It’s been a tough week that got off to a bad start with the Notre-Dame fire. Instead of uniting people in solidarity, it led to petty bickering on social media as to which was worse, that fire or the church fires perpetrated by a racist in St. Landry Parish, Louisiana. They’re equally terrible in their own way: there’s no need to weigh them on a scale of horror. Notre-Dame will be rebuilt and there’s an online fundraising effort afoot for the churches in Louisiana. Click here it you’d like to donate.
I nearly wrote a post about all the crazy hot takes on the tweeter tube until I realized that the last thing the world needed was my hot take on hot takes. Instead, here’s a funny story about flies. We’ve had some aggressive flies in the house this year: Paul Drake likes to chase them but rarely, if ever, catches them. His frantic efforts remind me of my father’s reaction to flies. Lou was obsessed with swatting and killing them. He was relentless. After years of observing him in action, I finally asked him why. It had to do with his service in the Pacific theatre in World War II. There were so many damn flies there that he hoped never to see them again once he was home. It made perfect sense so I stopped teasing him about his fly swatting exploits. It’s a good thing that he never lived in the Gret Stet of Louisiana.
Sorrowful times call for sad tunes. Pete Ham and Tom Evans wrote Without You for Badfinger’s 1970 No Dice album. The ultimate version of this song was recorded the next year by Harry Nillson who wrung every ounce of emotion out of the lyrics and melody. It was a monster hit: sitting atop of the US charts for 4 weeks.
It’s disambiguation time. This Without You was written by John Wetton and Steve Howe for Asia’s eponymous 1982 debut album. Holy power ballad, Batman.
Now that we’ve established our self-sufficiency, let’s jump to the break; either alone or together alone.
The Advocate has won its first Pulitzer Prize. It’s not the first time a New Orleans newspaper has won a Pulitzer: the Times-Picayune won for its Hurricane Katrina/Federal Flood coverage. That was, of course, before that paper was hollowed out by its masters and transformed into the Zombie-Picayune.
Many former Picayune people are now with the Advocate. One of whom is my friend Gordon Russell who is the managing editor for investigations, and one of the winners of the Pulitzer Prize for local reporting. They won for a series about Louisiana’s non-unanimous jury system. It was reporting that made a difference as the voters abolished that Jim Crow relic last fall.
The tweet in question shows the paper’s New Orleans newsroom exploding with joy upon learning the news:
The moment The Advocate's New Orleans newsroom found out they were Pulitzer Prize winners. Incredible moment. pic.twitter.com/fY9IVb92Yj
I can’t wait for the second episode. I was worried that Della Street and Paul Drake might be jealous until I saw the kitty in the car in the car wash. Yikes.
Donald Trump is a horrible person with whom it’s hard to empathize. Those without empathy receive little in return. I’m not a doctor, but yesterday he showed clear signs of age-related mental decline. He clearly intended to denounce the “origins” of the Mueller but instead said “oranges.” On one level it was funny given that his own skin color resembles Kraft singles after spending time on the White House tanning bed. However, when one remembers that there’s a family history of dementia, it’s not as amusing.
Then there’s the matter of his latest mantra: “I’m very normal.” Like such past hits as “I have a very good brain” this is not something that one says if one is really normal. The First Creep is getting creepier by the moment.
That brings me to the tweet of the day. It comes from Media Matters editor at large Parker Molloy. Embedded therein is a series of clips showing how Trump’s speech patterns and cognitive functions have declined since 1988:
Here. I made a quick video of him speaking over the years. There’s a big difference even from 2015 and now. pic.twitter.com/Ma7akgLlB0
Donald Trump has *always* been a horrible person but he used to be a coherent horrible person instead of the rambling wreck he is in 2019. It’s hard not to be even more alarmed that he’s the Current Occupant. The people close to him are even worse than Trump himself: they’re using his power to enrich and empower themselves while ignoring signs of dementia. Come on down, Javanka.
We’ve had other presidents who experienced mental or physical declines in office; most notably Ronald Reagan. BUT we’ve never had such a vicious and vengeful man surrounded by sycophants. No wonder Rod Rosenstein talked about invoking the 25th Amendment. It’s a pity that he had neither the authority nor the will power to follow through on his loose talk. This is one ship that deserves to be sunk by loose lips.
The Trump regime is going to get worse before it goes. Trump’s mental decline makes that inevitable. It looks as if the voters are going to have to remove him at the ballot box. Let’s choose our nominee wisely. There’s a helluva mess to clean up.
I may not be as fanatical a baseball fan as I once was, BUT Opening Day is a big enough deal for me to capitalize it. The tweet comes from historian Michael Beschloss and features the patron saint of the modern Democratic party throwing out the first pitch in 1936:
The Washington Senators beat the Yankees 1-0 on Opening Day, which took place on April 14th. Two of the era’s quirkiest pitchers, Bobo Newson of the Senators and Lefty Gomez of the Yankees, both pitched complete games, which are rarer now than a slow news cycle.
The Senators went on to have had a pretty good season finishing 82-71, good enough for third place in the American League. FDR had an even better year: winning re-election with 60.8% of the popular vote and 523 electoral votes.
People occasionally ask me why I nicknamed Donald Trump the Insult Comedian. In part, it’s his delivery, which is reminiscent of the Borscht Belt comedians who were a staple on teevee when I was a kid. It’s also his demeanor: he’s a man with skin thinner than deli ham who is always eager to take, and give, offense. I coined the nickname not long after the infamous Trump bon mot about John McCain not being a hero because he was shot down. Stay classy, Trumpy.
The main reason I call him the Insult Comedian is his need for conflict, argument, and drama. Not a day goes by when he doesn’t fight a pick with someone over a slight, be it real or imagined.
It’s often difficult to tell which of Trump’s feuds are real. Hence the post title: Kabuki Feuding. My colleague Michael F does a fine job discussing the Insult Comedian’s bizarre and unseemly feud with a dead man. What is this? An episode of Six Feet Under? How dare John McCain not thank Trump for throwing him such a swell funeral? There’s as much wrong with that statement as with the Trump presidency* itself.
Since Michael dealt with that Kabuki Feud, my focus is on Trump’s phony war with George Conway and the latter’s phony war with his cartoon villain wife, Kellyanne. The hostilities have revved up this week, which has led to a debate: is the uncivil war between the Conways real or phony? Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn. It feels like the B-story line in an episode of Bravo’s Real Housewives franchise. They’re arguing in public to entertain themselves and give the Insult Comedian a reason to distract attention from the legal tsunami that threatens his presidency* and financial empire.
Do I think George Conway hates Trump and thinks he’s a lunatic who threatens the continued existence of the “Conservative movement”? Sure, why not. It doesn’t matter: it’s all entertainment for the twitterati and punditocracy who collectively gasped when a smirking Insult Comedian called George, “Mr. Kellyanne Conway.” If that’s Trump’s idea of a sick burn, he needs better joke writers.
Squabbling couples have been a staple of American entertainment forever. From the Bickersons in the funny papers to Lucy and Ricky on teevee to George and Kellyanne on the tweeter tube. It reminds me of a low-budget version of The War of the Roses; only with creepy wingnuts instead of Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner. Now that I think of it, George bears a passing resemblance to the director of that movie: Danny Devito.
It’s just reality teevee. It’s just entertainment. A Potemkin presidency* deserves its own Kabuki theatre of the absurd. And it doesn’t get much more absurd than The War of the Conways.
The last word goes to the brilliant cast of The Band Wagon:
I didn’t think it was possible but Devin Nunes is making a “serious” attempt to out crazy the Insult Comedian. It wasn’t enough for Nunes to sell his soul to Trump, he’s now acting as if he wants to be the GOP’s bull goose loony after the lunatic-in-chief leaves the stage.
I’m referring, of course, to Nunes’ fakakata suit against Twitter, never-Trump Republican consultant Liz Mair, and two Twitter trolls who make fun of poor poor pitiful Devin. They’ve apparently hurt Nunes’ feelings, which is enough to file suit in the parallel universe inhabited by wingnuts.
The lawsuit is partially based on a Republican conspiracy theory that they’re being “shadow-banned” by Twitter. I’m not going to bother trying to explain this crazy theory as it’s inexplicable but Jonathan Chait gives it a go. It’s also not a basis for litigation or anything other than an episode of InfoWars. To paraphrase (butcher, actually) the introduction of the old radio show: Only the Shadow-Banner knows what evil lurks in the heart of the tweeter tube.
It’s amazing what wusses fake tough guys like Trump and Nunes are. If you can’t take a punch, get out of the ring, don’t sue people, corporations, and phantoms who only exist on the tweeter tube. Suing Devin Nunes’ cow is udderly ridiculous. I’ll leave it to that feed to milk the bovine jokes after this musical interlude:
To some extent, this is an attempt by Nunes to make like Peter Thiel and try to sue Twitter into the ground. But why? Trump is not only the Kaiser of Chaos, he’s the King of Twitter. The platform allows him to run wild, lie, and share his paranoid fantasies with the world. Last weekend was particularly fertile as there were 50+ presidential* tweets. Unhinged thy name is Trumpy.
I suspect that Nunes’ real motivation is an unintentionally hilarious attempt to erode the libel laws as they apply to people in the public eye such as, say, wingnut congresscritters and batshit crazy Oval Ones. To the limited extent that he understands it, Trump is a known critic of the Sullivan case and at least one current supreme, Clarence Thomas, thinks it should be limited. I think their influence should be limited instead.
I selected the vintage Shadow Magazine cover because the armed chick vaguely resembles Liz Mair, who also rocks a Louise Brooks-style hairdo, and the Shadow looks a bit like Nunes. Of course, the Shadow was a hero and Nunes is yet another cartoon villain in an era full of them. The good news is that his suit isn’t going anywhere. The bad news is that it hasn’t already been laughed out of court.
The last word goes to Frank and Sammy with Me and my Shadow:
A Jewish woman on a votive candle? Beto as Jesus? I have a confession: I kinda like the Nancy Smash one but the other two are flat-out weird. Unholy Holy Trinity, Batman.
What’s next: an Orthodox icon featuring RBG? Oy, just oy.
Carnival 2019 is as long as Anthony Davis’ arms. Unlike AD it doesn’t want to be traded to the Lakers. I’m not sure what LeBron would make of this on his home court:
I picked the title because it’s catchy not because I confess to all that much. I must confess that it’s a relief not to write about a certain asshole president* who lied his way through the SOTU. I didn’t watch. Dr. A and I were babysitting our de facto nieces and nephew aka the Child Army. There was, however, snark and shade involved:
Read the Child Army a book inspired by @katyreckdahl’s reporting. I said “She’s a friend of mine.” Olivia said: “You have friends?”
That’s why her nickname is the Benevolent Dictator. In the immortal words of Rodney Dangerfield, I don’t get no respect. It’s an open question as to whether I deserve any.
The last word goes to Jay McShann and the Rolling Stones with this confessional classic:
Not the late, great Moe Howard of the Three Stooges, I’m referring to the stuffed shirt on the right in the picture below:
The billionaire bozo’s bad roll-out bumbles on. He feels that a self-made man like him will restore dignity to the White House. Unfortunately, Howard seems to be as ignorant of history as the Current Occupant:
Howard Schultz says Ronald Reagan is the best Republican prez of the past 50 years, in part because “he never took his jacket off in the Oval Office” due to his respect for the office. pic.twitter.com/UFZtqwYfdt
This polar vortex is a mean motherfucker. It has led the Insult Comedian to make a stale joke about global warming and vast swaths of the country to freeze their asses off. It’s been in the forties in New Orleans but I’m not complaining after learning that the bars in Wisconsin are closed because of the weather. Now that’s some serious shit.
The news grinds on as Cheeseheads hunker down and Athenae’s cats get more lap time with their people because of the weather. Holy Aaron Brrr, Batman.
Stone Cold Liar: Roger Stone is the first person I’ve ever seen who seems to enjoy being perp-walked and arraigned. Ratfucker Roger loves him some publicity even when it involves a full-tilt raid by federal law enforcement on all his properties. The feds were afraid that he might destroy evidence pertinent to Kremlingate. For all we know, Stone took some selfies of himself and Assange and/or Guccifer 2.0. Hopefully, there aren’t any sex tapes. #shudder
The tough talking Stone claims that he’ll never roll on his pal Trumpberius. It looks like lobbying for a pardon to me. Roger is a stone cold liar. If he’s facing enough jail time, he’ll sing a different tune:
But the speculation that Stone could turn on his longtime client is supported by several factors. For one, Stone has a complicated relationship with Trump. The two met in 1979 when Stone was living at Roy Cohn’s Manhattan town house while working as a young staffer on Ronald Reagan’s presidential campaign, and it has rankled Trump that Stone is regarded as his political brain (Stone has claimed he created the “build the wall” slogan). “Stone and Trump are like an old married couple,” the Republican close to Trump explained. “Stone knows Donald isn’t loyal. He calls him ‘Mr. Ingratitude.’”
That’s a better nickname than any coined by the Insult Comedian. Stay tuned.
Howard The Starbucks Fuck: It’s been a long time since there was such a rotten campaign launch. Howard Schultz does not seem to have thought his campaign through very well. It’s unclear why he’s running: the last thing the country needs is another inexperienced rich egomaniac in the White House. If Trump doesn’t cure us of the “we need a CEO to run guvmint like a bidness” delusion, nothing will.
Speaking of delusions, Schultz is guilty of a venerable one that’s part of the country’s creation myth. He believes that political parties are the problem. He’s half-right in that instance: the GOP has been going crazy for the last half-century and their lunacy was perfected with the election* of the Current Occupant.
If Schultz were a lifelong conservative Republican who would take votes from Trump, I’d be down with his independent candidacy BUT he’s not, so he should follow that heckler’s advice:
“Don’t help elect Trump, you egotistical, billionaire asshole. Go back to getting ratioed on Twitter. Go back to Davos with the other billionaire élites who think they know how to run the world.”
Word.
The Case of the Sweaty Shyster: The president* may have appointed Matt Whitaker acting AG to throw monkey wrenches at the Mueller probe but it hasn’t gone to plan. Rod Rosenstein has continued to supervise the investigation and the indictments and guilty pleas keep coming. So much for Trump’s attempt to rig the “rigged witch hunt.”
There was a flurry of MSM gullibility when Whitaker claimed that the investigation was nearly over. It was a vague, unsubstantiated claim but the MSM fell for it even though there are obviously more shoes to drop, especially if Stone turns on Mr. Ingratitude. Additionally, congressional Democrats seem to think that a bunch of Trumpers lied under oath, which is what Rog is charged with.
I don’t believe Whitaker, in part, because he sweated at that presser like Bogie in the greenhouse scene in The Big Sleep. A friend of mine captured the moment on twitter:
Donald Trump isn’t used to anyone saying no to him. He doesn’t handle it well. That’s what happened yesterday when he tried to force his way into the House chamber for the SOTU, which should be rechristened SOTC. C is for chaos or clusterfuck.
Nancy Smash has no problem with saying no to a petulant president* even after a day in which the high priests of the cult of savvy decided he might have a plan. As usual, they were wrong: the Insult Comedian folded after the Speaker called his bluff. No surprise. Trump always folds but it usually doesn’t take this long.
“We just found out that she’s cancelled it. I think that’s a great blotch on the incredible country that we all love. It’s a great, great horrible mark. I don’t believe it’s ever happened before and it’s always good to be part of history but this is a very negative part of history.”
Blotch? Really, Donald? Is that the best you can do? I thought you had “all the best words” stored in your “very good brain.”
Trumpberius looked deflated as he made those incoherent comments. Once again, he’s been outmaneuvered by the wily speaker. His fragile ego has a hard time dealing with so much losing, especially at the hands of a skirt. The *real* author of The Art of the Deal nailed it on the tweeter tube:
I have never seen Trump so utterly flummoxed and outgunned as he is by Nancy Pelosi. He seems both awed and cowed by her and it is turning her into a bigger powerhouse than she already was. Fun to watch.
Remember when people on the hard left and squishy right of the Democratic party wanted Nancy Smash to step aside? We’re not hearing much from them right now.
A day after his SOTU cave, the Insult Comedian floated a new slogan:
Without a Wall there cannot be safety and security at the Border or for the U.S.A. BUILD THE WALL AND CRIME WILL FALL!
This is so stupid and simplistic that I’ll let his co-author dispatch him again:
One key to Trump is that he has no core beliefs or deeply held values. His wall was just a way to get elected. He holds on tenaciously to avoid feeling humiliated by Dems & criticized by his base. He is a prisoner to his neediness, with no true north to guide him.
One of the worst things about the current hostage crisis is that stories of human suffering do not move Trump. He long ago wrote off federal employees as Democrats. He cannot even muster a scintilla of fake empathy for the havoc his wall fetish has wrought. Disorder and disruption are his specialities. That’s why I call him the Kaiser of Chaos.
There are finally signs that the Trump shutdown may be winding down. While Trump pretends not to believe the “fake polls,” they’re dire for him. It’s past time for him to fold and declare victory. There is no plan, there is no end game. It’s time for the Insult Comedian to lie his way out of this mess. It’s what he does best.
Finally, I’m fascinated by Trump’s inability to coin a nickname for Speaker Pelosi when there’s an obvious one out there. It’s inspired by the venerable hit musical No No Nanette. He could call her No No Nancy. It’s alliterative as all get-out. Of course, the president* hates being told no, so it’s a non-starter for him but I may add it to my nickname arsenal. It’s not as smashing as Nancy Smash but it fits the times we live in, no?
I’ve saved the best for last: a Krewe du Vieux worthy mini-float that the unknown (to me) artist calls Fat Man and Little Boy after the first two nukes, They’re definitely da bomb.
Statue of Trump dressed as Napoleon riding a nuclear bomb at the New Orleans protest ahead of his speech to the Farm Bureau pic.twitter.com/AMLNtMEESc
Finally, after a shaky start the Saints beat the Eagles 20-14. Next up are the Rams in the NFC Championship Game. We’ll see if Jared Goff handles the crowd noise better than Nick Foles. We witnessed a Foles fail yesterday and it wasn’t even the fall.
I still refuse to say Who Dat but I will say GEAUX SAINTS.
The Insult Comedian is coming to the Gret Stet of Louisiana next week. He’ll be speaking at the Farm Bureau convention at the Morial Convention Center. Since New Orleans is one of the bluest cities in the country, there will be protesters. I may be among them.
That brings me to the tweet of the day. Thanks to my blogger buddy and Spank krewe mate, Noladishu, for sending this my way:
Since President Trump will be in Louisiana Monday, we dug into the archive and found this picture of a 1993 press conference he had with then-Gov. Edwin Edwards. The two had just concluded a meeting about Trump’s attempt to build a casino in the Bayou State. #LaLege#LaGovpic.twitter.com/JpFSoP6DBc
The title is a teaser without the firecat. I’m less interested in the 2020 presidential election than in the return of Speaker Pelosi, the Mueller investigation, and the slow, steady erosion of the Insult Comedian’s popularity and sanity. Change is already in the air.
At this point, 2020 talk is speculative gasbaggery. Until more candidates declare, extensive commentary is the equivalent of the blind leading the blind or is that the bland leading the bland? In either event, strike up the band.
End of epic and overly punny disclaimer. I have some pithy observations to make about 2020 talk before I return to more important subjects like congressional oversight of the Trump regime.
I hate the whole “how dare so and so run” thing that’s commonplace on the dimmer corners of the internet such as the tweeter tube. The more the merrier as far as I’m concerned. If Michael Bloomberg wants to throw away $100 million of his own money, that’s fine with me. He can afford it.
Let nice Uncle Joe and cranky Uncle Bernie run as well. The voters will decide. I prefer not to have a nominee who would the oldest president ever elected but anyone is better than the Current Occupant. I like the idea of a Warren-Booker ticket but wish she were a decade younger. On the subject of Senator Professor Warren: Adrastos to Politico, drop dead.
We’ve all spent a lot time discussing Watergate. The 2020 Democratic field may end up resembling that of the post Watergate election of 1976. The prize was won that time by the ultimate “why not me?” candidate, Jimmy Carter. Be on the lookout for dark horses, it could be their year. Amy Klobuchar is my favorite among the sleepers. Minnesota nice could be the best antidote to Manhattan mean.
Another thing that drives me nuts is the endless re-litigating of the 2016 Democratic primaries on social media. Twitter isn’t the real world but the stakes are too high in 2020 to have to listen to the endless whining about the last presidential election. It may be hypocritical for me to quote a tweet from the sage of East Jesus Tennessee but I’m gonna do it anyway:
It is either far too late, or far too soon to be re-litigating the 2016 election. Support your fav in the 2020 Primary, and then put your butthurt feefees aside, and vote for the final Nomination. SIMPLE.
The man is a Deadhead, so he knows his shit, y’all. I hope that tweet has a ripple effect.
One more thought about 2020 talk. I have a hunch that Trump will not be on the ballot. I’m not sure of the how or when but Democrats need to prepare to run against another Republican be it Pence or their own dark horse. Trump’s refusal to attempt to expand his base in the wake of the GOP’s midterm loss makes him look like a loser. Eventually, the Republicans will get tired of so much losing. Believe me.
No politics from me today. No insights about Christmas Eve either. I like the title since it evokes All About Eve, which was more about Margot Channing now that I think about it. It’s not about the 2012 teevee movie All About Christmas Eve either. That’s a good thing since I just heard of it. I’m not big on Lifetime or Hallmark holiday movies. They’re fruitcake for the eyes.
You’re probably wondering what this post is about. Me too. Oh yeah, I wanted to quote the boss lady telling the Insult Comedian to STFU on the tweeter tube yesterday.
Shut up. Just shut up. Christmas is in 2 days. Shut the hell up about yourself for 2 damn days and let us take a breath. I'm not even asking you to be a PRESIDENT. Just to stop being whatever this is. 2 goddamn days of quiet. Leave us alone. https://t.co/fIba4hhdOI
The great American playwright George S. Kaufman once said, “satire is what closes on Saturday night.” If the Insult Comedian had even a lick of sense, he would have just ignored the It’s A Wonderful Trump SNL cold open instead of extending its life span by doing this:
A REAL scandal is the one sided coverage, hour by hour, of networks like NBC & Democrat spin machines like Saturday Night Live. It is all nothing less than unfair news coverage and Dem commercials. Should be tested in courts, can’t be legal? Only defame & belittle! Collusion?
There’s a picky thing called the First Amendment, Donald. It has always protected political speech even when it was more narrowly construed by the Supremes. It protects your endless lies and mindless tweets as well. As a conservative former co-worker of mine frequently said, “GREAT COUNTRY.” He used the phrase constantly even when it made no sense. Much like Donald’s NO COLLUSION mantra, which he uses on everything the way some people use ketchup. GREAT COUNTRY, NO COLLUSION.
The First Amendment protects both good satire and bad. That’s how I feel about this skit. It feels cliched, underwritten, and, I daresay, low energy. It’s A Wonderful Life has been parodied almost as much as A Christmas Carol and it’s getting long in the tooth.
It’s also time for Alec Baldwin’s Trump impression to be interred in an unmarked grave in Pottersville. It’s all shout and pout. It’s a pale shadow of Dana Carvey’s Poppy Bush or Will Farrell’s Dubya. They kept their material fresh and sharp. Baldwin’s Trump sounds like he spends too much time on Twitter. That may be realistic but it’s not the home of finely honed humor. GREAT COUNTRY, NO COLLUSION.
As you can see, the president* isn’t the only malcontent when it comes to the current state of SNL’s satire. They often come up with decent, albeit obvious, ideas, then execute them poorly. The best part of the sketch was Matt Damon as Justice Bro. As for the rest, ZZZ…
It’s ironic that a man I call the Insult Comedian has no sense of humor whatsoever. He practices the lowest form of “satire” with his incessant kicking down. The SNL sketch wasn’t funny but at least it kicks up at a target who richly deserves it. GREAT COUNTRY, NO COLLUSION.
I look forward to the day when we won’t talk about Trump and satirizing him will indeed “close on Saturday night.”
I swore off doing these posts because the Insult Comedian says and tweets stupid shit pretty much every day. In the wake of his own personal Black Friday, he’s been tweeting up a flop sweat storm. There have been several instant classics, so I decided to bite the bullet much like Neil Young in this song:
We’ll proceed in reverse chronological order. The first panic tweet is a two-parter.
“Democrats can’t find a Smocking Gun tying the Trump campaign to Russia after James Comey’s testimony. No Smocking Gun…No Collusion.” @FoxNews That’s because there was NO COLLUSION. So now the Dems go to a simple private transaction, wrongly call it a campaign contribution,…
….which it was not (but even if it was, it is only a CIVIL CASE, like Obama’s – but it was done correctly by a lawyer and there would not even be a fine. Lawyer’s liability if he made a mistake, not me). Cohen just trying to get his sentence reduced. WITCH HUNT!
A smocking gun? Is that a cross between smoke and smock or mock and smoke? In either case, it’s eminently mockable. Try singing this song as Smocking Gun:
Our second entry is the Insult Comedian’s dickish assault on the Senior Senator from the nutmeg state:
….left and right, he then woke up from his dream screaming that HE LIED. Next time I go to Vietnam I will ask “the Dick” to travel with me!
You’re planning to travel with the Dick? Will you have spotted dick for dessert?
Now that the Trump-Macron bromance is over, the president* has turned on the younger handsomer man:
The Paris Agreement isn’t working out so well for Paris. Protests and riots all over France. People do not want to pay large sums of money, much to third world countries (that are questionably run), in order to maybe protect the environment. Chanting “We Want Trump!” Love France.
The riots aren’t about the Paris climate change agreement. And the rioters are certainly not shouting “we want Trump.” If they were, I’d be more than glad to send him to Paris. It’s time for another marginally relevant musical interlude:
It’s rich for Mister Bone Saw’s best buddy to talk about “questionably run” countries. I bet some of those dictators know how to get away with paying off their side-chicks without getting caught. MBS would just have them killed and dismembered. Perhaps they’d use one of these:
I need the musical interludes to retain what little sanity I still have left. Besides, One Night In Paris is about an American procuring Parisian prostitutes.
Mike Pompeo is doing a great job, I am very proud of him. His predecessor, Rex Tillerson, didn’t have the mental capacity needed. He was dumb as a rock and I couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. He was lazy as hell. Now it is a whole new ballgame, great spirit at State!
This is, of course, classic Trump projection. He’s the one who’s “dumb as a rock” and “lazy as hell.” I guess that makes Mike Pompeo “very legal and very cool.” Sycophants always are. I just realized that made no sense: Trump disease is very very contagious.
Tillerson may not be my cup of tea but he’s an engineer who rose to the top of a massive oil company. He’s an arrogant asshole but not as dumb as a rock. Trump wins that particular trifecta.
I’ve been following the horrific events at the US-Mexico border. After a few weeks of relative quiet on the caravan front, the Insult Comedian has ramped up the war of words in this fake crisis. He added a new weapon to his usual arsenal of hot air and bullshit: tear gas. Trump claimed that it was “very safe tear gas” but there’s no such thing, especially since they tear gassed babies. Exposure to tear gas has detrimental effects on childhood development. It’s some nasty shit. I was exposed to tear gas in the Paris Metro many years ago. I don’t recall what the protest was about, but I recall feeling woozy, raspy, and weepy for hours after being tear gassed. I guess it wasn’t the “very safe” kind that Trump is so proud of. #sarcasm
Trump’s ridiculous claim that tear gas is “very safe” reminds me of an encounter with one of my Greek Greek relatives. I called him Theo (Uncle) Panos but he was married to my father’s cousin. He was a proud and boisterous man who had a small business making and selling taverna-type chairs in the Monastiriki district in old Athens. He believed that everything Greek was the best. It was one reason he and Lou got on so well. I’ll never forget dining al fresco one evening with Panos and his family. There were flies swarming and I kept shooing them away. Panos laughed and said, “Don’t worry. In Greece, the flies are clean and very safe.”
This week’s theme song was written in 1948 by Woody Guthrie and Martin Hoffman in protest of the racist treatment of Mexican nationals who perished in a plane crash in Los Gatos, California. 32 people died: 4 Americans and 28 Mexican migrant workers who were being deported to Mexico. The media of the day listed the names of the dead Yanquis but referred to the Mexicans solely as deportees.
Sometimes the “crash” in the title is replaced with “wreck” but the song remains the same. Deportee (Plane Crash at Los Gatos) is one of the great protest songs and has been recorded many times over the last 70 years.
We have three versions for your listening pleasure: Woody Guthrie, Dave Alvin & Jimmie Gilmore, and Nancy Griffith.
Now that we’ve been deported, it’s time to jump to the break. We’ll try not to crash-land but I make no guarantees. Now where the hell did I put my parachute?
I just saw the Liar-in-Chief on cable teevee. In addition to incorrectly claiming that Michael Cohen had already been sentenced to a long prison term, he used his favorite word:
If I had $100 for every time Trump says very, I'd be richer than him.
Trump’s mangled and gnarly syntax has actually impacted my writing style. When I finish a draft of anything but a shopping list, I scrub out the verys. Occasionally they survive but that’s a very rare occurrence. Oops, I did it again.
