History – Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3

Sunday Morning Reading

Searching for normal in abnormal places

Time for a little Sunday Morning Reading. Sharing good writing is a normal thing to do. Maybe that’s abnormal. Don’t know. Don’t care. Defining normal is a tricky subjective thing. But then trying to define most things these days feels, well…almsot abnormal.

Just be normal. Is that a “new normal” or last week’s “old normal?” Do we crave normality? Does it matter? Normally, I’d have more to say, but instead check out JA Westenberg’s Just Be Normal About Things.

Mathew Ingram takes on the subject of consciousness, one of the latest discussions bopping around the bits and bytes surrounding AI, with his piece, Is Atlantic Writer Ted Chiang Conscious? How Do We Know? If you ask me, that fact that this is being discussed calls whatever the idea of consciousness is into question. Doesn’t feel normal. For that matter doesn’t feel abnormal either. Just weird.

Mike Masnick states the obvious in CEOs Who Think AI Replaces Their Employees Are Just Bad CEOs.

David Todd McCarty calls his piece The Slow News Moment. I like his description better. “How we became terrorized by the 24-hour news cycle and what we might do to combat the charade of exigency.” Perhaps less is more normal.

“We are being robbed by the worst people in the world,” says Kelly Hayes in The Heist State. Spot on, given that blatant thievery is the new normal these days.

Everywhere you look life is a scam. That is indeed far too normal. Neil Steinberg takes on one that targeted him and other writers in We Love Your Book! Now Give Us Money. Funny stuff.

Protect The Weird, Slow and Inefficient. Natasha MH thinks AI might one day become as invisible a tool to the process of writing as the typewriter did in its day. But look again. The tools don’t matter as much as the desire.

(Image from Justin Simmonds on Unsplash.)

Thanks for reading. Feel free to subscribe if you want. It’s free. If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. This site does not use affilate links.

Trump’s Name Finally Comes Off The Kennedy Center

May his named be erased from so much more.

Well, that happened. Finally. Trump’s desecrating name was finally removed from The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts after a judge ruled to make it so.

Photo of worker removing Donald Trump's name from the Kennedy Center by AP photographer Cliff Owen

It took a while, thanks to some legal cry-babying from Trump’s legal bunglers trying to soothe his injured and fragile ego. The act didn’t quite meet the June 12th deadline, but eventually under the cover of darkness and behind a curtain, the name came down after the public, via live streams on the Internet, got lessons in erecting scaffolding. The photo above was captured by Cliff Owen of the Associated Press and so far is the only one I’ve seen with a worker’s hands removing one of the letters.

The Kennedy Center has told the judge that all references to name have been removed from the building, website, and printed materials.

Of course the pedophile-in-chief’s name should have never been put there in the first place. It was a perversion. The removal is a small victory. Even if largely symbolic in a wellspring of atrocities. There’s no telling how long it will take to rebuild the damage he’s done to the Kennedy Center as an institution and the rest of what he’s destroyed.

But it is a bright moment in all of the darkness and hopefully breeds more anger and anticipation for ripping to shreds any of the other atrocious marks this less than human, but very real human monstrosity has visited on all of us.

The facade certainly looks better.

As Neil Steinberg of the Chicago Sun-Times reminds us:

I want to live long enough to dance in the street when that happens. Let there be bonfires to light the night skies.

Update: The photo above of the facade with Trump’s name removed is from pre-Trump days. Apparently the tarp that covered the removal is still there and may be for some time.

Thanks for reading. You can subscribe to this blog if you care to. 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. This site does not use affilate links.

The Kennedy Center Saga Continues

A glimpse of hope for the future

With so many things fundamentally broken during this second Trump administration there’s a momentary sigh of relief when it appears that something, anything might be put back together again.

This week U.S.District Judge Christopher Cooper ruled that Trump’s appointed Kennedy Center board exceeded its authority when they decided to slap Trump’s name on the building and remake the building in his imagined image. Taking a look at any photo of the remade Oval Office and the plans for his ballroom, his gigantic arch, and the wrestling ring he’s built for his birthday beat down, which he somehow likens to the Eiffel Tower, is enough to make anyone with any semblance of taste in their mouth spit in disgust.

The ruling essentially says stop and take the offensive name off of the building. The Kennedy Center administration has already ordered employees to remove the sign and also strip all references from other signage, brochures, the website and to remove email signatures and letterhead by June 12th. The move is being hailed as a victory.

Cathartic and symbolic as removing the name may be, it can’t possibly make up for the damage done to the revered national center for the arts. It’s a start, and it certainly kindles hopes and dreams of doing the same to much of the defacing and defecating this one man wrecking crew has visited on Washington DC and the rest of the country.

Take for example the story of the National Symphony Orchestra. After many acts and organizations cut ties with the Kennedy Center rather than being associated with the madness, Trump closed the Kennedy Center for a two-year period of renovations, leaving the NSO without a home. Ben Folds, previous artistic advisor, (previous only because he stepped down when Trump took over), has released a letter calling for an “outpouring of public support.” Saying without such a push the NSO may not survive. You can read the full letter at this Instagram link. That will be a hard task and I wish them success.

I’ve said ever since Donald Trump came on the political scene that given the grifter and sexual predator’s previous life as a real estate developer we needed to understand that in order to construct something new a developer in his/her heart needed to also love demolishing something first. He’s certainly more than demonstrated a penchant for demolition and desecrating.

Here’s hoping one day we all get a chance to enjoying demolishing the things he’s touched in this horrible age.

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. This site does not use affilate links.

The Emperor’s New Car Wreck

A recycled, decaying spectacle

Once upon a time there was a guy named Hans Christian Anderson who wrote a story about an emperor who was exposed (literally) by his own vanity. We’re living that now here in the U.S. I’m actually amazed that this administration hasn’t banned every copy of The Emperor’s New Clothes, but it’s possible it’s above most of their reading levels.

The emperors new clothes.BltLFigK_Z2aBtTL.

Nothing ever really changes, it just gets recycled. Anderson’s story was actually based on others from Aesop to Persian folktales. So even within the frame we used to think of as American exceptionalism, we can’t claim this farce as our own. It’s like a virus or a comet that comes along every now and then. Or watching a car wreck. Or a train. Perhaps a space ship explode on a launch platform.

Regardless, I do think we’ll probably be able to claim the worst version of the story when this one does come to an end.

It’s more than obvious that Trump and his sloppy lickspittle sycophants can’t run a country, a war, an economy, or apparently not even a big 250th celebration of America’s founding without making a fool of themselves while they dig deeper holes for the rest of us. Small hint: you just need lots of fireworks and a military band. As long as the members meet the height and weight requirements.

They’re good at grifting and making money. For themselves. Apparently there are still enough suckers out there willing to pony up. That’s the only surprising part of our version. Although some who’ve seen enough are looking for new digs in Argentina. I’m guessing the real estate market there will see boom times as others follow. As long as the data centers don’t get there first.

The sinking spectacle is so obvious that it feels like most have started to ignore the water rising around their ankles, hoping they develop webbing between their toes. Those still shocked seem to be adopting a wait it out attitude. That makes some sense. There’s nothing really to be done until he’s no longer on the planet. Although I do have my doubts that his courtiers will even announce that he’s gone once he passes, out of fear for their own lives. We might even get a new definition of what death is. We’ll all be living through a Death of Stalin moment. Which is a shame because that movie was actually a good one. And funny. Watch it and see that part of our future.

Or just read The Emperor’s New Clothes. Not for anything new. There’s no insight to be gleaned with your eyes shut or turned away from what we’re seeing. But it’s better than watching the literal decay displayed daily on some screen or the other.

One day there’s going to be a large cleanup on aisle six. It will probably be as messy as it is glorious.

Pusillanimous Pardons and Immutable Immunity

The old rules no longer apply

When I check in on social media these days there’s a disturbing, yet comical, theme that runs through my feeds. Every time Trump or his toady enablers whips out some wide open act of corruption like a perverted exhibitionist my feeds fill up with naive anguish, hair pulling, and occasionally the gnashing of teeth.

Shutterstock 2574343845.

“Someone needs to stop this!”

“Congress must stand up!”

“How can they get away with this?”

What a waste of bandwidth and AI training.

In the first two instances there is no one left to stop any of this. Those folks have all gone home, or they’re cashing in after joining the circus. Congress doesn’t exist as anything other than a way to accrue vacation days, pensions, and fundraising opportunities.

As to “How can they get away with this?” One word folks.

Pardons.

Ok, two words.

Pardons and immunity.

When SCOTUS let Trump off the hook by conferring presidential immunity for official acts, he got permission to double down and do whatever he wants to do. Who knew gleefully committing crimes could be official acts?

Those following and enabling him, do so knowing full well that unless he dies before signing their pardons (he probably already has), they’re home free as well. Remember, accepting a pardon doesn’t erase the underlying crime, it just pardons you for criming in the company of a friend with pardon power and immunity.

For those who haven’t figured it out, it’s a risk free criminal enterprise.

It’s amazing how brave you might think you are, when you know you won’t be held accountable. It’s not bravery. It’s actually servitude.

It’s also amazing how naive we can be thinking any of the old rules still apply or that someone is going to ride to the rescue. No one wants to admit the jig is up because that ends the outrage gravy train, and is painful to contemplate.

But here we are.

(Image from Kelly Marken on Shutterstock)

Sunday Morning Reading

Looking beyond and beneath the words on the page

Good writing is good writing. But underneath the surface or the subject matter of good writing, you find subtext, perhaps buried, that surprises beyond the words on the page, the summaries, and the top lines that often reduce more than broaden. That’s the case with this week’s edition of Sunday Morning Reading. Read on, dig beneath, and enjoy.

An over-the-shoulder view of a bronze statue depicting a young person with short hair sitting on a stone bench and reading a large open book. A small bronze bird is perched on the top right corner of the book's pages. The statue is situated outdoors in a paved park area with grass visible in the background.

First up, is a piece by film critic Sonny Bunch, discussing The Weird Right-Wing Freakout Over ‘They Odyssey’ Yes, it’s about casting and race and history and myths and all those things. On the surface a tired argument. Dig below the controversy, and you might find a morsel or two worth chewing on, but in reality only being upset about if you believe in exercising or conjuring demons through outrage. Maybe someday we’ll all eventually end up back where we started from. But like Odysseus, the homecoming might feel as hazardous as the journey we’re putting ourselves through to get there.

Things are certainly screwed up in U.S. Politics, but we’re not alone. In fact, we’ve got more than enough company. Great Britain is having its moment as well. Ian Dunt’s piece There Is A Light That Never Goes Out is one heckuva piece of writing that beneath the stormy surface of British politics, points to the problems far and wide and far below, regardless of what flag your ship might be flying when it sinks.

The trial between Elon Musk and Sam Altman over OpenAI and whatever the hell all of that means, sounds like a circus where the clowns won’t leave the center ring. M.G. Siegler takes a look at some of the shenanigans in Take Me Down To The “Amateur City.”

Rex Reed was, if nothing else, a show into and of himself as a film critic. I always found him both entertaining and I occasionally agreed with his acerbic criticism. For better or worse he set a standard that presaged much of what passes for criticism today. He passed away this week. Merin Curotto has written quite a remembrance piece that’s so much more than about the one man. The Rex Reed I Knew (1938-2026) is worth a read even if you weren’t a fan or don’t have any sense of who Rex Reed was.

Alessandra Ram explores what happens when you might be married to a man who is smitten with AI in Meet The Sad Wives Of AI. I think this could also apply across any way the genders choose to partner. I’m sure there’s a promise out there somewhere that AI will fix all of this. Right?

Chicago baseball is having a moment with both of its major league teams doing reasonably well and playing each other in the Crosstown Classic. There were and are great expectations for the Chicago Cubs, not so much for the Chicago White Sox, which is why the exciting level of play on the South Side is capturing some of the North Siders glow. In the midst of all of that, this week marked the passing of Sam Sianis, the legendary owner of the Billy Goat Tavern, who placed a curse on the Chicago Cubs back in 1945 when the owner wouldn’t let him bring his goat into the stadium. Paul Sullivan has a great write up on the history, the myths, and the lore. Check out Sam Sianis And The Curse Of The Billy Goat Remind Chicago Fans Why We Love Baseball And It’s Myths.

When you do look beneath the surface of a moment, a life, an obituary, or perhaps even the remains of what’s left, sometimes you find more than you might have imagined. Archaeologists Find Egyptian Mummy Buried With The ‘Iliad’ by Franz Lidz tells such a tale. Homer says, “the sort of words a man says is the sort he hears in return.”

I’ll add, the sort one reads to that as well.

(Photo by the author)

If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. This site does not use affilate links.

Civil War Revisited

Hard times have come again

Twice a week, every week, I post the following on social media.

A Mastodon post from Warner Crocker that says, Your twice, now continuing, weekly reminder that we're still in a Civil War.

Set aside for the moment the arguments that some toss back at me that we’re not in a Civil War because we’re not fighting with guns and bullets. I find that argument naive, even if there’s a degree of truth about it. That said, it’s my contention that much of what we’ve been living through for the last decade is not only a continuation of the American Civil War that we thought ended in 1865, but an out in the open fight over the same issues. Denying that, I do find naive.

Yes, it’s about race, and yes, it’s also about so much more. But so was that conflict that’s bubbled and boiled since the founding of this country that finally spilled over into a conflagration at a time that men thought was the only way to solve that large of a disagreement. The question may have been called on the battlefields, but the larger questions were never settled.

I do find it ironic that a New York hustler and pedophile is leading the South’s charge this time around. The South could never rise again on its own, it appears.

But then as playwright Lanford Wilson says in his play, Talley’s Folly,

…there is New York City, isolated neighborhoods in Boston, and believe me, the rest is all the South.

The recent U.S. Supreme Court decision, Callais v. Lousiana, essentially dismantling the Voting Rights Act of 1965 by declaring that we’re so over racism that we don’t need voting rights protections any longer has ratcheted up the fight and placed it squarely in the halls of state capitals. Given how the U.S. Congress has abrogated any real responsibility on and off for generations, it seems fitting and also ironic that the power will now reside in the states.

The new battlefields in those state capitals are all about redistricting and gerrymandering with states rushing into special sessions to cut out voters of one party or the other in some meaningless attempt to control who has the majority in that same inept U.S. Congress. I say meaningless, because that’s body that has essentially fought back and forth on this since the fighting ended in 1865.

However any and all of these redistricting battles turn out, and given the current number of states controlled by the forces that somehow still call themselves Republicans, what happens in Washington DC will be pre-ordained long before the swearing in of each new Congress takes place.

As long as states can continue to fight using political cartographers and gerrymandering pens as their weapons of choice, things might ebb and flow a bit, but not enough to radically alter the picture or turn back the clock for at least a couple of generations.

Of all of the terrible things that have happened since 2016, I think this just might be the worst of it. I hope I’m wrong. I doubt I am. Stephen Foster’s 1854 song that pleaded for relief, Hard Times Come Again No More, might just become popular again.

May 1st General Strike Planned. Hope It Matters

I’d like to see more urgency

There is a General Strike planned for this Friday, May 1. Quite frankly, I think it’s just going to be another in a series that have featured No Kings themed protests in the past year.

I don’t mean to demean the effort. Glad to see it happening. That said, given how each day brings something new that’s quickly absorbed into the swelling sponge of sewage that is the zeitgeist these days, I just don’t see any potential for real impact.

One of the problems with this protest is they missed the marketing boat. I get and appreciate the approach and historical tie in of calling a general strike on May 1. But those historical resonances are there for some, unfortunately not for all. Old rules don’t apply.

Also, given what I believe is still an urgent moment, that urgency seems to be fading a bit. I think the promotional pitches should have called the event MAY DAY and played that for all of the contextual danger it implies. Even the “Hold The Line” slug feels like stasis compared to movement.

I can understand the lack of urgency. There’s a growing sense that the next big moment isn’t going to happen until the midterm elections. Perhaps that’s justified in the wake of no real movement so far. But that actually makes the struggle more challenging, at the same time ground continues to be lost on so many fronts that won’t be easy to change.

But even though these efforts feel like they have weakening impacts, they do keep up some pressure. So, in the end I guess that matters.

Here’s hoping it does.

Sunday Morning Reading

“Scars speak more loudly than the sword that caused them.” – Paulo Coelho

It figures. You plan a weekend of yard work and Mother Nature reminds you she controls more than you do. In these parts that makes this a perfect chilly Sunday for a little Sunday Morning Reading. I’m not sure how, but a theme emerges in the collection of links I’m sharing this weekend, somehow suggesting that regardless of our feelings, the forces that seem to be conspiring against us just keep rolling. At some point, just like with the shifts in the weather, you just want some unshifting force to make it all stop.

Here in Chicago we’re seeing a number of theatre spaces closing. (We’re also seeing a few open.) On the national stage, we’re watching with dismay, anger, and sadness as The Kennedy Center is being shut down by cultural barbarians. Josef Palermo had an inside seat to that dismantling and tells the story in My Front-Row Seat To The Kennedy Center Implosion.

And while Madison Square Garden is more a venue for pure entertainment than the arts, the story about how its owner is using surveillance on its patrons and employees that upset the powers that be is a harbinger of things to come in all arenas of our lives. Check out The Shocking Secrets of Madison Square Garden’s Surveillance Machine by Noah Shachtman and Robert Silverman.

Having experimented a bit with Artificial Intelligence in seeking information about a statue this weekend, my ongoing suspicions that this “way of the future” isn’t ready for today, much less tomorrow. The technology might be not ready for prime time, but the hype has never been. Kyle Chayka says A.I. Has A Message Problem Of It’s Own Making. I like this quote in the subhead, “If you tell people that your product will upend their way of life, take their jobs, and possibly threaten humanity, they might believe you.” True enough. And if those things are as incompetent as humans, what’s the damn point?

It’s all math. That’s one way to sum up any computing activity. Unless it comes to emotion. And yet, some think feelings are somewhere in the numbers. Mike Elgan writes, No, Math Doesn’t Have Feelings in response to those who must not have any feelings of their own, but are trying to add that into the AI equation.

Gaby Del Valle, says The Only Way To Fight Deepfakes Is By Making Deepfakes. Sounds like an arms race to me. We should be up in arms about it.

Speaking of arms races, Gideon Lewis-Kraus looks at AI in the war that isn’t a war, that’s over every week, but begins again every weekend once the markets close in How Project Maven Put AI Into The Kill Chain.

Apologies for so much AI linkage this week, but it’s been on my mind lately, especially since the news of Mythos broke. It’s the latest demon to fly out of Pandora’s box, and I’m afraid it’s not the last. Margie Murphy, Jake Bleiberg, and Patrick Howell O’Neill examine How Anthropic Learned Mythos Was Too Dangerous For The Wild.

CNN has a report by Saskya Vandoorne, Kara Fox, Niamh Kennedy, Eleanor Stubbs, and Marco Chacon called Exposing A Global Rape Academy. It’s a hard, but I think necessary read considering the topic is just how horrible humans can be to one another. Maybe we should hope the robots develop feelings. Too many humans seem to have stopped developing theirs.

Gail Beckerman says If You Want A Better World, Act Like You Live In It. I concur.

And to close out this week, Scars is a short story by Sigrid Nunez. Some scars can’t be seen. The ones we’re watching form daily, can be.

(Photo by the author.)

Insanity Marches On. Now’s The Time To Stop It

You don’t see any borders between countries from space.

Insanity has been on the march for the last decade or so in the guise of Donald Trump. In his latest flight of madness, a wounded ego-fueled and dementia-addled rant, he’s declared that if Iran doesn’t capitulate to his terms by 8pm EDT, then at his hands, “A whole civilization will die tonight, never to be brought back again.” I guess he’s hoping for big ratings.

Art002e009287~orig 2.

It may be Taco Tuesday, and this may indeed all be another bluff. It may be a real threat. Who knows? I don’t think it matters. It’s a dangerous corner he’s backed himself and the world into. Either way, everyone is going to lose more than anyone stands to gain.

Don’t get me wrong. Certainly it matters if he launches an attack, regardless of whatever form that might take. But the sheer inane insanity of making such a statement proves for, I don’t know, about the millionth time that he doesn’t belong anywhere near any decision making process that can affect other humans.

Possible bomb damage assessments aside, the damage has already been done. Those words have further pried open the lid to Pandora’s box and led to a much more dangerous future, regardless of what happens, and further frayed whatever is left of the reputation the American fabric stands for. You can argue that he’s already destroyed one civilization hours before his 8pm deadline.

I’m glad to see that emergency protests are being hastily arranged around the country.

CleanShot 2026-04-07 at 13.42.

As dangerous as the chaos of this moment is, in my opinion we’ve reached the point when piling chaos on top of chaos might be the only way out of this moment’s danger and the larger incipient danger behind it. I’m sorry to say that. But in my view, that’s the truth of it.

I’m even sorrier (and angrier) to say that the Democratic political leadership continues adding to its reputation for feckless fighting back. Calls for Congress to come back to Washington from a vacation, or the cabinet to invoke the 25th amendment are as feeble as they come in the face of the cowardly dynamic in a capital populated by political eunuchs.

If ever there was a Democrat who wanted to separate him or herself from the pack of wannabe future contenders, assuming there is another presidential election of consequence, today might just be the opportune moment to come out of hiding and meme making and call people to the streets instead of falling back on modes of legislative and constitutional provisions essentially rendered moot. Leading in picking up the pieces won’t count for much if you continue to allow the pieces to shatter.

Who knows how this day will end. I believe it could end differently if enough citizens, yearning for leadership, found someone willing to lead, or lacking that and tired of waiting, take matters into their own hands. It won’t be pretty. It’s happened in other countries. It’s never been pretty. But there’s nothing about tomorrow that promises to be pretty regardless of whether Trump backs down (again) or sends humanity backsliding.

Certainly makes one wonder what perspective the astronauts currently circling the Moon might have looking back on this troubled planet. As former astronaut Sunita Williams once said,

You don’t see any borders between countries from space. That’s hand-made and one experiences it only when you return to Earth.