We had another boil water advisory in New Orleans this week. I’ve gotten used to them by now and don’t freak out. I’m married to a microbiologist so we ignore the “don’t shower” bit. It’s okay to bathe as long as one doesn’t have wounds or open sores. Besides, I’m not about to be stinky because the Sewerage and Water Board can’t get its shit together. Fuck that shit.
Oscar Update. It looks as if doubling his head meds and changing his diet has done the trick. Knock on wood. He hasn’t marked in several days and doesn’t look and act like a scaredy cat. His tail is in the air when he walks instead of drooping. Let’s hope it lasts. Knock on wood. I had forgotten about that live Bowie version. Make sure you click on that last link.
In other New Orleans news, I wrote a second column for the Bayou Brief about the Mayors race. The campaign is so dull and listless that I refer to the candidates as The B-List.
How About You? was written by Burton Lane and Ralph Freed for the 1941 MGM musical Babes on Broadway starring Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland. We have two versions for your enjoyment. First, the Chairman of the Board with a Nelson Riddle arranged version from an album you’ll hear more about later. Second, Harry Nilsson did an album of standards with *another* Sinatra arranger, Gordon Jenkins. Harry’s version was featured in Python alum Terry Gilliam’s best film, The Fisher King.
Heh, heh, heh. We just saw Robin William’s furry butt, he said in his best Beavis and Butthead voice. On that supremely lowbrow note, lets jump to the break.
Republican attempts to repeal the ACA started before the ink was dry on the bill. After the 2010 Teabagger wave election, the House GOP’s hobby was voting for a bill that could not become law because there was a real president ready to veto it. But the bad repeal and replace idea refuses to die. It has more lives than a bad cat thanks to Little Lindsey and one of my senators. And that is why Doctor/Senator Bill Cassidy is malaka of the week.
There’s a lot of talk about the Zombie Health Care bill. The analogy is apt but trite due to the gazillion zombie shows and movies out there. I prefer to think of the Graham-Cassidy atrocity as belonging to the Frankenstein family of horror flicks wherein the characters are reanimated, not undead. The current clusterfuck reminds me of this scene from The Bride of Frankenstein:
That was a (James) Whale of a movie but Graham-Cassidy is an ugly, mean-spirited bill that should be buried, not reanimated.
2017 has been a weird year in American politics but this week *may* take the cake. We have the supporters of a reality show host president* telling a late night talk show host to STFU and stay out of politics. This is more surreal than a gallery full of gory Dali paintings or any Edward Gorey image for that matter.
The Bill Cassidy-Jimmy Kimmel face-off has really been something. The chat show host has accused the Gret Stet Solon of “lying to my face.” Doctor/Senator Cassidy has compounded the lie by asserting that Graham-Cassidy passes the Jimmy Kimmel Test when it clearly does not. The comedian has asked Cassidy to stop invoking his name but Cassidy has no shame and is unlikely to do so. He’s the center of attention. What pol would exit such a glaring spotlight?
Here’s a tweet from a certain internet smart ass on the Graham-Cassidy-Kimmel mishigas:
That's why many of us call him Double Bill. The man fleeced our public health system so nothing he does surprises me.
I was referring to the fact that Cassidy double billed LSU for his work when he was quacking his way around the Gret Stet public health care system. Take a gander at my publisher’s recent piece about that at the Bayou Brief. That’s right, Senator Malaka is an expert at ripping off the government and poor people. It’s second nature to this so-called moderate.
I also tweeted about the Jimmy Kimmel factor:
I'm not a Jimmy Kimmel fan. Never found him funny. BUT I applaud his role in the health care debate. Well done, sir. https://t.co/WOM9DfvV6r
I am impressed with Kimmel’s guts and fortitude on this issue. I am ready to light a torch and stand beside him as we storm Double Bill’s castle or some such shit.
A few words about Cassidy. I called him Cassidybot throughout his successful 2014 challenge to incumbent Democratic Senator Mary Landrieu. He is stiff, lifeless with beady, sunken eyes, which makes the Frankenstein monster analogy spot on. Cassidy’s Victor Frankenstein was our old “friend” former Senator David Vitter. Vitter recruited Cassidy to run against Landrieu and dictated his campaign strategy. It involved relentless dog-whistle attacks on then President Obama, especially over the ACA. It worked.
As long as Vitter was in the senate, Cassidy was his creature. He didn’t do anything unless his master approved. I guess he was more like Igor in Young Frankenstein at that point. Vitter’s departure from the political scene left Cassidy adrift: he’s a follower, not a leader. In 2017, Cassidy made fucking up the health care system by fucking over the poor and elderly his life’s work. Graham-Cassidy is the fruit of his labors. I liked him better when he was a fake moderate.
I have no idea what’s going to happen in next week’s vote on this hastily stitched together legislation. It’s the worst version of repeal and replace yet. But it has the aura of respectability of being sponsored by phony moderates like Graham, Cassidy, and Dean Heller whose master is right-wing casino mogul Steve Wynn. It savages Medicaid, which is bad for Louisiana. It stripped away the last bad bill’s provisions to help with the opioid epidemic, which could put a few votes into play. In the end, it may come down to whether or not John McCain believes what he’s said about restoring regular order. Everything about this bill is irregular including the insane deadline of September 30. This is nuts. Believe me.
Here’s hoping that the MSM will stop calling the likes of Graham and Cassidy moderates. This bill is not only procedurally irregular, it is substantively immoderate. The attempt to destroy the ACA was dead until Doctor/Senator Cassidy reanimated this monster. And that is why Double Bill Cassidy is malaka of the week.
Speaking of monsters, the last word goes to Edgar Winter and Rick Derringer:
After scaring the world yesterday, Donald Trump is trying something completely different: accidental comedy. He *is* an accidental president* after all. Trump seems determined to channel two Groucho Marx characters: Captain Spaulding the African Explorer from Animal Crackers and Freedonia President Rufus T. Firefly of Duck Soup fame. That’s right folks, the Insult Comedian has discovered a new country, Nambia:
President Donald Trump on Wednesday praised the health system of an African country that does not exist while speaking at a United Nations working lunch with African leaders.
“In Guinea and Nigeria you fought a horrifying Ebola outbreak,” he said. “Nambia’s health system is increasingly self-sufficient.”
There is no country named Nambia; it was not clear whether Trump had misread the name of Namibia or Zambia.
Asked to clarify, the White House referred TPM to the National Security Council, which did not immediately respond.
Well, at least Trump isn’t Nambia pamby like that Kenyan Mau Mau fake birth certificate dude. He’s an old-fashioned explorer and a president* in the spirit of Rufus T. Firefly as depicted in this tweet by that Krazy (Kat) guy Michael Tisserand:
I actually saw great potential right across the street, to be honest with you, and it was only for the reason that the United Nations was here that that turned out to be such a successful project.
I’m awesome; even the United Nations is about me, me, me, me….
Let’s move on yesterday’s fearful and fearmongering address to the General Assembly. I think the president* was confused and thought he was addressing a rally full of MAGA Maggots instead of furriners. It’s probably a good thing: he might have ordered mass deportations. I think General Kelly was worried about that as he buried his head in his hands during Trump’s tirade. He does that often since becoming Chief of Staff:
Remember when American presidents didn’t put the ass in General Assembly? It was only last fall. Hell, even President Beavis made his scariest speeches at other venues and he put the dip in diplomatic.
Trump echoed Dubya in one way. He implicitly updated the so-called axis of evil: North Korea, Iran, and Venezuela. Venezuela? Say what? They have a shitty, repressive government but they’re not exporting terrorism or even as much oil as they used to. Perhaps Donald wanted to prove he could count to three. Believe me.
No nation on Earth has an interest in seeing this band of criminals arm itself with nuclear weapons and missiles. The United States has great strength and patience, but if it is forced to defend itself or its allies, we will have no choice but to totally destroy North Korea. Rocket man is on a suicide mission for himself and for his regime. The United States is ready, willing, and able, but hopefully this will not be necessary. That’s what the United Nations is all about. That’s what the United Nations is for. Let’s see how they do.
This is not an original insight: the Current Occupant whipped it out, waved his own missile around, and threatened nuclear war. Normal presidents threaten countries with defeat, not obliteration but this president* is totally, totally, totally not normal.
They could also call him Honky Cat, then cry some Crocodile Rock tears…
Ready for some Persian pounding?
The Iranian government masks a corrupt dictatorship behind the false guise of a democracy. It has turned a wealthy country, with a rich history and culture, into an economically depleted rogue state whose chief exports are violence, bloodshed, and chaos.
Notice how Trump didn’t attack their terrible government for being a theocracy? His evangelical supporters would not care for that . They hate Muslims but they love theocracy. One of them is SOB (Son of Billy) Franklin Graham whose name the Insult Comedian insists on mispronouncing. It’s not Gram, Donald. Maybe he’s confused the second generation preacher with a gram of coke. Remember when Trump sniffed his way through a debate with Hillary? Sniff, sniff, sniff.
It’s time for Trump’s speciality, Obama bashing:
The Iran deal was one of the worst and most one-sided transactions the United States has ever entered into. Frankly, that deal is an embarrassment to the United States, and I don’t think you’ve heard the last of it. Believe me.
Being one himself, Trump knows from embarrassment. He would also know from bad deals having been rolled by Chuck and Nancy Smash. Believe me.
Ready to meet the newest member of the axis of evil?
We have also imposed tough calibrated sanctions on the socialist Maduro regime in Venezuela, which has brought a once thriving nation to the brink of total collapse. The socialist dictatorship of Nicolás Maduro has inflicted terrible pain and suffering on the good people of that country.
This corrupt regime destroyed a prosperous nation — prosperous nation, by imposing a failed ideology that has produced poverty and misery everywhere it has been tried. To make matters worse, Maduro has defied his own people, stealing power from their elected representatives, to preserve his disastrous rule. The Venezuelan people are starving, and their country is collapsing. Their democratic institutions are being destroyed. The situation is completely unacceptable, and we cannot stand by and watch.
Threat or empty words? It’s usually the latter when Trump is in dick waving mode. As I said earlier, I dislike the Maduro government but they’re not “exporting revolution” or much of anything else. Besides, you would think that Trump would want to take notes on how to destroy a democracy from the Venezuelans. Nah, too much work. Time to switch on the television. Trump puts the boob in boob tube too.
I was saddened to see how bad the ratings were on the Emmys last night – the worst ever. Smartest people of them all are the "DEPLORABLES."
A Few Small Repairs came out twenty years ago and was recently re-issued in a fancy new edition. It was Shawn Colvin’s commercial breakthrough, became a big damn hit, and won several Grammys. Who doesn’t like a break up album, after all?
I’ve always loved Julie Speed’s album cover even if I wasn’t up to speed on who did it until recently. It turns out that Speed is a friend of Colvin’s; the latter saw the painting and it inspired her to write Sunny Came Home.
The album is only available in the YouTube playlist format so I decided to post just the videos for Sunny Came Home, Get Out Of This House, and You and the Mona Lisa:
Remember when weekends used to be relatively quiet and people could focus on sports and other leisure activities, not national politics? It wasn’t that long ago. Although in my case the change might be a good thing: my San Francisco Giants are having their worst season since the 1980’s, LSU was blown out in Starksville, Ms of all places, and Saints fans are ready to wear bags after yesterday’s thumping at the hands of the Patriots. Perhaps I should skip the sporting lamentations and get down to it
Rocket Man? One of the reasons I nicknamed Donald Trump the Insult Comedian is his propensity to nickname his enemies. He’s not that good at it: Low Energy Jeb, Lyin’ Ted, and Crooked Hillary are uninspired but serviceable. He’s no threat to me or Charlie Pierce or my friend Dakinikat at Sky Dancing who calls Trump, Kremlin Caligula. Of course, John Hurt as Caligula was much better looking and I shudder to think of Donald dancing in drag:
The Insult Comedian decided to take his empire of shtick abroad by nicknaming his fellow lunatic leader, Kim Jong Un:
I spoke with President Moon of South Korea last night. Asked him how Rocket Man is doing. Long gas lines forming in North Korea. Too bad!
I bet the South Korean President is over the moon after that call and subsequent tweet. I wonder if they discussed the local milk people as well or whether that topic is reserved for Aussie PM Malcolm Turnbull? I’m sure Malcolm would be willing to share: he’s used to being in the middle…
Trump clearly think he’s being clever, but nicknaming a crazy man with nukes is unwise. Like the Kaiser of Chaos himself, Kim Jong Un is not known for his ability to take a joke. Remember the shitstorm over the James Franco-Seth Rogen movie The Interview? Like Trump or any other bully, Rocket Man can dish it out but not take it. I’m concerned that Trump will follow-up the Kim Jong Un dubbing by posting this infamous version of the John-Maupin hit:
I suppose we should be grateful that Trump didn’t nickname Kim Jong Un after another Elton John song even if that would have been wittier:
Ty Cobb Slides Into Trouble: The MSM keeps telling us that Trump mouthpiece Ty Cobb is somehow related to the baseball hall of famer of that name. They never bother to explain the consanguinity. It’s starting to feel like my father’s tales of being related to scads of prominent Greek-Americans but I digress.
The friction escalated in recent days after Mr. Cobb was overheard by a reporter for The New York Times discussing the dispute during a lunchtime conversation at a popular Washington steakhouse. Mr. Cobb was heard talking about a White House lawyer he deemed “a McGahn spy” and saying Mr. McGahn had “a couple documents locked in a safe” that he seemed to suggest he wanted access to. He also mentioned a colleague whom he blamed for “some of these earlier leaks,” and who he said “tried to push Jared out,” meaning Jared Kushner, the president’s son-in-law and senior adviser, who has been a previous source of dispute for the legal team.
After The Times contacted the White House about the situation, Mr. McGahn privately erupted at Mr. Cobb, according to people informed about the confrontation who asked not to be named describing internal matters. John F. Kelly, the White House chief of staff, sharply reprimanded Mr. Cobb for his indiscretion, the people said.
Mr. Cobb sought to defuse the conflict in an interview over the weekend, praising Mr. McGahn as a superb lawyer. “He has been very helpful to me, and whenever we have differences of opinion, we have been able to work them out professionally and reach consensus,” Mr. Cobb said. “We have different roles. He has a much fuller plate. But we’re both devoted to this White House and getting as much done on behalf of the presidency as possible.”
Ty Cobb, Esquire is better known for his exuberant mustache than sharpening his spikes, but he clearly has a sharp tongue. And like the ballplayer, he feuds with his “teammates.” I love stories of disarray at the Trump White House, especially when they make it apparent that the “Kelly discipline effect” is having limited impact. Keep up the good work, y’all.
Here’s the Original Ty Cobb “sliding” into home plate. Looks more like a kick to me. Dan McGhan better watch out.
The Trump-Russia scandal seems to be heating up again. It’s time for another dose of dossier dish.
The Not-So Dodgy Dossier: The original dodgy dossier was assembled by British intelligence to help Tony Blair sell the Iraq War to a wary Labour Party and a skeptical public. Many people thought that the dossier former British spook Christopher Steele assembled about the Trump-Russia mishigas was equally dodgy. One reason for that was the incessant, infantile focus on the so-called pee tape by the twits of twitter.
Given his name, I was relieved that the Sipher piece wasn’t written in cipher. I hope Sipher’s meticulous analysis will help dampen down the golden showers chatter amongst the resistance. Toilet humor is for lame bro comedies and elementary school kids. It should be flushed by adults.
This 2004 film was made by Squeeze super fan Amy Pritkin. It documents Glenn’s first solo US tour when he hit the road in an RV to play a series of solo acoustic gigs. It’s good stuff.
U2 came to town this week but I was involved in another spectacle: babysitting the legendary Child Army so that their parents Cait and Dave could see the Bono bunch. I like early U2 and even the Mick and Keith dynamic between Bono and the Edge but I’m not a fan. Why? I detest the preternaturally pompous Paul Hewson.
Additionally, U2 played the Superdome and I hate, hate, hate stadium concerts. I saw the Stones at the Dome and the sound was atrocious. Dealing with the Benevolent Dictator, Gladowling, and Lagniappe (their social media names) was just as raucous and none of them is a pompous prat like Bono.
Here’s a photo taken by Dr. A that could be entitled Child Army Surrealism. Note the smiling malice of the girl child Lagniappe who is a cross between a cat and Harpo Marx; only she hands you objects instead of her leg.
Lagniappe and the Gladowling.
Eat your heart (hat?) out, Rene Magritte.
Oscar Update: He continues marking but otherwise is feeling fine. We’ve tried everything suggested by the vet and various kitty savants, but are starting to feel like people on My Cat From Hell. At least we understand that it’s not about us but Oscar’s own furry demons. It doesn’t make it easier to deal with. The good news is that our vet has a new plan: to up Oscar’s meds and change his diet. Hopefully, that will help; otherwise we may need Jackson Galaxy.
You may have noticed that I love George and Ira Gershwin’s music. This isn’t the first Gershwin tune to be the Saturday Odds & Sods theme song and it won’t be the last. Nice Work If You Can Get It was written for the 1937 Astaire-Rogers movie A Damsel In Distress. It’s lesser Astaire BUT a major Gershwin tune. I’ll shut up and let Tony Bennett and Billie Holiday carry on.
My friend Kevin at the Gambit Tabloid and I use different words to describe what’s about to happen. He calls it a jump, I call it a break. This insignificant dispute leads to the inevitable Gershwin joke: you say jump, I say break. Let’s call the whole thing off.
You’ve already met Milo the Old Metry troublemaker. Introducing Whiskers his partner in feline crime. Whiskers is clearly unimpressed by his newfound fame:
On Wednesday, ABC News added fuel to that fire reporting that the Treasury Secretary requested the use of an Air Force jet on the couple’s European honeymoon this summer.
Mnuchin, 54, married the 36-year-old Linton in June and the pair later honeymooned in Scotland, France, and Italy. “Officials familiar with the matter say the highly unusual ask for a U.S. Air Force jet, which according to an Air Force spokesman could cost roughly $25,000 per hour to operate, was put in writing by the secretary’s office but eventually deemed unnecessary after further consideration of by Treasury Department officials,” according to ABC News. While the pricey lift to Europe didn’t end up happening, the request itself was unusual enough to trigger the Treasury Department’s Office of Inspector General to launch an inquiry into the circumstances under which Mnuchin might need a Top Gun-style honeymoon.
A Treasury spokesman explained to ABC News that the reasoning behind the request was that Mnuchin, as a member of the National Security Council, needed to maintain secure line of communication with the White House while sipping aperitivos in Italy. “The Secretary is a member of the National Security Council and has responsibility for the Office of Terrorism and Financial Intelligence,” the spokesman said in a statement. “It is imperative that he have access to secure communications, and it is our practice to consider a wide range of options to ensure he has these capabilities during his travel, including the possible use of military aircraft.”
Holy lame excuse, Batman. Did the dog eat his briefing papers too?
I stayed out of the whole Louise Linton-Instagram fracas back in August. It was funnier than hell but it was merely a tempest in a designer teapot. Besides it was unimportant: she’s not part of Trump’s criminal enterprise masquerading as an administration. But her husband is. He also “kicked past the coverage” as my friend Cait is wont to say. In short, he’s a frog and Linton is a snooty princess much like Donald and his future ex-wife,
I’ve known some extremely wealthy individuals (used in the same way cops use the word as a synonym for skel) in my lifetime. They tend to be some of the cheapest people on the planet unless, that is, they want something from you. They rarely pay for anything: you think they got rich by throwing their dosh about? I’m sure Mnuchin doesn’t carry cash or a wallet: he’s clearly above such things since he’s a very important, very pompous man.
The mere fact that Mnuchin spent some time as a movie producer is proof positive that he’s a cheapskate and grifter. Remember the Sopranos episode where Christopher went to Hollywood to pitch Cleaver? He saw the rich getting richer with their swag bags. He wound up mugging Betty Bacall.
As a classic film fan, Tony would not have approved. Perhaps he learned about it and that was one of the reasons Tony wacked Christopher. Nah. The mouthy recovering addict thing was enough. That concludes this edition of How Life Imitates The Sopranos.
I’m sure this won’t be the last time Mnuchin pulls a stunt like this. It just goes to show that Anthony Scaramucci wasn’t the only Mooch in the Trump regime. Hence the Two Mooches meme at the top of the post. I guess Minnie couldn’t make it that day.
Instead of Cab Calloway, the last word goes to Richard Thompson with a song about greed:
I went a googling and came up with this 1949 book by Mignon Eberhardt. I like that she had a French first name and a German surname. It makes her sound surprisingly fancy for a writer from Nebraska.
I don’t think many of our readers are old enough to have had the Ron Ziegler experience. Ziegler was, of course, Tricky Dick’s press secretary. He combined ignorance and arrogance in his dealings with the White House press corps. He was never (at the risk of sounding like Poppy Bush) in the loop and said many loopy things: my personal favorite was when he declared his previous comments about the Watergate burglary “inoperative.”
Sarah Huckabee Sanders (hereinafter Huck’s Horrible Spawn) is well on her way to becoming the most hated White House press secretary since Ziegler; even the dread Ari Fleischer had his supporters. Huck’s Horrible Spawn clearly knows nothing about what’s going on in the White House she pretends to speak for. Today she urged ESPN to fire Jemele Hill for criticizing her boss on the sacred tweeter tube. Apparently, Trump is the only one who can fire off insulting tweets. So much for free speech.
Huck’s Horrible Spawn also dusted off her non-existent law degree and proclaimed James Comey a criminal. This is simultaneously ludicrous and menacing. The White House is threatening its opponents with jail or, in the case, of Ms. Hill, loss of her livelihood. This is a classic authoritarian move, which is why I originally called this post Creeping Authoritarianism. The image of Ron Ziegler in a frock is much funnier. And we need all the comic relief we can get in the Trump era.
There’s one good thing in Huck’s Horrible Spawn being Ron Ziegler in a Frock. Like the Z-Man she knows nothing, bupkis, zilch about the scandals that are hanging over the White House. She may not even need to lawyer up or testify before Congress about her non-existent knowledge. It’s good to be out of the loop and in over your head.
I don’t have a picture of Ron Ziegler in a frock but I found a picture of him with Elvis Presley. That will have to do.
I usually check Snopes.com when something on the interwebs sounds either too good to be true or bogus. It’s usually the latter. I try not to go down the Snopes rabbit hole too often because one could spend days there. It’s better when one of my friends does it for me. My old pal, fellow OG NOLA blogger, and Spank krewemate, Lisa Palumbo linked to this intriguing and surprisingly true Snopes item about a fifties teevee con man:
The television series Trackdown really did produce an episode featuring a “Trump” character who came to town claiming that only he could prevent the end of the world by building a wall (and also sold special force propelling umbrellas to deflect meteorites). The episode (S1, E30) aired on CBS in 1958 and was titled “The End of the World,” featuring actor Lawrence Dobkin playing the role of “Walter Trump.”
We even have a snippet of dialogue from the episode in question:
Narrator: The people were ready to believe. Like sheep they ran to the slaughterhouse. And waiting for them was the high priest of fraud.
Trump: I am the only one. Trust me. I can build a wall around your homes that nothing will penetrate.
Townperson: What do we do? How can we save ourselves?
Trump: You ask how do you build that wall. You ask, and I’m here to tell you.
While it’s highly unlikely that Trump was inspired by an episode of a long-forgotten teevee oater, it’s a startling coincidence. Like Donald, Walter Trump is a flim flam man selling a cure to a non-existent problem. He also claimed to be the “only one” as did the president* in his apocalyptic acceptance speech at the 2016 Republican Convention. Holy Messianic Complex, Batman.
The guy who wrote the teleplay, John Robinson, died in 1999 without revealing any Nostradamus-like qualities. He’s best-known for producing the Steve McQueen western Wanted: Dead or Alive and for writing for Dragnet. That means that, like Joe Friday, he presumably stuck to “the facts, m’am, just the facts.” Nobody would have predicted the rise of the Insult Comedian in 1958 back when candidates were usually qualified to be president. Imagine that.
There’s another difference between Real Trump and the character actor who played Reel Trump, Lawrence Dobkin. The latter was an honest bald man as you can see in the featured image above whereas Donald wears a dead nutria atop his head.
It’s gobsmacking that there was a flim flamming, wall building fictional character named Trump in 1958. It’s equally gobsmacking that I hadn’t heard about it until this morning. I only know because of my pal Lisa Pal. I’ll be a pal and post the whole damn episode of Trackdown:
I *have* written about life imitating The Sopranos but I never expected to write about life imitating Trackdown. Hell, I’d never heard of Trackdown until today. It’s a funny old world.
Atomic Rooster was a British prog-rock band best known to me for their swell name and the fact that Carl Palmer was their first drummer. Atomic Rooster also had some terrific roostery album covers beginning with their debut album. Here’s a sampler beginning with their 1970 eponymous LP featuring a mutant rooster:
Not all their album covers featured roosters but those are the ones I like the best. Next up are covers from two compilations, which are cockier than hell, which rhymes with cockrell:
Ready for some mutant rooster music? Here’s Atomic Rooster’s debut album in its entirety:
Hurricane Irma is still chugging along but the threat from its powerful winds has diminished. There’s always malakatude associated with hurricanes including the reporters who insist on standing outdoors and getting blown about. Apparently, they want to be the next Dan Rather but there’s more to Dan than hurricane tomfoolery. At a lower level, there are people like Florida Man Ryon Edwards who did the most Florida Man thing ever and created a Facebook event to greet the storm: Shoot At Hurricane Irma. And that is why Florida Man Ryon Edwards is malaka of the week.
Malaka Florida Man claims that the Facebook page is cracker humor aimed at outraging city slickers. (My words, not his. I’m funnier.) The story, however, has changed several times. In its first phase it was a “shoot the hurricane because you’ll be bored” event. It *is* true that riding out a storm is alternately tedious and terrifying but I don’t get the entertainment value of shooting in the air, especially since the bullet could be blown back in one’s damn fool face.
Hurricane shooting is a bastard first cousin of shooting guns to celebrate New Year’s. That’s a problem in many parts of the country even in my ostensibly sophisticated home state of California. There was also the time that a guy was killed in New Orleans on New Year’s by a “celebratory” gunshot. So much for harmlessly firing into the air for fun.
The other problem with Malaka Florida Man’s feeble firearms folly is that there are stupid and humorless people who took it literally. That led to some wasted time at the Pasco County Sheriff’s Office north of Tampa:
To clarify, DO NOT shoot weapons @ #Irma. You won't make it turn around & it will have very dangerous side effectshttps://t.co/CV4Y9OJknv
The bros behind the Shoot at Hurricane Irma page are enjoying their fifteen minutes of fame right now. They had a good laugh over something that isn’t funny. I haven’t laughed at shotgun humor since the days of Elmer Fudd being outwitted by Bugs and Daffy. Gunshots aren’t funny, these Florida Men look as idiotic as Edward G. Robinson as Johnny Rocco in John Huston’s Key Largo:
Our thoughts are with all in Irma's path, especially our friends in Key Largo. Like Johnny Rocco, we'd love to just shoot the hurricane. pic.twitter.com/MChVPGHruI
We’re in the throes of our annual autumnal tease in New Orleans. Summer isn’t over yet but the lower humidity is a sign that the end is nigh. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to enjoy it since I’ve had a bug that left me woozy and congested all week. So it goes.
I’ve got nothing to complain about since Hurricane Irma is going to Florida. I always feel faintly ghoulish at this time of year. It’s not that I *want* a storm to hit Florida or Texas, I just don’t want one to visit Southeast Louisiana. I have friends in South Florida and my thoughts are with them whether they’re evacuating or hunkering. Be careful out there, y’all.
A quick note about the featured image. It comes from a 1973 coffee table book with art by Guy Peellaert and text by Nik Cohn. I chose it because it’s Hopperish: Edward, not Dennis. Rock Dreams was quite the rage when I was a young rock fan; so much so that somebody stole the book from me not long after I moved out of my parents house. Another Rock Dreams image will turn up later but not the one with the Rolling Stones as SS officers. Oy just oy.
We’re back in almost identical title/different song territory this week. Ray Davies and the Kinks and Paul Rodgers and Bad Company offer their own takes as to what a rock ‘n’ roll fantasy is. I love both songs but if I have to choose, my money is on Ray. Sorry, Paul.
The Kinks got there first so we begin with A Rock ‘n’ Roll Fantasy from 1977’s Misfits album:
Bad Company’s less morose Rock ‘n’ Roll Fantasy comes from 1979’s Desolation Angels.
If you’re thinking that this week’s focus is music, you get a cookie. I’m not sure what kind but probably one with lots of nuts because Odds & Sods is a nutty feature. We’ll go from nuts to soup after the break.
Remember Donald Trump campaigning as the greatest deal maker in human history? Gullible GOPers and Feral Trumpers alike thought that he’d drive a hard bargain. Once again, they were wrong. The Insult Comedian took the first deal offered to him by Chuck Schumer and Nancy Pelosi. There was no back-and-forth, no negotiations whatsoever. He didn’t even haggle or allow his Congressional “allies” to have any input. There’s no doubt that the inexperienced Trump was played by the wily Pelosi and the underestimated Schumer. The question is why and as always in Washington there are competing stories.
The Trump administration put its mendacious spin machine into high gear after the meeting. They told Timespeeps Haberman and Thrush that it was a pre-planned stratagem. To say that I’m skeptical is an understatement. Trump’s entire life has been a series of improvisations. One would think that a reporter with a birdie name name would understand that Trump was winging it. In addition to his giant ego, Trump is all id. In fact, he puts the id in idiot.
But the political or ideological manifestations are secondary to the personal one. Trump needs to dominate people. Clearly Trump felt that McConnell and Ryan are not serving him well enough or loyally enough or both. So he lashed out or tried to damage them.
<SNIP>
It’s not clear to me whether Trump doesn’t realize that he hurt himself as much as he did Ryan and McConnell or whether he does realize it and simply doesn’t care. The core take remains the same. Trump’s core personal drive is the need to dominate. It’s been clear for weeks that he feels routinely betrayed by these two men. They don’t produce for him. They embarrass. They fail to defend him. The need to dominate runs deeper than any policy agenda or ideological ambition. People who are driven by the need to dominate are also often self-destructive. None of this is surprising.
I think Josh is on to something but there’s a simpler explanation for Trump’s bridge burning with Republicans and movement conservative types. Underneath the bluster, he knows he’s in over his head and going down because of Russia scandal. He’s grasping at any short-term advantage he can think of. Tormenting McConnell and Ryan is merely a bully bonus. If he’s going to be a loser, he wants to take the rest of them down with him. Just call him the Arsonist In Chief.
Another possible explanation is even simpler. That he *is* a schlemiel: a stupid, awkward, or unlucky person. He’s a bungler who thinks he’s a master of the universe. The only thing Trump has mastered in his time as president* is the art of the schlemiel.
