Pipe Bombs Burstin’ in Their Hair

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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.

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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.

 

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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.

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Sparklepony Jesus Spammer

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Heaven. I’m in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak…

Admit it. You’ve been missing my genteel and delightful titles. Today’s post is about a persistent spammer with a Jesus fetish.

Now “Emmanuel Love” seems hellbent on trumpeting the end of the world is nigh messages. The first full sentence of this spammy spam was praise for the Insane shitweasel for moving the US embassy to Jerusalem. Naming it the capital of Israel which needs to happen before a chain of events gets set off that will usher in…uh huh. It’s a parallel of the dominionism beliefs.

{If I am fuzzy here on Israel and all that, sorry. I’ll go look all this up, do some research.}

 Dominionisn?? What’s that? Ah. That’s Mike Pence and the Duggars. The Quiverful Movement. Where the women get bred like cows and the men are men, and don’t you ever forget it or they might snap and shoot you in the face cause Jesus. Where the end of the world is pretty much nigh and boy, oh boy, are they prepared for it. You can add survivalists in here. End time preppers. Hardcore Christians nearly vibrating with malice toward others. That’s my take. Just a vibrating set of WHEN JESUS GETS HERE YOU ARE ALL GONNA DIE AND BE SORRY SO THERE. 

That’s why the whole public masturbation over Israel. Because stuff needs to be arranged there to fit prophecy…cause Jesus needs help? Jesus can’t make shit fall into place? I know and you know Insane Shitweasel did that with Jerusalem on Mike Pence’s whispery pleadings. And the praise he got shivered shitweasel’s timbers.

Did you notice America’s birthday got hijacked? That California belched out an earthquake and DC brewed up a witch’s cauldron worth of rain, lightening and general bad wet awful weather?

I’ll let you go read up on this particularly awful branch of Christianity.

Now, my sparklepony spammer spams this same copy and paste completely batshit insane fanfic/novella at me about two or three times a day at times.

As if constantly bombarding me with nonsense and wrongness will turn my head.

Do you really want me wandering over to your site, dude? Or allowing your spammy shit to post, then taking it apart so hard you’ll still be crying for mommy in the echoing halls of some fourth rate hell?

I did go look at the site this darling oozed from. Holy hell and by the scaly tail of the devil!! Anti-human rights, anti-everything, pro-…?

From gay-bashing to how Noah’s Ark is super-real, you heathens. How evolution is fake. Yep. Anti-science, too. Anti-human rights. Anti-women.

The mark of the Beast, for the love of cupcakes and G-strings! Is, gasp, Obama still the Anti-Christ, dude?? Tell me MORE. Oh wait, don’t. Heard it!! Heard all this crap! Makes me giggle uncontrollably.

Prolly not the reaction you want, Emmanuel. 

All with the word ‘love’ thrown around like candy at a fascist rally. We do this out of love, I hear about such hardcore, used to be on the fringe, Christians. We do this to save you…Yeah, no.

Let me go to hell in my own way, to paraphrase Robert Frost.

I have no problem with religion or those who have faith or practice something. I have a problem with others demanding I practice a form of their whatever as well. I want to state that here.

Oh you’re just bashing Christianity!

Well, fuck yeah, I am.

When some lame ass spammer keeps spamming me about his fap fantasy end of the world ocean of blood cum dreams, I get a bit peevish.

Leave me the hell out of your everyone dies but about four people deathgasms. Leave me out of your world ends in fire and blood nuttery.

I’d rather fantasize about a deserted island, with a gorgeous beach and that inviting expanse of water. I can add whatever I need here.

A cocktail.

Someone to talk to, a brace of cheerful friends, a manta ray I can watch swim about.

Oh yes, I dream of going to the beach. That’s my heaven.

Not Emmanuel Love’s [maybe change your name to Blade Kill Em All, Blade Killemall]  grubby, awful, narrow vision of savagery. 

Blood to be spilled by a terrible version of the savior figure that floats through your fanfic like a combination of Voldemort and Rambo.

Just fuck off, sparklepony of hate, fear and jonesing for a big death show to end everything we know of life on this planet.

I’m starting to have no fucks to give anymore. Maybe this next decade is the ‘just go fuck yourself, you annoying shitmeister’ span of years as I toddle off into the surf to pet manta rays.

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from a calendar of sexy Jesus stuff. 
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Anyone else getting these numbingly frequent headscratchers? I cropped it. Emmanuel Love’s opening gambit. Notice that bull about prophecy, in case you thought I was inventing. 

Just Words

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The Carlisle School. Wikipedia. Pennsylvania

You cannot avoid the news. About the American concentration camps housing children in filth, abject starkness, no basic necessities. Like soap. Or tooth paste or a toothbrush. Or diapers for babies and toddlers. Or food beyond enough not to outright starve people.

The GOP frame this as it’s the fault of the Democrats for not funding so and so. That those kids can leave any time. Just walk out. Past armed guards and…go off into the sunset, I guess. That Obama did it first so the GOP and Trump are helpless not to do that as well. The separation of families, the torturing of children, the secrecy and lies. Except it was Jeff Sessions, last year, who put this policy into place.

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From Zazzle

But what do facts matter when brown people can finally be treated as cockroaches again? Or more than usual.

We hear pundits and amateur alike point out how dangerous the language used is. That it hearkens back to Nazi Germany, to Rwanda, to Cambodia, to places where mass exterminations took place.

Dehumanizing others to make it okay to kill them in heart-stopping numbers. Thousands. Hundred thousands. Millions. Rats. Cockroaches. Scum. Rapists. Diseased. They all carry diseases. They’re all gang members and sex traffickers. So it’s good that we’re taking those kids away. Who are all trained to come here to infiltrate us anyway.

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from the Western Rifle Shooters Association

I did read where the Trump Concentration Camps are to be put under the auspices of the military. Which means no oversight. No monitoring. Nobody allowed in who is not authorized. Rather like Guantanamo Bay.

That those kids are being forcibly adopted out, even as parents seek to get reunited with them. Rather like America did with Native American children. Like the Australians did with Aboriginal children. Like Canada did with…There seems to be a pattern here.

The government of the US stepped in, on those reservations. They placed children into boarding schools, cut off their hair, forced them to speak English only, taught them to be farmers or some trade thought suitable to be useful to society. They were not allowed to visit their families. They were not allowed to go home, back to the place they had to call home instead of where their people had been for centuries. As those lands were now plowed under or buried beneath emerging cities. All of this right after the wrenching years of the American Civil War. Once again, the near success of stripping identity and pride away from people deemed less than or not quite human or not human at all.

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Actual poster from 1870’s-80’s

You hear that Christians built America. You look under that even a little, you see Chinese people laying the tracks for the railroads that would connect the East coast to the West coast. NYC to Frisco. Except you don’t call it Frisco. Those that live there have told me that. But the Chinese were brought over to build the paths for the steel horses, and to fill the brothels and to wash the clothes and cook the food. To be laborers of all kinds, in every way. Families back in China sold their children during that time period, or sold themselves or got on boats heading to the brash new country as there was a horrific drought at that time.

Rather like the Irish and the Great Potato Famine era.

Rather like the American-helped drug wars happening in other parts of the Americas in current time.

Droughts, famines, man-made horrors that seemingly have no end, can and do send people to escape them, outlive them. Refugees. Outcasts. Seekers. They all have individual names. They are all humans. Same as I am.

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This is from a slideshow. I did not put this together. Found it during a search.

There is a massacre of Chinese gold miners in my own back forty, so to speak. In Hells Canyon, the great rift in Northeast Oregon, very western Idaho. A group of about thirty people were slaughtered. They had set up a mining claim on the Snake River, the river that gouged the canyon out of the rocks same as the Colorado did the Grand Canyon. They had some success.

There’s gold yet in Eastern Oregon mountains, streams, lakes and rivers. You can stop and pan for gold alongside the freeway if you like. At least you used to. I haven’t driven up there for a while, it might be gone.

White men crept up on this peaceful group. Killed them, wounded them, took their gold. Some of the men were founders of Joseph, Oregon. Which is named for a Nez Perce leader who very nearly won against the US cavalry. If you don’t know that story, you should look it up. It will break whatever’s left of your heart. But he got a town named for him, set against the truly lovely Wallowa Lake. You can take a paddleboat out on it. You can walk around and look at the art and statues. You can attend Chief Joseph Days. In honor of a defeated cockroach.

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Memorial at Deep Creek honoring those who were murdered.  From the Oregon Encyclopedia

The men who killed the Chinese were not punished. There was a sort of trial. No convictions. Everyone knew they had done this but the Chinese were regarded as a necessary evil, a blight. They were not granted the right to seek citizenship. Their customs, language and way of life were considered disposable or laughable. Bodies of those that had died had to be buried in China or the spirits of the dead could not find rest.

The laws regarding those from Asia said that Asians were not welcome. They had been brought here as children or…what does it matter. I guess. It’s old history. It has no bearing on anything today.

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It seems all I have left is a ghostly wisp of sarcasm. A faint wraith with no power left to startle or actually haunt. I cannot even muster up a good sneer or that dry tone needed to deliver the deft blows of a well-placed absurdity into the squawkings about ‘illegals and gang bangers here to ruin ‘murica’.

I am not surprised that Christians justify what is going on now at the border and elsewhere with those whose skin marks them as targets. That seething hatred to dominate and oppress seems built into the foundations of that religion. It has never been about love. It’s been about domination, conquest and erasing all opponents as ruthlessly as possible. I might be exaggerating. I don’t think I am. 

It’s my religion as well. At least it was. Brought up a Missouri Synod Lutheran, a Protestant. Martin Luther started an actual holy war with the Catholic Church back in 1495 or so. I was baptized. I was confirmed as a member of the congregation. My grandparents were staunch Lutherans.

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I cannot see either of them going along with what’s going on now. Their two sons do. My dad. My uncle. They are both Fox junkies; they shoot up on Hannity and Laura Ingraham and Tucker Carlson instead of heroin. They cry fake news in echo of their lord and savior. They go off into that haze, that high, with a blissful smile.

But I cannot see my grandparents, who were alive for WWII, condoning this. I might be coloring them with rosy lights here but I honestly do not think my church-going grandparents who both spoke other languages and were one generation or so from being migrants themselves, would clap and cheer at children in concentration camps.

However, there were Japanese folks in America who were stripped of their rights and everything else, herded into interment camps. There’s even one nearby.

Whatever faith I might have had in God has leaked away like dirty water into the sand. Evaporated. I think today I am finally admitting I no longer believe. It’s been a long time coming, as the song goes. I look at my country. I listen to the people around me grumbling about illegals. About how Trump is trying to save us and the lefties won’t get in line to let that happen.

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1975, Camp Pendleton. Refugees known as the Vietnam Boat People. LA Times. 

My despair is profound, and awful.

There are children being kept in inhumane conditions in overcrowded cages. We are arguing over what to name such a thing. We are arguing that it’s just a matter of Democrats not willing to give ICE some funding or send funds toward the wall. That there’s a crisis at the border and the Democrats want a flood of…

Everything is broken. Another song title from Dylan. But it’s apt here. Never again. Just words after all.

Just words.

 

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When Hope Was High

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…and life worth living. I have that famous or infamous song going through my head relentlessly lately. I Dreamed a Dream. It’s about the most downer of all the downer songs available for those so inclined. Les Miserables is also a miniseries over on Masterpiece Theatre, with Dominic West. Pretty good, is my hot take on that.

I notice the sheer misery of people in both the stage play and the Masterpiece Theater production. I notice the decadent, opulent excess of those in charge. Then I remember that the French Revolution exploded out of those conditions. If you even glance at history, you notice revolutions and rebellions explode out of such conditions. Where the people have nothing and those in charge get too greedy. That’s pretty simplistic. There’s nuances. Economic charts. Philosophies that involve multi-syllable words and compound clauses.

But it boils down to: poor people with nothing murder too-rich people who think four castles is not enough. When that gap between the have and have-nots is the width of our universe. Really super big, in silly words.

I’ve noticed something. In myself. In others. Lack of hope that this current regime will face any sort of consequences or ending of their current steady rise to absolute power.

Subpoenas are actively being ignored. By William Barr. Trump tells people called in for questions by committees not to go or to refuse outright. This is done in the open. The Democrats hem and haw. They splutter in OUTRAGE. They threaten legal action, such as fines or even jail. And…nothing happens. Testimonies don’t get testified. There’s letters written, with stern warnings that those who are now, officially, above the law, just laugh at.

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Spin spin spin. Why bother with truth. Spin spin spin. 

You start gulping. Because you’ve been shouting at the people you helped elect with a vote or even canvassing for…to FUCKING STOP TALKING AND ACT. As those threats of maybe we’ll impose fines and maybe some jail time for refusing a subpoena from Congress…start to seem like a bad joke told by a four year old with snot and jam smeared all over their face.

You listen to the badly garbled ‘knock knock who dere’ a hundred times over without the rest of it. Over and over. Over and over. Over and over. Until it’s just noise. And the snot and jam smeared kiddo relentlessly repeats that knock knock who’s dere. Over and over. Until that kid finds a new phrase to relentlessly repeat.

No impeachment beginning for OBVIOUS FUCKING CRIMES? Out in the open shit that’s been out in the open for years now?

Are you…what the…are you FUCKING KIDDING WITH THIS POLITE WAIT UNTIL THE MAGICAL UNICORN ELECTION CYCLE THAT WILL SAVE US ALL bullshit?

It won’t. It won’t. It won’t.

Oh look at that. Noise noise noise. What’s that? Take a poll, donate to X? Fuck off. I’m saving my pennies to go watch It 2—the Rise of Skywalker’s Cat.

Wouldn’t that be cool if they combined It with the latest Star Wars girl-powered explosion festival? Just me? I would love to watch a battle between Kylo and Pennywise. Sexy! Just me on that one? Light saber versus scary ass clown taunting about Kylo’s famous dad who was Indiana Jones. Ouch! Oh the carnage and drama of that!! They could then team up and finish the Resistance. Crucify whatever’s left of the Resistance then eat a lot of cake. Hell, have a cake-eating manly man festival of cake eating! As the Resistance’s scrappy fighters wiggle like worms on crosstrees behind them.

Because why not. Why not??!!

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Wow, that got dark, awful and a bit raw. When hope was high and life worth living…

You start to realize. Maybe America is done like dinner.

No no no! This cannot be the end. Where’s the rousing American version of Do You Hear the People Sing?

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I’m not sure which production of Les Mis this is. 

Maybe the turning point is about to arrive. One way or another. When those arrayed against TraitorTrump [one of the hashtags over on the Twitter] get their spines in order and forget to play nice or keep their gloves so on they seem grown into the skin beneath.

When we get the scary left who don’t give a shit…which is the Gross Old Pervert’s worst nightmare…going after the criminal royal wannabes of the right with nothing held back.

Where they put the Gross Old Pervs on permanent defense. Where the lefties don’t take shit, they don’t back down, they pick fight after fight and just let the fur fly. No thought of oh the voters or oh what will Nancy in Iowa think. Just defend their country from becoming an actual banana republic run by people the Mafia would cringe over.

And where we, the people…wake the fuck up.

Where we, the people…act like We, the People. I’m not even sure what that is anymore. Everything is under attack so…watching decency, human rights, livable conditions, safety, the environment, all of it, all of it…just be flushed away down the giant money toilet that is TraitorTrump’s personal piggy bank [AKA the Not United States of ‘murikkka] is kinda feeling normal.

Normal.

Just give him a chance. How bad can it be. Hillary is worse! But her emails! Lock her up! Democrats are the ones colluding with Russia. No collusion! Totally exonerated! Witch hunt! No do-overs for the Dems!

Because any actual action from anyone in any sort of power able to stand up to this shit…never happens and when it does, well. That gets derided, derailed and called nuts. By those on the left who are also in some sort of power or position to stand up to the Trump Toilet. Don’t rock the boat, play nice. Be patient. 2020 will save us.

When hope was high and life worth living…I dreamed that love would never die. I dreamed that God would be forgiving.

We all float down here.  

Tabula Rasa

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IDK who took this pic but it seems fitting lately to represent me. A dead tree awash in a pitiless sea.

Obviously, I’ve given up. I can’t seem to get back into the groovy groove of writing. I find myself a tabula rasa. There’s just nothing there. Oddly, nothing gets imprinted on my blank slate. I try to sit down to write SOMETHING and…there’s NOTHING that wishes to be born. Which is an unusual event. Even when things are bad bad bad, topped with a moldy cherry of badness, I could tap out little tales, a bit of poetry, a tiny slap of dialogue.

 
But the act of writing right now is an actual labor. Every word draws blood to write it. I know Bradbury said something that writing was like bleeding into a typewriter. Something like that. But. This is like a forced bloodletting where you can feel your life draining with every word you fling out.

 
I watch, from afar, what’s going on in DC. It’s…a shitshow. I keep waiting for the call, the take to the streets that should have happened almost three years ago. Or over what’s happening even now at the southern border between the US and Mexico. Kids in cages. People rounded up by actual Stormtrooper sorts wearing ICE uniforms without much more than a hey, you look Mexican, let’s go

Transgender folks not allowed to serve in the military.

LGTBQ folks being targeted for ‘religious freedom’ reasons. [Jesus said what again about gay people or abortion or guns??]

Mass shootings done by white nationalists. Synagogues and mosques targeted for destruction and death. Three black churches burned down, just like the good ole days where Robert E. Lee was a hero…oh whoops, still is a hero for leading a rebellion against the US. Mm.

 
Abortion, like always, under constant attack by those who think their abortions and such care is warranted and anyone else’s is a sin or murder. The lies told about Democrats and abortion that people believe. That Democrats are for infanticide. After the child is born, Trump said at a rally in Wisconsin, the doctor and mother decide if the baby lives or dies. He took palliative care for babies born that had no chance of living or were already dead or dying and conflated that with ALL BABIES BORN.

 

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Nurses and doctors working in palliative care spoke out. They laid bare how horrible and gut-wrenching it is to face the reality of watching that hoped for child face death hours after birth or even before that. The stillborns, the children born without brains or spines or inner organs, the children born who would not live much beyond that first hour. That’s what Trump lied about…that care that goes to the at-risk or dying newborn and everything done to save that life even if there’s no hope. And parents having to decide what they wish done or not…sort of like having someone in the ICU hooked up to machines keeping them alive.

 
I’ve been through that one. With my mother. I know a little bit of what parents face when faced with choices such as how much longer do you wish your loved one to breathe.

For Trump and the GOP to turn that into some sort of Democrats hate babies political propaganda push…repulses me to the ninth ring of hell.

 
And I spend all day seething over how stupid people are to buy anything the GOP pushes. All day. It wearies me. It drains what little I still have left in my batteries.
But it’s spring. Things are growing again. Flowers. Bees. The little ground squirrels have moved into the bank between the wheat field and the yard. There’s a fence up so the three dogs can’t get at them unless the gate opens. The youngest dog, Brigit, has great fun leaping after them, digging for them, running from hole to hole. Of course, the rodents hide beneath the giant tangle of irrigation tubes, along with the wild bunnies, the mice and the little sparrows that nest in them. Oh sure, it’s a wild life refuge here a bit. Sometimes the quail nest here as well. There’s also a couple of toads.

 

 
So, I’m not writing, let alone producing anything of quality.

 
I’m wondering when the Democrats are gonna stop consulting focus groups and hold that GOP cadre of villains accountable. It’s getting almost too late for that now. Or it is too late. Far too late to grow spines now.

 
I wonder how soon America will actually cease to be. We’ve been on life support a bit lately…when does the plug get formally yanked and time of death get announced by Stephen Miller, William Barr and Mitch McConnell? All parroted through Sarah Fuckabee Sanders who will only tell this to Fox News or Infowars. Bye bye, Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the…yeah.

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Wildflowers in bloom. Jake. I took the three dogs for a bit of a run in the hills above the big irrigation ditch, which is dry right now.

Cap’n America Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

 

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from Thunder Road, on the Born to Run album. 

No savior is gonna rise from these streets. That’s a reference to a Springsteen song. This post will be, mostly, about the Mueller report as summed up by Trumpie the KKKLown’s toadie, Dildo Barr.

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Um, Mr. Dildo? He admitted to…it’s all in interviews, caught on film, at rallies…um.

Did I get petty enough to satisfy there?

The longed for report dropped after two years of speculation, anxiety, high hopes and dread. That’s from everyone, in all sides of the political spectrum. Yep. So!

It was turned in on a Friday eve. We all–those tuned it to this reality marathon television show with far too many ep’s, or so it seemed–went WHAT DOES IT SAY.

So, Dildo Barr said he’d prepare a ‘report’. Everyone totally, like, believes KKKlown isn’t shown what’s in it as he doesn’t tweet.

He’s not tweeting!! What?? Has the earth started being round or something????

Yet, at Mar-A-Lardo, there was a giant party. On Saturday nite! Drinking, underage trafficked girls as supplied via China through some other massage parlor outfit…you know it, I know it. Let’s stop pretending, m’kay? Let’s stop pretending only the left peddles nubile children for Satanic rape consumption, geez. 

But it’s rich white guys who have an R by their name so it’s forgivable and everyone does it so why are you getting upset, snowflakes??

Ahem. But her emails! Lock her up! Hillary sold uranium. Bill did worse things than Trump, who’s now a real Christian, he’s just learning right now… so how hypocritical are you? Tolerant left my ass!

You hate Jesus and America! Fuck you, commie socialist traitor pigs! Dyke race traitor bitch who hates men! Race traitor! Now go burn down a building, antifa bitch. You lefties are all violent thugs!

—Just to be clear– the above is an actual rabbit hole I got sucked down into when I dared question Der Gropenfuhrer’s gropings—

Lindsey Graham, head of whatever committee that will ‘allow’ the Mueller report to see the light of public scrutiny…partying at Mar-A-Lardo like a pearl-clutching Christian Rock singer. Lindsey Graham, whose dead pal, John McCain, was trashed globally by Trumpie the KKKlown.

Do you like old man cum on your face there, Lindsey? You must. A lifelong friendship means less to you than trying to get MAGA sorts to vote for you? Oh honey.

So!

Dildo pens a four page very hasty book report-like summary of the Mueller report…which, I must emphasize, NO ONE HAS FUCKING READ OUTSIDE OF THE MUELLER TEAM.

Not any of the press.

Not your basic hillbilly strict Constantitutionalistista who reads at a six grade level but can recite 2A like a boss. Just ask em!

Not your average Starbucks-slurping Millennial avocado-breathed weeper.

Not even other lawyers not associated or working on Mueller’s team! Because those working on all this had to turn in their smartphones.  Because people don’t talk to actual other people anymore or somethin’. 

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Barr got it Friday evening, had a four page ‘summary’ out by Sunday of a big ass document that covered two years of crap and stuff that spawned quite a lot of charges, indictments and prison time.

Yet…somehow…KKLOwnstick VonTreasonhead had no idea of the crap and stuff going on about him at rather intimate levels?? He had no idea his fixer Cohen was…??? Or that Manafort…?? Sure, Jan. Sure.

Mueller didn’t clear him or exonerate Trump, by the way.

But that gets whispered and buried. It’s just a big ole Party in the Fourth Reich by the GOP and their toadies, stooges, hanger ons and brown-nosers.

Um, guys? There’s still all those other investigations goin’ on. Um, guys? You might actually have to bribe and threaten a lot more peeps here. Checkbooks out, boys! Flex those stubby tiny fingers! Prepare to write giant numbers you can write off as charity deductions! Ha ha ha!

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I’d laugh if this were some other country. This is something that happens in Italy. Or some fourth-world African warlord’s bloodied bit of land.  This is Nicaragua!

Or your basic PTA elections. Ha ha, I kid. I kid!

I’m sure those sitting in somewhere like Finland or Narnia are going, WTF is wrong with America that they let this go on? They might use far too polite language and big words. Or not say anything, just roll their eyes as they glance away from the hysterical headlines to get back to their Proust. As they sip fragrant cups of orange pekoe tea while munching ginger bikkies.

These are the times when Americans sadly wait for some savior to rise up, and, well, save them. You realize we really are waiting for Captain America to show up, beat the bad guys to a pulp, deflect bullshit bullets off that shield of his all while saying charming, clumsy things. That the dust will settle, the baddies will be suitably gone, punished, vanished, turned to ash. Then Cap will give us all a giant group hug, smelling of Christmas trees and birthday cake. America will be nice again and sanity will reign once more. Ah! Cute! We Americans are so cute with our savior complex.

Someone else will rise from these streets! A hero will rise! Not anyone we know and certainly not me but… A HERO WILL RISE OH YES. And everyone will rally behind him.

[It’s always a him hero in ‘murica.] 

We’ve been trained, too well, that protest and action, unless done by right wing sorts, is bad. So bad. Far worse than whatever is being protested again. It’s far worse to be Antifa than an Alt Right Nazi Tiki-torcher who runs over a woman, kills her, with his car.

Heather Heyer, ahem, ahem!

I wish I were kidding. But.

There is a history of that. Turning protestors into the ones that need quelling and jailed and even killed. They should have been at work or home, not acting like thugs, the snowflakes, lol.

You’ve read the comments, you’ve heard the Fox News snippets.

We’re going to have to do more than wait for our next chance to vote. As the right wing is working super-hard to ensure any vote cast even vaguely left doesn’t count at all, ever, ever again. Which turns America into a one-party country…which turns America into an actual fucking dictatorship.

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I wonder, when or if that happens, if the left will still be preaching politeness and waiting, saying things like the wheels of justice turn slowly but they something something. Um, justice? When you pay off the giant debts of a supreme court justice or when you stack the courts with Bible thumpers? Justice doesn’t have a chance, darlings.

These are the times that show us how passive we’ve become. Well, the younger generations seem oddly fired up and ready to savage the older generations into actual corners. Where they will wield chairs as the old lions snarl to the last bitter breath in their bloated moist bodies.

South Korea, after all, took to the streets to oust their corrupt leader. And they’re very polite. And Korean. They don’t even have a Fourth of July!!

You hope someone will throw some nukes at us before it gets to Civil War, Part II, Revenge of the Economically Anxious. I think I’d rather deal with a Mad Max world than try to live in New Gilead. Good thing I already know how to make bread or I’d be no use at all to the Commanders. Hallelujah. Under His Eye.

Book Report by D. Barr, Donnie Rump and Leatherface Graham! For the next hour we’ll wildly speculate and make up stuff that will then be taken as truth! Because news, schmewz, all opinions are true! 

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The Office-Govt. Shut Down Mashup

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PART ONE?

The shut down. You might have noticed I’ve avoided, mostly, political shtuff. Mostly because it’s being covered 24/7 by experts and randy amateurs alike. I put randy in there because I think it does make your garden variety political blogger a bit horny to be living in these interesting times.

Also, I don’t really have anything new to add to the American stew that is, well, everything right now. 30 days or so of this. Trump said he’d own the shut down. So far, he’s blamed it on exactly the group we all knew he would. The Democrats! Yep.

You write such things, realizing they’ve been written a bazillion bazillion times before. Dead horse. Dead horse here!

Okay. Let’s take a hard turn toward the BBC’s The Office.

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Ricky Gervais as David. Martin Freeman as Tim. Mackenzie Crook as Gareth and Lucy Davis as Dawn.

PART TWO!

I found the entire show, on DVD, at the local thrift store. For next to nothing. Four bucks. Mint condition. Beat that, Ama-sucks. I am not a Ricky Gervais fan but I do know of this show. It was mentioned, briefly, on Gilmore Girls, during the Rory Barbie Yalie years. That the original British show was far superior to the Yank one. It took her several time watching it to get all the jokes. Ha ha. Rory, you’re such a TV-watching genius or somethin’!

Full disclosure– I have seen the American version of this. I hated it. It got tiresome fast. I didn’t care about Pam and Jim. Dwight came across as highly killable; the cops would look the other way as I killed him with a dull spork. Steve Carell’s boss guy, I now see, was softened a great deal. Wow.

The BBC Office goes for the jugular, while the American one goes for…a pale imitation. I said it. There it is.

I watched the BBC The Office with my stomach hurting. [I binge-watched this. Mistake. Mistake!]

It was about the darkest comedy I’ve ever had to suffer through. [I mean that in such a good way.]

Gervais’s hapless, insufferable David Brent lumbering through two seasons and one special just about finished me off. When you nearly start screaming at whatever you’re cringe-watching…GET A CLUE YOU WANKER.

I just. I CAN’T EVEN!

I’ve worked with people like this! I’ve had to sit through those soul-crushing trainings. The skin-crawling team building exercises. Where you sit there wishing for death. Actual death.

Death, here I am! Save me, death! Those kind of meetings. Oh yeah. Holy hell.

Oh! Their faces as the mockumentary camera/s panned the people–

actors, yes, but far too realistically done to not think at times this is a real documentary. Unlike the American counterpart, where you never believed there was a camera crew catching people being slowly smushed by their work environment–

their faces as carefully blank as a doll visage. The little body twitches. The slight eye rolls with each other over the more horrible parts of the trainings.

Now of course there’s a doomed office romance. Tim and Dawn. It’s just as sad, ordinary, interesting at times, painfully awful and ‘oh holy hell, been there’ as one would wish. 

There’s the odd duck who’s very good with all this structure and mindless dronery. Gareth. Now, the first time Gareth appears, I thought, is he meant to look so ill? He’s a very tall actor [ Mackenzie Crook] who’s quite thin, and the skin about his giant eyes seemed purple and bruised. That’s what I noticed, as well as how ANNOYING Gareth can be.

I looked him up. He played the tall skinny one-eyed pirate with the wooden eye in the POTC franchise.

I was wondering where I’d seen him, as you do, when binge-watching thrift store DVD’s.

He sat by Tim Canturbury, played by the ever lovely and talented Martin Freeman, and the two worked so well off each other. Tim amuses himself by playing pranks on Gareth, who’s a bit of a military fanatic, as well as being awkward socially. [But who is not in this little tiny fish bowl world they live in?]

We get the stapler in gelatin bit right off! Gareth is disgusted! Dance, puppets, dance, in your office stage set! That tiny glimpse of rebellion and misplaced rage under that somewhat harmless prank. You notice. You notice!

Tim and Dawn, of course, shared sexual chemistry, flirt gently with each other but Dawn [Lucy Davis] has the prerequisite AWFUL BOYFRIEND FROM HELL. Lee! Who has basically sucked away her dreams, her ambitions to be an illustrator and a lot of her self-esteem. That was also hard to watch. It was done so casually, more with thrown off lines muttered or tossed away as if no big deal at all, sent toward her.  Her slow-burning rage as she accepts this as just her lot. That resignation tinged with ‘Is this my fucking life??’ expressions. Lucy Davis nailed Dawn’s ability to say more with her glances than her polite, very soft words. 

Tim makes an utter fool of himself over her, the camera catches all of it. He does this twice! We sympathize with him and her. Tim also gets a sorta galfriend but he breaks up with her. And Gareth hovering nearby waiting to pounce on Rachel [Tim’s galfriend] makes for laughs and no no no, he didn’t just say he doesn’t do sloppy seconds but he’d put on a condom and do her anyway…holy hell. Seriously, that was delivered as if he had just offered her a giant compliment. It was played very straight, almost shy yet…ugh. You marvel at Gareth’s persistence yet gag at that persistence. 

Is our government still shut down? Okay, yep, it is. Back to something warm and fluffy! 

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Tim had to hide that in David’s office. So David confronts the entire office. With the two people looking to hire him for a speaking engagement looking on. Ricky Gervais. I’m not sure who the two other actors are. Sorry!

PART THREE!! 

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Holy hell, do you not know people like this?? I do. 

However. Ah. The heart of darkness in this office helltopia.

We have some sympathy for Tim. We have a smidge of understanding for Gareth. We root for Dawn to wake the fuck up already, the guy’s cray cray for ya. We make frowny puzzled faces at Keith. We have no idea what the names are of pretty much anyone in that paper selling place. We’re not even sure what that paper place does with all that paper. Everything’s electronic…paper is on the way out, right?

Slough is such a bad name for a town!

Ah, the heart of darkness is named David.

We cannot find the same empathy for the ‘boss from hell’, as the mockumentary labels him when the project gets finished, then shown on BBC2. 

Not for realsies, of course. Remember these people ARE NOT REAL THANK BABY JESUS.

David Brent. He leers, he laughs, he tries to be popular, he puts his foot in it, he tries far too hard. He has such an inflated sense of his own self. He plays to the camera aimed at him instead of being himself.

We get to see the slow take down of this beastly character. The inevitable take down of this ghastly man who reminds me of…Donald Trump.

Anything David Brent can do to get praise he does. He bullies those around him. He inserts himself into situations where he’s not wanted. He thinks he’s charming. He thinks people love him. At the end of the day, he has no real friends, just people who tolerate him. People who make fun of him to his face that he accepts because he wants so desperately to be one of the cool boys in the office.

One of the most gut-turning scenes arrived late in the series. During the ‘what happened to them–where are they now’ ender, David has been banned from the paper products office. Watch to see why!

He does a speech about how everyone wants him there at the office. People won’t even look at him, the silence breaks your ear drums.

He exhorts people to go for a drink with him to show the manager that people don’t wish him banned…and no one moves a muscle or looks at David.

He then begs for drinks the next night, the night after that. Until it’s the pregnant desk mate of Tim who says no one wants to go have drinks with you, no one likes you. Tim then predictably mumbles he’ll meet David for a drink later.

I just. I’m cringing even writing about it.

To stand there, among people you worked with, who hate you so. Without them saying a word or even looking at you. Devastating.

Yet. You can’t muster up much more than YOU DESERVED THAT YOU BLOODY WANKER.

Does he learn from this? No. Does he learn from anything he mostly does to himself? No! Kind of like the current POTUS.

Dark comedy. If that’s your cup of arsenic and belladonna, then do I have a show for you.

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