...The Bully Pulpit....

Her name is Anaiah.

She is seven years old.

Last week, she very excitedly attended her very first day of school.

The next day, she returned to school.

After returning home from school that day, her mother heard her crying in her room and found a video that Anaiah had recorded on her tablet.

This is that video.



"Why do I have to be bullied?" Anaiah asks.

Seems like a perfectly fair question.

And people reading that question are going to give you a lot of love and support and encouragement, Anaiah.

Good people. Fair people. Kind people. Compassionate people. Decent people.

I have a six year old granddaughter. And five other grandchildren. And I, too, am moved to send you love and support and encouragement.

But, I'm going to do something I suspect a lot of people aren't going to do.

I'm going to answer your question.

Why do I have to be bullied?

Because, Anaiah, you live in a bullying society.

Now, I know, that at the age of seven, that term "bullying society" is probably a little over your head in terms of being able to understand. It's a grown up kind of term.

But I have a feeling that any seven year old young lady who is savvy enough to use today's technology to record her feelings is savvy enough to understand the rest of the answer to your question I'm going to offer.

The dictionary defines the word "society" as a "collection of people living together in a more or less organized community."

I promise I didn't add the words "more or less" there. It honestly says that.

When I use the word society, Anaiah, I'm using it meaning the whole country, all of America, one of the biggest collections in the world of people living together.

You already know what the word "bullying" means.

Here's something I bet you probably didn't know, though.

There have always been bullies.

Really, really, really far back into history. Maybe not all the way back to the Garden Of Eden because, as I'm sure you know, there were only two people there.

Adam and Eve.

Well, three, if you count God, but although God can be a pretty strict father, He would never think to bully someone.

But, sooner or later, Adam and Eve had kids and they had kids and they had kids (that's what the Bible means when it talks about all that "Lamech begat Noah and Noah begat Shem and Ham and Japeth" kind of stuff).

And those kids grew up to be grown ups who had kids who grew up to become grown ups who had kids and so on and so forth for thousands of years and, next thing you know, we had a whole world full of people.

Good people. Fair people. Kind people. Compassionate people. Decent people.

And some not so decent people.

Bullies.

And while it doesn't take away the hurt and anger and confusion that you're feeling because you're being bullied, it might be worth something for you to know that many of us, grown ups, had, or even still have, bullies in our lives.

I had one I remember very vividly when I was just a couple years older than you are now.

And that was a long, long, pretty long time ago.

Before smart phones and Mp3 players and tablets where we could record our feelings.

My bully's name was Jay.

And, just like you, I couldn't understand why I had to be bullied, either.

I wasn't mean to Jay. I didn't treat him badly or steal his lunch money or call him nasty names when I saw him.

I didn't even know him.

It took me a long, long time to finally figure out why he bullied me a long time ago.

Years later, when I had grown up and had kids and grandkids and had finished school and learned a lot of things about people and what they do and why they do what they do.

And there are a lot of pretty complicated things that go on in the human brain. Hundreds, even thousands of things that make us do the things we do.

And there's not just one reason why people bully other people.

But there is one thing that people who bully other people have in common.

They simply don't like themselves very much.

Maybe they think they're ugly. Maybe they think they're not all that smart. Maybe they think that the world is a terrible place. Maybe they just feel lonely and sad and empty all of time and they can't figure out why.

Maybe that feeling or all the other feelings make them feel scared.

That's a very complicated, terrible feeling for someone to have. Even for a grown up.

So, just imagine what it must be like to not like yourself when you're just a kid and haven't yet lived a long time and finished school and learned a lot of things about people and what they do and why they do what they do.

And people who are lonely and sad and empty and scared?

Well, they end up doing something, one way or the other, to deal with that loneliness and sadness and emptiness and being scared.

Scared grown ups drink too much. Or eat too much. Or smoke too much. Or treat other people badly because somewhere deep in their brain, they have the wrong idea that treating other people badly will make them feel more powerful and, that way, they'll feel better about themselves.

Scared kids can't drink or smoke or, if Mom and Dad are paying attention, eat too much.

So some scared kids treat other people badly.

The word for that treating other people badly is "bullying."

And since a long, long, long time ago, there have always been scared people who felt like the only thing that would make them feel better was to treat other people badly.

So, there have always been bullies.

Today, though, there's something different happening.

Something that has turned a society that has some bullies in it....into a bullying society.

Right now, there are some grown ups reading this who are thinking "this little girl is only 7, she doesn't know what you're talking about."

I think you do know, Anaiah.

And I think you'll understand very clearly when I explain that the difference between what used to be and today is that what used to be is that bullies were made to feel like they should be ashamed of the way they acted.

And that being a bully wasn't anything, ever, to be proud of.

And that people who wanted to make positive contribution to their families and their neighborhoods and their whole entire country should not only not be bullies, but they should do everything they can to let bullies know that being a bully wasn't, and isn't, anything, ever, to be proud of.

Couple of other very big differences between what used to be and today, too, Anaiah.

Today, we have what we all know as social media.

Facebook. And Instagram. And Snapchat.

And while those things are cool in so many ways, they also make the problem of bullies even worse because so many of those lonely and sad and empty and scared people who have to treat other people badly to make themselves feel better now have a way to do it without having to do it face to face.

They can just be mean and nasty and vicious and rude and hurtful. And hit the send button.

Hiding in some bedroom or basement, safe from having to be held responsible for what they say to people. Or what they say about people.

And the other big difference between what used to be and today?

Used to be that bullies were never given any reason to feel like they were entitled to behave that way.

Never given what they believe to be a really good excuse to be rude and vicious and hurtful.

Our parents and our teachers and our ministers and our neighbors, well, they all let it be known that bullying was absolutely unacceptable behavior.

Our leaders, too.

Being rude and vicious and hurtful and bullying people was absolutely unacceptable behavior.

Used to be.

Oh. I forgot one other social media.

Twitter.

And, so, now, instead of a society that has bullies in it. America has become a bullying society.

Facebook and Instagram and Twitter.

And leaders who apparently don't think that bullying is absolutely unacceptable behavior.

None of that is your fault, Anaiah.

And none of what I've shared with you is, for now, going to make you hurt any less or stop asking, fairly and rightfully, why you have to be bullied.

What I can offer you is that Jay finally stopped bullying me.

I don't remember why. And I don't know whatever became of him.

But I went on to finish school and begin a career and start a family, made a lot of good friends, have accomplished a lot of things and continue each day to experience and enjoy and appreciate.

And, yes, I still feel scared sometimes.

But I also feel grateful that I'm never so lonely or sad or empty or scared that I feel like the only thing I can do to make myself feel better is to treat others badly, make others feel badly.

By bullying them.

There's not a lot you can do, right now, for a while, yet, Anaiah, to make people stop treating you badly.

If you were my granddaughter, I would tell you to remember how smart and talented and savvy and special you are and to do your best to draw on the courage inside your heart to stand up to the bullies in your life......

....maybe by remembering, every time they tease you or taunt you that they're not some kind of powerful evil over which you have no control.

They're just scared.

Probably of you.

Because you're smart and talented and savvy and special.

Turns out, Anaiah, that growing up is as much about dealing with things that cant be changed as it is changing things.

But change is always possible.

Be one more member of society that isn't a bully.

In that way, you can make a difference and, then, you can possibly help make a change.

As far as the leader thing is concerned?

Changing that is up to your Mom and Dad.

"We Showed You, Didn't We....End of the World? Whatever...We Showed You, Didn't We..?"

Every dog has his day.

And, before your knee jerks, if you're predisposed to knee jerking, no, that is not a subtle or not so subtle reference to Donald's compulsion to criticize women by calling them canines.

At some point, and I'm a firm believer that we are way, way....way past that point, it becomes irrefutable fact (and none of that generic label, two for one everyday low, low price, "alternative fact" bullshit) that the 45th President of the United States is obviously struggling on an almost hourly basis with the misogynistic equivalent of Tourette's.

And the racist equivalent of Tourette's....and the sociopathic equivalent of Tourette's....and the many, varied myriad of equivalents of Tourette's could fill a library that would make the Smithsonian look like a book geek's kiosk at a neighborhood street fair.

So, let's just borrow a phrase I heard uttered once by Michael Jackson's then manager, Frank DiLeo, in response to some questions about Michael's blatantly obviously eccentric behavior.

Chomping down theatrically on his twenty buck cigar, with an aura one part Col Tom Parker, one part Tony Soprano, Di Leo replied...

"....the kid's.......got issues."

Trump's impudent and infantile lashing out at Omarosa was nothing more, or less, than business as usual for the man child who has turned impudent and infantile lashing out into a cheap, slimy, shoddy replacement for what six out of ten people in this country used to recognize, and appreciate, as presidential oratory.

Of course,  only the remaining four out of said ten people see said lashing out as suitable replacement.

Doggone it.

And that brings us back around to every dog having his day.

And a bore-down to the bedrock bottom of a reason why...

• a) this blunt tool of a failed real estate hustler was elected President of the United States in the first place.
• b) why, apparently, four out of ten people supposedly still approve of this blunt tool of a failed real estate hustler's performance as President of the United States..

By the way, in the interest of full disclosure and my sincere intent to extend as much courtesy as my observations will allow, please be advised that if you're one of those four out of that ten people, you're not going to like what I have to share with you very much.

Actually, in the interest of being as honest as humanly possible, I'm aware, going in, that you're not going to like what I have to share with you one damn bit.

I'd try to rationalize or justify at this point, something along the lines of "the four of you seem to worship and admire the idea of somebody tellin' it like it is, so I'm just gonna be tellin' it like it is".

...but, if we step up, deal with one another face to face, and are "God is watching the conversation" honest with each other, we both know that while you say you like somebody tellin it like it is, what you really mean is you like somebody tellin you what you want to hear.

In fairness, too, that should be a "we" not just a "you".

We all want people to tell us what we want to hear.

Fifty pounds overweight and looking like we haven't seen the inside of a gym since elementary school, who amongst us wants to hear "wow, you've really gotten fat, haven't you?" as opposed to "hey, you've put on a few pounds, but, hey, who the hell hasn't, right?"

Even if we know, deep inside, that we've really gotten fat and haven't seen the inside of a gym since elementary school.

It's when the primal need we all share to be positively reinforced wanders over into the area of our politics that things get hinky.

And, worse, makes us all very vulnerable and potentially easy targets for whichever slick, smooth, sweet talker comes struttin' on into town.

Because politics is entirely about telling people what they want to hear.

And the masterful purveyors of the profession are without equal when it comes to doing just that.

Telling people what they want to hear.

The most masterful, of course, managing to tell people what they want to hear while disguising that as "tellin' it like it is."

Whatever his failings, and I'll testify any where you want me, anywhere you want me that those failings are many, Donald Trump is one of the most masterful when it comes to telling people what they want to hear.

And, that right there, without getting too deep into the details of it all, is the larger part of the answer to the first half of my (a, (b, question there a minute or so ago.

This blunt tool of a failed real estate hustler was elected President of the United States because he did a masterful job of telling enough people, in just the right parts of the country to swing the Electoral votes in his direction, exactly what they wanted to hear.

Never mind that he's a con man. And a sociopath. And a chauvinist pig. And a racist, if only by his pandering to white supremacists and extremist hate groups. And a pathological liar. And a narcissist of a caliber that makes historically vain and narcissistic former Presidents like, say, Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon seem, in comparison now, like Ward Cleaver.

And never mind that most, in fact, almost all, of what he promised you he would do will turn out, in the end, to have been nothing more than smoke, hustle, con, deception, shuck and jive.

Lies.

Bullshit.

If you're one of the four out of ten, none of that matters to you, either, does it?

Of course, it doesn't.

Because you didn't really elect him President because you believed all, or a lot, or even very much at all of what he promised and what he had to say.

Did you?

Of course, you didn't.

And for those amongst the six out of ten who cannot, for the life of them, begin to get their heads around the "why" of all this, as in "why, on God's green Earth, would you watch a man present himself in public as a big, bright, blindingly bold example of the very worst character traits that one can witness in another human being , why would you not only elect this flawed and failed excuse of a human being President, but, why would you continue to support and endorse him, as we come close to being two years into seeing his pathetic and sub-human behavior on a daily basis?"

The six out of ten just don't get it, do they, four out of ten?

Of, course, they don't.

But, I do.

I know exactly why.

It was the very first thing I said when this piece began.

Every dog has his day.

Not the subtle or not so subtle reference to Donald's compulsion to criticize women by calling them canines. 

But, rather, the simple, sad, yeah, what the hell, let's just call it what it really is, pathetic truth of it.

The phrase that's been bouncing around since day one of his candidacy is "he tells it like it is."

And, as we've already clarified, what that translates out to is "he tells us what we want to hear."

But there's a deeper, more desperate and despicable meaning underneath that meaning.

"He's one of us. He gets us. He speaks my language."

And don't say I didn't warn you. Here comes the part you're not going to like one damn bit.

He's not really one of you, at all.

But he does speak your language.

And he totally gets you.

He knows that you're uninformed. And that you're uneducated. He knows that you're either too lazy or too ignorant or just too flat out, plain old, garden variety, fuck all stupid to realize that you're being conned and hustled and played like a cheap guitar you found there on the ol' EBay for ten bucks.

Free shipping.

He knows, as all highly successful hustlers know, that all he needs to do is say just enough to convince you that he, and he alone, know how it feels to be uninformed and uneducated and lazy and ignorant and fuck all stupid and to be treated rudely and/or crudely and/or, even worse, totally disregarded by people who are more informed than you are....more educated than you are....more enlightened than you are....  

...smarter than you are.

And it don't matter a hoot in hell that he's a con man. And a sociopath. And a chauvinist pig. And a racist, if only by his pandering to white supremacists and extremist hate groups. And a pathological liar. And a narcissist of historic proportion.

Hell, it don't even matter that you know he's all those things.

You don't care, do you?

Of course, you don't.

Because for too long, you've been treated rudely and crudely and totally disregarded by people who are more informed than you are, more educated than you are, more enlightened than you are......

...smarter than you are.

And you've had enough of that.

Not to mention that now, in the year 2018, you've also got to be talked down to and treated rudely and totally disregarded by brown people and yellow people and black people and people wearing dishrags on their heads and you can't begin to get the bile out of your gut from the eight years you just spent having to live in a country led by the most uppity nigger ever to come across your path and just when you were getting ready to dance on that uppity nigger's grave, along comes this woman, this uppity ball busting bitch who let it slip out, called you that word that all those other uppitys use when they get together behind your back and laugh at your ignorance and illiteracy and racism and misogyny and lack of education and lack of sophistication......you know.....you know that word the bitch let slip....

....you...deplorables.

And along came your savior.

Who totally gets you.

Who speaks your language.

Who tells you what you want to hear.

And you couldn't wait to get your angry asses to the voting booth that November.

Because Hillary may or may not be a bitch.

But payback most assuredly is.

And, so, you showed them, didn't you, four out of ten?

You elected a con man. And a sociopath. And a chauvinist pig. And a racist, if only by his pandering to white supremacists and extremist hate groups. And a pathological liar. And a narcissist of historic proportion.

And you damn well know it.

And you don't care, do you?

Of course, you don't.

And those six out of ten? They just wander and bounce and bobble around all day because they still cannot figure out why.

Why you elected him. And why, to this moment, you support and endorse...and cheer him.

But you know why, don't you?

Damn right you do.

And so do I.

Every dog has his day.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T, Trumping MAGA Since 2018

August 16.

Aretha Franklin died today.

And, both inevitably and deservedly, tribute, in print, broadcast and online is plentiful today. From her musical accomplishments to the historic nature of all her accomplishments in 20th and 21st Century America.

More on that in a moment.

Here's a thing, though.

For those who like their history mixed with a little mystique, even a little mystery, here's one of those fun facts to know and tell.

August 16, 2018.

Aretha Franklin.

August 16, 1977.

Elvis Presley.

The Queen Of Soul. The King Of Rock and Roll.

Gone on the same day of the month.

Who says that fate and/or destiny doesn't have a sense of humor?

And here's one more for your "believe it or not" list.

Robert Johnson, pioneer American blues singer/songwriter whose landmark recordings in the 1930's influenced generations of musicians.

And, experts and academics offer, played a direct part in the eventual arrival of both what came to be known as "soul" music and..."rock and roll".

Robert Johnson.

Born 1911. May 8th.

Died...

1938....wait for it...

August 16th.

While that may produce a oooh or an ahhh here or there in those who love a good coincidence sprinkled in their cultural salad,  the August 16th thing isn't really, when you stop to think about it, all that coincidental or dramatic.

There are, after all, only 365 days in a year.

So the chances of any of us being born, or dying, on the same date are...

1 in 365.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy a good coincidence or poignancy and, especially, irony as much or more than the next guy or gal.

But 1 in 365 doesn't exactly flip my personal oooh or ahhh button.

There is an irony that's clanging and banging somethin' ginormous for me today, though.

Credit for that one, due respect to Mssrs Presley and Johnson, goes exclusively to the divine Miss F.

And here's the marvelous poignancy and poetic perfection of this prodigy's passing.

As this country nudges, or lurches, more accurately, to the mid point of the first term of a sociopathic demagogue who obscenely exploited sexism and racism and denigrated the creative arts to gain the highest office this country has to offer, America, today, is celebrating the life of an iconic artist…

....a woman.

.....a black.

You better think / Donald / bout what yer tryin to do to America

Well played, Aretha.

And...

Well played.

Got nothin' but respect for ya, sistah.

Nothin' but respect.

"Like Flicking A Bic In The Midst Of A Roaring Forest Fire..."

A stunningly profound moment occurred in American history on August 13, 2018.

Hold that thought.

James Clapper is a retired lieutenant general in the United States Air Force. From 1991 to 1995, he served as Director of the U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency. From 2010-2017, he served as Director of National Intelligence.

Clapper was interviewed, on Monday, August 13, by Erin Burnett on her CNN program, "OutFront" and asked for his perspective on the currently sizzle-sational news that former reality show contestant/former White House aide to Donald Trump Omarosa Manigault secretly recorded an apparently sizable number of conversations during her time at 1600 Pennsylvania, including discussions and conversations held in the White House Situation Room.

Clapper responded that bringing a recording device, in this case, a phone, into the Situation Room was "a very serious and egregious security violation" and, he went on to say, "it's sort of an honor system where everybody knows not to do that."

I'll go General Clapper one better.

What he is suggesting is, as I mentioned at the outset, stunningly profound.

And it's not what you are very possibly thinking.

First, while hearing the terms "reality show contestant" and "White House aide to Donald Trump" in the same sentence is certainly silly, surreal, even absurd, it hardly qualifies as profound.

Nah, you gotta go a little deeper than that to reveal the profundity.

There's no reasonable doubt that the act of bringing a concealed recording device into any private meeting in the White House represents, at the very least, a staggering breach of etiquette and professionalism and, at worst, a possible violation of Federal law ( you know, all those catchy phrases that have become part of the standard American vocabulary since the Watergate days....like classified and highly classified and national security, yada, yada).

But there's also no reasonable doubt that this particular administration has not only re-set the bar on standards of professionalism and etiquette, it has practically eliminated the bar in its entirety.

Sir Walter Scott and English composer James Sanderson wrote "Hail To The Chief".

2016 found the red states deciding to give Scott and Sanderson the boot and replacing them with some classic Cole Porter.

Anything Goes.

Which brings us back around to Omarosa.

And her recording of "high level" discussion and conversation.

As opposed to say, these little nuggets of unprecedented "high level" activity:

• Defending white supremacists and neo-Nazis as "very fine people".
• Endorsing, and standing by, an alleged sexual predator in Alabama
• Dismissing even the possibility of Russian interference in the American voting process
• Constant, noxious and obnoxious tweeting displaying infantile behavior
• Attacking and denigrating the FBI, the intelligence community, any agency that disagrees with anything he says or wants done
• Any effort to find common ground or bi-partisan means of accomplishing goals for America
• Horrific abuse and separation of families in the transparently incompetent name of "security"
• Elimination of rules and regs specifically designed to protect the environment
• A tax cut that benefits the rich. Period.
• Withdrawal from global treaties, agreements, accords for no other reason than ego/vanity.
•  Clearly documented and undeniable lying on a daily/hourly/moment by moment basis.

The list, like the beat, could, and will, go on and on and.....

But, bumping Hillary's emails out of the top slot on the charts, kats and kittys.....Omarosa's recordings.

There's no question that those recordings are, at least, inappropriate and, to be sure, in James Clapper's words "a very serious and egregious security violation".

One might even be forgiven for adding to Clapper's description the word "profound".

But that's not the stunningly profound thought to be found here.

That would be his description of the process violated by Omarosa Manigault.

"It's sort of an honor system where everybody knows not to do that."

An honor system.

Where everybody knows not to do that.

Like not recording meetings of "high level" discussions.

An honor system.

Where everybody knows not to do that.

Like, up until January 20, 2017......

...the American Presidency.

How's that for profound?

...Many Are Called....Pew ! Pew! Pew! Are Chosen...

Frontier.

It's an exciting word, isn't it?

Conjuring up visions of exploration and discovery, high mountains and deep seas, endless galaxies and stunning horizons, navigating uncharted, possibly perilous, paths to new worlds of opportunity and hope.

Names that move us, motivate us, inspire us.

Columbus.
Magellan.
Lewis and Clark.
Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins.

Frontier.

At the same time, a word painting a more recognizable, traditional portrait in our minds, of an untamed land, a wild, lawless region where one survives by their wits and their instincts and, even, the skin of their teeth.

Earp.
Holiday.
Clanton.
Hickok.

The dictionary refines the definition.

A line or border separating two countries.

The extreme limit of settled land beyond which lies wilderness.

Yeah...definition refined but not nearly as romantic.

Because, let's fess up to one another, wanna? Exploration is sexy. Risking life and limb to reach for the highest or seek out the deepest is, at the very least, a buzz of immeasurable proportion. And, at its best, it is that quality in human nature that fuels our desire, even need, to go around the next bend, climb up the next mountain, cross the next ocean.

Except we've already pretty much gone around every bend, crossed every ocean, climbed every mountain.

And, one assumes, if only inevitably, forded every stream.

That leaves us only one place to go.

Space....the.....wait for it.

...Final.... Frontier.

And, from the folks who brought you "The Wall!" "The Middle Class Tax Revolution!" and "Healthcare, The Best Healthcare, Really Terrific Healthcare!".......the must see production of the forthcoming election season.....

Space Force.

Did a piece recently in which I mentioned that, at any given time, four out of ten people steadfastly hang in there with their approval of the Trump "presidency".

Here's an American demographic that, bet the bankrupt casino, baby, is 100 % down with thanking God every day for the election of Donald John Trump.

Late night comedy writers.

The folks who create the one liners and six or seven minutes of monologue heard on late night talk shows each late night have had to do, pretty much, one and only one thing each working day since January of 2017.

Show up.

The show is already pretty much written before they clock in.

And, as our beloved Roseanne Roseannadanna used to wisely offer.

"It's always something."

In Trump's case, daily to be sure. Sometimes even hourly.

At this writing, the numero uno topic du jour is Space Force.

Here's a couple of down to Earth thoughts about this Force that Donald wants to be with us.

First, there's a case to be made that, given that it's 2018, resuming our exploration of and/or our defense of space is a perfectly logical, practical, even visionary thing to do.

But Space Force has nothing to with exploration. Fact is space exploration, travel, etc has been in mothballs for awhile and the Republicans show as much sign of re-energizing that transporter beam as Angelina shows of romantically reconciling with Brad.

And of all the things that Donald Trump has been called, fair or not, truthful or not, it's easily provable that no one, that's n o, o n e, no one has ever risked being ridiculed for calling him a visionary.

Those of us, meanwhile, who grew up in the 1950's and 1960's remember the conventional wisdom of those times was that America needed to be first in space if, for no other reason, if we weren't, they would be. They, in that generation's vernacular, of course, referring to the Russians.

Younger folks need to note that this was at a place on the American History Timeline when Russia was considered an adversary and potential enemy and not today's best-est darn buddy a failed real estate hustler turned president of the United States could ever have.

Space Force, in its current incarnation, serves primarily three purposes.

It distracts, or, at least, attempts to distract from whatever revelations and/or accusations and/or criminal charges are coming from the guy Donald likely calls Darth Mueller.

It's retrorocket rhetoric intended to thrill the space cadets who gather together at the "I'm The President and That Makes Me Beloved So Get In Here And Make Me Feel Beloved" worship services and, at least, in theory, put the other nations of the Earth on notice that America is about to kick it up a notch, or a couple hundred nautical miles, when it comes to being Top Dog in the Dark Matter Dept.

Kylo Putin....meet Donald Golfcoursewalker.

Although the chances are more than pretty good that the other nations of the Earth will simply move America up a notch from Worldwide Laughing Stock to Interstellar Laughing Stock.

And, while it's all very galactically glamorous, supernova sexy and technologically titillating, Space Force is, at the end of the solar day, little more than busy work.

Reorganizing the office supplies as evidence of efficiency...spun subatomcially into G.I. Joe becomes Han Solo.

Never mind the obvious question.

If you can't even get 2000 miles of bricks laid along the Mexican border, how ya gonna fill the cosmos with mean and lean laser boys of Company B?

Not to mention getting Venus to pay for it.

If you're surprised, or even a little put off, by the fact that all of this sounds like satire drenched in sarcasm ......hey, welcome. Nice to have you along. So, you're a first timer with me, then, huh?

There are a number of very good reasons why America should, in fact, lift off where it left off and get back to gettin busy in the business of boosters.

Not the least among them being that tried and true, still true today, caveat that if we don't make it so, they will.

Ronald Reagan once called Russia the Evil Empire.

How totally George Lucas has that turned out to be?

At the same time, it's expected, and totally to be expected, that there will be resistance, even rebellion at the idea of spending, as Carl Sagan used to say, billions and billions (and billions and billions, adjusted for inflation since Sagan's days) on what promises to be a staggeringly complex, multi-layered, infinitely challenging undertaking while the American wheelhouse is occupied by a failed real estate hustler who thinks Nazis and White Supremacists are A-OK.....and the former U.S.S.R is, like, totally a BFF.

Put simply...

Right idea, right time.

Totally wrong guy.

History, or a little paraphrase of it, offers up what I think sums it up best.

John F. Kennedy threw the metaphorical American cap over the wall of space and, as the old anecdote concluded, we had no choice to but to follow it.

I lived during Jack Kennedy's 1000 days. I witnessed Jack Kennedy's vision of America in space.

Donald Trump...

You're no Jack Kennedy.

Stick to walls you can't get built and ducking accountability you can't hide from forever.

And leave our return to space to men...and women...of vision.

Intelligent life forms.

Traveling from the New Frontier......

...to the Final Frontier.

 

"...The Forty-Percent Solution...".

Let's talk a little magic.

There's magic tricks.

Magic spells, magic powers, magic potions.

Magic words, magic carpet, magic moments.

But that's not the magic mostly in mind today.

Magic number.

And the magic number is 40.

As in 40%.

Or, for those for whom complicated mathematical terminology is overly complicated and confusing, four out of ten.

A brief wander on to the Google offers up an eclectic and entertaining array of examples of 40 percentages.

Or, to be more grammatically precise, 40 percent percentages.

Sucking at mathematics is no reason to let our grammatical muscles get all flabby, as well.

40% of food eaten in the United States is never eaten, tossed out, wasted.

40% of the buildings currently up and running in Manhattan could not meet contemporary codes and would not be allowed to be constructed.

40% of moms fake a positive reaction to the gifts they receive on Mother's Day. One assumes that number skyrockets when you start talking anniversary gifts from the husband.

40% of people's first memory in life is fiction.

And according to a traditional Navy Seal rule, when your mind tells you that "you're done"...you're actually only 40% done.

Meanwhile, unless you've been hanging out with Gilligan and the Skipper and the gang for the last three years or so, you have heard that, at any given time, give or take a point or two, 40% of Americans approve of the Donald Trump presidency.

For those of you who approve of the Donald Trump presidency, that's four out of ten.

But here's a 40% percent percentage that should, by any reasonable measure, cause 100% of people in 100% of America to say we are 100% not gonna stand for this shit.

According to research and polling done by the global marketing research and consulting firm Ipsos, 40% of Republicans believe that Donald Trump should have the right to shut down news outlets as he sees fit and/or necessary.

Yeah.

You know what?

We're not gonna waste any time or get bogged down into any mindless, useless, superfluous endless loop yammering back at forth at each other regarding the First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States of America and that pesky little hair in Donald's demagogue soup dealing with the "free press".

Because, at some point in every experience that occurs in mankind's timeline, there comes a point where debate/discussion/dissent/dissection and assorted other distractions need to be put back in the bottle that needs to be corked and put back on the shelf.

This is one of those times. And it's a particularly enjoyable time for me, personally, because I am always delighted to put a period at the end of this sentence which, all due credit where due, I copped from a relatively obscure movie starring Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah.

"Save time. See things my way."

There is no debate and/or discussion required or, for that matter, permitted on this subject.

Constitution says free press.

Here endeth the debate and/or discussion.

For those of you who approve of the Donald Trump presidency, what this means is that you don't get to wave the Second Amendment in my face until I wave the First Amendment in yours.

For those of you who approve of the Donald Trump presidency and wear red caps, the Second Amendment is that right to bear arms one.

For those of you who approve of the Donald Trump presidency, wear red caps AND show up at the "love me, need me, hold me, thrill me, kiss me" meetings, that's the one that says you can has all the guns you kin git yore hands on.

But about 90% of me has digressed, at this point, from our chat about 40%.

The magic number.

Four out of ten people approve of this "president" and this "presidency".

Four out of ten people who call themselves Republicans think this "president" should be able to violate the Constitution by shutting down part or all of the "free press."

Yeah.

You know what?

We're gonna also skip over the obvious, legitimate, but ultimately intellectually exhausting debate and/or discussion about the part of the presidential oath that says "preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States" and how shutting down any news outlet would be a violation of that oath because, again, mankind timeline, back in the bottle, re-cork the bottle, back on the shelf.

Yada to the yada.

Let's abracadabra, presto chango back to our chit chat as regards the magic number.

40%.

And what needs to start happening now, 100% of the time.

We need to cut out losses.

And start disregarding four out of ten people.

Primarily because, at this point in that mankind timeline, there's very little, actually, make that there's nothing, literally nothing, that will, from all the evidence we've seen,  knock those four out of ten people out of their starry eyed adoration for this guy.

And as regards continued efforts, or wishful thinking, to change those minds, here's a little nugget I wrote a long time ago that more than applies in this situation.

If you are faced with a large brick wall in your path, you take a few steps back, then, at all the speed you can muster, run full bore, smashing into that wall face first to knock it down...and you stagger back, broken and bloodied.....

...is it the wall's fault?

Cue the Al Wilson paraphrase.

You knew durn well /it was a wall / before your face smashed in.

And as far as disregarding those four out of ten is concerned?

It's a matter of simply finding ways to work around them. Back the candidates who inspire and don't incite, do what you can to encourage those in your circle to register and to show up and to vote, not just the next time, but every time. Call, write, email and make it clear to the elected officials in your town, county, district and state that you are holding them accountable for every single move they make, every motion they endorse, every vote they cast. And not just at the next election. Remind them of words like recall and impeachment.

The days of delaying accountability by waiting for an election two or four or six years down the road need to end.

And they need to end now.

And every effort made, every voice raised, every march marched in support of ending this mutation of a "presidency" will be met with dissent and disgust and derision and hostility by those people who have cast their lot with someone who will, in the end, leave them bitter and resentful and betrayed when he returns to his tax sheltered millions and they finally realize that they were conned like no one has ever been conned before.

Just like the child who insists on touching the hot plate, some people simply have to be burned before they learn their lesson.

At last count, that would be four people.

Out of ten.

Regardless of what they say or do or protest or scream at the top of their "love me, need me, hold me, thrill me, kiss me" meeting voices, though, they're headed for a fall.

Because they're outnumbered.

See, 40% of Americans approve of the Donald Trump presidency.

That means 60% are ready to pull the plug.

All they have to do....is show up.

And this mutation in the mankind timeline comes to an end.

Guaranteed.

100%

The real magic number.