEACH INTO YOUR BODY. No!! Bad!! Sunshine is not a miracle cure, either. Sorry. I am not in a writerly frame of mind but will overcome that by opening files, staring at words, perhaps doing more than that. The cat is well, the dogs want to get out and run.

I don’t know who came up with this but I laughed, then I burst into tears. 

 

America seems to have lost what little mind she had. This is common rhetoric lately. The Red Scare, y’all. 

This one won’t die. That the virus is bio-engineered. Ugh. 

Evil Bubbles

So, perusing, from a safe distance, the American political brouhaha taking place. That a president can and should seek foreign ‘help’ in going after political rivals when seeking re-election. That is, I believe, the base of Cheetolini’s lawyer’s ‘arguments’. Or that it’s all to investigate Hunter Biden, son of presidential candidate hopeful Joe Biden…cause corruption rumble rumble grumble rumble.

Madeline Peltz–Alan Dershowitz has repeatedly cited Harvard professor Nikolas Bowie’s scholarship to support his argument that abuse of power is not a crime.

You are welcome to go argue that on various battlefields across social media. It’s nonsense, sure. A president isn’t a king…anyway.

I’ve started and abandoned many a post about American’s descent into actual WTFery. Many others far more urbane, sophisticated and wordsmith-ish than I have tackled the various HOLY SHIT WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING WHERE IS THE WHISKEY AND ICE CREAM moments that have overwhelmingly overlapped like evil bubbles.

Yeah, evil bubbles.

Cheetolini was impeached by the House. Now the Senate gets to decide what or if anything happens after that. He doesn’t stop being impeached if the Senate caves and tries to rush this through. Where senators snipe at each other for a couple days without any witnesses or evidence of any kind examined or so forth. Which is what McConnell wants instead of…oh, letting witnesses and evidence exonerate his orange baby.

It’s almost like Cheetolini is, um, guilty. That Cheetolini had admitted to strong-arming Ukraine and others for info on political rivals and made quid pro quo a public business dealing of his…yep. Yep.

My eyeballs and earballs must be, like, lyin’ to me.

And we have the major players arraigned like characters in a weird reality show.

Big Congress featuring Nasty Nancy, Adam Schitt and the Turtle Man!

See them argue over coffee and witnesses and what reality is, tra la!

Tune in for White Male Rage fits that would embarrass toddlers in the candy section of a grocery store.

Watch speechifying to end all speechifying!

Who will get voted off the island??

How hard will Nasty Nancy bitchslap the boys?

Follow us on social media! Hashtag impeachment gaslit catfishing shouty shouters who shout.

Brought to you by the Koch Brothers and Sinclair Media.

I have to turn to satire and feeble jabs. I also actually called my senators. Ron Wyden and Jeff Merkley. Twice now. To put in my four cents toward calling witnesses to testify. Namely John fucking Bolton. How can you have a trial without evidence, witnesses or…? Yeah, that’s not a trial, that’s an actual farce. 

I could snarl onward with real despair and eyes so wide they hurt for days on end but hey…considering doing chapter blog posts for my Jordan Valley novel. That way I’d finish it. I mapped out about ten or so chapters. I notice others do this with their novels or projects.

The kitten, to end this Evil Bubble blurb, is doing well. Healing up. It’s been raining constantly or I’d let her go outside. She really wants to go outside. Like. Totally. She is fixed now, with shots. Jaws, spring seems early so you could be outside chasing the local birds [oh dear!] real super soon.

All right, January. Let’s hope February leans toward less batshittery from the Senate and all that. I doubt it will. But hey, I can always start and then abandon political rants by the boatload. Yay!

Jaws is judging you. Yes, she is.

 

The War on Thanksgiving!

Do those feathers like, um…? And that poor turkey is wearing a wig! Who designed this shirt?? I suspect someone who actually wants a war on Thanksgiving. 

From the Cranberry Hollow, right off the Punkin Knob—

We have seen some rough fighting this past few run of days. Stovetop stuffing versus homemade, it got uglier and uglier, the survivors dazed and in need of cheer. We spent the night concocting pumpkin pie bombs, laced with cream cheese and whipped cream. But our hopes all rest with the forty pound turkey brother dragged to our fortress of buttered crescent rolls. May it sustain us through these hard hard times. #WarOnThanksgiving

Just off the coast of Gravy Boat Bay—

it’s quiet tonight. Too quiet. We suspect they are sneaking up to offer us deviled eggs and black olives skewered with tooth picks. To refuse might mean we give away our positions, but to choke down those deviled eggs means a total betrayal of all we believe in and hold dear. The struggle is real. The struggle is real. Do we hold true to who we are? It all seems so much dark meat tonight. Footsteps. I hear the rustle of holiday clothes and the clink of holiday dishes. Send me strength to see this through. #WarOnThansgiving

Yeah, this isn’t a parody. I repeat, this is not a parody or the Onion. This is America’s alleged leader…promising we’ll still have Thanksgiving. Not parody. This is not parody.

Somewhere near the Marshmallow Yam Dish battlefield—

We approached the mound cautiously. It quivered. No one would go near it. It looks like something is suspended in the cloudy green interior. The horror we felt did not dissipate for several days. Our commander told us to buck up, it was only a damn Jell-O mold but we noticed our commander did not go near it, nor slice into it. We left it alone. It might be the biggest mistake we’ve made yet, but no one wishes contact with that quivery green horror filled with bits and pieces of God knows what. Someone whispered it was banana and peaches chopped up but surely not. A sinister pall falls over all of us these days. #WarOnThanksgiving

Interior of Turkey Bone Fortress, off Drumstick Circle—

Today we lifted forks. It happened. Small talk nonexistent as we dug in with serious will. Many fell to the wayside after, curiously immobile and moaning while rubbing at bellies. Too much, too much, seemed the weary battle cry this day. #WarOnThanksgiving

from Focus NM.

Murder Mittens

Murder mittens always an option. 

The kitten plays. She’s lively, endearing, clearly on stimulants such as crack or triple expressos. Her broken jaw has not held her up much. The stitches were removed, the vet declared Jaws doing well. It’s her nickname. Jaws. Probably, eventually, her name. She enjoys attacking the dog’s tails. We have three dogs, all with long wavy tempting tails. Jaws stalks each one, sneaks up on it, does the wrap all four paws around tail, kick with rhythmic precision until whatever dog has been enduring this decides enough is enough. Jaws like to hide beneath the loveseat, bat at the nearest dog waiting for food to fall into his or her mouth from the indulgent humans nearby.

The kitten also wakes up in the middle of the night. Wet cat nose. Murder mittens about my foot. Plaintive meows. Are you up yet, giant inept cat? I read where cats regard humans as other giant ‘very bad at being cats’ cat. It’s why they bring us gifts of dead mice or a dead bird, often not so dead. Our pet cats are trying to feed us.

So, the state of American politics at present. I feel like pouring a giant glass of whiskey, with some Coke thrown in it, and watching it all burn to the ground. Maybe that would finally satisfy everyone. We can all enjoy the flames, roast some marshmallows, blame it all on the DNC, Nancy Pelosi, millennials and those who lack civility.

People will vote straight R because the ‘other side’ uses curse words. Okay, sure.

I also notice that the Dems do not play offense. Ever. It’s always a bewildered ‘here are the facts, why don’t you get it?’ blinky sort of ingrained trained door mat niceness.

As the Republican PR propaganda machine churns out 24/7, every minute, whatever reality they wish pushed and believed.

Ukraine interfered in our elections in 2016! Investigate the Bidens! Hillary sold uranium! The polls are rising in favor of Trump!

And so many more, over and over and over, repeated, over and over and over, repeated, over and over and over. Relentless.

There does not seem to be a counter to that, other than a timid ‘that’s not true, here’s the truth, m’kay, you guys.’ Any actual fiery response or push back seemingly gets shot down. By the other Democrats.

Calm down. Calm down, be polite, don’t upset the apple cart, take the high road.

Until that one actually fighting back gets silenced or even shoved out. It doesn’t seem a coincidence that the fighters and loud mouths all seem absent, missing or gone altogether. Or those speaking out don’t get supported or defended that much as the right, with a gleeful savagery, goes after that person with lies, more lies and damn lies. Hello, AOC.

Adam Schiff practically has to be a robot, speaking without much passion or anger. Pelosi has to remain preternaturally calm in the face of rabid hyenas snapping their foamy jaws in her face.

Any show of anger or outrage from the left gets met with how nuts they are, how ANGRY all the time, how they hate America and Americans, how…oh sure. Until the Dems get so trained to be calm apologists you tend to…ignore whatever they might say. Which is the whole fucking point of training them so.

And I find myself wishing a Dem would snap, and just go to town on the R’s. That other Dems start repeating talking points in counter to the talking points we always hear–

That Dems are weak on family values. That Dems are into spending. That Dems are blah blah blah.

Boil down a few very simple talking points that counter the message that Dems are unAmerican fringe weirdos intent on turning everyone gay after handing out free abortions to middle schoolers.

Dems fix the economy after Republicans wreck it. Dems stand for human rights when Republicans don’t. Dems want immigration reformed, not some free for all whoever wants to enter can bullshit. That fucking wall needs to be shoved up the nearest MAGA asshole sans lubricant. Protect the environment. Wrecking the land, water and air will not make America great. It will just make America uninhabitable.

Just some thoughts.

The kitten has slipped off somewhere. She likes to look out the windows. I need to get her fixed before she can return outside a bit. I have made myself her caretaker and servant. I have no wish to lose her as she seeks out mates or take care of more cats as she churns out unwanted kittens.

Brigit and the new fast-moving not-mouse having a bit of a snuggle. 

Late night

Stacks of straw made from the wheat stalks. The Malheur Butte. 

Okay. It’s close to midnight. And something evil…no. No, I won’t go into Thriller. But I did open a can of worms. They are wriggling about on two different fronts. I made a comment. I checked who was following me on Twitter and discovered a flat earther/young earther idiot of idiotic proportions. Damn.

Yep.

And with those lurking about lookin’ for trouble right here in River City!

Now!! I made the mistake, I admit it, of commenting about feminism with someone who called themselves an equalist because the ‘f’ word is so toxic…which was the subject of the youtube video, by the way. Not. Even. Kidding.

So the first interaction with the guy who made the comment went fine. It was polite and measured, we both had fun. I kept myself polite and respectful. Which if you know me is sort of a miracle on the order of loaves and fishes.

Am I being snarky and sarcastic? Uh huh. Was I actually polite? Yes, I was.

So another jumps in…a foaming at the mouth sort typing angrily away about how his daughter isn’t going to pee alongside men because of them equality laws.

Just checked. He left a new comment. I’ll ignore it for now. Cause I’m mature and grown up! 

Yeah, I did that tilt the head, what the hell? expression, face palm, huh? what are you talking about? reaction…before delving into all that.

Which I should have IGNORED SUPER HARD. Or posted pictures of Janet Mock and directed that guy to watch Pose.

He then tried to pretend I was the crazy, hysterical one…as happens in such ‘conversations’.  Men are logical and LOL types, women are hysterical ranters. [That’s the polite term/s. Uh huh.]

After I posted two links to myths about transgender folks, including the bathroom stuff. And linked the hysteria now over LGTBQ gaining rights to the Civil Rights fight to gain rights and even to women trying to get the right to vote. The same fears get trotted out over and over, you notice, you hear/read the same stuff…okay, whatever. Yeah, I’m the crazy loony feminazi, m’kay. He’s the cool-headed, trying to save the kids stalwart!

Talk about a meet-cute!

I, of course, am ‘projecting’ onto this…person. This ranting, hysterical, triggered by a word that has been turned into something worse than ‘cunt’ and almost as bad as the N word.

I get that. I get that ‘feminism’ is a demonized set of syllables. You have to scrape up words that mean the same thing as feminism rather than just use that word. Or you get told you hate men, that you’re for the rape of children in bathrooms and that you hate men and…yeah. I could turn this into a whole novel-length bit.

I will refrain as hard as possible from continuing that rabbit hole of whatever that is. I’ve seen that conversation repeated so many times. It’s so tiresome. I get tired of trying to placate and soothe. Fuck.

Of course. I can play with that poor trout and see how long he can continue that thread.

Now, the science denier chick. That was a head-scratcher as well. Suddenly, on the Twitter feed, between rants about Trumpie the KKKruel KKKlown and vague quotes about writing and animal rescue vids, there appeared…this wild, has to be parody, account touting what got Galileo in trouble for calling out. The earth is the center of it all cause God made the earth for us and…yeah, um, no. With some weird quote from a 60’s book. Which, yes, linked God with creating the planet. Ugh.

I can find it later, splice it in or not.

Mistake, I admit– I commented what the hell was this, was this a parody account. No, she responded and then threw out some science words, mashing them together to “prove” the existence of magic! Holy catnip, Batwoman!

I just went to town on that poor schmuck. I doubt she’ll interact with me again. I did refrain from throwing in swear words. I’m an adult, for fuck’s sake! I’ll ignore her, because I’d rather watch the rescue of a moose calf. It had a hoof caught, at the edge of a lake. In big boulders. These guys got it freed and back to solid ground.

I might just cut down my Twitter to Animal Rescue and Cute Animals Doing Cute Things.

So, basically, the Dodo, Hope for Paws and anything with manta rays. Or manatees. Or moose calves. I’ll keep the writerly stuff and the art stuff. But writers and artists notice when shit goes off the rails, then writes or paints things…damn it.

And yet another shooting, in Odessa, Texas. On the evening before Texas loosens its already loose gun laws…Not even kidding. People seem a lot angrier about all this lately. Anger gets shit done, as Mr. Nancy said on American Gods. Maybe America is finally losing her temper.

Well, I did promise to just promote my writing and arty art all September. Not dissolve into some political rabbit warren [cause it seems every rabbit is digging holes lately and they all live together in some endless fucked up underground Matrix-like hellscape…!] that swerves into ‘why feminists want all men dead and children assaulted in bathrooms’ and ‘Noah’s Ark is, like, totally real cause here’s some super-serious science words thrown out so we now have the same evidence which should make you believe in whatever I can twist out next, m’kay…’

Late night. It’s hot. Hello, September.

 

 

Obscene

After spending nearly four years drumming up every racist dogwhistle known and then some, Trumpie is being touted as the healer who will bring this nation together over the recent mass shootings in El Paso, Dayton and I’ll include it, Californa’s Garlic Festival.

It’s obscene.

He’s campaigned, is campaigning now, on the fear of the other. That ‘illegals’ are here to burn American to the ground. To bring in rampant gangs who will rape and murder and hand out drugs like free samples at Costco.

MS-13 started here in Los Angeles, by the way.

Build the Wall is one of the campaign rallying cries at the more and more scary rallies being held full of red-hatted dewy-eyed sycophants and often, paid seat-fillers.

Send Her Back was chanted about a recent dust up with a Muslim woman who represents a district in Minnesota.

There are actual concentration camps on the southern border, full of brown people, some of whom are dying or already dead. And that’s only the ones we hear about. As those places are kept under strict control. And those people kept in those places kept from communicating with anyone, even lawyers who should even now be processing their paperwork, getting them their due process.

Obscene. As is Trumpie being offered as some sort of comforting presence.

It’s rather like Hitler offering comfort and prayers to the Jews he’s just ordered gassed. It’s that level of jaw-dropping what the actual fuckery.

It’s a scene from some obscure absurdist play where the one who just had you murdered gives the eulogy while smirking and jerking off. Obscene doesn’t seem a strong enough word or concept for this attempt at turning Trump into some sort of sympathy-giver.

You can’t praise the very one who ramped up the hate. Praise them as some sort of newly reformed do-gooder when the same ole shit leaks out. When actions never ever match words. That’s even in the Bible. Known by your fruits. It’s famous. What fruits are Trumpie harvesting, y’all?

He’s not THE SINGLE cause feeding all this hate, paranoia, violence and mass death-dealing, sure. But he is a symptom and an inciting agent in the racism run amuck right now. He didn’t single-handedly blah blah blah. You’ve heard it. I’ve heard it.

However, he is getting normalized. This is all starting to be made to feel ‘normal’. The bar has been set so low there might as well not be a bar at all measuring the lowest level of decency or competence to even cause a blip on a screen somewhere.

Been said before, a lot. Still true. Horrifically true. Obscenely true.

I keep waiting for the ‘news’ to denounce all of this soundly. The Trump Train going off the rails like that great scene in the Fugitive. The one where Harrison Ford galumps ahead of a train plowing through the earth like a grounded dragon.

I keep waiting for major news networks to call shenanigans in no uncertain terms. I mean really put a foot down, use plain words.

Unfit to be president.

Garbage Human Being that needs to be a foot note in history.

Fuck this nonsense, and fuck you, you fucking fuck—I’d love to see that splashed across the NY Times or the Los Angeles Time or the Seattle Times. Love it!

Obscene Man Shits Himself As Country Prepares To Send His Ass To Outer Space—The Salt Lake Tribune.

 

Followed by—

Cloroxing of the White House might takes years, says Elizabeth Warren and many others in between loud bursts of cheering and heartfelt sobbing—The Chicago Tribune.

THOSE ARE FAKE HEADLINES, BADLY WRITTEN FAKE HEADLINES. M’kay? 

I find I am losing whatever elegance and grace I once had in dealing with anything. I feel always in crisis. I know others are going through this, shouting into the vacuum. Singing to the choir. Time for whatever is next. No matter how hard or awful. This cannot continue, this state of affairs.

Because it’s obscene.

Rejection’s Poster Gal

Three dogs, one river. Miz Bridge, Jake in the middle and Molly the Chocolate Lab. Owyhee River.

Hello, various readers and passers stopping by on a snowy evening. Some Bob Frost to start us all on the road to hilarity and good cheer.

I’ve lost count of the rejections this week but it’s a LOT. I either need to write up a new batch of stories, poems and plays or keep sending out the same old crappola. Hoping this time. That time. This time over here.

That it will be different.

Except right now, truth is so much goddamn stranger than any fiction I could fart out or compose while munching French pastry and sipping Italian wine. While seated outside at a sunny cafe in Athens, Greece. I’d write longhand, of course. Using my own blood as ink.

Cause I’m a writer, dangnabbit! That’s a word you hear in old timey cowboy movies as they were not allowed to say ‘god damn it’.

Yes, the American political and all other scenes are just rife with WTF, then topped with Is That An Actual Tweet? followed by Don’t Read the Comments Section, ended with I Am So Done With Social Media, I’m Off To Raise Sunflowers To Help Third World Scarf Herders. Then the cycle starts all over again. With variations.

It’s the downward spiral. It’s the we’re imploding and prolly gonna take the entire world with us. It’s…it’s fucking hot right now.

So my thoughts are roughly—it’s hot. I should write something. About. Something. It’s hot.

Being poor, air conditioning is one of those unheard of, rich people inventions that exist in movies. Sort of kidding. I have a tiny fan. It helps. I go outside, throw water on my squash. I dig out weeds. I hear the hawks raising their kids down the road. Noisy bastards. Shut up, hawks! The corn hides the ditch bank road so the dogs have to listen real hard instead of watching to see who drives to and fro on what they obviously consider their bit of territory. Any engine gets them still and holding their breath. It’s rather creepy-cute.

What to write about. My hot take on politics? Nah, that’s just solid cuss words at this point. Eve Carlin, from hell, shouts out, hey, throw in some other words there. Feminist issues that affect us all? Golly, I’m either too much or too little here or…eh?

Oh!! Sidetrack. Here we go.

Saw the Spy Who Dumped Me. We have free Epix, whatever. So, the plot, eh. Some international whatever, been done a gazillion billion times. However, what’s fresh, you ask? Or haven’t asked at all though you’ve made it this far?

The relationship between the two best friends. Played by Mila Kunis and Kate McKinnon. It rang every true bell. How they support each other, are there for each other, their acceptance of each other’s faults yet the irritation over those faults…it’s all there. I especially found my bell rang over Kate’s character being called ‘too much’ by a lot of people, including the secret spy/boyfriend of Mila’s character. And Mila’s character siding with Kate’s character, then telling her she’s not too much. Ah!! I almost teared up.

As someone who’s been repeatedly called ‘too much’, which I ALWAYS took as—

there’s something very very wrong with me; nobody likes me unless I act quiet and not myself. I am a monster!—

That moment reminded me of what great friends I have.

I could write about my own experiences with people trying to whittle me down to acceptable size.

And never show that writing to anyone because it would be like ripping my face off and gluing a salted strip of razor blades in its place.

How I have the self-esteem of a dead rock and yes, have let other people define me because 99% of those people tell me I’m ‘too much’…!

And when I try to not be a monster, I find that I am silent and limp as moldy lettuce stuck to the gunk under the veggie drawer in the fridge. And that I am angry. Then I explode and people walk about me as if on the most delicate eggshells and…yeah, pattern.

Pattern! Yep. Pattern detected.

So I’ll stick to making up monsters or writing about sexual encounters between dinosaurs and women. Is that still a thing?? What about man’s inhumanity to man?

Oooh! I smell a Nobel outta that one!

I’ll call it Man Being Mean to Men. It will feature no women characters whatsoever. It will just be two white straight guys on a beach arguing over who’s the bigger victim of post-post modern society as the world literally burns. I will use a thesaurus a lot. I will describe their inner penis. A lot.

I suspect if I actually did write something like that, it would probably actually sell.

I’m not bitter.

Nope.

I am. I am so bitter I’m a walking moldy lemon at this point. Okay.

Rejections fast and furious this week. I’ll not buck up at all. I’ll stew in my own sweat until autumn shows up and it’s STILL FUCKING HOT GOD DAMN IT FUCK FUCK FUCK. But hey, the nights are cooler. I should move to the Artic. Except it’s on fire where they’re not drilling gleefully for oil. Where else is cold?

Minnesota? Maine? Montana? It would have to be within walking distance. How much can I stuff in a backpack? I’ll have to dig up my jars of pennies I buried for a rainy day. Some jars only have one or two pennies in them but hey, that first step, amirite? Amen! A cave, some berries.

I can be the Unibomber without all the baggage.

Holy moley, what a scattershot post. But I felt it important to not write yet another political scream that is only heard by some wide-eyed mice in a deserted choir room.

I managed to capture an actual bumblebee sampling my lemon balm plant. Isn’t it gorgeous???

Pipe Bombs Burstin’ in Their Hair

If you don’t know who Nathan Bedford Forrest is, go look him up.

Hey, my book is still on special over on Amazon.

I’m not shocked.

Not shocked by the recent racist red meat thrown to Trump Chumps. America has a deep vein of that ‘send her back’ nastiness embedded in the marrow of her bones.

The other. Not one of us. Not American. Doesn’t love America like us. Not a real American. They don’t get our ways. They don’t have our values. They won’t assimilate. They don’t speak our language. They come here to destroy our country. They are NOT ONE OF US. USA USA USA!!!

You can go back through American history, see plenty of that same shit Assolini spewed at his rally. It’s a diversion, sure. It’s meant to deflect from the Latest Scandal, this time the one with Jeffrey Epstein.

The child-trafficking bestie of powerful men across the spectrum of political and religious affiliations. As even those who worship Assolini would have to, and I’m not sure they would at this point, step back a bit and act sorta, kinda, almost mildly perturbed, if their savior-hero-object of worship gets tied to any of Epstein’s trafficking and underage rape sprees.

There’s also Robert Mueller testifying sometime, maybe? That might also be causing alarm and a need to throw out burning crosses and Make America White Again hysterical rantings.

However, the problem with all this is that there will be very real consequences for these political games. An elected Representative, Ilhan Omar of Minnesota’s Fifth District, might very well lose her life because of the ramped up rhetoric against her.

That someone who lies constantly gets believed by his base is Ionesco level absurd. It’s into Sam Beckett areas.

We’ve already had an Assolini follower try to send bombs to various Democrats on Assolin’s hit parade. It’s just…a matter of time, I guess. Before one of those acolytes succeeds.

And the press will fall in line and blame the victim…cause both sides or something. Maybe they won’t. Maybe lessons are being learned. And.

Nope. Nope, just checked. Nope!

I think America is all but dead. I think there are death rattles going on. But death swans in on chants of ‘send her back’. To people waving their red badges of dishonor.

Yes, I am incredibly disheartened by all this. I’ve even taken to writing a few things here and there over on Twitter. The disinformation, conspiracy theories about Hillary and now the Squad, just makes your hair rise on end. I hit fifty and less shits to give.

I’m watching the gutting of my country by a cynical walking and screaming actual piece of shit. I’m watching my own family embrace this enthusiastically. And swallow all of the lies, slick PR, the rhetoric…all of it.

I also notice, across the pond, that Boris Johnson will likely be the next PM. A British version of Assolini.

And I hope, I still hope, all this embracing of shouty men will end. I hope it doesn’t take a world war to end this fellating of horrorshows who shout and yell simplistic slogans that people can repeat and sneer at those like me.

I hope people notice there are no ideas offered. Give all the money to the rich and kill the group/s demonized for everything is so done that, been there, after all.

Never Again. Except. It’s How Fast Can We Repeat History while pretending this time it’s different?

Is the answer a lot?

Is the answer as much as possible because no one but whiny commie lefty hate the flag socialists who won’t say the Pledge and take knees point it out so it must be wrong, wrong, wrong to not be under the thrall of Orange Shouty Man Assolini??

At this point it’s just patriotic to be a fascist! MAGA! What are we shouting this time around again? I’m economically anxious! Look at me chanting horrible words at brown people while being economically anxious! Wheeeeeee!!!! I feelz so better now!!! Wheeeee!! Still can’t pay rent and buy groceries in the same month but SEND HER BACK SEND HER BACK SEND HER BACK.

That’s where we are. America has gone full tilt boogie insane. I guess those who stayed home rather than vote…nope. Nope, too fucking late to beat that skeletal horsie. You vote for Jill Stein [or any candidate that’s not the Dem nominee] in the next election cycle [if we have one] and I will personally roll my eyes at you. And write a nasty, barely veiled, poem about your genitalia. Okay? Okay!

Maybe! these shouty men [and the far right leaders getting voted into office all over the planet seem legion.] will just be a minor fever on the world’s journey toward some utopia.

Ah, world peace! Whirled peas! A UN type of world where the UN doesn’t really need to exist cause everyone, ahem, gets along! 

Some world where nearly everyone is treated well, there’s enough food and water, the environment isn’t a smoking trash heap, animals still exist in the ‘wild’ and the rise of shouty men is a laughable joke told by smirking comedians at art festivals dedicated to new works.

Yes, my utopia has a plethora of art festivals and smirking comedians. Make art, not war!

It can’t happen here.

Fuck yeah, it can. It is.

I think we’re there, for a while now– people also aint’ comin’ back from their Assolini fixation. You can’t pretend away that you were never really for him when he falls. And he will. Cause that’s what happens, for the most part, with shouty men. It’s not a nice or pretty ending or a ride off into the sunset on a pretty horse for shouty men.

Of course America is still fighting the War of Northern Aggression.

The Party of Lincoln is somehow also the Party of Jefferson Davis. That’s, um…yeah.

That’s nutballs with a capital NUT.

But hey, at least there’s a real sense of inert helplessness going around! We got that going for us!

USA USA USA. Flag.

Oh say can you ignore by the rally’s early light, what so cowardly we chant, is an echo of earlier shit our great-grandparents had chanted at them…And the machine gun’s red glare, the homemade pipe bombs burstin’ in their hair, gave proof through the day, that stirring up hatred works like a charm, hurray hurray.

 

See what I mean? Lilly perfectly echoes the lies, rhetoric, all of it, right on cue. My own dad couldn’t have parroted this better.