Why am I irked? The weather in New Orleans has been shitty. It’s been cloudy, cold, and wet. Typically, January is a dry month, but not this year. How irksome is that? You know where this is leading.
It’s time for more vexatious venting about irksome things.
I’m irked that President Biden’s farewell address won’t get as much attention as it deserves. The warning about the techno-industrial complex evoked Eisenhower’s 1961 warning about the military-industrial complex. Anything that irks the tech broligarchs is okay by me.
I’m irked that liberals still can’t count. Some people to my left claim that Democratic Senators could somehow dominate the confirmation process. How? GOPers have the votes. If they confirm Dirty Hands Hegseth and the other terrible Trump nominees, it’s on them.
Counting is one of the most important political skills of all. Just ask Count Basie:
Count Basie never irks me.
I’m irked by Pam Bondi. She talks a good game until the subject is Trump adjacent or sensitive. Then she lies, equivocates, and pretends she’s not just another Trump sycophant. As a former Florida Attorney General, she’s more qualified than some of the other nominees but Bondi is likely to be a blond Bill Barr once confirmed.
I’m irked by the smirking and mendacious testimony by Pete Hegseth. He’s borrowed a page from the Trump playbook and gone on the attack. It doesn’t matter that some Republican Senators expressed concerns about his resume. In fact, his resume is as thin as consommé, but he has the votes.
Hegseth’s catch phrase has been “anonymous smears.” Anything said against him is an anonymous smear even when it’s on the record. If you ignore the so-called anonymous smears, he’s still an unqualified douchebag. At least Donald Rumsfeld was a qualified douchebag.
I’m irked that the legacy media is treating all of this as normal. Ain’t nothing normal about appointing anti-vaxxers, sycophants, and Russian stooges to positions of power. It’s hard to remain a glass half full person with all the broken glass scattered about the political landscape.
Repeat after me: MAGA loves the sound of breaking glass.
I’m irked that Facebook has abandoned fact checking but not enough to quit. I didn’t join the platform because I liked Zuck’s politics and I’m not quitting because he’s bent the knee to the Kaiser of Chaos. Facebook is a useful way of staying in touch with friends near and far and that hasn’t changed. Hell, I still have a moribund Twitter/X presence and Elon Musk is a raging Fascist.
The downside of staying is stupid shit like this spread by horseshoe people like my boyhood friend Trevor:
Trevor thinks this is plausible because 9/11 conspiracy chatter is his jam. Oy just oy.
I’m irked that the Clownfish is channeling the worst aspects of the Kingfish. Huey Long interfered with local self-government in Orleans Parish, as does Jeff Landry. The state is clearing out homeless encampments in preparation for the Super Bowl. City government was not consulted, the Clownfish don’t play that. He knows what’s best for New Orleans even though he hates us.
Finally, I’m irked that I have a mild case of writer’s block and haven’t been as prolific as usual. There’s a lot to write about but I’m feeling down after the drumbeat of bad news that’s still pounding away. The two best posts I’ve written this year HBO’s Yacht Rock and Ill Wind Blows Los Angeles No Good were both a struggle to finish. In fact, one could say I’m as cold as ice.
The last word goes to Foreigner:
