The Rudderless U.S.S. America

 

It’d be impossible for all who truly love the real America not to be concerned about what’s been going down here and abroad since last Friday. All of us, who can still think clearly, have become worried sick watching the rudderless ship… the U.S.S. America… seriously off course and getting battered by a raging storm… and rapidly taking on water.

Dissenters’ words and deeds have been akin to fired off distress flares but has anyone even noticed them? Does anyone even perceive the dangers we do… understand our ship is sinking?

Or are genuine, dutifully dissenting patriots being wrongfully viewed as mutineers?

The following brilliant quotations could act like a lighthouse beacon that… if we’re lucky… if it isn’t already too late… will help get the U.S.S. America back on course… back to the safe harbor of sane, sagacious governance for some much needed repairs.

“First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out… because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out… because I was not a Trade Unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out… because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me… and there was no one left to speak for me.”

— Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984)

 

“If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.”

— George Washington (1732 – 1799)

 

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

— George Santayana (1863 – 1962) *

 

* Frequently misquoted as: Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it.

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My 2 Cents’ Worth… 5 Extreme Court Nominee Finalists?

 

If all goes off as scheduled, we’ll know, tomorrow, just who #45’s U.S. Supreme Extreme Court nominee will be… the entity who’ll replace the late Antonin Scalia. Zero doubt, this judicial hack will be a Dark Ages, archconservative who’ll get rubber-stamped and wind up serving a lifetime term. And once he has donned his robe, his decisions will drive America backward and downward… will warp and lay waste to civilized society till death do us part… or the end of the world… whichever comes first.

So who might this appointee be? This is pure speculation… but… would it shock anyone if it were one of these creeps?

  1. David Duke (Cross Burning Klansman)
  2. Wayne Lapierre (Whack-A-Doodle Gun Nut)
  3. Pat Robertson (Televangelist Flock Fleecing Hack)
  4. Vladimir Putin (Puppeteer and Ventriloquist)
  5. Xenomorph (Genocidal “Alien” Film Star)

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DISCLAIMER: With 7+ billion souls inhabiting our world I’d never claim to be the first person to have ever opined, proclaimed, penned, published and/or posted words along these lines.

Nevertheless, that’s my two cents’ worth. Now… my Qs for you re my POV…

Do you agree? Disagree? Like? Dislike? In other words…

A penny for your thoughts?

Uh… seeing how I’ve just expressed my “2 Cents’ Worth”… in the spirit of treating prospective readers, followers and commenters as equals, I’ve opted to update that Q thusly…

2 pennies for your thoughts?

Remembering & Immortalizing Snoopy…

 

Two score and one year ago, on this very day, I was pulling an all-nighter within the four walls of my bedroom / recording studio… laying down some tracks on the Reel-To-Reel to produce an audition tape I’d be submitting at various progressive rock radio stations. Since my room was not soundproofed I’d often opt for the wee hours because they afforded me the best chances for avoiding extraneous, distracting background noises.

Well, unbeknownst to me, while those long, five hours had been ticking down, a dear friend, one I had known and lived with for nearly nine years, had been experiencing some serious medical difficulties… a discovery I made soon after powering down all my audio gear and emerging into the hallway. There I found him sitting just outside my door… in the exact same spot where he’d be waiting for me whenever inviting me to join him on our long walks through the wilderness.

At first… nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary… however…

As we silently walked side by side into the dining room, just as I slid the patio doors open, Snoopy, a Labrador/Sheppard mix, let out the doggy equivalent of a moan. His hind legs seemed to give out a bit but he did manage to, somehow, muster sufficient strength to make it outside into our dark, snow swept backyard where, for a moment, he looked back at me before continuing onward… prior to lying down.

What I suspected was happening… well… this wasn’t totally unexpected. You see, the previous fall his veterinarian had discovered that mosquitos had exposed him to heartworms and, while the good doctor’s treatments had managed to eradicate them… well… too much heart damage had already been done… and that meant a shortened lifespan.

I grabbed my parka and rushed outside to be at Snoopy’s side. The snow had started falling all around us as I crouched down to say my final, “Bye-Bye” and give him one last, long hug, pat on the head and tickle behind the ears… all that transpiring just as he was taking his final breaths.

As I stood up and looked down at his now lifeless body, I first thought back to how, just prior to my recording session, he’d been outside frolicking in the snow drifts… assuming that classic, “Let’s play!” posture… crouched low on his front legs, butt high in the air, tail wagging at 100mph… even letting out a few excited woofs. Oh, how I wished I had taken the time to join him… so we could’ve revisited nearly a decade’s worth of those similar fun times we had shared together.

All the sudden, it dawned on me how, geographically, we had been here before. My mind vividly flashed back to a warm, sunshiny, midmorning Saturday… June 10, 1967… Snoopy’s first day with us… his new human family. I had carried him from our family car and had set him down on the very same spot where he had chosen to die. That had to have been more than coincidental.

Admittedly, most pet owners do tend to assign goodly amounts of human intelligence to their dogs… but Snoopy more than lived up my benchmarks… debunked what many skeptics would be too soon to dismiss as “hype”. A few examples…

When I was a commuter attending a community college, Snoopy was fully aware of the subtle differences between my MWF and TT class schedules… my Mom telling me countless times how he’d always head for our home’s side door where he’d sit and wait for me… like clockwork… five minutes before I’d be pulling into the driveway.

He understood English phrases… even if I deadpanned my words. All I had to say is, “Din-din time.” and he’d rush to the kitchen and await his meal. All I had to say is, “Let’s go bye-bye.” and he’d be wagging his tail and bolting for the backdoor where his leash was hanging. And, if I didn’t initiate that activity, he’d sit outside my closed bedroom door, right on schedule, and repeatedly and loudly plunk his butt down to remind me.

Snoopy knew his math, too. We’d play a game where, in the kitchen, I’d load up his doggy dish with his favorite Milkbones™ and then head for the living room to read the newspaper or watch TV. He already knew the rules to our game. He’d first wait for me to say, “Go See!” and next retrieve one of those snacks… returning to lie down beside my chair to crunch away. After he’d finish, once more I’d say, “Go See!” and he’d repeat everything. Now here’s the amazing part… I knew how many bones I had served up and just to test him, I’d say, “Go See” even though I knew his bowl was empty. He already knew the game was over and didn’t even bother rushing back into the kitchen!

Snoopy felt empathy, too… far, Far, FAR more than we’ll ever see exhibited by present-day politicians. For example, late afternoon, after my doggy’s doctor had presented the facts… the glum prognosis re that heartworm damage… I found myself back home, sitting on the living room floor crying. Snoopy slowly approached… our brown eyes making contact… and then sat closely beside me. Leaning into me it was as if he was saying, “Don’t cry Tom… it’ll be OK.” At 80 pounds he was far from being a lapdog but he did wind up stretching out his front legs over mine and there we stayed till dusk.

Well… I could go on… but… I’m already way past the halfway point of this word document’s page two.

I’d like to thank all of the intrepid souls who’ve stayed with me to these concluding paragraphs.

Snoopy (Born May 7, 1967 ~ Died January 29, 1976) vividly lives on in my mind and by my blogging about him, here, today (especially following this day’s curiously similar snow swept morning), I do hope to immortalize him… his story… our story on the Internet, too… for it’s oft said that no one / nothing ever dies on the World Wide Web.

I also hope that, someday, when my time is up, too, I’ll discover that Heaven (not oblivion) not only awaits me but that I’ll also find my overjoyed, beloved pet, Snoopy, awaiting me right on time…woofing… wagging his tail… right beside our Creator’s “All Pets Allowed” sign.

Tear Down (Your Plans For) This Wall!

 

In keeping with his campaign promise, #45 is now chomping at the bit to break ground on his $8 – $12 BILLION wall along the southern U.S. border… and to (somehow) force Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto to pony up.

Well, as we already know, there’ll be no such payment… which all leaves #45 in a bit of a quandary. Or does it?

Has he forgotten about the furniture within his Manhattan palace? And, no, I’m not suggesting he sell it off.

All he need do is check between the living room sofa cushions for those BILLION$… what he’d consider chump change. It’s bound to be hiding there.

Of course he had better dig a bit deeper because it’d appear that his guesstimate has been way too conservative. The more realistic price tag attached to his wall could easily fall within the 40 BILLION BUCK range… so says one expert, Konstantin Kakaes.

Another predicament? Maybe not.

Obviously, it’d be a YUGE [sic] stretch, but, it’d behoove #45 to behave a bit more like #35 (a.k.a. John F. Kennedy)… to deep six this wall… to understand that waging and winning a war on poverty is a far more productive, permanent project… to accept that this would all take more time and patience… but it’d be well worth it!

The best part of this… it’d require finding “only” 30 of those 40 billion bucks and then utilizing it to feed ALL 870 Million of our world’s undernourished and starving people (btw, be sure to read Leen Abdallah’s Blog).

No fooling… for $30 billion no one would go hungry for ONE FULL YEAR!

Yes, at first #45 would need to assume the role of Santa Claus. But, as his “elves” would be delivering this humanitarian aid, they’d also be building the foundation of good will, worldwide. What’s imperative here is the fed recipients would need to be fully aware that the U.S. is their benefactor. After all, it goes against basic human nature, to “bite” the hand that feeds you.

At that point it’d be time for the U.S. to build on two astute and timeless sayings…

“Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

-and-

“Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.”

In subsequent years, #45’s helpers, if doing their jobs properly, would be instilling a strong work ethic within their “fisher folk” along with the accompanying feelings of satisfaction one generally gets upon reflecting upon a job well done at the end of each workday.

Eventually, criminal activity… and in some instances even terrorist activity… would be on the wane… if for no other reason than honest work gives everyone purpose… prevents idle hands and minds. Not to make light of this but folks would be yawning too damned much to even listen to devilish recruiters (e.g. ISIS).

Yes, stronger, happier humans make for stronger happier homelands.

Ultimately, be it at America’s coastlines or borders, the folks attempting to enter would be friendly tourists… not illegally entering foes. For those who chose to emigrate, with nothing to fear about them, Americans could always welcome them with open hearts, minds and arms.

However, for potential émigrés, it’d would likely be a tough choice to make since their homelands would be just as attractive as America… maybe even more so… after all…

“There’s no place like home.”

 

Donny Downer… Dandy?

 

 

Below, you’ll find some new lyrics to update a song dating back to the first American Revolution… Yankee Doodle Dandy.

Most of us will be able to “hear” the song playing in our minds without an assist from the above video… but if you do opt to hit the playback button, be advised that it will only cover the first four verses… obviously requiring a restart to accompany all eight.

 

1. Donny Downer came to town,

Fraudulent and phony,

Fills folks’ heads with racist crap,

And other acrimony!

 

CHORUS… Donny Downer walls it up,

‘Long the Rio Grande,

Boots out non-wasps P-D-Q,

Of this he doth demand-dee!

 

2. Donny Downer came to town,

For sexist swill he’s wishin’,

Sticks his nose in women’s biz,

He’ll beat them to submission.

 

CHORUS… Donny Downer gets keeps it up,

Donny Downer randy,

Spews forth his misogyny,

And GRABS whatever’s handy!

 

3. Donny Downer’s billionaires,

All squealin’, wheelin,’ dealin’,

Upward redistribute wealth,

From poor folks they are stealing!

 

CHORUS… Donny Downer sucks up wealth,

Donny Downer greedy,

Cronies toast, “To Donny’s health!”

Next exclaim, “Screw the needy!

 

4. Donny Downer came to town,

He’ll wipe out all the wise rules,

Best buds are his Wall Street pals,

To us they’re selfish fools… FOOLS!

 

CHORUS… Donny Downer, screws it up,

When things CRASH, no doubt… doubt,

He’ll then force poor Janes and Joes,

To bail the banksters out… OUT!

 

5. Donny Downer came to town,

Thinks he’s our Big Brother,

His surrogates use double-speak,

To suffocate truth, smother!

 

CHORUS… Donny’s claqueurs whoop it up,

Don shouts / shuts down free press,

Takes down Lady Liberty,

While peeking up her gowned dress?

 

6. Donny Downer came to town,

Disputes with defiance,

Climate change, he calls a hoax,

To nix established science.

 

CHORUS… Donny Downer, know-it-all?

Donny Downer’s swagger dagger,

Kills free speech at E-P-A,

Can’t breathe, can’t speak through gag… GRRR!

 

7. Donny Downer came to town,

His high horse is no pony,

Plots to take out our whole world,

And folks, that’s no baloney!

 

CHORUS… Donny Downer mucks it up,

Brash nuke Tweets he’ll bandy,

Deems each bad-assed mushroom cloud,

Akin to cotton candy?

 

8. Donny Downer’s peeps did vote,

But so did Bad Vlad Putin,

Attacked the Net, sank Hillary’s boat,

Of that there’s no disputin’!

 

CHORUS… Donny Downer won’t fess up,

Donny Downer cocky,

Did Vlad help him? Don neighs, “NYET!”

Yet skeptics say, “Horse Hockey!”

 

The Past 5 Days Have Already Felt Like 8 Years

 

Back in the Sixties, Bob Dylan wrote the song Subterranean Homesick Blues where he lyrically and politically opined…

“You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.”

Well folks, more recently, the devastating winds of change have certainly been blowing out from DC’s far right field. Worse yet it’s been with a fury that would max out at #12 on the Beaufort Wind Force Scale.

The particulars? You’ll be sorry you asked…

At a press conference, we’ve witnessed the irate #45 practically telling a journalist to shut the F up… that same gathering staffed with claqueurs and tricked out with a tabletop loaded with stacks of (probably fake) stuffed, folders.

His congressional cronies have been rubberstamping his wildly unqualified and/or unethical cabinet appointees.

He’s been incessantly whining and Tweeting to (erroneously) claim his Inaugural crowd was the biggest ever and that (nonexistent) voter fraud prevented him from winning the popular vote last November.

An interview with one of his toadies was akin to a tossed word salad, loaded with Orwellian doublespeak / meaningless verbiage (e.g. “alternative facts”).

He’s now gagged and muzzled EPA workers… prevented them from talking about the perils of climate change.

Last but not least, #45’s campaign promises coming true are dismantling All Things Obama, which IN THE END, will bulldoze and bury our civil liberties, civil society, fragile ecology and smartly regulated economy.

Well folks, just like humidity makes summertime intolerable to humans and makes each and every sweltering day seem to drag on and on and on… this political oppression is having a similar temporal effect.

Even though #45 has barely been in power for 5 days… it already seems like it’s been an unbearable 8 LONG YEARS!

Hmmm… it’s a damned shame that Constitutional term limitations cannot kick in along about now!

Mega Thanks To All @WordPress!

 

1 Year Anniversary Achievement

1 Year Anniversary Achievement

 

My heartfelt gratitude to each and every WordPress blogger and visitor who opts to click on by… spend precious time out of their busy lives to read my prose and poetry… and listen to my musical BlogCasts.

I extend extra special thanks to my followers. Over the course of this past year, via our posts and comment box chats, we’ve learned much about each other and have become the online equivalent of pen pals.

There’s also a sense of awe whenever I realize our blogged notions and emotions are reaching out… sometimes even half a world away to touch each other’s minds, hearts and souls. Reading your imaginative, informational and motivational posts… viewing your superb, oft breathtaking photography and works of art have entertained, educated, impressed and inspired me… and made me a far, Far, FAR better blogger.

As for the LIKE STARS, which you’ve been awarding my blogs… they’ve all been combining into comforting constellations, which are brilliantly lighting up the darkness that, as of late, has begun to descend upon my day-to-day life and over my once-upon-a-time, free homeland.

With YOU standing by my side… I feel a significant purpose to my existence.

Without YOU… My ideas would forever languish… remain imprisoned within the six cyberwalls of their Word Document cubicles.

Because of YOU… The WordPress Community… I’m looking forward to spending year two with YOU!