Is the Tyrant-o-saurus Rex Still on a Rampage?

Journalist and Radio Personality Joshua Johnson hosts the vital to democracy and liberty program, 1A, which is produced by WAMU and distributed by NPR throughout my homeland (as well as being www accessible). BTW, his show’s name refers to the U.S. Constitution’s 1st Amendment, which among other important items… stands for…

“…freedom of speech… the press and the right of the people [to] peaceably assemble and… petition the Government for a redress of [their] grievances.”

Earlier today, Johnson’s program diverted from his typical political fare by featuring an interview with paleobotanist and geologist Kirk Johnson… who’s also the director of The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. FYI, past 1A programs are oft accessible from Joshua’s website menu. However, as of my posting time, today’s discussion was not yet available. Maybe later today?

Anyway, I found their dialogue about Tyrannosaurus Rex quite fascinating. Consider how the T-Rex… sans the services of any big name PR firms, Hollywood Agents and Fox “News” has still managed to establish his big… and I mean YUGE… name and maintain an intergenerational, international fan base… one which, apparently, has not waned one iota over the course of the past 68 Million years!

Doncha agree that this is quite “The Feat”… seeing how back in the day… uh… really, Really, REALLY back in the day… this once-upon-a-time feared and now extinct (?) dinosaur, had boasted anatomical marvels… e.g., two, way too tiny hands, which were stunningly disproportionate to his way too big head and gargantuan body and YET also managed to be on par with his puny reptilian brain. Additionally, this beastly creature was notorious for constantly going on continental rampages to [1] vent his insane, insatiable rage, [2] overplay his Rex / Kingly status and [3] enforce his reputation as a beyond redemption badass… the enemy of all the other, more decent creatures (great and small) of that (or any other) epoch.

Hmm… methinks this loathsome beast… far worse than the Loch Ness Monster… may not have gone totally extinct, after all!

Has not Tyrant-o-saurus Rex been frequently spotted in the vicinity of DC’s deep, dank, murky, fetid swamp waters flowing adjacent to and even flooding the cellar of a painted white house at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?

Perhaps the Johnson and Johnson team… both radioman Joshua and scientist Kirk… need to dig deeper into this matter?

 

 

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One Civilian’s Salute To WW-II / D-Day Heroes

 

On this June 6th day… D-Day’s 75th anniversary… this civilian salutes WW-II’s heroic troops, who so decisively defeated the Nazis / Axis powers. The selflessness and sense of duty of the American / Allied forces secured globe spanning liberty for the past three score and fifteen years… and still counting.

These WW-II vets were honored earlier, today, in Normandy, France, and I cannot help but wonder how The Greatest Generation would weigh in re this day’s main speechifier Donald J. Trump? Would they rate his delivery style somber sincerity or berate him for merely deadpanning over-rehearsed lines?

I’d gravitate towards the latter, due to some self-evident truths which tend to hollow out nearly everything he’s ever said (and will ever say).

For starters… Trump owes his very rise to power to the political and economic support of White Nationalists. And little doubt, he’ll be counting on additional Nazi / Klansmen bucks and votes in order to snag himself a second term.

BTW, such hobnobbing might be acceptable were it some sort of top secret, clever ploy designed to slowly but surely reprogram / humanize them. But… truth be told… a reverse programming is the more likely eventuality… i.e., White Nationalists will cough up so much loot into Trump’s coffers, they’ll totally own him. Under such circumstances, how can they not further dehumanize him?

Beyond that… let’s rundown the following 13 key points… a reblogged, slightly revised / renumbered portion from my Memorial Day 2019 post. Hey… since it wound up mostly unread… it’ll likely be all new to you! Indeed, Trump’s inconsistent to freedom words and deeds abound. He routinely…

[1] flips off Constitutionally stipulated congressional / judicial oversight / stacks the judicial deck
[2] stifles free speech / brands journalism fake news and journalists “enemies of the people”
[3] insulates himself with Orwellian sycophants who vomit forth putrid, “alternate facts”
[4] bosses around We The People who, in reality, are his bosses
[5] demands mindless acceptance of his wretchedly unacceptable, patently offensive, avarice driven agenda
[6] alienates / pisses off longstanding, honorable allies until they all despise him / the U.S.
[7] tears up mutually beneficial international treaties so no one will ever come to our aid again
[8] meets secretly with / sucks up to sworn enemies who deem him a patsy, not a pal
[9] welcomes / encourages foreign meddling into our free elections
[10] makes war criminals his war heroes
[11] conflates patriotism with blind loyalty, as in, exclusively to him
[12] wrests infants / children from their asylum seeking parents’ embraces and interns all in concentration camps
[13] deems Nazis and Klansmen “fine people”

Now, I ask… don’t those above Trumpian excesses remind you of Nazi Germany’s? The clear and present danger, here, is how, left unchecked… well… let’s not “go there” just yet.

 

 

 

“Sell” the “Cl” and “Buy” an “F” (1 Quick Limerick #083)

 

For those so inclined… today’s poetry requires some active reader participation… 18+ only please. To max out your reading enjoyment, read… word for word… and then follow… to the letter… this blog’s above-headlined Line 4 / Word 4 Instructions.

 

Trump and his boneheaded, bigoted base,
Plot to reboot Adolf’s Aryan race,
They hanker for “Mein Kamph”, redux,
Amerika Axis! (Dumb Clucks!)
Fighting FOR fascism¹ is a disgrace!

 

 

¹ WTF gives anyway? From time immemorial, our fearless ancestors have fought and even bled to death to gain and maintain freedom… each earning the fitting title of Freedom Fighter.

Not even in our worst nightmares could we have ever foreseen the day where once upon a time decent folks are getting suckered into becoming Fascist Fighters… on behalf of some flimflamming, glad-handing, greed driven, bastard, a-hole, autocratic leader, who’ll sell the soul of humanity… bleed humanity dry… even destroy an entire ecosystem… just to get the trains to run on time.

The easily duped can count on having little to nothing to show for their misguided, blind loyalty… other than a dead-end, benefits barren, non-living wage, here today / gone tomorrow, part time, clock punching job. A lousy trade off considering how they’ll be selling their very souls to the bosses from hell… typically the tyrannical, maniacal, sadistic slave-drivers, who’ll get off on watching their workers suffer hourly and drop dead prematurely.

 

 

 

 

 

D-Student Don D-Caps D-Day ~ 1 Quick Limerick #082

 

The lowdown on D-student Trump, Donald J:
NO bookworm, NO history buff; safe to say,
In his big head; witted, dim,
June Sixth is ALL about HIM,
Just because D-caps begin Don and D-Day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Flag Hugger/Waver Who Embraces UnWavering Vice

PREFACE: That blog topper video features the Trumpster desecrating both the American flag and the Rolling Stones’ track, You Can’t Always Get What You Want. May those Mick Jagger / Keith Richard lyrics prove prophetic… namely… that [1] the fake prez can’t get the overthrow of America… slash… second term… that he wants / lusts after AND [2] come Inauguration Day 2021… true blue American patriots will get the real, honorable presidential successor we so desperately need.

Progressing onward, now, to the remainder of this short read…

 

My schoolteacher parents raised me well. One of their priceless life lessons also serves as a red alert to our global society…

Be wary of superpatriots… especially those who either lust after or actually wield power. Typically, such “flag wavers” and “flag huggers” have EVERYTHING BUT society’s well-being in mind.

Hmm… sound like anyone we know?

You do have my pity if vile / evil leadership is sucking the lifeblood / oxygen from your homeland.

In theory… glorious governance basks and thrives in oversight’s sunlight… its people and book smart, ethical leaders embracing all liberating knowledge and even-handed, equality-minded, forward thinking laws… a truly representative democracy where leaders and leaded… alike… secure cherished freedom, peace and prosperity for themselves / posterity.

In practice… far too frequently… grotesque governance stagnates and suffocates society in sewage and its accompanying pervasive stench. Its ignorant and ignoble, conniving, cowardly, shallow, stick-figure dictators reveling within their pathetic, shadowy, dank, little worlds while [1] hammering in odious, backward laws that shall forever enslave the oppressed, downtrodden masses, [2] fomenting class wars and racial / religious unrest and [3] provoking genocidal, bloodstained,  mushroom clouded, no-win wars / holocausts. And to what end?  Just so these autocratic anuses can snag themselves a nasty dynasty and a fleeting footnote in the annals of history?

To discover what happens next, one need only re-read the previous paragraph… uh… regrettably… endlessly.

• Must what happens next always wind up a vicious cycle?

• Why is it so much easier to destroy than create… for civilization to self-destruct than survive?

 

 

 

 

White House Whitewash ~ 1 Quick Limerick #081

 

He who shouts loudest is right? No mistaking,
Smacks of fake bellowing and bellyaching,
Don’s White House “give ‘em hell” yelling,
Whitewashes whoppers he’s telling,
An unpresidential, unwise undertaking!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Adventures of Harrison and Human (Chapter-1)

 

I could’ve sworn someone had just spoken to me in a near whisper…

“Pssst… hey human!”

Perhaps this was a mere figment of my imagination? Oh… say… my erroneously assigning human syntax and phonics to what was… in actuality… a mere, momentary wind gust rustling a nearby lilac thicket’s leaves? Well… I had no sooner summarily dismissed this as such a phenomenon than the unseen speaker spoke again… this time with added conviction and decibels…

“Hey! Over here!”

My ears now properly attuned, they advised a 180 spin. Pivoting on my heels… lo and behold… there he was! And most assuredly, this was no ordinary, up-at-the-crack-of-dawn passerby… no jogger or nature walker was he.

Indeed, amidst the stray sunbeam lit, verdant field of clover, sat an up on his haunches, uncharacteristically unskittish rabbit… sporting a dapper, multiple gradations of brown, furry coat and tails. Uh… correction… let’s make those “tails” one, fluffy, grayish-white cottontail.

Even though I could not immediately reconcile the contradictory aural / visual sensory input, at hand… there could be no denying his presence. But a talking rabbit? NO… I would not… could not… “go there!”

Was I actually starting to sense his amusement, too? I could not be certain. What was for fur sure? Being at a distinct psychological disadvantage.

Transfixed and momentarily speechless were we… he… casually chewing on the clover leaves within his twitching whiskered mouth… I… desperately ISO any signs of the human responsible for those uttered, two, brief sentences. But, with no such person in the vicinity, I began wondering if straitjackets are custom tailored or only a one size fits all / off the rack prospect.  Just when I thought my jaw could not drop any further… said he… omg… SAID HE?

“Yes… it really IS just you and me.”

Was his accompanying chortled chorus to mock or reassure me?

I could only hunker down with my mind’s “this cannot possibly be happening” utter disbelief. My mind? What mind?

There just had to be some logical explanation! At stake, was my very WordPress screen-name, CommonSenseTom… which I realized could soon be rendered nonsensical. It was then that… not unlike a TM mantra… I began recursively reminding myself…

“Rabbits cannot talk! Rabbits cannot talk! Rabbits cannot talk!”

“Oh yes we can! Yes we can! Yes we can!”

… Mr. Rabbit’s reply clearly establishing that I had either, actually, vocalized my thoughts or he was a mind-reader, too. Quick as a bunny he added in a big voice inconsistent to his small, short stature… and with a New England accent, to boot…

“So sorry to get your wind up. Pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Human. Allow me to introduce myself. Dr. Harrison Hare D-I-X. But do call me Harry… that sounds far less stuffy.”

“D-I-X? DIX as in Roman numerals? As in Harrison the 509th?”

“Hey… don’t look so shocked. A rabbit’s prolific nature is a fact of life… not some credulity contorting Urban Legend!”

Still doubting my sanity, while nonchalantly, softly humming the Jefferson Airplane’s classic rock tune, White Rabbit, I made a full 360 scan of the vicinity… this time ISO some cleverly hidden TV cameras. I was now actually entertaining the notion that I was EITHER getting punk’d OR some new network reality show had hired a dude to throw his voice rabbit-ward. Sensing that awkward silences could easily render the recorded “footage” unfit for cable, streaming, the airwaves, etc… that I could easily blow any chances for my big break into TV land fame and fortune… I decided to play along…

“Hey, Harry, has anybody ever told you your voice sounds just like John F. Kennedy’s?”

“No… but then again… I don’t normally talk with all that many humans. And speaking of talking… to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting on this balmy, late spring morn?”

“The name is Thomas BlogDonovich… no Roman numerals needed… and btw… Tom will suffice. I guess I’m glad to meet you, too.”

“Still unsure I’m really talking to you, huh?”

“Sure am… in fact your chosen word… balmy… likely better describes my mental state… uh… than this morn’s weather. I mean… a talking rabbit?”

“Not just A rabbit, friend Tom… ALL rabbits can talk!”

“So this is really happening and I’m not really losing it?”

“Tom… I assure you… this IS really happening! You must believe me, OK?

“I’m trying. I’m trying. But why… pray tell… have you chosen this particular time to break the ice? After all, we’ve been neighbors for nearly two decades.”

“The answer to your question IS you. You see, ever since late January`17 me and the Missus have found it damned near impossible to not overhear you constantly yelling back at your radio during NPR’s Morning Edition and All Things Considered newscasts… namely… your name-calling and cussing… your calling out the deplorable words and deeds of THAT pathetic narcissistic horse’s ass.”

“Do you find that even remotely shocking?”

“No! Not at at all. It’s just that your excessively dwelling on that contemptible, corrupt creep is not healthy, my man. If you’d like, I do have my PhD in Psychology and am willing to talk you through these tough times… pro bono… you know… the same way liberal talk jockey Randi Rhodes counseled you, way back in 2004… the day after W got reelected.”

“You actually recall my long ago on air, nationwide conversation with Ms. Rhodes?”

“Sure do. And I really do want to help you.”

“But, not paying you just wouldn’t feel right.”

“Friend Tom, you haven’t been charging me… not even one penny… for the nearly 20 years my family and I have been grazing in your clover patch, either.”

“Touché… friend Harry… touché!”

Coming down from my momentary reverie about Ms. Rhodes… as well as still attempting to wrap my mind around this talking rabbit scenario did take a moment or two. And Harry did use that temporal opportunity to full advantage by chowing down another couple of mouthfuls of clover. Due to his nearly impeccable table manners he didn’t speak again until after his gulp and loud belch. Remember (ha ha) I did say, “nearly impeccable.”

“While rabbitkind is genuinely interested in your well-being, we must also keep our own best interests in mind. And, uppermost on the minds of every creature… great and small… is global environmental distress. It all boils down to this, Tom. Your survival in this hood IS our survival. Were you to ever leave us… perhaps even head for the hills ISO some hippie dippy commune… that’d mean a new property owner, here. And what would be the odds that he wouldn’t be a grass farmer who’s been brainwashed by the toxic chemicals spewing, lawn care industry?”

“And not even growing the type of grass he could harvest and hawk for profit.”

“Precisely!”

We both momentarily chuckled while slowly, horizontally swaying our heads in disbelief.

“Tom, the entire rabbit community deems your clover field a culinary sweet treat and rates your backyard a five star eatery. We would never, ever want some lawn farmer to poison it with weed killer.”

“The good news, Harry… I plan on staying put, right here, till fiscal / physical death do us part… whichever happens first. The bad news, naturally, is how our neighbors’ toxic “cocktails” of fertilizers / insecticides / herbicides / homicides respect neither my property lines nor anyone else’s. Worse yet, when they (ab)use products such as Roundup™ they may even be condemning both themselves and innocent bystanders to premature Cancerous DEATHS!

“Why oh why must so damned many humans be ISO the psychotically perfect, grass blades only lawn? And do take my word for it… such grass only biomes taste bad even before the nasty lawn chemical “salad dressing” gets poured on.”

“I know exactly what you’re talking about, too. Not too long ago, I purchased some broccoli, which tasted the way nasty lawn chemicals stink. With my first bite, I nearly puked.”

“TMI Tom… TMI!”

Just as another momentary wind gust rustles the nearby, lilac’s leaves, Harry looks at his tiny cell phone screen and exclaims…

‘To quote Alice’s white rabbit, ‘Oh my dear paws! Oh my fur and whiskers! I’m late!’ I gotta hurry home.”

“Me too. And albeit way too belated, I now officially and warmly welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Thank you. Are you now a bit more convinced that we can really converse?”

“Well… friend Harry… it’s not my talking to you that’s unbelievable, it’s your talking to me. I mean… this REALLY DID happen, right?”

“Yes… friend Tom… this REALLY DID happen.”

 

 

To be continued…