The Great American Stink-Out!

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Seeing how, Stateside, the two-party political juggernaut chronically churns out corporately owned and operated, ragged, non-rugged Prez Wannabes, come the 2024 election cycle, we can count on catching, YET, another whiff of… TA DA…

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Fusty Musty Donald J. Trump v. Old Spice(less) Joe Biden

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Here’s the rub. Biden has yet to fully grasp the severity of the hardcore, Trumper Republicans’ lopsided political playing field; aka their malodorous War on Democracy; their anti-American conspiracy, which absolutely reeks of extreme, unconstitutional, voter suppression laws and egregiously gerrymandered districts.

As such, naïve Biden has lulled himself into the false impression that ALL HE NEED DO is merely air out his stale, “I’m NOT Trump!” campaign motto / mantra and that’ll do what? Snag him a second term?

Sorry to say, Joe IS already miscasting his upcoming, political race in Aesopian terms; i.e., Biden in the role of the svelte, speedy Hare; Trump in the role of the roly-poly, lumbering Tortoise. And the Hare is likely in for a rude awakening. How so?

Well, according to Aesop…

“The story concerns a Hare who ridicules a slow-moving Tortoise. Tired of the Hare’s arrogant behaviour, the Tortoise challenges him to a race. The hare soon leaves the tortoise behind and, confident of winning, takes a nap midway through the race. When the Hare awakes, however, he finds that his competitor, crawling slowly but steadily, has arrived before him.”

Wikipedia Essay [Read More Here]
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Applying a Poli-Sci spin to Aesop…

Come November 2024, Hare Biden’s 2020 supporters will EITHER vote for less electable, 3rd and 4th party presidential wannabes, OR leave blank their ballots’ presidential section, OR not show up at the polls AT ALL; hence Tortoise Trump’s Electoral College victory and the defeat / demise of Ecology, Democracy, Liberty, Literacy and Civility.

Truth be told, President Biden desperately needs an unconventional, highly inventive, campaign manager; a person who could far better articulate dedicated, Anti-Trump / Anti-Fascism messaging; PLUS orchestrate a modicum of mischief. In that dual capacity, I just might prove Joe’s go-to guy.

Here’s the skinny. My game plan draws upon basic, postpubescent biochemistry. You see, nearly all adults are well-armed to most effectively present our Trump Trump / Dump Trump rationale / sentiments; even better, in our down to the nitty-gritty, pitty manner. Actually, in this instance, it’d be better to be underarmed.

Ahem, ahem, what I’m proposing, here, is (a drum roll please)…

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The Great American Stink-Out!

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The onset of our olfactory onslaught would focus on consistently, attending Trump rallies; i.e., PUBLICLY baring arms… uh… our underarms… our unwashed, no applied deodorant / antiperspirant pits. And, just to ensure everything “ripens” to perfection, a mandatory shaving moratorium also needs to be in effect for the duration. Now, here’s where this really, Really, REALLY GETS GOOD! As we all know, the way Ma Nature has designed us, the more passionate we feel about matters, the more we sweat and the more we stink!

Our concerted efforts to curl nose hairs would run the entire 2024 election cycle; from its earliest days all the way up to the close of the Election Day polls. We’d be targeting, in particular, the climate change intensified, sweltering, summertime heatwaves to peaceably protest outside the Republican National Convention venue; with all of our bared arms raised skyward.

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Yep, we’d all be literally Stinkin’ to High Heaven!

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Naturally, we’d need to reassure all prepubescents, who, understandably so, would be feeling a tad left out of all of our funky fun. Not to worry, kiddies, you can always raid your elders’ dirty clothes hampers to snag the requisite, pre-stinked T-shirts. Even if they prove a bit oversized, they could always be repurposed as capes OR (once nailed to a dowel) waved about like flags.

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Now, that’s what I’d brand as the e-PIT-ome of patriotism!

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And, just to make damned sure that each and every MAGA Maggot / Moron we’d meet can totally grasp the true blue meaning of our odor, we’d need to silkscreen emblazon our T-shirts with the message:

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Ya think I stink bad?
Trump’s Fascist Stench
will be the Absolute Pits!

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Folks’ F’d Fate (Poetic Acrostic)

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Fragile Earth moldering diurnally; environmentally
Untold (f)lawmakers legislating; unconstitutionally
Coronavirus variants sickening slaying; microbially
Killer sociopath Putin dying to blow up; atomically
Expletive laced acrostic spelling our fate; vertically
Downward fallen curtains; End of Earth; eventually

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Fallen Curtains

Total Eclipse’s Total Eclipse

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It was within this past Sunday evening’s waning hours when our Universal Overseer aligned, to perfection, our inner solar system’s essential spheres; namely, the Sun, Earth and Moon; thereby (at least in theory) presenting astronomers (accomplished and amateur, alike), one of the few, awe inspiring delights still remaining in modern life.

Alas (as usual), all did not go well for all of us Michiganders. At the most inopportune moment, storm clouds rolled in, start to finish, to totally eclipse this total lunar eclipse.

In other words… the literal clouds; the metaphorical “fallen curtains” had overruled; ruined all our fun.

While most dedicated sky watchers are left little choice but to take, in stride, such dismal celestial washouts, it’s my contention that Great Lakes Staters, such as moi, have been forced to weather far more than our share of the absolutely, disproportionate levels of disappointment.

Such is our sorry “lot” in life (both in the cartographical / geographical and metaphorical sense).

The grand scheme’s far less stellar elements can and do come into play, too; e.g., lifelong occupational and financial disadvantages that still continue to bog down my homeland’s and home state’s citizenry; this all piling on additional disproportionate levels of our shared disappointment. Once again, fallen curtains syndrome.

Yet another relevant to this discourse aspect revolves around one’s relative position on life’s road; in my own case, the nearly seventy Earth orbits behind me along with the expectant, tagging along, alarmingly fewer “laps” before me. Yep, once we reach the onset of “aging out” within society, an entirely unique, awareness heightening perspective kicks in; summed up best as yet, another example of our bearing witness to the fallen curtains.

Consider, too, the looming, far deeper levels of disproportionate disappointment, which our dystopian “leaders” are ignorantly and/or intentionally leaving unchallenged and unchecked.

As I type and you read these very words, these autocrats are allowing humankind’s Final Act to practically author itself. It’s tough NOT to view our collective presence upon the world stage as all but over; such an ill-fate seemingly, already hammered and chiseled into our communal tombstone; all but awaiting those final fallen curtains.

The detailed rundown to The End…

Fragile Earth moldering diurnally; environmentally
Untold (f)lawmakers legislating; unconstitutionally
Coronavirus variants sickening slaying; microbially
Killer sociopath Putin dying to blow up; atomically
Expletive laced acrostic spelling our fate; vertically
Downward fallen curtains; End of Earth; eventually

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
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Stay Healthy!

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Hares’ Heirs’ Hairs

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I cannot help but notice… whenever I happen upon the Hare Family, unexpectedly, my next door neighbors seldom act in a skittish manner.

Just yesterday, with sundown heralding my yard chores’ quitting time, whilst in the (literal) thick of my weed whacking; i.e., my full throttling that device (absolutely cranking out some serious decibels), none of my ferocious racket had proven sufficiently hair-raising to the adorable hare I had happened upon. Nope, I hadn’t “turned a hair” (as it were) at all!

I cannot help but wonder… can hares intellectually and/or instinctively differentiate friend from foe?

After all, a friend, such as moi, would never harm one hair on a hare!

And for that matter… factoring in how we’ve all been enjoying peaceful co-existence for untold generations (theirs; they’re the prolific ones), same goes for how…

I would never harm hares’ heirs’ hairs!

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Get Well Stephen Colbert (et al)

This IS Final(?) Jeopardy!

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Today’s Category: Late Night TV

Today’s Clue…

In ADDITION to Stephen Colbert, James Corden,
Jimmy Kimmel, Seth Meyers & Jimmy Fallon all
hosting talk shows, they have THIS in common.

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Players, you have 30 seconds to express
your response in the form of a Question…

(Anyone opting to actually “compete”, should
think up that Question prior to scrolling down.)

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What is being fully vaxxed
YET, contracting Covid-19?

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TRUE Jeopardy Notation insists we punctuate our responses with a “?”, HOWEVER, there can be no question re the medical ramifications; i.e., while the vaccines are successfully preventing serious and deadly consequences, humans can STILL become coronavirus infected; STILL easily infect others.

And that STILL fully validates this layperson’s contention, from the very onset of this godforsaken plague:

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Only a WORLDWIDE MASK MANDATE can help ensure
we expeditiously snuff out & bury the coronavirus; i.e.,
avoid an apocalyptic scenario where one, maybe more
of its variants void the vaccines; to snuff out & bury us!

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There can be no question that sicko / psycho Donald J. Trump’s politicization of the pandemic has infected and spread throughout the vast body of his MAGA Maniacs / Morons / Malcontents (and beyond); thereby resulting in their all too damned common, cavalier attitude…

…their absolutely indefensible, “offhand, indifferent, casual, dismissive, insouciant, unconcerned; supercilious, patronizing, condescending, disdainful, scornful, contemptuous, couldn’t-care-less, devil-may-care” state of chronic insanity!

Quoted synonyms courtesy of the Oxford American Writer’s Thesaurus

Upon closer scrutiny of this entire mess, matters pan out as the following, grave, glaringly obvious, public health threat…

  • Bad enough… within the entertainment industry, ALL five of those mentioned TV personalities enjoy a vast circle of friends/contacts; far more so than average folks such as you and I do.
  • Even worse… those friends/contacts also enjoy a vast circle of friends/contacts.
  • Worst of all… it’s a near certainty that at some point, some of these infected people will come into contact with immunocompromised and unvaxxed individuals.

It’s at that juncture where the potential for needless suffering / dying enters the big picture.

Returning to the earliest of our pandemic days… we witnessed Colbert, Corden, Kimmel, Meyers and Fallon responsibly sheltering/isolating (e.g., doing their talk show shtick sans LIVE audiences; Zoom interviewing their guests.

More to the point… these hosts and guests, alike, had been just as witty, personable and entertaining as ever. Sure, I do get it, it’s no fun for comedians / entertainers to not cop that buzz; all courtesy of their applauding, cheering, hooting, whooping it up, LIVE audiences; HOWEVER

In the end… the operative word becomes LIVE; as in keeping humanity ALIVE.

The time has come for these five entertainers to cease needlessly Jeopardizing humanity (case in point, Colbert’s covid has even spread to his house band’s impresario, Jon Batiste. Need I say more?) YES, I do need to say more. They must lead by example; demonstrate to the rest of humanity how to behave in a responsible, respectable manner.

In other words… Guys, PLEASE, set aside your egos; resume performing from your covid bunkers with only the bare minimum, production crew contingent. If this is any help, try harboring in your heads, hearts and souls the sentitments popularized by singer Vera Lynn; the lyrics which solemnly vow…

“We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day”

Song Composers Ross Parker and Hughie Charles • Complete Lyrics [HERE]
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Granted, my authoring a 700 word count blog, devoted to TV talk show hosts, may, superficially, seem silly. However, one cannot understate the beneficial impact this quintet (in particular Colbert, Meyers and Kimmel) has been making upon the national political discourse; how their speaking truth to power via “jokes”, serves a far more significant purpose.

Such courageous comedians are heightening the awareness / enlightenment of their Stateside audiences; the very people who, don’t normally pay close attention to the ever-present dangers; the grave threats to liberty and democracy; such as those posed by the STILL unpunished, insurrectionist and fascist X-Prez Trump and his entire freak show entourage.

Long pensive sigh… I now conclude this post, just as I’ve done for the past two+ years…

Now More Than Ever… PLEASEEVERYBODY

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
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A++ i tudes ~ Fortune Cookie Blog

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When conscientious leaders have earned a wide latitude and lofty altitude;
all amidst the atmosphere of quietude & solitude, the situation’s magnitude
is highly conducive to converting aptitude, attitude, solicitude and fortitude
into dedicated problem solving; resulting in a society resembling beatitude;
thereby motivating the led citizenry to express their undying gratitude. too!

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“We Meet Again” (Part 2)

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Compelling how that headline’s quotation marks can express such contrasting sentiments. When specifically connected with this post’s Part 1, it involves words I don’t really mean; i.e., signifies my shunning days of yore, superficial, dreary students. Yet, when associated with Part 2, it refers to an actual quotation; words which showcase a long ago, meaningful, far too fleeting friendship with a delightful classmate (more about her in a moment).

BTW, if you happened to miss Part 1, my following catch-up synopsis should prove adequate.

Of late, I’ve been flouting bygone, classmate acquaintances’ persistent messages (logged on my landline answering machine / lodged within my snail mailbox); thwarting their attempts to invite me to OUR… correction… THEIR 50th Class Reunion. Here’s why…

  • From the 4th grade, onward, bullies had rendered me a social pariah
  • As such, I have absolutely boycotted all of THEIR previous reunions
  • Past reunion organizers could not track down THEIR other outcasts
  • If “lepers”, such as I, aren’t gonna to show up, why bother attending?

Even so… truth be told… I certainly would love a second chance at transforming that above mentioned fleeting friendship into something more forever. Alas… long sigh… No Way On Earth could that ever, possibly happen.

You see, a delightful young Miss had officially joined the Class of ’72 at September’s outset of the 2nd Grade. Assigned to the desk directly in front of mine, on that Day-1, she spun around to introduce herself. Tho she had certainly needed no assist from beauty, Debbie’s charming presence did get further enhanced by her shoulder length wavy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and beguiling smile.

And that was just for starters. From each school day, onward, she’d turn to face me, remind me, “We meet again.” Wow, what an original expression from someone so young!

Regrettably, that was not for long. Debbie was destined to complete her formal education ten years too early; “graduate” in a most unexpected, unconventional manner when her oncologist meted out his death sentence diagnosis.

Sadly, in that bygone era, schools didn’t, yet, have grief counselors in their employ; delegating such a duty to our teacher, Mrs. M. Her sixty seconds, tops, somber announcement was all we could rely on to console us.

The problem with such a scenario… developmentally speaking, seven and eight-year-olds have yet to fully grasp the finality of death. Personally, up to that very moment, my only previous experience was as an even less aware six-year-old; my ambivalence to my maternal grandmother’s passing on, due, mainly, to the multiple hundreds of miles between Minnesota and Michigan; the expense of travel keeping us apart (my school teacher father was working for peanuts).

Returning now to the life that Debbie might have had… to this day, I cannot help but wonder. Had she remained healthy, been allowed a full lifespan, what might our friendship have become? Considering how well we had gotten along, might the phrase childhood sweethearts have been appropriate?

Returning now to the life that Debbie had been denied… due to the custodian’s next day, get ‘er done efficiency, my classroom’s far left column, where I was situated, was now shortened by one desk; that omission advancing me forward. Somehow, none of this seemed right. In essence, I was now seated at Debbie’s desk; and even worse, would never, again, ear witness her cheerful greeting… unless…

Theologians’ claims of an afterlife do prove true. If so, once my final day on Earth arrives, perhaps I will finally be granted my second chance at transforming a fleeting friendship into something more FOREVER?

I do intend to train my ears… correction… fine tune Eternity’s equivalent telepathy, which will permit me to discern Debbie’s in good spirits, three welcoming words…

“We meet again!”

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
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“We Meet Again” (Part 1)

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Ever since late last December, an ex-classmate has been doing her damnedest to call attention to our… correction… THEIR… 50th class reunion; has been overburdening my landline’s aged answering machine; of late, has also been farming out this onerous (odious) task to a confederate, who is now snailing me similarly themed, junk mail appeals. All to NO avail. So, why my disinterest?

Stated diplomatically… not everyone has fuzzy fond memories of their K thru 12 experience.

Stated exhaustively… from 4th thru 8th grade, inclusive, that bygone student body’s bully faction had rendered my life utterly miserable; my avoidance of their verbal abuse and physical assaults depending upon how well I could “sell”, to my folks, my allergy related raspy voice, runny stuffed up nose, sneezing and asthmatic wheezing as an affliction of a more serious nature; my ability to parlay such cold / flu / pneumonia like symptoms into the perfect excuse to cut classes.

And, typically, my Academy Award worthy performance art would prevail; provided my folks didn’t whip out a thermometer.

Had both of them not been college degreed educators; fully capable of home schooling me (dad’s disciplines the Sciences and Math; mom’s expertise English, Lit and History), I could’ve easily wound up falling behind, flunking (perhaps even dropping) out.

Eventually and inevitably… my father had eye-witnessed, from afar, these bullies physically attacking his son; resulting in his outrage fueled letter; next-day delived, by me, to my school’s secretary.

However, rather than the principal extending me a helping hand, he publicly humiliated me. While angrily wagging his finger in my face, he vociferously accused me of being a liar; the venue for his fury fueled tirade being my school’s lunchroom; eye-witnessed by multiple hundreds of my stunned into a dead silence classmates; among them, the very bastards who were bullying me.

Returning to the here and now… that these people would even try to reconnect, I view akin to a testimonial; either to their forgetfulness or, far worse yet, a further demonstration of their thoughtlessness.

Let’s keep this all real… I’ve never attended any of our… correction… THEIR earlier reunions. Even chance encounters (grocery store, auto service waiting room and at my former workplaces) have been limited; our (lack of) quality time, grand total, amounting to approximately fifty minutes, tops. That’s 50 minutes out of the past 50 years; which begs the key “Q”…

Having not missed me for a freakin’ half century, why start now?

Beyond that… quite telltale is how, prior to past reunions, the organizers’ missives have included entreaties for locating hard to track down classmates; that roster, invariably, naming the very people I’d want to reconnect with. Hey, if they’re not gonna show up, why the hell would I?

Truth be told… there is one former classmate, in particular, who I really do miss; would love to see once more. Alas… long sigh… that’d be impossible. I’ll relate more about her once…

“We Meet Again” (Part 2) merges with the www within the next seven days…

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Anyone up for a roll call?

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Having opted to receive notifications to keep me au courant with the posting times of all the super, superbly talented WP neighbors who I follow, there’s an understandable unnerving feeling that descends whenever my email inbox remains empty. Such a feeling IS reasonable considering how someone should be wide awake somewhere within our multi time zoned world. My concern…

What if one or more of the following crises, which are confronting our global community is / are actively curtailing WP activities?

  • Vladimir Putin’s impending nuclear meltdown
  • Fascism fueled insurrection(s) (stateside/globally)
  • Coronavirus & the Variants’ (to die for) world tour
  • Justifiable unrest re socioeconomic disparity
  • Climate change fueled deadly/destructive force(s)

In other words, if you’re reading these words, how about clicking a LIKE?

  • DON’T consider this my pathetic attempt to get attention
  • DO deem this, at least for the moment, a reassuring roll call!

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