"...Yes, Virginia, It Is Possible For Someone To Continue Driving A Car That's Going Absolutely Nowhere..."

Of all the transgressions to be eventually filed under Trump, there is one to be stamped "above all".

That which is to be so designated due shortly.

First....

The pattern is so clear, recognizable and inevitable that a second grader could predict its repeated occurrence.

A critique or, God forbid, criticism of any thought, word or deed generating from the pathetically sad "on high" that is the earthly existence of Donald Trump results, almost instantaneously, most certainly without fail, in the following comically tragic perversion we'll comically, and tragically, refer to as DonaldDefCon.

• the "critic" is immediately moved to the head of the very long line of those who stubbornly refuse the honor of membership in the O Come Let Us Adore Him Club
• first place in that line entitles the "critic" to be the front and center focus of the man/baby's retribution.
• said retribution, almost exclusively, most certainly without fail, in the form of what the man/baby has trademarked as "modern day Presidential", the Tweet.
• said tweet always, and without fail, in the form of infantile snarks and snides, juvenile low blows that make the schoolyard bully seem like Lincoln at Gettysburg, petty, petulant tantrums of 140 characters or less, acerbic, acidic but ever and always erudite, eloquent and most deserved in the mind of the man/baby while certainly, even screamingly, infantile, and did we mention pathetic?... to anyone blessed with a maturity level exceeding that of a healthy toddler.
• sycophants, loyalists, apologists and/or giddy members of the aforementioned OCLUAHC get all giddy and shit while those blessed with a maturity level exceeding that of a healthy toddler continue quietly making plans to smash the Electoral College into such minute shards that never again, in the course of human events, will a pathetically sad man/baby be allowed to get within a thousand miles of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

The current recipient of a Tweeted Tantrump is Bob Corker, the Republican Senator from Tennessee.

Last week Corker poked the man/baby with a stick by having the audacity to suggest that the only thing that Trump had succeeded at, thus far, in his presidency was putzing up his presidency.

Corker said last week he fears that the nation will be in peril unless Trump makes radical changes at the White House.

“He also recently has not demonstrated that he understands the character of this nation,” Corker told reporters following his luncheon address. “He has not demonstrated that he understands what has made this nation great and what it is today. And he’s got to demonstrate the characteristics of a president who understands that.”

 Well, hell, it's easy to understand why the man/baby would get his Pampers in a twist over that outrageous observation.

"He's got to do better" is how Corker's insubordination of the imperial shakes out.

I mean, the nerve, right?

Corker's comments are, of course, grains of sand on the beach at a time when that aforementioned healthy toddler is aware of the incompetence on display 24/7 in this "modern day presidency".

And the list of Trumpian transgressions reads longer than a kid's Christmas wish list in this era of Kardashian-esque self obsession and absorption.

But there is that one "above all" mentioned earlier.

And that one shakes out like this.

By insisting upon always opting for lowering the river as opposed to raising the bridge, by raising the bar of presidential performance, Trump has put a dent in the prestige, not to mention well being, of America that even a five star rated body shop will be years in pounding out.

He is a petty man. And he has brought his pettiness and petulance and elementary school vocabulary and grammar and manners into a sacred office and splashed them all over the walls of that office, like a crazed kid having a grape juice slinging hissy fit over this or that other kid being"mean to him".

And it makes no difference whether that 'other kid" is an average citizen who doesn't support him, a member of his own party who dares suggest he might be flawed in some way or the leader of another nation, any nation, in the global community of 2017, leaders who have made it clear as Ivanka brand crystal that they have no use, time, patience with or intention of treating this man/baby with anything other than token tolerance until he goes away, this man/baby who sees the entire world as his wall and is ever ready with a Sharpie in each hand to draw and color and smear and mark as he damn well pleases.

Whenever he damn well pleases.

And defacing the den, even fucking up the furniture still isn't the worst of it.

Because Donald Trump won't be able to live up to his first, and primary, promise.

The one on the cap.

He won't be able to make America great again.

Because in order to do that, you've got to be the kind of president he is simply, psychologically, incapable of being.

And, the worst of it?

Above all?

He has made the Presidency of the United States irrelevant.

How long he remains in office is up to the fates and powers that be.

So, to all the members of the OCLUAHC tuning in, let me comfort you.

And clue you.

He may be in office for quite a while to come.

But this presidency....is over.

And that's comically tragic.

Above all.

"...Only Because Send In The Clowns Is So Obvious...And So Overused..."

Today's astute and trenchant political observation comes to us from the eloquent pen brandished by one of America's treasures of musical theater.

Stephen Sondheim.

Not a day goes by.

Or, as Facebook friend and accomplished screenwriter, Lily Mercer, coined it, perhaps less eloquently, but certainly in a manner more easily understood by those who continue to lap up the Kool Aid as if the pitcher was spiked with heroin.....

...every damn day.

The variety of tones offered up by Sondheim and Mercer notwithstanding, the punchline of what has become a horrifically unfunny joke is consistent and inevitable.

With each new day, dawns a new dilemma, disaster and/or disrespect courtesy of the Donald.

Today, there's a tingly little trifecta.

He signed his promised ban on transgenders serving in the military.

Another of his entourage sycophants turned rational human beings eager to get as far away from him as possible opted to get as far away from him as possible.

And, as promised, in his patented, wink, wink, nudge, nudge, know what I mean, know what I mean style at last week's Phoenix meeting of the O Come Let Us Adore Him Club, he pardoned Joe Arpaio.

So, let's total the week's receipts.

Transgenders are no longer allowed, let alone welcomed, to serve, and perhaps, die for their country unless, of course, they are already in service to their country in which case they are more than free to serve, and perhaps, die for their country. The determination as to what to do about those transgenders, the ones already in service, has been left up to the commanding officers of said services.

Donald's sole role, and purpose in the process, was to make good on a promise he made to the O Come Let Us Adore Him Club.

So, he can check that one off his list.

Sebastian Gorka, a Breitbart editor with a pretty nasty, sneezing, wheezing case of Islamaphobia and not just a few traceable ties to neo-Nazis, who had a pretty sweet seat at the KKK Knights of the Oval Office Table, had to turn in his decoder ring and Make America Great Again hood, sorry, cap and slither back to Breitbart where Steve Bannon is patiently waiting to re-assemble the old gang, kind of like a much less adorable, whole lot more bigoted blowhard Ocean's Eleven.

Insider talk has it that John Kelly, the current, one assumes momentary, Chief of Staff at Playhouse 1600 wanted Gorka out and since Kelly is currently, and one assumes momentarily, wearing the name tag bearing the name Lola, one additionally assumes that Gorka's g-bye was Lola getting whatever Lola wants.

One assumes momentarily.

And then there's Joe.

Oh, there's also a killer hurricane bitch slapping the fine folk in coastal Texas around at this writing, but those who keep a firm finger on the pulse of politics in these most interesting of times aren't bashful when they offer that whatever damage Harvey does or doesn't do, in the end, he was one wham bam thank you man distraction for those quirky little end of the week Donald doin's.

Besides, six to five and pick em', Trump will be pardoning Harvey before we get to Hump Day in the coming week anyway.

Anyway, then, there's Joe.

For those who either don't keep up, don't particularly care or who just simply have all they can handle composing and posting their continued pleas for people to stop the madness and let "our new President do the job we elected him to do..", here's a prime time style update for you.

Previously....on The Joe Show.

Joe Arpaio is the former sheriff of Maricopa County, Arizona. He made a celebrity, not to mention career, out of not letting a pesky inconvenience like the U.S. Constitution get in the way of his dealing with Latinos, finally to the point where he was ordered, by a Federal judge to cease and desist (translation for the more erudite Trump fans: cease and desist means knock that shit off). Joe declined to take that Federal judge's suggestions to heart which resulted in his being charged with contempt of (Federal) court, a charge of which he was found guilty.

Donald, meanwhile, also a newly minted member of the "Who Gives A Fuck What The Judiciary Of The United States Of America Has To Say About Anything That I, Or You, If You're One Of My Drooling Adoring Peeps Don't Agree With It" Club just whipped out his favorite compensation for a teensy weensy weenie, the old Executive Action pen, and issued Joe a little Trumpian justice in the form of a Get Out Of Jail Free card.

Cue Sondheim and/or Mercer.

Not a day goes by.

Every damn day.

And, with every damn day that does not go by without dilemma, disaster or disrespect,  that old Germanic magic rears its historically ugly head, as well.

Let the Fuehrer frenzy re-commence.

We've been down this pee stain yellow brick road before when it comes to the knee jerk, seig heil comparisons of Trump's trampling on the hallowed and/or sacred and/or, oh, what the hell, let's just not tip toe here, the legal and moral traditions of America in particular and basic, decent humanity in general and, frankly, it's getting a little wearying having to address the comparison time and time again.

But, taking a page from Donald's playbook of how to get someone classy and sensible to actually stay on his staff for more than one forty hour week, let me take yet another crack at this.

And, in what I think you'll find a delightfully ironic way, actually provide you a little comfort in so far as any fears you might have that Trump in the White House is actually irrefutable proof that we are, in fact, knee deep in the end of days.

Donald Trump is not Adolf Hitler.

In fact, he's not even really all that Hitler-esque.

And these continued, Swastika soaked go-to attempts to find an equivalency between these two pimples on history's ass do a sizable disservice.

To the German half of the monstrously megalomaniac mutated version of Phil and Don.

Or Adolf and Don, as the case may be.

Not, of course, meant to imply even a whiff of respect, endorsement or even tolerance of the horror that was little Alois Schicklgruber from gracious and growing Braunau am Inn in what his present day Austria.

Because Adolf was the very personification of what Donald would later whimsically refer to as a "bad hombre".

Javol, there, Herr Trump. We hear ya, buddy.

No, comparing the Madman of Mar-A-Lago to the Bastard Of Berlin is a most heinous false equivalency if only because Hitler had something that Trump has never had and will never have.

More to the point, Hitler was not something that Donald very much is.

Frankly, with all due respect ("...and Mr. Dennit, I said with all due respect..."), it's a pretty despicable character trait.

Yet, again with what will prove to be irrefutable irony, it will be that very character trait that will eventually bring us all safely, if not just a little worse for the wear, out of the justice be damned jungle that is Donnyworld.

And all of the signs are right there on the old super highway.

For your more enthusiastic psych students, a veritable cornucopia of Freudian answers and hints and clues (oh, my).

But even if you're not particularly into crossing your Sigmund with your Columbo, the pudding is chock a block full of the proof.

Let's have a list. Wanna?

There was to be a wall. There is no wall. There is no money for a wall. Mexico will not pony up for a wall. Congress will not pony up for a wall. Now Trump says if Congress doesn't give up the money for a wall, he will "shut the government down".

He will not shut the government down. And there will be no money for a wall.

There was to be an immediate repeal and replace of Obamacare. There is no repeal. There is no replace. Trump has fumed, spewed, tantrumed and threatened and still there is no repeal and there is no replace.

There will not be an immediate repeal. There will not be an immediate replacement.

He pledged to move the American embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. There was no move. The American embassy remains in Tel Aviv.

He was clear in his intention to withdraw America from the Paris Climate Accord. There has been no withdrawal l from the Paris Climate Accord.

He was adamant that the doors would slam shut on immigration. Period. End of sentence.

No slam, no shut, no end of sentence.

Period.

He promised, pledged, guaranteed ____________________.

No __________________________.

Oh.

He did just pardon Joe Arpaio.

By signing a piece of paper, under cover of Harvey, before scurrying aboard Marine One and whirling off to Camp David.

Safe and secure from both the hurricane...and any firestorm of legal outrage that will be coming his way once Harvey blows himself out. Leaving any fallout, of course, to be dealt with by the gaggle of lawyers that thank their lucky starred seven figure incomes every day for the election of Donald John Trump.

See. Here's the thing about Donald John Trump.

That thing that pretty much insures that, when the days of Trump are finally concluded, we will be pretty banged up but in, give or take a piece, one piece.

He's not going to shut down the government.

He's not going to launch nuclear missiles at North Korea.

He's not going to give white supremacists and neo-Nazis free reign to pillage and plunder.

He's not even going to make Mitch McConnell his bitch. On Obamacare or immigration or anything else.

Because, and let's try to make this the last time we have to deal with this foolish and false equivalency......

...Donald Trump is not Adolf Hitler.

Hitler was evil, ruthless, despotic, probably psychotic and reprehensible beyond measure.

But he wasn't a frightened man/child hiding his fear and insecurity behind a blowhard, bloviating bully presentation.

He didn't bluff. And he didn't bullshit.

He didn't threaten to invade and conquer.

He invaded and conquered.

Hitler was, evil and ruthless a given, the real deal.

Donald Trump is not Hitler.

Donald Trump is a hologram.

Not a day goes by that he doesn't prove it.

Every damn day.

"...He's Really Not A Bigot....It's Actually Much Worse Than That..."

Three things rare in life these days.

Steak that's really cooked the way you ordered it.

Anything resembling quality customer service from Comcast.

Me. Defending Donald Trump.

Cue Donna Summer.

Heaven knows.

That said, it's become clear to me over the past few months and, most especially in the last few weeks, even days, that Trump is being accused of this and that which, to my p.o.v., he is not necessarily guilty.

And I only qualify it by saying "not necessarily" because I don't know the man, don't have access to the man and don't honestly know what he has to say behind closed doors.

The most recent accusation flung at him like feces from a disgruntled primate is that he is a racist.

And while we're at it, let's throw in the scarlet lettering of him as a "Nazi sympathizer."

Both batches of tar and feathers there, of course, resulting from his badly bobbled handling of the bully pulpit in response to the rioting, destruction and death that occurred in Charlottesville.

And he certainly didn't do himself any favors by waiting two days to respond, then giving only lip service to a cliche' soaked schpiel clearly written for him by some one else and, then, to the chagrin of his own people and the weary, same shit, different day expectations of his detractors, holding the "press conference" in which he disavowed the cliche' soaked schpiel and got back to business as usual, awkwardly, and ineptly, attempting to weasel his way around condemning the bigots and fascists that made up the Virginia lynch mob while, if only in his own mind, coming off as "Presidential" to those of us who really can't find much in the way of moisture in a glass of bile that Trump seems to want us to see as, at least, half full.

Now, while we're at it, let's throw in some of the oldie but goodie epithets that have been spit balled at the man since he came down out of Trump Tower two years ago and decided that America needed to be made great again and he, and only he, had the savvy to make it happen.

Misogynist.
Chauvinist.
Sexual predator.
Payment delinquent.
Deal welcher.
Narcissist.
Sociopath.

Okay. Now, here's where the third of those really rare things I mentioned at the outset comes into play. And just so we're clear, I have neither the desire or the intention to put any effort whatsoever into being a part of putting Trump into a better light.

And what I'm about to offer here is really more in the neighborhood of clarification than it is validation.

Cause, frankly, my dear, I'm not pro-Trump on anything. Ever. Least of all, Trump.

But, I think it important and, bear with me, even beneficial for you to know why I think he's being mislabeled when he is labeled as a racist and/or a Nazi sympathizer.

I'll grant you that the symptoms of what he seems to be and what I read him, in actuality, to be are very much the same.

But there's a tell, if you will, in his behavior that sometime ago convinced me that he is neither, necessarily, a racist or a Nazi sympathizer or any one of a dozen other mean spirited, even evil, personality flaws that continue to stink up the atmosphere of this country he professes to want made great again.

And the tell...is this.

Follow through. Or, more to the point, lack of follow through.

He wailed and blustered and verbally vomited his disdain for the Latino "infestation" in this country, bluntly "guaranteed" that there would be a wall and Mexico would pay for it.

One year later. No wall. No pesos yet forthcoming to pay for a wall.

And Donald has nothing to say about the matter, except to mention it in his moments of demagogue delight for the fans that just still cant get enough of the Kool Aid . No follow through.

He wailed and bloviated and flag waved his nubby little fingers to the quick with assurances that he had a "30 day plan to defeat ISIS".

One year later, no plan, no defeat, ISIS still alive in whatever form it currently exists and rearing its vile little existence by periodically jumping behind a wheel and cowardly mowing down crowds in outdoor cafes.

And Donald has nothing to say about the plan or ISIS. No follow through.

He minced nary a syllable, let alone a word when he boldly promised that "all Americans would have heath care, great health care at much reduced prices as soon as he could solemnly swear to faithfully execute both the office and the Affordable Care Act.

One year later. Donald has nothing to say about repealing or replacing. He's even stopped blaming McConnell. Although we all know that's merely a reprieve and not a resolution.

No follow through.

And, at this moment, we have Russia still cooking on the back burner, Bannon shown the door, half a dozen Chiefs of Staff, press secretaries and/or communications directors listed on a metaphorical memorial wall.

And approval ratings that make saying "in the crapper" a disservice to even that which actually ends up in the crapper.

Meanwhile, Tuesday 22nd found him getting his knob polished by the adoring masses in Phoenix at the latest assemblage of the Narcissus Praise And Genuflect Society, better known to you and me and the rest of the sane world as Trump's base.

And a speech, if you want to call sixty minutes of vile, venom, vomit and mental masturbation a speech, that came along just in time to validate to a moral, or more correctly, an immoral certainty my assertion that Donald is getting mislabeled when tagged with the racism, neo-Nazi name tag.

More promises he has very little chance of keeping, more savaging of anyone and anything that contradicts, for a single nano second, anything he says, wants, does or purportedly plans and or promises to say, want or do in the future.

And the gathered faithful lapping it up like a herd of crazed kitties coming across an oasis size bowl of cool cream on the stoop of their undivided house.

Well, of course, they lap it up.

Because it doesn't matter a whip or whit that very little of what Trump is saying to them has any basis in truth, fact, honesty, integrity or even potential.

That's not what they're there to hear.

And that's not what he's there to tell them
.
They're there to hear what they want to hear.

And he's there to tell them what they want to hear.

It's called pandering.

Noun: to gratify or indulge (an immoral or distasteful desire, need, or habit or a person with such a desire, etc.).

Pandering. Telling people what they want to hear. So that the teller can get the listener to believe in, or testify to or buy in, lock, stock and/or barrel, to accept, on faith and faith alone, that whatever the teller promises will come to pass.

Regardless of how impractical, impossible, inane or even insane whatever that promise might be might be.

Pandering.

Telling people what they want to hear.

It's how Donald Trump got elected President.

It's what Donald Trump does to insure that those that worship and adore will continue to worship and adore, no matter what, no matter when, no matter where.

It's why he took two days to say anything at all about the bigots and haters and Nazis in Charlottesville, then gave the brief "speech" condemning them and then, the next day, to the collective chagrins of staff and citizenry, took it all back.

Because he is incapable of functioning as an elected official, a spokesperson, hell, maybe even as a person without being loved, adored, worshiped, admired, revered.

And, in the mindset of that personality, the only way to insure the love, adoration, worship, admiration and or reverence of people is to tell them what they want to hear.

To pander.

So, if only on the basis of a benefit of the doubt humanitarianism, let's cut the man this much slack.

That underneath it all, he's not really a racist.

And he's not really a Nazi sympathizer.

He just has to tell the racists and Nazi sympathizers that he's one of them. While at the same time, letting those who would naturally be appalled that he is one of them know that he's not really one of them.

Old expression for that style of "leadership".

It's known as talking out of both sides of your mouth.

Being all things to all people, as if that were even minutely close to possible in this life.

Racist? I honestly don't think so.

Nazi sympathizer? Again, don't see it being actual.

Misogynist.
Chauvinist.
Sexual predator.
Payment delinquent.
Deal welcher.
Narcissist.
Sociopath.

Oh, sure, no problem pegging him all of those.

Oh. And one more for the list.

Panderer.

In fact, move that to the top of the list.

Again, no defense of Trump on my part intended or desired.

I just felt the need to tell you what I just told you.

Even if it's not what you wanted to hear.


 



 

"...Well, Counting Blessings, "P" Could Have Been "C"....Then Again, It's Early...."

Pussy.

There.

I said it.

And now you're faced with a choice.

I'll inform you as to your options momentarily.

Secretary of Defense James Mattis received media criticism this week after commending Navy sailors in a speech earlier in the month for not being "pussies."

"You will have some of the best days of your life and some of the worst days of your life in the U.S. Navy, you know what I mean?" Mattis told sailors at Naval Base Kitsap, Washington, according to the official transcript. "That means you're living."

"That means you're not some pussy sitting on the sidelines, you know what I mean, kind of sitting there saying, ‘Well, I should have done something with my life,'" he continued.

In response to his speech, NBC News complained that "Defense Secretary Mattis Uses Disparaging Term in Speech to Navy," comparing his remarks to Trump's comments on the infamous Access Hollywood tape about grabbing women "by the pussy."

Newsweek likewise complained that "Defense Secretary Suggests Civilians Are ‘Pussies' for Sitting on the Sidelines."

"Donald Trump's secretary of defense James ‘Mad Dog' Mattis appeared to suggest those who did not serve the country were ‘a bunch of pussies,'" read the lead.

The Washington Post consulted retired Col. Don Christensen, the head of an anti-sexual assault organization who said that Mattis' comments were "troubling."

Christensen noted that the remarks "clearly implied that those who don't serve are less manly than those who do."

"It just sends the wrong message to the 15 percent of the military who are women," he said. "As secretary of defense, he's just got to be more careful about the words he uses, especially around troops who in some cases worship him."



Before we further ponder from the pussy perspective, here's an oft batted about these days word I think needs a little POV polish.

The term "media."

Somewhere along the way, the word "media" has come to connote some evil force in the universe, a malevolently mutated concoction of Darth Vader's Empire, the S.S., the Cabal from the always sparkling yet psychotic world of Raymond Reddington and whatever the hell that Rittenhouse bunch on NBC's "Timeless" turns out to be.

Paraphrasing John Lennon's words from the Beatle tune, "Glass Onion"..."here's another clue for you all / the media is not an empire or a cabal or a bunch".

It is, 99% of the time, nothing more, or less, than the opinion of a person, transmitted via big, fancy high tech equipment, often from an expensive, seemingly authoritative television studio set or from some mysterious, ostensibly dark and powerful online server, a 21st Century Wizard belching fire and smoke and doing it's blustery best to intimidate you into bringing him that damn broom...or believing every word coming from the fiery, smoky lips on his disembodied head is to be taken as gospel.

Pish to the tosh.

Media is, more often than not, just a more expensively accessorized version of you or me or your average Johnny, Jane, two cents sharing commentator, conversationalist, gossip or gasbag who can lay their hands on a social media sight and let their fingers do the flyin' on a keyboard. 

"Media" as an entity, meanwhile, is very much like your average run of the mill, garden variety, bargain store brand bully.

It has only the power that it is given by those who find themselves exposed to it.

And in the current political climate, "media" is the enemy because "media" has, with a few high profile exceptions (translation: Fox News and/or Breitbart), decided to take a pass on exalting, worshiping and/or genuflecting to every uttering of word and whim of the current, and, the greater of the population dares hope, temporary occupant at 1600 Pennsylvania.

It's one of those my kid is well behaved and yours is an ill bred brat kind of things.

Donald, for example, loves media that loves Donald.

All other media is the enemy and the "news" they proffer is "fake news".

Poppy to the cock.

I bring all that up as it applies to the context of the "media criticism" being leveled at Secretary Mattis for his vibrant vaginal vocalization.

"Media" wasn't offended or concerned or troubled.

Colonel Don Christensen was.

And whoever wrote the pieces that appeared, respectively, in The Washington Post and Newsweek and on NBC News.

There was, and is, no deep, dark lurking force striking out from the shadows at a noble public servant who is only doing his best to serve at the pleasure of the President of the United States.

Just a guy, or gal, or some of each over there in a cubicle, as opposed to behind the curtain, offering up their sense that perhaps cheapening , even denigrating, women, if only just a teensy weensy smidge, by equating labias with losers might be beneath the dignity of, well, hell, pretty much everybody, but certainly beneath the dignity of the Secretary Of Defense of the United States Of America.

You know, if only just a teensy weensy smidge.

Here's the thing.

When did the word "pussy" become acceptable language for what was, once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, referred to as "mixed company.?"

Well, first, to answer that question, we have to fess up.

The word "pussy" as a slang term for the vagina, but spoken to imply weakness or vulnerability or lack of muscle, has been accepted, if not acceptable, in conversation, most certainly conversations among members of the military for what I imagine is the recorded history of man kind.

I mean, come on, History Channel dignity and Ken Burns-esque high gloss not withstanding, do you doubt for a single moment that somewhere, at least once, if only just once, George Washington told one of his faithful not to fear, for a second, that victory was at hand because "after all, we all know that Cornwallis is going to surrender....that fat fuck is a pussy."

Suck on that, Red Coat boy. Semper Fi.

Hey, it was freezing cold and they were starving to death and beaten down and battle torn and worn and you just gotta know that sometimes "he is a daunting and formidable foe upon whose vulnerabilities we can capitalize" just didn't quite get it done, you know?

Like when you smash your finger with a hammer.

"Gosh darn, that's kinda painful" ain't gonna flow Mormon-esquely from your lips.

And though the more refined, restrained, even respectful among us have managed to draw the line just shy of popping off with the P word when temptation reared like a vixen vulva ,  that kind of infantile, no neck jock jive has been pert near authorized and/or sanctioned in locker rooms across this great nation since...well, since at least about this time last year.

For confirmation of that validation, shoot off an email to Billy Bush.

And speaking of Bush, there's lies the problem with pussy.

It's a lofty, albeit futile, goal that men simply stop using the word "pussy' to imply weakness, vulnerability and/or lack of muscle because, well, golly gosh gee whiz, boys will be boys, you know?

But maybe, just maybe, its not too much to ask that, at the very least, we, and more essentially and ideally, those in positions of authority and power who have the opportunity to set fine examples, raise, rather than lower bars, up the level of classy rather than dial back down to degrading, that they fall back on another old tried and truism from the unspoken, unpublished Book Of Societal Etiquette.

That little pearl of wisdom dealing with time and a place for everything.

And maybe, just maybe, that we could all take a shot a returning to those thrilling days of yesteryear when a speech by a Secretary of Defense of the United States delivered to a mixed gender audience of valued and appreciated members of the United States Armed Forces, a speech in clear view and hearing of both that attending audience and an international audience, via media reporting, just really isn't the right time or the right place to offer up "pussy" to imply weakness, vulnerability or lack of muscle.

If to use to imply it must, then how about save it for the locker room?

Ah. But now there's the other problem with pussy, you see?

Which brings me back to the choice with which you are now faced.

Pussy.

There.

I said it again.

In public. For all to see. Read. Hear.

And now you have a choice.

You can be offended, concerned and/or troubled.

Or you can elect me President of the United States.











 

"...I Have The Freedom To Fly My Flag And You Have The Freedom To Suck It Up And Get Over It...."

Today's line I didn't write that I wished I had written.

Only in America could we become engaged in a civil war fighting about statues and flags from the last civil war.

At the end of the week, I guest hosted on talk radio. The hot topic du jour was the aforementioned fighting about the effort to have Confederate monuments removed versus having them stay right where they are. Inevitably included, of course, were the snappy accessories that come with every monumental discussion, the flag and/or bumper sticker and/or lapel pins, etc bearing bearing that most ubiquitous of Southern symbolism, the Stars and Bars.

The callers and conversation fell upon predictable lines, lines that, frankly, aren't all that uncommon when it comes to most anything that gets discussed, term used loosely if not sardonically, on talk radio these days.

Passionately in favor, passionately opposed or what's the big deal. And we'll be right back after the break

Toward the end of the discussion, as I prepared to steer the show off in another direction, if only because there's only so much passionately in favor, passionately opposed or what's the big deal that any one topic can stand before the talk show goes from an interesting splashing around the pool of public opinion to the sensation you have when water is dripping on your forehead, I got a call from a gentleman who, if I had asked him, which I didn't, could not have done a better job of putting a powerful and perfect period at the end of the sentence.

"...as a black man", he said, "....I can only tell you that what most white people don't understand is that when I see someone drive past me with a Confederate flag or sticker, or I go past the house where there is a Confederate flag or banner or sticker, I fear that person doesn't see me as a person… They see me as a problem… A problem that needs to be remedied…"

Later in the day, while catching up with blog sites and programs and social media posts, I offered the anecdote of that call and I added "I've never had a call on talk radio more profound than that."

For the next few hours, a number of people emojied their "like" of the sharing. And then...

A colleague from years gone by posted a comment, a friend who I have always considered a reasonable man, loving family man and oft professed Christian, as well as being mostly non-political in his postings in a time when resisting that temptation becomes more difficult with each passing moment.

His comment, frankly, surprised me given my perception of him.

"...Why is it the guy with the flag or banner's fault how the elderly black man perceives how the flag guy feels about him?..."

First, wow.

Second, the word "fault" rang my bell because there wasn't a mention of that word in any of my sharing and his use of it struck me as unnecessarily defensive.

Third, another articulate friend replied almost immediately to his comment.

"Really?" she offered.

I let it go, more accurately, I took a step back and gave it some thought. This morning I posted the following response that his original response.

"....it should be enough that an old man, lucid, articulate and reasonable, who has lived life as a black in this country for what I estimate to be sixty plus years, feels like he is perceived as a "problem that needs to be remedied", but, it's not, is it?

instead, it's more important that the person who is either obtuse or indifferent to the fact that these monuments and flags and bumper stickers conjure up uncertainties and fears that those of us who will never have an inkling of what it has been like to grow up black in this country can disregard those uncertainties and fears because they simply have "the right" to plant or fly or sticker whatever they want whenever they damn well want.

this black man, obviously, has no way of knowing for sure, whether the Stars and Bars connoisseur is a vitriolic white supremacist with a seething desire to see all blacks swinging from the neighborhood oak tree or a kind, caring, loving everyday good guy who simply feels an affectionate pride in his (or her) Southern heritage.

just as none of us, regardless of our color, know, for sure, whether that guy toting the AR15 on his back through the local Wal Mart is a careful and cautious citizen simply exercising his right to openly carry the weapon in public or a psycho about to open fire at any given moment.

it's not about freedom...it's about courtesy...and consideration.

and the thousands of posts/discussion/arguments etc that banter and bicker back and forth about the "real" meaning of the flag or the "facts" about slavery or the "erasure of history", ad nauseum, distract from and disregard a fairly simple and irrefutable reality.

regardless of what the flag and the stickers and, to a lesser extent, the monuments authentically or empirically historically represent, they are, in fact, used and abused,, by extremists and supremacists and vitriolic racists, as symbols of their defiance, their hatred and resentment and as not so veiled threats of their potentially acting upon those feelings of defiance and hatred and resentment.

meanwhile, the knee jerk, go-to rebuttal goes something like this..."well, today, it's the Stars and Bars....and tomorrow, it's gonna be the Alaska state flag, cause that Big Dipper promotes astronomy and all those other Godless sciences....or the Wyoming state flag because people don't want the poor buffaloes mistreated...." (examples all, obviously, exaggerated to underscore the idiocy involved in all of this) One of the more erudite among us actually posted a meme that showed the Iwo Jima monument with some inane caption about "coming next."

all of this nonsense to be filed under the current top of the charts hit "false equivalency" because, first, it's nonsense and second, neither the Alaska flag nor the Wyoming flag or the Iwo Jima monument or even that John 3:16 banner than has become a staple of televised football are used, overtly and bluntly, as symbols of defiance, hatred, resentment and not so veiled threats of the potential acting upon those feelings.

it should be enough that a monument or a flag or a bumper sticker puts fear into a mind or heart or pit of a stomach.

it should be enough that that particular fear is neither imaginary nor "sno-flaky" and is, in fact, reasonable, even understandable, given the what and why and how of where it's coming from.

it should be enough that my neighbor and fellow citizen has experienced terrible things in his life that I will never understand, let alone experience, in my own and a statue, or a flag, or a bumper sticker causes him to feel less a part of our neighborhood than he deserves to feel.

it should be enough that I have the opportunity to put my money where my mouth is when it comes to proselytizing Scriptural values and doing what I can to ease a little suffering, prevent a little pain, take away a little fear....when all I have to do is put my statue on my own mantle, hang my flag in my own rec room and put my sticker on the refrigerator door. and leave them at that.

and it should be enough that an old man , lucid, articulate and reasonable, who has lived life as a black in this country for sixty years feels like he is perceived as a "problem that needs to be remedied"

but it's not enough.

is it?..."



In the course of writing this piece, I, of course, had to re-read that response a time or two.

Here's the thing.

Somehow, I feel like it's not going to be enough.

Is it? 

"...Comes A Time When It's Time To Say You're Out Of Time..."

Time's up.

And I'm not talking to Donald Trump.

More on that shortly.

Chris Cillizza is an online editor and writer for CNN.com. And, right off the bat, on this day after Charlottesville, spare me, if you're feeling inclined or obligated to go there, the knee jerk, go to dismissal of one of "them there libtard snowflake fake news media morons".

Today, I'm neither interested, inclined or obligated to give a shit what you think or what you have to say. And if what I'm saying already has you ready to sputter and spew and distract and defend, do yourself and the sincerely reasonable people left in this country a huge patriotic favor and move along.

Cillizza wrote this piece for online appearance after Trump's statement regarding the Charlottesville lynch mob's exercise of their "right to free speech."

A group of white supremacists, screaming racial, ethnic and misogynistic epithets, rallied in Charlottesville, Virginia on Saturday. One person was killed and 19 others were injured when a car sped into a group of counter-protesters. 

This is what the President of the United States said about it:

"We condemn in the strongest possible terms this egregious display of hatred, bigotry and violence, on many sides. On many sides. It's been going on for a long time in our country. Not Donald Trump, not Barack Obama. This has been going on for a long, long time."

It's hard to imagine a less presidential statement in a time in which the country looks to its elected leader to stand up against intolerance and hatred.

Picking a "worst" from Donald Trump's statement -- delivered from his Bedminster, New Jersey, golf club -- isn't easy. But, the emphasis of "on many sides" -- Trump repeated that phrase twice -- is, I think, the low ebb.

Both sides don't scream racist and anti-Semitic things at people with whom they disagree. They don't base a belief system on the superiority of one race over others. They don't get into fistfights with people who don't see things their way. They don't create chaos and leave a trail of injured behind them.

Arguing that "both sides do it" deeply misunderstands the hate and intolerance at the core of this "Unite the Right" rally. These people are bigots. They are hate-filled. This is not just a protest where things, unfortunately, got violent. Violence sits at the heart of their warped belief system. 

Trying to fit these hate-mongers into the political/ideological spectrum -- which appears to be what Trump is doing -- speaks to his failure to grasp what's at play here. This is not a "conservatives say this, liberals say that" sort of situation. We all should stand against this sort of violent intolerance and work to eradicate it from our society -- whether Democrat, Republican, Independent or not political in the least.

What Trump failed to do is what he has always promised to do: Speak blunt truths. The people gathered in Charlottesville this weekend are white supremacists, driven by hate and intolerance. Period. There is no "other side" doing similar things here. 

"Mr. President - we must call evil by its name," tweeted Sen. Cory Gardner, R-Colorado. "These were white supremacists and this was domestic terrorism.",tweeted Sen. Marco Rubio, another fellow Republican: "Very important for the nation to hear @potus describe events in #Charlottesville for what they are, a terror attack by #whitesupremacists."

What Trump is doing -- wittingly or unwittingly -- is giving cover to the sort of beliefs (and I use that word lightly) on display in Charlottesville. 

Chalking it all up to a violent political rhetoric that occurs on both sides and has been around for a very long time contextualizes and normalizes the behavior of people who should not be normalized. It is not everyday political rhetoric to scream epithets at people who don't look like you or worship like you. Trump's right that this sort of behavior has existed on American society's fringes for a long time -- but what we as a nation, led by our presidents, have always done is call it out for what it is: radical racism that has no place in our world.

So, that's the big one. But there are other things in Trump's statement that are also worth calling out -- most notably "not Donald Trump, not Barack Obama."

What Trump is doing here is pre-emptively absolving himself of blame for creating a political climate in the country in which people like these "Unite the Right" demonstrators feel emboldened enough to rally in public. Not my fault, Trump is saying. There were hate groups and hate speech under Obama too! 

With someone dead and more than two dozen people injured, this is, of course, not the time for assigning blame. Or for making political calculations. This is a time to say: We stand together against what we saw in Charlottesville today. Trump didn't do that. Not even close.

Then, last but not least, is what Trump said a few paragraphs after his "on many sides" comment. 

Here it is:

 

"Our country is doing very well in so many ways. We have record -- just absolute record employment. We have unemployment, the lowest it's been in almost 17 years. We have companies pouring into our country. Foxconn and car companies, and so many others, they're coming back to our country. We're renegotiating trade deals to make them great for our country and great for the American worker. We have so many incredible things happening in our country. So when I watch Charlottesville, to me it's very, very sad."

Really? A pivot to an I-am-not-getting-enough-credit-for-all-the-good-I-am-doing-in-the-country line? With scenes of hatred splashed across TV screens? With someone dead? 

This speech is not the time to tout your accomplishments. I mean "we're renegotiating trade deals to make them great for our country"? Who thought that was a good thing to say in the same speech in which Trump, theoretically, was trying to reassure people that what we all saw in Charlottesville is not, fundamentally, who we are?

That no one -- starting and ending with the President -- raised a red flag about tacking on a laundry list of accomplishments to a speech that should have simply condemned the behavior in Charlottesville and called to our better angels, is staggering, even for this White House.

There are moments where we as a country look to our president to exemplify the best in us. They don't happen every day. Sometimes they don't happen every year. But, when they do happen, we need the person we elected to lead us to, you know, lead us.

Trump did the opposite today.

First...yeah, what he said.

Second, time's up.

And I'm not talking to Donald Trump.

The exhausting, infuriating and, bet your white pride bonfire, baby, inevitable knee jerk, go to defense of Trump and his latest failure to show any ability whatsoever to do the job he was hired to do from numerous victims of Kool Aid poisoning was, and will continue to be, the pivot to "but what about."

But what about when Obama ___________________

But what about when Hillary ___________________

But what about when Bill Clinton _______________

And the libtard, snowflake, Demo"rat", O"bummer" side of the aisle didn't get all of the harpooning.

But what about when Bush ________________

But what about when, well, hell, just fill in the blank because blaming everything and anything for what's wrong at any given moment of the day or night, these days, is what being Trump, or being a Trump supporter, is all about, right?

Here's the thing.

Time's up.

No more blaming Obama or Hillary or Bill or Dubya or Nixon or LBJ or Groucho or Harpo or Chico or Zeppo for ANYTHING having to do with what is happening today, right now, in this nation.

Trump's watch.

Trump's responsibility.

That's the gig.

He wanted it. He got it.

You wanted him. You got him.

And spare us any more "but what about" fill in the blank bullshit.

Trump's entire election campaign, from the moment of its inception, was an overt and unmistakable appeal to the lesser of us, the angrier of us, the less educated of us, the less informed of us, the less tolerant of us, the less intelligent of us, the less compassionate and decent of us.

The least worthy of being among us... of us.

And spare us the sad, sorry and, once and for all, useless attempts to parse words, mince words, play word games and/or head games to either cover his ass or cover your own for your part in putting him in the Oval Office.

Donald Trump knew exactly what he was doing when he appealed to the anger and frustration and venom and vitriol that existed, and exists, inside the soulless, vicious animals that showed up in a pack this weekend in Virginia.

And they hung on every word he was saying during those speeches, every mention of "beating the shit" out of somebody/anybody who gets in the way, every cheap shot, name calling he did, and still does, to those who got in the way, every mocking moment of putting down those who were different, from their color to their sexuality to their inability to hold their arms in front of them without having to let others see that they are bent and defective.

They hung on every single word.

And they heard a promise in those words. A promise that the America where they want to live, an America of heterosexual only, whites only, master race pride was only the push of a ballot box button away.

So, those ballot box buttons got pushed.

And yesterday, they showed up to cash in on that promise they heard him make.

Not the promise Obama made. Or Hillary. Or Bill. Or Bush. Or Nixon.

Trump.

And while we all have to live with the results, and consequences, of what you set in motion when you pushed that ballot box button until he is no longer in a position to do any more damage to this country, your "freedom" to defend, detract, distract, obfuscate, rationalize, justify and/or condone what he is and what he is doing, and has yet to do, has been revoked.

That "right" went up in smoke this weekend. A victim of the fire of hatred that blazed bigly in Charlottesville, Virginia.

No more "but what about" fill in the blank bullshit.

Trump owns this. And all that is yet to come.

And you own Trump.

Still need some time to prove that he really is presidential?

Still need some time to show us we've been wrong all along about this man and you've been right?

Not gonna happen.

Time's up.