Just a little more than usual
Every time this topic appears, I choose something different. So this time around, I’ll use one from Bertrand Russell, since it seems a propos of the times in which we live:
The fact that an opinion has been widely held is no evidence that it is not utterly absurd.
Yes, I guess he does live in my head rent-free. But what’s the alternative—to carry on as if he’s not there? Ignore him? That’s impossible.
His sympathizers, er disciples, wonder what all the hubbub is about, wonder why so many of us seem so perturbed by him. But The Base is a lost cause, zombie-like. They have no capacity, no willingness to entertain the reality that their hero is an empty vessel, mostly bark, little bite. They’ve swallowed the hook, can’t wriggle free. They believe what he’s saying, and what they hear on Fox News and the like.
One might think that, by now, they would be wondering why things aren’t better than they are, since he promised to do so much for them on Day 1. It must have something to do with not wanting to admit their error. They’re having trouble coming to terms with the fact that they’ve been lied to all along, that they got drawn in by an appeal to their own bigotry and misguided faith. By an overweight gas bag with a bogus sales pitch.
Get your own house in order, and all that. Take yourself seriously enough, but not so much that you see no one else.
And remember– Donald Trump is no one’s role model. He is indeed one of a kind, and that’s one too many.
It’s enough to shake one’s confidence. There is a steady stream of half-truths and outright lies, statements intended to placate the public and prop up the markets. There is too much of putting the cart before the horse, too much inexperience and willful ignorance, too much dependence on heavy-handedness and threats that often turn out to be empty.
We can bomb Iran into seeming oblivion and in the process deplete our own supply of armaments and come to realize that they can still fire missiles and drones at us and kill our troops and wreak havoc among our allies.
We witness, on pretty much a daily basis, the intentional weakening of institutions and programs that interpret the law, that monitor air and water quality, that scan the horizon for the next pandemic, that help with paying premiums on over-priced insurance and medicine. In general, we witness the stunning mishandling of responsibilities, shirking duties, all in the name of self-preservation and self-enrichment and vengeance.
“Progress” is a four-letter word, change is anathema, “wokeness” is a misappropriated battle cry. And right now, anything that raises doubt in our ability to defend against cyber threats only serves to increase the likelihood that Donald Trump and his League of Assholes will try to sabotage the November 3 elections, on the grounds that the results can’t be trusted.
The truth is, our own President can’t be trusted. Many of us, a majority of us, have known this for a very long time.
Cooking, self care, conversation, etc.
For purposes here, I’ll say listening. It’s been getting tossed around the last few years because of entrenched opinions and world views. I’m not sure it’s that people don’t know how to do it, but rather that they purposely choose not to do it. I’m as guilty as anyone in this regard. Once one feels as though they’ve heard enough– or heard it all– then it becomes very easy to tune out, even as there is an insistence that all sides make valid points we should be aware of.
Another more cliched skill is handling a digital device, except this one may be more legitimate, though with an asterisk. People cop out and throw up their hands and say they don’t understand– or can’t understand– but really they just don’t want to try.
Maybe a cross between Charlie Brown and George Bailey. Charlie is loyal and a bit wishy-washy, though at times can be quite determined; George is haunted by unfulfilled dreams and worried that his presence in the world has made little difference to anyone.
Beyond cause and effect, besides action and consequence, I have trouble believing that everything happens for a reason. That’s a pretty wide-ranging, convenient generalization.
If someone is always looking for a rational explanation, or a silver lining, I believe they may be grasping at straws, searching for something that isn’t there. Not everything in life can be made sense of, or wrapped up with a nice bow, or is possessed of some intrinsic meaning.
When a young child dies of cancer, or a couple succumbs in an accident on their wedding day, or war breaks out and people die needlessly at the hands of some cold-hearted politician on a power trip, there are few things less comforting than someone offering that God has another angel in heaven, or that some terrible occurrence is God’s will. If I hear someone say such things, I want to grab them by the collar and shake them awake.
Of course, I don’t do that. I instead grimace like I just heard someone scratch their fingernails on a chalkboard, then find somewhere else to be.
We go to great lengths to put a square peg in a round hole, to sooth ourselves, find that balm in Gilead, and tell ourselves that all is well when it’s not.
We grieve, we make peace, we lean on each other. We walk with a limp, learn to live with the loose ends and the mystery.
I don’t have a style, really. Just clean and uncluttered, functional furniture, some artwork and family photos on the walls.
To the mainstream media: stop covering him like he’s still a curiosity. He’s an anomalous malignancy that must be removed before the body simply succumbs. There’s nothing honorable or upright— or interesting— about him. He is a known quantity, a dime-a-dozen carnival barker, a master of distraction, conniving and scheming his way to some ignominious prominence where he hopes to remain entrenched until he dies.
Trouble is, he’s just the tip of the iceberg. As AOC once observed, “…removing Trump will not remove the infrastructure of an entire party that embraced him…”
Trump is a figurehead, the malleable, empty-souled shell of a human that Kevin Roberts and the rest were dreaming about.
-Now he’s bringing his talents, however diminished, to Philly. I guess he’s still God’s gift to somebody. Lebron must be kind of full of himself. Remember, ‘Sixers fans—he’s 42 years old. Not sure why he hasn’t called it a day yet. It must be that competitive spirit, eh?
-If the Supreme Court allows widespread implementation of Trump’s Executive order limiting mail-in ballot voting, then we will have official confirmation that the highest judicial body in the land is in Trump’s back pocket, and we can proceed to place our heads firmly between our legs and kiss our ass goodbye.
What possible argument can Trump’s lawyers bring to this case that would supersede people’s right to vote? Trump and the rest see the writing on the wall, and they’re scraping and clawing for any advantage, no matter how desperate and hair-brained or unconstitutional.
A decision in Trump’s favor should be viewed as aiding and abetting a freaking felon.
3 Cents' 