Donald Trump – Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3

Flip Flopping In The Fuck You Fours

There’s zero harm when my grandson decides to turn on a dime from one story to the next. One emotion to another. He’s a kid. It’s cute. It’s funny. Often hysterical.

That said, at times his gyrations remind me of those of the idiot in the White House. Both know everyone is paying attention and crave it. My grandson will grow out of this. Most kids do. When adults stay stuck in that mode, it’s always trouble on scales large and small.

I can’t speak as to why the decaying sociopath destroying everything in his path, and those who enable him, seem to think this behavior is okay, beyond theorizing that there are more than I could have ever imagined like him to make me shudder. I’ve tried to understand it and can’t. I just know at some point what’s cute in kids is misery for the rest of us on this planet now that we’ve let this tyrant stay in his terrible two’s and fuck you fours.

It upsets me that I can’t enjoy these moments with my grandson without thinking about this.

You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.

If Shoes Make The Man…?

The jokes write themselves

It was a big deal and a rite of passage for the males in my extended family when Uncle Robert gifted you a set of Florsheim shoes on your sixteenth birthday. He was a shoe salesman. He knew shoes. He knew feet.

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He always carried his Brannock device, the metal device that measured foot length, width, and arch length commonly found in shoe stores of old. He would measure you up before your birthday, so the gift was not a surprise but a statement.

He not only believed in the cliché that “shoes make the man” but that saying was embossed on his business card and also on your birthday card, tucked neatly in the tissue paper in the top of the shoebox. Like I said, he was a shoe salesman.

That aphorism not only signified that you were moving out of your boyhood to become a man, but it also announced your social standing to the world around you, and supposedly signified that you were of good character.

I guess that well worn cliché, like everything else in this world during the last decade or so, will need to be resoled now that the made-for-TV Pedophile-in-Chief is not only requiring the simpering slaves in his cabinet to wear his favorite Florsheim shoes, but gifting them those shoes to ensure their obeisance.

If shoes ever made the man and defined character, watching these men march in lockstep, wearing comically ill-fitting symbols of their subservience, it certainly reveals (again) just how character-less these bumbling bunions are as they trip over themselves to please their master.

My uncle tired to set us on a course for success. I’m sure he’s turning over in his grave at how these simpering sops fail to measure up.

A Dark Place

Damnable depravity

I’m in a dark place. We are in a dark place. Living with our eyes wide open in a darkness. No light needed to know what we plainly see. ICE thugs. Minneapolis. Journalists arrested. Public corruption. Wars. Corporate capitulation to evil. And “The Epstein Files.”

I have not written much about that entire depraved episode. I will today.

In what seems like a backhanded, boomeranging, and backfiring way to distract from all of the other despicable things this administration has been doing to distract us from the Epstein files, the Justice Department released about three million of those files today. Apparently there are millions more. But in some ways we’ve probably seen enough.

Or at least to my mind we probably have. At least enough to pass judgment. Some of the files, either mistakenly or on purpose, were leaked. They include descriptions of what horrible men did to young girls. I won’t post or describe the specifics, beyond saying how utterly depraved they are.

They’d get an XXX rating if those acts were included in a movie. If you want specifics you won’t find them in the government release of the files because the DOJ actually deleted the links to some of the worst, which do indeed finger the president of the United States as a participant. But I’m sure you can find them all over the Internet.

Let me say this. The fact that there are going to be people trying to brush past and brush over what we’ve long suspected but now seen makes those horrible acts of perversion almost pale in comparison. You have to be some sort of sick to try and rationalize it as anything other than evil. But I’m sure there will be too many willing to throw their souls under the bus they continue to ride on.

When and where I grew up, it was a small rural community, populated with many who had some of the same political and social leanings of those we call MAGA today. I don’t care how much of an exalted office anyone held, how much money they made, or what pulpit they preached from. If they were accused of the things mentioned in those files they would have been quietly disappeared from the earth, never to be heard from, and mostly not spoken of again.

If this crowd of criminals and pedophiles and their supporters keep talking about Making America Great Again, I assume they are referring to that period of time when I was growing up. There’s a large part of me that thinks in despicable cases like these that perhaps we should. If only to mete out punishment the way it was done then.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

At some point the rock breaks

Not many words to share. Sad. Beyond angry about the tragic events in Minneapolis today. Yet another death, yet more of the same tired lies justifying it. This isn’t the first death at the hands of this abhorrent administration. It is another. There have been several since ICE was unleashed on this country. There will be more.

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The administration is saying what you expect them to. It’s a litany we’re all too familiar with. Leaders in Minneapolis and around the country are saying what you expect them to also, another litany trying to prevent what I maintain is all but inevitable.

There is no way out of this but through it. Through it is perilous. So is standing put.

When you’re caught between a rock and hard place, at some point the rock breaks and the hard place gets harder.

I Don’t Like This Day

Remembering January 6th Drives Me Into A Rage

I don’t like this day.

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Rather I don’t like the anniversary of this day, January 6th, what it reminds me of, and all that it has come to mean.

We still live in a country where we excuse those that pretend what happened didn’t actually happen and wasn’t caused by a delusional, sadistic, power hungry pedophile and his followers.

We live in a country where we’ve just blown past the fact that he was elected president again, pardoned all of those who attacked the U.S. capitol in his name, and continues, with far too much help from his guilty cohort of cowards, to fill the airwaves and digital world with enough obvious lies to choke a million mules.

I don’t like this day.

A few men could have stopped this madness from extending beyond this day. A few men who chose not to. It was in their grasp. If American history survives this madness their names should live in infamy. I’m not sure America or American history will, but I can’t wait to piss on their graves.

And now we now live in a world, not just a country, that he’s tearing apart piece by piece just because he can, so he and others can profit from it.

I don’t like this day.

It’s a despicable, unerasable orange stain on 250 years that already bear enough stains.

It’s a day that ripped open the secret underbelly filled with the hateful and hating beasts that have always lived among us and spilled those entrails all over the myths we clung to, falsely assuming they held us together.

I don’t like this day.

It’s a day that will haunt me the rest of those I have left and leaves me sick to my stomach and trembling with rage about the future.

It’s a day that makes me contemplate doing horrible things. It’s a day that makes me hate.

I don’t like this day. Rather, I hate this day.

Phillip Bump and Clumsy Nazi Comparisons

Not the time for historical nuance

Phillip Bump, a thinker and writer I greatly admire has an intriguing, yet troubling piece titled There Are Limits To The Hitler-Trump Comparison. Just Ask These Historians. I say troubling, not because I disagree with his points, but because I think it misses the larger one everyone is too afraid to acknowledge.

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It is intriguing on an intellectual level, and nuanced on several levels. But I hasten to say that we’re living in a moment without much room for nuance, and as for the intellectual part? I’m afraid we’re suffering losses there as well.

Looking to explore further whether or not the Trump administration’s use of anti-immigrant rhetoric could be compared to the Nazi movement, Bump reached out to several historians who “generally agree that while the comparison was imperfect, it was not completely unfair.” I urge you to read Bump’s column before continuing here.

I won’t argue with the callbacks to the history of America’s own xenophobia. Let’s remember where the Nazis claimed to get some of their ideas from. As a species we seem to be entirely incapable of finding news ways to diminish and dehumanize those we don’t like or want to scapegoat on the path to power. Nor will I argue that it depends on what part of the Nazi timeline you drop into when making comparisons.

I will say this.

While no one knows how any of this will turn out, the fact that we’re living through any resemblance, no matter how clumsy or incoherent it may be in comparison to past political movements here or abroad, should be more than enough to call us up short and put a stop to it.

Bump states:

So Trump’s allies have a point: Comparisons to Nazism, particularly the late-stage Nazism with which we are all familiar, are imperfect. The president’s administration mirrors that party’s ascent a century ago in other ways — its bullying, the collapse of opposition from the existing establishment — that sharpen the criticism. If it is on the same path forward, though, there is still a long way to go, and a lot of time to change direction.

The comparisons may indeed be imperfect. However, every time civilization has beaten back these ill winds it has had to do so imperfectly as well, having to stoop below many of the values we rallied to save in the name of those values.

There may indeed still be time for a change in direction. That said, I would argue that the longer the weak-kneed and cowardly capitulators let this go on, not only does that window of time close, but it makes it harder to pry back open even after all of the glass has been broken.

(Image from Claudio Divizia on Shutterstock)

Change The No Kings Day Protests Into Something Larger

Turn it into the No Kings Blackout

Forgive me. I’m dreaming again.

October 18 is shaping up as another crazy day in America. The organizations behind “No Kings” protests have targeted that day for another nationwide series of protests against the policies and ineptitude of the Trump regime. For brand recognition and a lack of creativity this one is called “No Kings Day 2.”

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That said, the Trump regime and its cronies are trying to brand these efforts as a “Day of Hate.” So I imagine we’ll see all kinds of mischief.

That’s all well and good and I’m glad to see this kind of organizing from the “No Kings” movement. But as I’ve said before, these efforts need to extend far beyond a day of protests. Until they extend into the week and keep going I don’t believe they’ll change the dynamic.

Of course I could be wrong, depending on what happens with the government shut down that’s now in effect and if Congress ever chooses to come back in session again.

I still think folks should think bigger. Why not encourage people to just shut down and stay in for the weekend or longer. Turn off the TVs and the computers. Do no shopping. Do no traveling. Make it a “No Kings Blackout.”

Just like with protests in the street you’ll never mobilize everyone, but if enough people turned off and tuned out for a period of time there might be a chance for a larger impact than expecting large turnouts. Encourage folks to stay home and read a book or rake some leaves.

Of course, that takes away one of the motivations behind any protest, which is to seek and draw attention. So, as I said, it’s just a dream on my part.

We Have To Do Better. At What Exactly?

The time is out of joint

We’re burning up the words and phrases we use for comfort faster than out-of-control wildfires. We’re drowning meaning under flash floods of ravaging frequency. We’re dancing around sensitivities like so many angels on the head of a pin, ignoring that the pin has been smashed into smithereens by a sledge hammer. We keep looking for better angels of our nature to appear but they seem to have given up the ghost trying to reign things in. The time is out of joint.

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The meaningless phrase of the moment this morning that has gotten my goat is “we have to do better.”

What the hell does that even mean?

We pretend that everyone cares about the outrage of political violence. Not everyone does. There are those that care only enough to use it to their own advantage and want to see more of it. Yes, it’s about power. But it’s increasingly become about the money, because you can make boatloads of it preaching hate and division. You know, free speech and all of that.

We have to do better.

There’s no “better” to do when it comes to language, because language only expresses what is felt inside. About self. About others. About domination. About fear. And when the “better” is about better profits… well, that’s the world we live in and at the moment it’s what’s making the world spin faster.

Step away from politics for a second.

When a sports team loses and coaches and players say “we have to do better” or “we have to play better” it means nothing. Of course they do. They lost.

When a business doesn’t meet its sales targets, they always say “we have to do better.” Unless of course they’re spinning losses into wins hoping no one pays attention.

Shift back to political world.

The spinning happens there as well, with a speed that can burn through the surface it’s spinning on. Yet, it’s a bit late to want to do better after the bullet has struck a target so broadly painted.

We can no longer expect appeals to better angels or doing better to work. It’s a naive call to a different past that in many respects never existed, even though on the surface it seemed to. We should no longer be afraid of phrases like civil war, because in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in one. People are being killed in their homes, at rallies, in schools, just about in any place. Sad fact of history, what we want to believe is random violence by extremists always happens before someone declares that a war is on. But hey, we’ve got a deranged lunatic of a leader who wants to meme one into being, while we spend so much time trying to figure out what we know is the why of it.

You can argue that the extremists aren’t the ones with the guns, but the ones with the big mouths and the AI bots at their command. No one is going to clamp down on the rhetoric any more than they are going to clamp down on guns, and it has already bubbled over into a toxic stew. How are you going to “do better” when all sides claim their way is the better way? I don’t have an answer for that question, because I’m afraid I actually know the answer and there’s nothing “better” about it.

The only thing we have to “do better” at is recognizing the horrors of the moment we’re in and facing it for the reality that it is. You and I certainly don’t want to see and hear what we’re seeing and hearing. But we’re too far down that road to not acknowledge we’ve arrived at a terrible place.

Hamlet says:

‘The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!’

I feel like we’re all caught in Hamlet’s dilemma. Wanting to fix it, but afraid to the point of cursing what will eventually need to be done.

The Reason Trump Won’t Declare Martial Law

Follow the money

Drip, drip, drip. The daily dilly dallying on the margins that the Trump administration keeps doling out continues. Horror after horror is revealed on this fascist march into demolishing the world’s oldest democracy. But the money keeps rolling in.

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The ongoing debate as to whether or not these despicable actions are distractions is in and of itself a meaningless distraction. We’re essentially living under a dictatorship already, and yet the putzes with power can’t really go there. Doing so would cut their mother’s milk off at the teat.

There’s a reason for the pace of things. There’s a reason why Trump hasn’t just declared a full national emergency and implemented martial law and shut the place down. That reason is political fundraising. That’s where the money is. That’s where the suckers are.

Without elections the con men and women can’t shake down the public, corporations, and foreign countries for political donations. Cut off that cash flow and you cut the power, quicker than flipping a switch. It’s not just money for candidates and causes. It’s money for consultants, think tanks, and the advertising dependent media. Declare martial law and the spinning wheel stops.

In order to keep the money flowing there needs to be an opposition. Without one it would be all about selling meme coins, fake gold phones, and silly shoes. The shake downs would still continue, just on a different levels. Gifts, grifts and gunpoint.

Of course the silver lining is all of those fundraising emails would stop.

(Image from Freddie Colins on Unsplash)

You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.

Bending Over Backwards To Bend The Knee

These suck-ups suck.

The idiomatic phrase, “bending the knee” is defined something like this:

“To swear fealty or allegiance to another person. To submit to or show reverence toward a divine power. To show undue deference, obedience, or support for someone or something.”

Focus for a moment on the word “undue” above. It’s the key.

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“Undue” is defined as not appropriate, warranted, or justified; excessive or overextended.

There’s no point really in being duly or unduly outraged any longer by cowardly corporate titans, academic institutions, legal firms, media mavens, and politicians bending the knee to the child rapist and convicted felon Donald Trump. Capitulation and public humiliation has become the name of the game for those who’ve lost any sense of honor and dignity. It appears now that the game has moved into a different quarter, to see who can be the most unduly outrageous in bootlicking and ass kissing.

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When CEOs like Apple’s Tim Cook start bearing ostentatious gifts featuring his company’s treasured and expensively protected branding on a glass plaque, mounted on gold, you have to wonder just how little self-respect these once corporate giants have for themselves, much less their companies.

Sure, they will say it is to protect the business, market share, and their stock holders. That’s largely true. When threatened with a corporate beheading, I’m sure most would prefer keeping their corporate head on their corporate shoulders, shrinking and cowering that they may be. I guess in the circles they travel in, it’s cooler to be a part of the cruel and vulgar crowd that’s grabbed them by the short hairs and made them squeal like so many pigs in a pen, than it is to stand for what’s right.

I’ve given up being shocked, disappointed, and pissed off when things like this happen. It’s become so routine. I look forward to the day when I may run into some of these cowards by chance and laughing in their face, after I spit in it. They may deserver their bonuses after keeping the profits rolling in, but they more than deserve public derision.

I’ve had to swallow some shit in my lifetime catering to donors in the not-for-profit arts game. I get the impulse, and I get the desperation. I’m proud to say I’ve turned away some donations. I’m also ashamed to say I had to accept a few with conditions I didn’t like. So, I get it. I will say that as personally demeaning as the latter instances were, they never jeopardized the image of the company I was working for. I’ll carry my indignity and the tasted of that shit from those instances to my grave.

If this chapter in the decline of humanity ever turns around the only thing certain is that the the shame these corporate, academic, legal, media, and political dwarves have earned will forever stain them and the brands they represent. They will be duly branded.

You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.