The day will come, much like it did for Germans in 1945 when the error of your falling for the greatest cons ever will come together, like two polluted rivers at a confluence of effluence, catching fire and burning until your conscience is nothing more than teeth and ash—your magic thinking and faith belief will be seen for the childish foolishness it’s always been, and your tangerine imbecile will lie rotting in his bunker of self-immolation and ignominy. You’ll be able to hide from the humiliation of your gullibility but you’ll never be able to run away from your memories of your much-deserved and well-earned shame.
The Orange Man
The Bizarre World of the Trumper
I met a man who paid no tax but said,
Be better off with them protestors dead,
They got their freedom; so what more be said?
But there’s a dead man from cop’s knee to head?
He looked as if some mystery were said
He frowned correcting my indignant state,
They’re a small part of populace weight
He glowed justifying the dead man’s fate
His orange glow baffled my thinking state
My curiosity needing to sate,
Tell me please, the Orange Man’s word innate
Tell me of the orange world he’ll create
His eyes widened in orange burning pride
Raising his fists, mantras orange he cried,
We’d start with the lazy liberal side
Stop them living on welfare till they died
Them is my taxes paying their free ride!
We’d kick out all those liberals who lied
Evilutionists claiming ape is man!
Time’s up, if you think Jesus isn’t grand!
We’d fix free speech with the good book in hand
Raise up our culture’s statues on the land
Fix them whores by cutting the Parent Planned
You’ll be People of Praise or jail you’ll land!
That’d be the warmup for the bigger plan
We’d make them faggots learn to be a man
We’d make feminists stand behind a man
We’d make that bum pay a medical plan
We’d make a wall to stop the Mexican
Them’s our low pay jobs, return to your land!
Our freedom is ours: against you we’ll stand
Don’t cause crime, and police won’t raise a hand
All lives matter, you just don’t understand
If you did, we’d live in the promise land...
The simple guy became the Orange Man
Fighting with hatred to have no health plan.
Only a Philosophical Disease
I am astounded by the living contradiction of Christian conservatives, who walk through life believing they are upstanding people, all the while saying and doing terrible things. I worked an under-the-table job with a diehard President Trump supporter, who supported by his immigrant wife and her job's healthcare plan (made possible by Obamacare), believed everyone without a job was a freeloader. He also thought George Floyd’s protestors exaggerated the race issue and somehow caused the entire problem. Perhaps most disgusting to me was his casual questioning of a gay couple known to us both, “How did two gay guys get to have all that money?” As though “gay” meant this couple lucked into wealth, he couldn’t understand how anyone outside Christian conservatism became successful because no one outside Christianity's fantasy even exists. If Christianity, conservatism, republicanism (whatever you call the bullshit) is not a philosophic disease, then half the US population suffers insanity or stupidity. Only a philosophical disease can make you love and support the thing harming you most.
STRIVING FOR SANITY AGAIN POST MAGA
Recovering the Salvageable Obnoxious, Losing Lost Human Detritus, As MAGA ever-so-slowly, fuckin’ dies
Watching the Hulu documentary “God Forbid” in the ugly threats of the midterm elections
T.S. Elliot, the great poet, hypothesized that the world would end, “Not with a BANG, but a whimper.” (slight paraphrase and caps on BANG are mine). This line was stolen and used, without attribution, towards the end of the terrific movie Wind River.
“Good poets borrow, great poets steal,” Another great line just now stolen by me but attributed to everyone from Auden to Roethke and in between.
Attribution, like absolution is an earned grace, a deserved offering for when it is indeed deserved.
How do we deal with our once beloved, then estranged, now striving for beloved-ness once again, family and friends who fell into the madness that was MAGA at its height? For those of you still in its grip who are almost assuredly NOT reading this anyway, this message is NOT for your crazy asses.
For me, the formula for my initial dealings with them was captured in this very short form poem:
When should we stop talking to people we find obnoxious?
With most of them,
my immediate answer is
For myself though,
there’s a pause, a Christian consideration
(despite my atheism)
of wanting to be kind, loving and thoughtful —
But here’s the reality —
Fascists, racists and dopes?
not even a breath pause.
Jump right to
Just stop it.
But again, that was then.
There are people I loved and felt loved by who I couldn’t or wouldn’t tolerate during their insanity, including those who thought I was the madman by my inability to see the magical, Christ-like powers of the Tangerine Imbecile.
As the Jan 6th committee and the Department of Justice move towards what will hopefully be the grinding horrors of justice for Trump, MAGA and their idiot lumpen proletariat, I intend to give a type of solace in forgiveness for folks who regain sanity.
America, Trump, & The End
The Great Social Experiment that died with Homo-Stupidus
Part 1. Homo-Stupidus
A duck asks a pair of fish swimming below him, "How's the water down there?" One fish turns to the other and asks "What's water?"
(This line/joke is stolen from somewhere, although I don't recall where, but it's not mine, not original from me (full disclosure)).
When the dinosaurs ruled the earth (or at least were at the top of the food chain) I don't think they argued or disagreed much about social order, left, right and/or center. They just wandered around eating one another and everything else until an asteroid hit and threw up a 200 year night.
Then, kind of like a Cormac McCarthy novel, they all just died. They had a beginning, a middle and an end;
The End as it were.
It seems unavoidable to me that mankind, homo-stupidus is going to keep culling our population down ("What's water?") until the earth, either by asteroid, nuclear apocalypse, or eco-genocide/suicide, or some other amazing unforeseen (as in obvious) manner, has re-set the boundaries for who we are, how many of us there are and what's gonna happen to us.
(Side note, this was written at least a year before COVID-19 began dancing through our nightmares).
The American experiment in self-governance, to whatever small degree that ever really existed, is pretty much done and dead on a nation level.
The American empire has begun its collapse in pretty much the same way that every empire known to us in history has collapsed, those of us alive today will all go thru our personal extinction, probably well before the bigger, big one happens.
I mean, with Homo-Stupidus in charge we only have, at the outside maybe 10 or 15 years to implode/explode before we will all be playing poker (and splitting every pot) at the hands of baby Jesus and his daddy-o, having already had the due date reached for turning back into the old atoms of our mortal coils.
I'm trying to resist self-abuse by accepting yet refusing to consider this a bad thing.
Like nihilism, which the older I get the more I think takes a bad rap. I think it's actually only accepting what is completely obvious but too uncomfortable for us to handle.
We are a very fucked-up, violent, stupid species, arrogant to an extraordinary and extremely dangerous degree, self-destructive and willful and cruel.
This isn't being negative any more than it's being realistic. "What's water?" is the perfect metaphor not just for how bad our politics are, but for how messed up WE are, as a species and thus how fucked we are.
Part 2. Jesus and Trump
Evangelicals, many of them, love Trump.
I guess if you can believe in the divinity of a blue eyed, blond, middle-eastern guy, who is the only son of god and who can grow limbs back on people and walk on water. Well, let's face it, you can believe ANY thing.
Don't make fun of people's religion?
Then don't choose for your religion preposterous and idiotic nonsense and then put a cherry on top of it all by thinking the psychopath Trump is special in the eyes o' da' Lord.
How Did We Become "Get Off My Lawn"?
From "This Land is made for you and me"?
This Land Is NOT Your Land, Adieu
As we approach the end of the Jan 6th hearings I am reminded of this piece below, written a few years ago. I posted this diatribe back then inspired by my rock-sure conviction that Donald Trump spelled something far more dangerous and sinister than most of us could even imagine. Regrettably, I was under-estimating the horror and the danger. Things have not gotten better!!!
America Part 1.
If you have ever uttered a phrase like "America love it or leave it" or your idea of patriotism is a little red, white and blue sticker on the back of your car and/or flying the stars & stripes on a flag pole taller than your neighbor's - the following thoughts are likely not for you. You've been warned.
We used to be able to believe we lived in a fair and just democratic system.We were taught this all our lives, in our families, schools, TV/media propaganda exposure, social groups, "We're number one! We're number one!" "The Super bowl is the most important event in the history of the universe!" and on and on.
This is no longer true.
It was never true, mind you, but at least we used to be able to believe it.
Here is the truth: we live in an oligarchy owned by a small cadre of very wealthy people who mostly feel that this is exactly the way the world should be. Worse yet, they believe that the world couldn't/shouldn't possibly be any other way.
They believe it has always been thus, and will always be thus. We used to be able to believe not only that our view was reality, but that to think any other way than the belief that America is fair, just and right was to be a traitor. Many of us still believe this - I hope those of you who still believe this aren't reading this.
If you think about what I am saying now, and it is depressing to you, you know I'm telling the truth. If you re-read this and can't argue against it, you know this is true. In fact, you know this is true no matter what, unless you insist on not knowing which many of you are content to do.
The problem with America today is clear in our country's 40% support of the GOP/Trump agenda and that 40% group's inability to see the evils of neoliberalism, capitalism and imperialism and thus the true nature of the American empire.
I have been watching Ken Burn's documentary The War, about ww2. Everybody is skinny and all the 400K casualties are young and clear about fighting fascism/Nazism to save the world for freedom and liberty and the blessings of democracy.
The word "capitalism" never comes up.
The USA, before entering WW2 in 1941, had a standing military about the same size or a little smaller than that of Rumania, hardly the terrifying military machine of infinite killing and destructive capacity that it is today.
The USA then was still a young country, just an adolescent coming out of a very rough puberty (the great depression).
We are now a bloated, aging ugly old man with a terrible haircut, a witch for a wife and a batch of stupid, vapid, psycho kids who we pretend we like.
America isn't what it once was. It deserves to die, just as all empires that get fat and old, deserve to die. Our denial of death will only last as long as it lasts.
Myths Part 2.
Our secret selves hide behind our myths both shared and hungered for and lied about, as we lie to each other through our silences. The longer a secret is held inside us the deeper it cuts and wounds and scars. Nothing fresh or new can grow out of earth scarred for too long.
We see only what we insist on seeing or will tolerate seeing of nation and self and others and only in so far as our vision will share the lies we tell ourselves for our need to be living within the lies our nation tells itself.
Six hundred-thousand of us died in the Civil War and more in our days and times. And the poets wept in madness and changed into the old men as America grew old and insane.
Few of us if any can see ourselves rising without a nation, without hope or any chance to ever see ourselves for what we once dreamt of being.
We cannot see through the veils we have slowly set before us and allowed to be set before us, so that we can escape seeing what we have become: old, dying, soon to be dead and planted in the dirt we once called our nation.
Every life and every story has beginning, middle and end. This nation is done and gone, but not quite able to see itself yet. This empire will go on a while longer, it doesn't matter. Every story has its ending and the story that was called the American Nation is done and going, going . . . whether we can see it or not.
Where once stood proud, hopeful humans calling themselves One, ONE NATION UNDER GOD, we now stand angry, embittered shadows, distrustful, full-up of hate, anger, fear and loathing.
We all know this truth, standing in our respective tribes, divided, staring across insurmountable distances at the other tribe, wishing them ill and death and harm and sure of our rightness.
We are sure of their evil, and all of us in both tribes, call ourselves the rightful heirs of a nation we once imagined, now an Empire breathing its dying breaths.
But who has ever known that the breaths they breathe in their final moment are their final breaths?
The billions of stars, the billions of planets, the trillions of atoms of the air, the movement of cells in our livers and hearts and our forests and our couches and our desks were always moving us towards this moment,
No matter the depth of insignificance the death of our nation is, done and gone, as we all are soon to be: nation, man, woman, child, animal, rose, stone turned and unturned and mountain and valley, all of it, all of it, all of us and our nation now, once becoming and once become, and now?
Gone and done.
Done and gone.
Adieu, adieu, adieu.
Famous Fuckers Not Giving a Fuck
Jeffrey Epstein, Ghislaine Maxwell And Me, okay, so maybe I don’t know them.
they did naughty sex shit in ‘Merica
with and for billionaires and powerful peeps
whose message from the universe
and the overlord Big Daddy in da’ sky
was understood by them to mean;
“I can do any goddamned kinky shit I want
without consequences. . .”
Oops, huh Jeffery?
Oops, huh Ghislaine?
“Pardon the interruption and
‘Scuse me, fellow sinners,
But I gotta collect call for you
from Harvey Weinstein,
on line 2...”
The Impeachment of trump (t)
This is A reminder of what coulda, and shoulda happened a long time ago: for all you faithful followers of the Tangerine Jesus #2.
>I considered titling this The impeachment of Donald Trump or Donald J. Trump, but somehow diminishing him to a single, lowercase surname felt better.
Of course, he is much loathed, maligned, and castigated by all except his cult- following of fools, idiots, and needy simpering suckers.
So the lowercase “t” felt more right.
This moment of this writing, the first day following the first live testimony of the first witnesses to Trump’s malfeasance, seems a good place to start.
This allows me to assume a historical tone filled with gravitas and huge significance in the unfolding of our nation and its people.
But it also feels like a good place to stop.
Because just how much more detail, how many more words and breaths must be wasted to describe a mistake (an election of cosmic idiocy) compounded by venality, greed, and the mad lust to hold power above all else — for this nonsense?
Who fuckin’ knew?
Who knew how much time, heart, soul, and spirit would be wasted on describing the moral death of a people?
The impeachment of trump,
Sure, why not. Let’s wait and see how he and his minions turn this shame and vulgarity into another torchlight parade of chanting turds:
Piles of maggot-ridden feces dressed up in khakis and polo shirts chanting racist bullshit.
The impeachment of trump,
Nah, make it trump trumped.
The impeachment of trump,
Little hands, little mind, micro-phallic moron: heartless, cruel, an absurd piece of shit.
Goodbye. our fondest wish, our greatest hope, our worst nightmare, our greatest mistake.
But please, please, please, whatever else happens, let’s make it Goodbye, With a capital G.
I Get It Trumpsters
My dream last night informed me
Last night I dreamt that I was saying goodbye to Barack Obama, shaking his hand. And I felt myself tearing up as I tried to find the right words to express to him how much I loved him as my President and Leader.
When I woke up, I realized that people who love Trump and call him “the greatest President” of their lifetimes, feel every bit as emotional and intense these days as I felt towards Obama in my dream.
I don’t understand how anyone in their right fuckin’ mind could feel that way about the Tangerine Crime Boss Imbecile with the micro-sized I.Q. and the ethics, loyalty, manners, and civility of a starving, rabid sewer rat????
I DO understand that when we give our hearts and hopes to anyone or anything, it’s difficult or sometimes impossible to escape our emotional attachment.
Saying goodbye to Barrack in my dream last night made me sad.
Saying goodbye to Trump every waking moment of one’s fuckin’ day probably feels pretty shitty about now too.
Jus’ Spreadin’ da WORD
“Not a Cultist! Not a Cultist...yer the Cultist”
I guess this could be a joke...maybe...dunno — the little sidebar flags and Trump 2020 signs gotta make you wonder though, right?
Consider this a postscript to my piece Why We Still Need to Worry About F&*kin’ Trump.
Welcome to the neighborhood!!!
Not a cultist!
NOT a cultist!
Yer the CULTIST, libtard, snowflake, liberal, commie, homo-loving loser!!