Skilled, soulful leadershIp in government
Long, healthy lives for our kids and their families
5 million dollars, after taxes
Just a little more than usual
Skilled, soulful leadershIp in government
Long, healthy lives for our kids and their families
5 million dollars, after taxes
Hadn’t heard about the Mob for a while, was wondering if they were still around. Of course they emerge amidst a scandal involving NBA players and teams. Who couldn’t have seen that coming?
Betting is so mainstream anymore that it’s a wonder any event or sport can go unscathed for very long. It’s such a slimy endeavor. Even commentators plug it, trying to give it a certain validity? Make it sound commonplace and normal, just part of the scene?
There’s such kismet between outfits like Fan Duel and the NFL that it’s surprising people aren’t screaming “Get a room!” into their televisions.
Money, money, money. Any way, any how.
Probably bike riding, which we don’t do very often. Besides that, it’d be working in the yard– walking, lifting a bit, just moving.
I do try to get to the Y on a regular basis, but that feels more like a discipline and not quite as enjoyable– more like work than what I do in the yard at home. And my wife and I take walks on occasion, using several different routes around the local neighborhoods.
I tend to believe that unless I won a sweepstakes or something, the cost would be way beyond what I could or would be willing to pay, so my answer is nothing. I think I’ll stay put on terra firma and stick with the earthbound risks. There would have to be too many assurances and guarantees, and the training would be a bear.
It’d be a cool view from out there, though.
America as cash cow. This, apparently, is how the one-percenters view the world. They may pay lip service on rare occasions to the more abstract, ethereal qualities of life. But they’re pretty much locked in to acquiring wealth and power. Capitalism is their god, the religion that sustains them.
Working the system, taking advantage, making money hand over fist. Saying “I dare you” to taxation and obligations to anybody but shareholders and their own bottom lines. It’s a well-rehearsed spiel.
They’ll claim a grand vision, that their gigantic projects will unleash local productivity, provide employment, pretty much be a godsend in numerous ways—all in exchange for low or non-existent taxation. They’ll claim they need the revenue to put back into the operation, for expansion, etc. They may even provide funding for paving local roads, build a bike path that hardly ever gets maintained, or make a contribution to a local food bank—anything that keeps the skeptics at bay and polishes their image. It smacks a bit too much of bribery.
It’s difficult not to be skeptical of motives and philosophies where, when most everything is peeled away, all that’s left is strategy in the pursuit of liquidity and profit. Almost like a never-ending game, or an addiction.
In any event, shiny and new often enough turns to dull and rusty, and the players take the money and run.
SInce I’ve retired, I haven’t considered other paths, but during the working years, or more at the beginning of them, I fantasized about meteorology or astronomy or playing in a band.
Currently, I could probably use a part-time job, but am having trouble envisioning a scenario where I wouldn’t mind having to once again hold to some sort of schedule. The extra money would be nice, but there would have to be an attitude adjustment on my part– I’m really liking not having to be anywhere on a regular basis.
As much press as the No Kings gatherings have received, as often as the non-Fox networks have regaled us with the size and spirit and extent of participation throughout all 50 states, I can’t help but think that even more is needed. Seven million out of 340 million? Doesn’t sound all that impressive. The pressure needs to be sustained, even ramped up. Trump of course is hoping that people just give up, but this is unlikely to happen.
Come to think of it, Trump may be wishing for an ugly turn, where violence breaks out and he has a convenient excuse for sending in the Jan. 6 hoodlums fueled by their $50K bonuses, along with a few National Guard troops from some select red state.
What a rat. Even diehard MAGA should be holding their heads in their hands by now.
Come on, Mike—swear in the congresswoman from AZ so we can get on with the Epstein saga. What’s the big deal, what are you afraid of, and what’s yet in the works in the way of distractions? I bet they get increasingly insane and consequential.
Ooh, maybe there are plans to redesign the Washington Monument! How about just tearing it down and replacing it with some sort of marble and gold leaf monstrosity, another ostentatious pile of excrement by which Donald seeks to mark his territory and compensate for something.
Probably popcorn. Besides that, I’m getting the hang of poached eggs.
One of the few recipes I have memorized is a chicken wild rice soup. Made it just the other day. Sticks to your ribs, hits the spot especially when the weather turns cool, goes well with crushed crackers or a slice of warm, freshly baked bread.
Really. How does he keep getting away with this? How can Congress let him run the show by himself? Such capitulation the world has rarely seen.
Stand up, dammit. Or does the fear run too deep anymore? It looks like the courage train has long left the station, and now it’s all about riding the coattails for as long as you can hold on. Or for as long as you can keep your consciences in a vault while ignoring the key in your pocket.
How did you let him finagle so much power? He’s still a weak little baby man underneath all that hair and makeup and false bravado, but you’ve insisted on feeding him, encouraging him. There must be something in it for you, but what can it be besides your own job security and power? Kind of sad when all that’s left to you is a compromise of your principles. Principles do matter, you know.
And all your precious Republican “values”? You’ll find them in the shitter.
What’s it like, Mike—to be the mouthpiece for an infantile tyrant, to have to stand in front of the press and lie your ass off and feign outrage and put lipstick on a pig, day after day?
What’s it like to have to spew the party line on a regular basis, even if deep inside you might be wondering if what you’re doing is pleasing your God, or pissing Him off? It must be stressful for you, must get confusing every now and then.
Here’s what many of us want to know: Why do you keep doing it? Do you ever feel like you’re being played, or that you were chosen because you could play the role of Yes Man so well?
Do you really love your God, Mike? Do you have a conscience? If you do, it must be taxed constantly by the weight of the ignominious position you’ve put yourself in. How do you think this ends, Mike?
Does it end well for anybody?