Mouth vs. Muth: Fireworks of a Different Nature

I refuse to name, by name, the above video’s pathetic, Y-chromosomed organism… for the following reasons…

• Shooters must always be denied the Internet infamy they hunger for. Publicity can only embolden… in this case… cause others of his ilk to seek the high elective offices, which they must always be denied. True… technically speaking… and to the best of our knowledge… that villain is unarmed (in the conventional sense). Nonetheless, he is shooting off his mouth… i.e., a lethal weapon in need of a holster / muzzle.

• By rendering him nameless, this facilitates each reader’s ability to Fill-In-The-Blank… to finger-point / make examples of other, equally culpable, notorious Fascists. Know this. He is but one of countless other conspirators who, left unchecked, will slam the wrecking ball into Liberty, Equality and Basic Human Decency… reduce the very American Dream, itself, to rubble.

Of course, rendering such a miscreant generic does present a problem. We will still need to call him something. Common obscenities do instantly come to mind… and would do him justice… but let’s not sink down to that level. Hmm… why not dub that bastard, Benedict?

Let’s now dig deeper to direct our attention to Benedict’s honorable colleague… State Senator Katie Muth… who had been attempting to speak on behalf of the formerly homeless Philadelphia man, John Boyd. So, why, in God’s name, did mister hothead deem it necessary to relentlessly shout her down?

• For starters, can we all agree that we must not drag God into this?

• Might Benedict’s temper tantrum be a textbook example of arrested development / poor toilet training? One can certainly see how this elitist could get all whiny and cranky since no self-respecting nanny… from out of his gilded past… would ever be a party to changing a (purportedly) continent (alleged) grownup’s soiled / overloaded (metaphorical?) diaper.

• Could he be channeling his misguided loyalty to / hero worship for a (diapered?) misogynist fake prez, who needs no further introduction? Shared hatred towards womankind could certainly account for Benedict’s catapulting a shedload of his undue and indefensible, seething disrespect and contempt.

• Might Benedict believe his “number two” smells better than anybody else’s? To be sure, [1] that very notion reeks and [2] belongs nowhere near any representative form of government. In actuality, the only thing that rude dude IS representing amounts to his own, pathetic, disgustingly odoriferous ideology… little doubt… the indefensible mindset that ONLY elitists are entitled to be seen and heard. We, the common-folk voters, must never empower the likes of unlikable him.

• Or maybe he had been driven into a state of panic? Senator Muth had been, indirectly, [1] exposing the stealthily waged Trumpian Class War against the less fortunate souls of our world and [2] drumming up some much needed political blow-back. What Benedict likely fears the most is a clued in, incensed electorate whose cast ballots could result in a monumental ass kicking at the polls… as in… our expeditiously kicking Trumpian fat fannies, such as his, out of office.

Just for the sake of completeness, we must consider one remaining possibility.

• Albeit it highly unlikely, might Benedict actually be at war with himself? Might what little that remains of his conscience be causing pangs of guilt to occasionally flare-up? After all, no human can forever aid and abet the cruel and inhumane Trumpian class war (against the impoverished masses) without that taking its toll. Of course, it does require both brains and courage for anyone to [1] confront such faults and failings and [2] self-correct. And since it’s unlikely he was ready, willing and able to do so, he had little choice but to [1] wimp out, [2] reset his micro-brain to Trumpian default settings and [3] revert to knuckle dragging to avoid standing upright… standing for upright human decency.

One can only hope that Benedict will someday, hopefully soon, emerge the humane victor and join what little is left of civil society.

While I totally admire Senator Katie Muth for [1] having been the adult in the room, [2] keeping her cool and [3] resisting the temptation to get in Benedict’s face to yell, “Shut the F up!”… well… the sad truth is that Trumpians sneer at civility and deem it an exploitable weakness.

Oh, how I yearn for the day where such a pessimistic outlook can only be seen in our rear-view mirrors.

End of blog? Not quite yet…

On this occasion… the 243rd Birthday of America…

I’ll readily admit that this has not been your typical “Happy Birthday Blog”. But I cannot think of a more meaningful way to express such a sentiment than to [1] further expose the abject Anti-Americanism which Trumpian politics / policy stands for and [2] launch some fireworks of a different nature… i.e., send upwards, the red flare of distress regarding the Trumpian conspiracy, a plot which threatens to snuff out Lady Liberty… wherever she may try to reside and flourish… be that in your homeland or mine.

Can freedom endure? Can we / our descendants persevere? Just how many more genuine, 4th of July celebrations can there be? Well… only time… and liberal, 2020 Election Day changes… if any… will tell…

 

 

 

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Lady Liberty’s Ascension? ~ 1 Quick Limerick #054

 

 

Where Lady Liberty sings, freedom rings,
She’s loathed by iron fist, autocrat kings,
They’ll wring out her last breath,
And chokehold her to death,
Till she sprouts angel wings, plucks on harp strings.

 

 

Needless to say… don’t ever let autocrats ascend to power in the first place!

Deny them power at the ballot box, wherever / whenever possible!

Don’t ever let them get away with murdering freedom!

Since I am a diehard Star Trek™ buff… not a

Star Wars™ aficionado check out

Videographer Anthony Parisi’s

apt commentary…

 

“One of the reasons George Lucas made the Star Wars prequels is so kids could, through myth, learn to spot future “Darth Sidious(es)” insidiously rising to power in a democracy. I haven’t seen anybody make a proper mashup yet so here’s my public service to the nation. This is how liberty dies. Listen to George. from Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith (2005) and the rise of Donald Trump at the 2016 Republican National Convention (7/18/16)”

 

OK… I’m back now to offer up my mega thanks to Mr. Parisi for his video,

which greatly enhances my political statement AND to also

express my gratitude to you for reading my verses!

For more limericks (as well as other verses &

song parodies, etc.), head over to my

“Categories Menu” and

select “Poetry”.

 

 

A Walk Through the Land of Broken Dreams…

What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted serves as both song title and question posed to us all. We are invited to traipse alongside singer Jimmy Ruffin and song composers James Anthony Dean, Paul Riser and William Henry Witherspoon as… together… we walk through the land of broken dreams.

With each subsequent, soulfully, dolefully sung lyrical couplet, memories of our own failed interpersonal relationships are inevitable. Caring souls, everywhere, can relive and relate to the universal feelings of loss… identify with those tearstained, heavyhearted moments from our past.

Several days ago, while playing back this Sixties era, Motown musical masterpiece / classic, I realized that… as is true with all superbly crafted poetry… these lyrics cast their spell on more than one level.

The addressed feelings of emotional distress are not unlike what transpires following the actual death of a loved one… even the death of one’s country… the death of Lady Liberty.

Indeed, patriotism… the love of one’s homeland… is no different.

And what description more aptly sums up the breakup of our relationships with our present-day, troubled world… indeed, the breakup of my relationship with my ideologically fractured, broken down homeland… other than “the land of broken dreams”… the end of the American Dream?

While my love of country has not wavered in the least and I’ve always sensed that my country has loved me in return (well… at least up until January 20, 2017), there IS a diabolical political force afoot and his wicked intent is to make damned sure that my love… my compatriots’ love… shall forever remain unrequited.

In a sense, America’s oppressor is not unlike a narrow-minded, stone hearted, selfish, egotistical, domineering father figure who… just to ensure relationships never blossom between suitors and his daughter, Lady Liberty… imprisons, shackles and gags her in the depths of his dingy, dank, stone walled and iron barred dungeon.

To extend this… he does so just to prevent patriotic love relationships between country and countrywomen / countrymen.

“Daddy” is flat out denying us all the opportunity to experience sweet Libby’s delightful aspect… the freedom gleaming in her eyes, the warmth of her welcoming smile… her soft whispers of unconditional patriotic love.

I can only hope that you, my international readers, are never forced to share in my anguish… in all true Americans’ anguish… experience our heavy hearts and eyes welled up with tears.

And folks… to now quote Dean, Riser and Witherspoon… “I can’t stand this pain much longer!”

 

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Since in our online lives there can be breakups with / breakdowns to musical links, I’m also including a more enduring presentation of these compelling song lyrics which have now… at least for me… taken on a even deeper meaning. Maybe you feel the same way, too?

 

What Becomes of the Broken Hearted

Songwriters: James Anthony Dean / Paul Riser / William Henry Witherspoon

 

 

 

As I walk this land of broken dreams
I have visions of many things
But happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and confusion

What becomes of the broken-hearted
Who had love that’s now departed?
I know I’ve got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Maybe

The roots of love grow all around
But for me they come a-tumblin’ down
Every day heartaches grow a little stronger
I can’t stand this pain much longer

I walk in shadows searching for light
Cold and alone, no comfort in sight
Hoping and praying for someone who’ll care
Always moving and goin’ nowhere

What becomes of the broken-hearted
Who had love that’s now departed?
I know I’ve got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Help me please

I’m searching, though I don’t succeed
For someone’s love there’s a growing need
All is lost, there’s no place for beginning
All that’s left is an unhappy ending

Now, what becomes of the broken-hearted
Who have love that’s now departed?
I know I’ve got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
I’ll be searching everywhere
Just to find someone to care
I’ll be looking everyday, I know I’m gonna find a way
Nothing’s gonna stop me now
I’ll find a way somehow
And I’ll be searching everywhere
I know I gotta find a way
I’ll be looking

 

 

Could this be the Perfect Song for Imperfect Times?

As a virtual DJ on the www, I’m here to plug the perfect song for our imperfect times… Frédéric Chopin’s Piano Sonata No. 2! This catchy little ditty (a.k.a. the Funeral March) does have crossover appeal, too! It could be a Billboard EZ Listening chart topper! A night-clubber’s let’s fall in love, dance floor fave! The ultimate sports arena, pregame tune that’ll get fans off their asses and standing to salute the flag… AND MORE!

By now, some of you may be asking…

“Hey, hold your horses Mr. DJ, don’t they already play that ‘oh-say-can-you-see’ thingie?”

So true! So true! BUT… if all goes wrong… we’ll soon be needing to replace the Star Spangled Banner. Hey, don’t blame me, it’s not my fault. I voted for Hillary! So, just who should we point the (middle) finger at?

Well, in case you haven’t kept up with the front page news, Bad Vlad Putin and You-Know-Who’s Helsinki Summit is now one week off! You’ve just gotta know… or at least suspect… that this is the venue where they’ll be colluding to finalize their wretched plot to overthrow America… to bump off and bury Lady Liberty.

Hence, the all too real need for Chopin’s Funeral March. What better tune to play once that Russian puppeteer and his puppet… once that Russian ventriloquist and his dummy deep-six America.

Now, don’t look so glum… maybe we can even persuade pianist Sir Elton John to play at Lady Libby’s memorial service? Of course, from that point forward… no… strike that… from that point backward… long sigh… it’ll all be downhill.

But hey… let’s turn our frowns upside down! This is where the crossover appeal aspects to Piano Sonata No. 2 really start to kick in… full force! Considering this dirge’s Putinesque, dreary, Dark Ages, dystopian “feel”, it could easily catch on as the new national anthem for The-Nation-Formerly-Known-As-America!

Of course, wherever / whenever this dirge winds up getting played… be it on your home or workplace device… be it spun by some nightclub disk-jockey… be it blasting over a sports arena’s loudspeakers… be it tracking out on the late Lady Libby’s graveside boombox… this tune is practically screaming out for some lyrics.

I mean… doncha think it’d be kinda-sorta lazy and lame… at times even insensitive… to just hum or whistle along? Even orchestrating this with a kazoo and/or harmonica section could never do it full justice! And let’s not forget that Sir Elton is the consummate vocalist, too!

Perhaps some of you WordPress wordsmiths, poets and songwriters… who are able channel the spirit of Francis Scott Key… could step up to home plate? Yes? No? Maybe?

I can almost hear you objecting…

“Hey man… this is YOUR premise! Why should you make US do all the heavy lifting? Compose your own damned lyrics!”

Uh… so sorry. I’ve become so geeked about this track, I momentarily failed to realize how unfair of me it would be to put you on the spot like that… and on such short notice, too! Hell I cannot even offer you any monetary compensation!

I can almost hear you asking…

“Why are you making such a fuss over an 1840 Chopin composition?”

Well, here’s why. Now, while I’d never blame the messenger, NPR’s All Things Considered… it’s the Trumpian messages / stories, which they have little choice but to report, which have been rendering me disgusted, disconsolate and disillusioned. So much so, that one afternoon, this past week, I just had to sit down. My piano bench being handy, I parked my butt there. Slumping over in woe-is-me mode, I cradled my head in my crossed over forearms… just in time to hear the fake prez’s soundbite featuring his gleeful outburst / announcement of his intent to “rob the judicial cradle”… i.e., just to ensure his handpicked wretched SCOTUS judge’s decisions could lay waste to my homeland for the next 40 to 50 years!

Now, be your “political party hat” hued blue, red or purple, to smell such extreme partisanship stench anywhere near the Supreme Court bench should disgust you! The mere notion of that sure as hell disgusts me!

Shortly thereafter, once my nauseous feelings subsided a bit, something totally unexpected happened. My limp body shot upright into a sitting position. The heat from the brightly glowing, metaphorical lightbulb hovering over my noggin was almost palpable. The voice in my head was now offering up what I believed to be a brilliant suggestion.

“Hey Tom, what this endless barrage of bad news is sorely lacking is you coming up with a clever way to marginalize it.”

Free association (and the fact that I was already seated at my piano) did the rest. I then brainstormed along the following lines. “Hmmm… how about an editorial comment / musical statement… to reflect your mood? Naturally, it’d have to be loaded with minor chords! But, what oh what should I play? As I positioned my ten fingers on my piano keyboard… EUREKA… in a flash, Chopin came to mind. I’d transform Piano Sonata No. 2‘s first eleven notes into a riff. By the time NPR aired (out) the next DC disaster, I played that dirge and actually found myself chuckling! But laughter? Why laughter I wondered?

I then realized that, subconsciously, I’d been channeling the schtick of my newest keyboard hero… Jon Batiste. For the benefit of my international readers, I’ll briefly mention that Batiste is frontman for Stay Human… Stephan Colbert’s Late Show house band. During many a show opening Colbert monologue, Batiste’s keyboard comedic timing is just as flawless and funny as the wisecracking Colbert’s routine. Both the scripted and improvisational performances… indeed the genius… of both of these super-talents truly compliments one another. True, I’ve yet to hear Batiste play this Chopin riff… but it would not surprise me were he to… someday… do so. Additionally, I do plan to continue my own musical accompaniment of the bad news stories which are sure to follow… as the days drag on and On and ON!

Suffice to say, I’ve only partially explained away my chuckling. But, the following two quotations might help complete this layperson’s introspective, psychoanalysis… as well as complete this post…

Said Erma Bombeck

“There is a thin line that separates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt.”

Said John Lennon and Paul McCartney in a lyrical couplet…

“And though the news was rather sad. Well I just had to laugh.”

Folks… I’m only human. There’s no telling how a steady diet of head-on pain, tragedy, hurt and sad news will impact this caring soul… impact any caring soul. Now… more than ever before…maintaining my / our sense of humor is a literal life or death matter. Forgive me for permitting my sarcasm and gallows humor to kick in. In venting both in this post I can only hope I’ve prevented my body and/or sanity from kicking off.

 

 

One Quick Limerick (#004)

 

Meet mean Ol’ Grumpy, who wants a tall wall,

War refugees, émigrés he’ll ban, stall,

He can’t embrace diverse cultures,

His “ICE-men” swoop down like vultures,

Statue of Liberty’s tears start to fall!