Just a little more than usual
Hard to know. It’s only 6am EDT. So far, it’s been fairly typical– the alarm went off at 5, I hit the snooze prompt once, got up, hit the bathroom, poured myself some cold brew, took a sip of water, headed downstairs, turned on the dehumidifier, sat down on the couch, and fired up the sluggish laptop (must be updating).
Weather-wise, it looks like another day in the steamroom, with some relief coming later in the week.
I came across a Facebook post the other day that cuts to the chase, with regard to how I feel about Donald Trump. It’s a summation of what has really been at the root of my disgust all along.
The sentence that really resonates is one that I almost shouted “Amen!” to: “It (this person’s opposition to Trump) has everything to do with my identity as a decent person.”
I’m no angel, and my intent is not to put myself on a pedestal in place of Trump, but I also reject… “the bigotry, misogyny, and racism that permeate his rhetoric and actions; and his obnoxious and thoroughly disgusting demeanor that does not embody the principles, values, or true spirit of America.”
That’s it. That’s what, perhaps, so many of us feel is at the core of our collective angst. It’s all about who Trump is at his core, and the very troubling fact that he has ascended to the pinnacle of public life in this country. He is who the world sees. He is the one who so feebly and often embarrassingly speaks for America, represents us on the world stage. He is not who we are, or who most of us aspire to be.
Donald fucking Trump, of all people, has railroaded enough public sentiment to bamboozle his way to a return to the White House, and now he gets to try to finish what he started the last time he was there!
Cue the head in hands and the gaze toward the heavens, because most of us are still waiting for some sort of divine intervention, and Trump ain’t that.
Message to Donald Trump and the rest: we don’t want what you’re selling.
There’s a reason Stephen Colbert’s attitude may seem biased. It’s because he knows a rat when he sees one, and he has every right to call it out. It’s a choice he apparently made a long time ago. All those right-wingers who take offense and are glad he’s getting the ax and feel he had it coming apparently forget that the horse they’re backing is a human anachronism, a navel-gazing loser.
They don’t have to watch Colbert—surely they can find something more user-friendly on Fox or OANN. Trouble with that is, a right-wing comedian is hard to come by and would probably be hard to watch. He or she can’t really be funny—they don’t know how. A world view so tainted by self-righteousness, paranoia, anger, and moldy thinking isn’t exactly fertile ground for comedy.
One of the sauropods, the big herbivores– Diplodicus, Brachiosaurus, Dreadnoughtus, Argentinosaurus. T-rex and Velociraptor are so cliche, and for some reason it bothers me that they get all the attention. I like the more docile giants.
Like a Newfie, on steroids.
So, what department or service has been downsized or shuttered while the country gets dragged into the sordid Jeffrey Epstein saga? What have we been distracted from noticing while the media go down this latest rabbit hole?
This administration is useless, spending all its time litigating, and extricating itself from tight corners. It’s a preponderance of jokes leveled at a public who’s yearning for competent governance and expecting results and relief and answers, but instead getting salacious drama and a constant diet of vapid excuses and misdirection.
What, exactly, is their end game, and do they even have one? Somebody must– right, Kevin?
If my wife could be talked into getting on a plane, probably out to see our daughter and son-in-law in Colorado. If not CO, maybe Hawaii?
Otherwise, maybe give them to someone, or look into a cash equivalent– if these options were available.
America really is in love with celebrity and in-your-face crudeness. Witness our Commander in Chief. I have trouble celebrating this.
Larger than life people—by virtue of appearing on a TV or movie screen— get eulogized for several news cycles, or revered as if they were the Pope, somebody who dealt with real life, who improved the lot of humankind beyond an ability to entertain or allow us to momentarily escape our perceived mundane existence; who created an advancement in medicine, or invented something that made life better and safer and easier, or wrote or spoke words born of life experience and acquired wisdom that inspire us.
Celebrity is subjective, shallow, unsubstantive, fleeting, ego-feeding vanity.
Still, better to be rich and famous, it seems, than to have left one’s mark as an innovator or inventor or peace-seeker or, more simply, a thoughtful, decent human being– most of whom spend their lives flying under the radar, away from the limelight.
I guess it depends on who you talk to. I’ve had several, along the way. One was “Jed,” a mistake made by my Scoutmaster who got me confused with another guy in the troop. Another was “Og 1,” because I was the oldest of three brothers. And another, less used one was “Pencil,” because I was tall and thin.
But not that thin.
Deception is rampant, but there’s nothing we can do about it, except wait for Trump to buy the farm.
The wheels of injustice are turning, the cover-up is in full gear. When you can divert the efforts of a thousand FBI agents just so they can scour Epstein documents for any sign of Trump’s name, we should know that the jig is up, that the powers that be can manipulate justice to their liking, to whatever’s gonna work best for them.
Meanwhile, the rest of us have to suffer through this ugly charade, this administration that doesn’t know the first thing about real governance but likes where it is and isn’t in a hurry to leave.
Infuriating beyond reason.
Eat healthy most of the time, and take the meds that our doctor has prescribed. I am very conscious of avoiding sitting for very long, though I still sit too much. I avoid the noise of political commentary whenever possible, other than Colbert and Kimmel and a couple others. I read, I count as exercise the days I work with our son at his landscaping business. Other days I try to get to the Y. I play the piano on occasion, and recently dusted off the guitar a friend gave me years ago. These are pleasant diversions. And a good visit with the grandkids usually tires me out but lifts my spirits.
3 Cents' 