Biden’s UnInauguration Day Nears?

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Of late, the political pundits have been obsessing over Donald J. Trump’s contention that, somehow, some way, he’s to be reinstated / reinstalled within the Oval Office come August 2021.

Seeing how the language of the U.S. Constitution (Article II, Section 1, Clause 6 plus the 12th, 20th and 25th Amendments), provides absolutely no mechanisms for such an eventuality, just how, pray tell, would that ever become a done deal?

Well, for starters, we’d need to totally abandon the realm of reality. And, once ensconced within FantasyLand, that’s where all it would take is one swing of “the magical golf club” for an UnConstitutional mulligan to go down. Let’s envision how that might all play out on our devices’ screens.

First, we’d become eyewitness to Donny, the duly deposed despot, lumbering up to the White House (with his entire freakshow entourage of ex-cabinet member ass kissers / wipers in tow). Upon casually ding donging the doorbell, next, we’d find the legitimate President, Joe Biden, gingerly creaking open the door; to be instantaneously confronted by loony-tunes Trump delivering his insane ultimatum. Let’s eavesdrop on the following brief, heated exchange; oh, say, something along these lines…

Freak Trump: You’ve got 10 minutes to get the F out, OR ELSE!
President Biden: F off you Fascist Freak!*

*Freak enunciated in a multi-syllabic, contemptuous manner.

Assuming that, not unlike the unwelcome, unscrupulous door-to-door salesman, Donny has managed to wedge in his hobnail boot; you know, to prevent the door from closing completely…

Would Biden next get “invited” to his own UnInauguration Day? Would U.S. Chief Justice John Roberts suddenly materialize, POOF, out of thin air to administer the UnOath of UnOffice; oh, say, all impeccably delivered in Pig Latin? Would the U.S. Marine Band play their rendition of Hail to the UnChief; i.e., read their sheet music backwards to perform this ditty from finish to start?

Even were Joe able to totally slam the door in that insurrectionist bastard’s face, would General Nuisance Trump next bark out his marching orders to enrage / engage his private army; perhaps to the point where they’d burn down the White House? I mean, Donny wouldn’t be worried in the least. No sooner would all that billowing, ground zero smoke clear than, yet, another butt ugly Trump Tower (built at taxpayer expense?), would rise, lickety-split, from those horrifying, revolting ashes.

Alas (long sigh), it’d appear that the mechanism for fraudulent Trump’s (looming?) reinstatement is to involve his subversive plot; one akin to ideological diarrhea. This could be aptly branded: Insurrection Day No. 2. And, as is true with the hue of most No. 2, Trump’s and his MAGA morons’ fecal matter could be repurposed to paint the town brown; and from there, they’d trot out their shitty plot nationwide.

To state it vulgarly is not hyperbole. I needn’t remind that, back on January 6th of this year, some of Trump’s insurrectionists did stoop so low as to intentionally track their own fecal matter throughout the U.S. Capitol.

And, upon factoring in how D.J.T. has, to the best of our knowledge, never been punished for any of his crimes, we can expect him to keep on relentlessly attacking America; as will the legions of his freakshow sycophants; of whom he can always depend on to do his dirty work.

For the sake of America’s survival, we can only hope that President Biden has formulated what, in essence, is his Kaopectate® Plan; one that’ll KO / totally wipe out Donald J. Trump’s (impending?) Insurrection Day No. 2.

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Fortune Cookie Blog (frankness)

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“Don’t change horses in midstream!” is a political maxim / mantra that doth
not even begin to fully characterize the 2024 strategy of the (Un)American
Republican Party / Freak Show; hijacked by insurrectionist Donald J. Trump.
Stated far more frankly it’d read: “Don’t change horse’s asses in midstream.”

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A World of Diff ‘tween “The” & “A”!

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After spending 460 days doing his talk show in locked down, pandemic necessitated isolation, Stephen Colbert made his grand re-entrance to NYC’s Ed Sullivan Theatre, last night, to perform before a live and in-person, full audience; all in attendance enjoying (relative) safety; thanks to everybody being fully vaxxed.

To have been an eyewitness to such a momentous occasion certainly did prove there’s a world of diff ‘tween “The” Late Show” and “A” Late Show (the latter rebranding had served as the subtle reminder that not all was (is) well in our homeland / home world).

Such a viewing experience (even from my own living room) proved the much needed mood elevator. So much so, I even managed to beat Mr. Colbert to the punch (punchline) of one of his jokes; namely this news clip enhanced wisecrack…

S.C.: President Biden’s trip abroad will end with his much anticipated showdown, on Wednesday, with Russian President (and cover model for Maritime Murders Monthly) Vladimir Putin. This meeting could be awkward ‘cause earlier this year Biden called Putin a ‘killer’. This weekend Putin was asked about his homicidal tendencies [clip rolls]…

Interviewer: Mr. President, are you a killer?
Putin: (chuckling menacingly) Over my tenure, I’ve gotten used to attacks from all kinds of angles; and from all kinds of areas; under all kinds of pretexts and reasons; at a different caliber and fierceness; and none of it surprises me.

S.C. Punchline: Sooooo… uh… that’s a yes?

CBS Late Show • June 14, 2021

While both predictable Putin and his non-surprising, non-response (tossed word salad) proved a certifiable downer, to have been reminded that I can still think in a humorous vein also did me a world of good.

Analog recording Colbert’s first night back on Broadway, had been well worth the twenty minutes spent [1] hunting down an old (suitable for tape-over) VHS cassette and [2] another five minutes taken to reconfigure the wiring of the hodgepodge of my aged and ailing video gear.

While I’m certain that for Colbert / his entire staff, their reclamation of their Late Show studio / stage has been reward enough, I don’t believe that goes far enough.

Seeing how each and every one of these role models / morale boosters have so valiantly soldiered on throughout the pandemic, at the very least, President Biden should pin medals on these civilians’ uniforms.

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Pols, Pals & Foes

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Let’s pick up the pieces; when humdrum Pols take tame stand
And stick to pedestrian speeches; bond to strike up lame band
Once slick admen join them; Pols and Pals both play game bland
They trick to paint tainted world; sell us a spiffed, spoofed name brand

Their nice ads roll ‘round the clock; spread thru the airwaves and stream
“Roll up your sleeves!” they beseech, “Please join vaxxed people’s team!”
While vaccine science, trustworthy, rolls out the Game-Changer scheme
“Jabs” can’t knock out / cure social ills; not at such nauseous extreme

Bottled up in ads’ ointment, the flies team / teem; galore
Trump troglodytes engage erudites; THAT no-win, endless war
Normal notions stump Trump; also his dumbbell / oddball corps
Freedom? Justice? Just buzzwords; they all buzz off / abhor

In most known negative “isms”; Trumpers sprawl, wallow, bask
To learn from pandemics’ hard knocks? They’re not up to that “task”
They won’t even thwart Covid; by simply donning a mask
Are they beyond all redemption? Need anyone ask?

Deep down in the deep end, of the primordial pool
Trumpers get off on their guns; nuff to make them all drool,
Some strafe houses of worship, the workplace, the school
Others are BLAM-BLAM bad cops, who flip off BLM’s rule

Trumpian race and class warfare, proves chronic infection
Dots Pandemic? Dots Climatic? Simps can’t make the connection
Freakin’ fools who can’t fathom the Free Fair election
These days, go on a rampage; foment insurrection

Epilogue:

Granted, verses, above, tell the heart-rending tale
Of my homeland’s decline; beyond the pale / stale
Might “where there’s life there’s hope” wisdom, somehow, prevail?
Well, our Stars and Stripes still fly; Trump’s insurrection did fail!

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A Non-Flesh ’n’ Blood Kindred Spirit

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One scant week ago, a much too long absent, non-flesh and blood kindred spirit arrived at my front door to resume our regular visits. At first glance, a double take was in order; mainly because I hadn’t seen this otherworldly friend since the pandemic had shuttered our world; well over a year ago.

Suddenly, upon factoring in my (typically) restless / sleepless condition, I had to wonder if I had nodded off? Wandered off into Dreamland? Or, was something else playing out; oh, say, along the lines of a supernatural themed TV series-come-true? Might I be blasting off from Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone launch pad?

However (brushing all reader attention grabbing hyperbole aside), as everything actually turned out, ‘twas not unnerving in the least. Quite the contrary!

What we’re actually discussing is my unexpected reconnection to a newsprint and ink publication; namely, a weekly newspaper (featuring state and local goings-on, human interest stories, recipes, op-eds and obits; not to mention the brain challenging Sudoku and crossword puzzles. All in all, food for thought!

Now, I do know (long sigh) that newspapers don’t mean all that much to the general public anymore; especially folks who’ve never known anything other than our (regrettably) Internet dominated and dependent world.

And usage of “regrettably” is not an exaggeration; especially considering how easily we could all become disconnected; be that issue related to tech gremlins / www dead zones, consumer cost-cutting or something far, Far, FAR more wicked and UNNERVING!

With regards to that last listed item, at present, we’re discovering too damned many nations on the brink of ideological collapse; inclusive of the United States (in spite of President Joe Biden’s efforts to thwart his immediate predecessor’s ongoing treachery). Problem is that fascistic leaders are far, Far, FAR too proficient at manipulating the misguided masses into committing what is tantamount to ritualistic, socioeconomic suicide.

Freedom does die wherever / whenever the cultish rabble get fired up by (smarmily) charismatic firebrands; otherwise known as a-hole autocrats to us wise, reality based, critical thinkers.

To take a brief spin thru that rogues gallery let’s “try on for size” the ideologically and psychotically supersized Vladimir Putin (Russia), Xi Jinping (China), Kim Jong Un (North Korea), Abdel-Fattah el-Sissi (Egypt), Recep Tayyip Erdogan (Turkey), Rodrigo Duterte (Philippines) and, saving the worst for last, the duly deposed in 2020 (and presumed 2024 chomping at the bit wannable Donald J. Trump.

Uh, on second thought (re that try on session), let’s not.

More to the point, ever since tyrannical Trump made “FAKE NEWS” his catchphrase that pays / got that reverberating in the echo chamber, brain-dead heads-of-state, worldwide, have been overusing and abusing such vernacular, ofttimes verbatim, whenever genuine article journalists spot on expose them as societal parasites.

Even more to the point, most autocrats keep their grubby little paws poised over the Internet Kill Switch. After all, in the end (THE END) when it comes down to trampling human rights, their first order of biz is to sever all lines of communication, especially online reportage. It’d not be hyperbolic to say that, in the wrong hands, such a “circuit breaker” could eventually unravel the Internet and kill the truth.

My above concerns are the very reasons why I deem all reputable, hard copy newspapers akin to:

A Non-Flesh ’n’ Blood Kindred Spirit of mine; hopefully yours too.

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To whom this MUST concern:

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Preface: Prior to 2021, I had taken for granted that, in spite of the irreconcilable, ideological feud, no U.S. citizen would ever be spiteful enough to harm America. Then came January 6th, when Donald J. Trump, the (in title only) President of the United States of America, rallied, weaponized and repurposed his followers; enraged them enough to attack the United States of America; all on his behalf; all based upon his delusions that voter fraud had cost him reelection. Seeing how, to date, too damned many of his co-conspirators do double duty as sitting federal level Senators, Representatives and Judges; that no arrest warrants for DJT have been forthcoming; how, as such, he remains unpunished / at large, his followup attack still looms. Hence, the impossible to dismiss missive, below…

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To whom this MUST concern:

As of this day, 2021/06/02, this open missive gets www posted; on behalf of ALL oppressed masses, world-over. Seeing how it’s been said, “Nothing ever dies on the Internet”, even were your hands dripping with all 4.7 liters / 10 pints of our lifeblood, our truths WILL outlive tin gods, such as you; indeed, long after you’ve become unbecoming footnotes inked onto the moldering papyrus of our History books.

Purpose:

To address and edify each and every brownshirt who dares to goosestep in ugly, gargantuan sized jackboots.

To flesh that out:

• We are pointing our collective finger of blame (both hoisted middle fingers, too) and thumbing our unified nose at each and every reprehensible, reptilian authoritarian, who dares to author and/or enforce draconian decrees.

• Ditto those digital gestures re the above-mentioned addressees’ bankrollers and bootlickers.

• Ditto those digital gestures re all would-be power hungry Fascists / Nazis.

Our red flag magnitude reminder, too:

No matter how hard you may try, there is not a place on Earth (not even within the vast mulitverse’s most far-flung sectors), where you can completely hide from the truth, namely:

Your words can never “pretty up” your odious ideologies and the consequent heavy handed, human rights violating / gutting laws, which you lord over the masses. You and everything you stand for are akin to lumps of fetid, fecal matter. Oh, you can try to gift-wrap and affix shiny bows to your wretched régimes, but, your lumps of ideological dung have always been, still are, and shall forever be, lumps of dung. As such, incensed, critical thinking commoners shall NEVER, EVER, become noseblind to YOUR insufferable stench.

Signed,

CommonSenseTom and
All LikeMinded Souls WorldOver

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P.S. (addressed to the oppressed): Granted, the drunk on power will likely never read the above words. And even were they to happen onto them, comprehension would be way above the paygrade of such mindless, heartless and soulless, stick-figure tyrants. Nonetheless, it did feel good to get such sentiments off our collective chest, did it not? Transcending their doom and gloom is the glimmer of hope that, if not now, our exercise in free expression could even…

Well, seeing how my originally planned parting remark has been expressed far more eloquently, before, check out the following sentiment; one which, naturally, is fully applicable to missives, too:

“Books are like seeds. They can lie dormant for centuries and then flower in the most unpromising soil.”

[Read related quote HERE]

Carl Sagan “Cosmos”, p.281, (©1980) • Random House, Inc. New York

If you’d like to sign this open missive and/or immortalize your own views, along these lines, the comment section awaits…

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Is it even possible to blog onward?

With each passing moment, I’ve been finding it tougher and tougher to post; a phenomenon totally unrelated to the wordsmithing / site navigation combo, itself. In essence, I’ve been asking myself…

• Is it even possible to blog onward?

• How can anyone, especially an obscure WordPress contributor (specializing in sociopolitical commentary), ever expect to win any war of words when it’s all tantamount to engaging the unseen enemy within?

The enemy within? How so? Well, prior to January 6, 2021, few History buffs / Poli Sci mavens would’ve seriously considered the possibility that the longstanding United States of America would wind up under siege. After all, our very Constitution provides for peaceable redress re nearly every grievance; well, uh, that’s assuming we’re not speaking of mass insanity; e.g., where a head-of-state headcase, obviously devoid of reality-based gripe(s), eggs on savage throngs of his sycophantic DOMESTIC terrorists, who, in turn, on his behalf, go on a frenzied, murderous, burn down America rampage.

Nor could the aforementioned analysts have ever foreseen how the, as of yet unpunished, predominate perpetrator / traitor would (perhaps) spend the entirety of his remaining Earthly days out of reach of the long arm of the law.

To flesh that out even further, we’ll now be agonizing over an, as of yet, unbranded Corporate / CorpoRot venture. Let’s assign it the working title: Coup D’états R Us; its proprietor being…

Donald J. Trump, the absolutely abhorrent autocrat. In spite of that disgusting, would-be murderer of Democracy remaining in absentia, that Anti-American still poses an ever-present danger. After all, he’s still seething with narcissism driven outrage. As such, he’ll, forevermore, adamantly refuse to stand down, attempt to exact revenge against all who empowered Joe Biden and, if/when left unchecked, will see his grotesque regime change to fruition.

COUNT ON HIM ravaging the body of America like some ferocious, rabid, rancid, rampaging cancer that, left untreated, will ceaselessly mutate and metastasize until We, the 331 million People, wind up the lifeless aggregate corpse.

OR, were we to assign such a retrograde aftermath a 17th century spin, despotic DJT’s looming second rise to power would be akin to Count Dracula rising / crawling out from his coffin; slinking and skulking in dank darkness; roaming the face of the Earth from dusk to dawn; relentlessly sucking the life blood from the masses.

OR, were we to update that metaphoric, age-old folklore to the 21st century, viral Trump would eventually snuff out liberty, equality and justice; that all akin to the suffocation suffered by Covid-19’s victims. And, in this instance actuality, not analogy, would apply; seeing how DJT had had no small hand in the bungling of Pandemic Management 101; at each and every stage. To get into some well-deserved name-calling; let’s call / call out that sociopath: The Stateside Strangler.

Suffice to say, identifying the problem has been far easier than ever finding any straightforward solution(s); I believe most of us can dig that… uh… need I even blog onward?

OR, more to the point…

Is it even possible to blog onward?

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Blocked Heads

If you call home sweet home, an enlightened nation
Keep in mind, free elections might not lead to elation
Not when candidates’ heads conceal constipation
To empower such doody, will cause consternation

To vote wisely, is akin to high colonic’s irrigation
It’ll unblock the backups; break up, too, these words “ation”
To vote otherwise, elects heads; flush with fecal matter
If they prove too tuff to flush; they’ll never scram / scatter

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A Contract With America Mulligan?

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Back in the 1990s, my homeland’s ideologue Republicans, moonlighting / gaslighting as InFerior Decorators, had fabricated a window dressing political platform and promptly dubbed it The Contract With America.

Just how inFerior / rickety was it?

Well, to paraphrase journalist Major Garrett, it was all akin to opportunistic Republicans challenging the gullible American electorate to a few rounds of metaphorical miniature golf. And, it wasn’t long after this dim, diminutive platform collapsed than the easily duped discovered it had been little more a Republican diversionary tactic akin to a sand trap filled with quicksand; where liberty, truth, justice and ethics go to die.

In other words, average Janes and Joes failed to realize they had been buying into rightwing leadership that was (and forever shall be?) akin to the leader board glutted with the names of unprofessional golfers; tired white men playas, who could do little more than reduce America’s Links to a golf course that’s been utterly obliterated; wrecked beyond repair by Grand Canyon deep divots; with nary the possibility of an ideological mulligan / do-over. Hell, such Republicans rarely, if ever, can get ANYTHING right; not even after a second stroke; let alone the third, fourth, fifth… well… you get the idea.

Of late, unprofessional golfer and XXX prez Donald J. Trump has been toying with the notion of concocting his own Contract With America mulligan. Seeing how he doth not possess even the slightest inkling of a cogent, good intentioned thought, zero doubt, his new contract / plot has already been ghostwritten by a Republican flunky or two, or three, or four, or five… well… you get the idea.

Now, owing to Trump being a certifiable narcissist and would-be fascist / organized crime don / thug / hoodlum, were he able to muster a moment of truth in advertising, he might even manage to..

Rebrand that bygone Contract WITH America as
Don Trump / Corleone’s Contract ON America.

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Adam-12’s Finest v. Bedlam’s Worst

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Preface: Yeah… long sigh… I fully realize that TV Land and the Real World are two different creatures; that yearning for the merger of idealism and realism rarely, if ever, winds up as a wish come true. Still, we can hope for better days, can’t we?

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From September 21, 1968 until May 20, 1975, veteran policeman, Officer Pete Malloy (actor Martin Milner), and his rookie partner, Officer Jim Reed (actor Kent McCord), availed themselves of their professional training (backed up by their community building spirit and general street smarts), to conscientiously, honorably and courageously protect and serve the Los Angeles community. Typically, they were dispatched to respond to distressed citizens’ reports of violent crimes and frantic requests for help; arrived in a timely manner courtesy of their assigned patrol car, a.k.a. Adam-12; a.k.a. this TV cop drama series’ name.

Season 2 Episode 14 (titled Log 14 — S.W.A.T.) originally aired via the NBC TV network on January 24, 1970 / early evening; encored via the MeTV network on May 26, 2021 / late afternoon (just yesterday); where / when the following incident went down…

A sniper named Johnny Kursko (actor Thomas Bellin) is terrorizing a neighborhood in an urban section of the city. He is on top of a building that once housed a movie theater that the sniper worked at. It is later found out that he is an escaped fugitive from New York and he is shooting up the neighborhood as a way to get back at the people in the neighborhood who he holds responsible for the theater’s closing. Reed, Malloy and Detective Sgt. Gus Brown get into their SWAT gear and go after Kursko and try to get him without any further bloodshed. [read more here] [here too]

Brian Washington

And I’d add that Kursko is certifiably hardcore unglued; even wounding an elderly woman and attempting to kill an innocent child and his adorable pet dog. Additionally, my unsung hero award goes to Ron Thompson (actor Adam Wade) who not only risks his own life to rescue the wounded by Kursko motorcycle cop, Benson (actor Richard Geary), but also winds up providing the cops invaluable biographical info about a casual acquaintance of his, none other than sniper Kursko. Honorable mention award goes to Malloy who, to help defuse this tense altercation, pulls double duty in the role of the laid-back, layman shrink.

It’s during this episode’s closing scene that this viewer experienced his “Oh Wow” moment: mainly due to the fact that, few, if any of today’s militant cops (a.k.a. bedlam’s worst) would ever respond to the questions of the unnamed reporter (actor Morgan Jones) in this same manner. Check out the dialogue transcript, courtesy of MeTV, my aged VCR and taped over VHS cassette.

• Pardon me Officer, may I have your name please?
• Reed, Jim Reed.
• You’re the policeman who made the capture, aren’t you?
• Yes sir, I was one of them.
• Did he resist?
• Yeah, he resisted.
• He’s injured a number of people and killed at least one.
Personally, I think I’d have shot him.
• That’s not what I get paid for.
• You figure he’s sick? Is that why you let him live?
• No sir.
• You should’ve shot him and got it over with.
Why didn’t you? Give me one good reason.
• Because it wasn’t necessary.

Screenplay writers Robert A. Cinader / Jack Webb / Stephen Downing

BECAUSE IT WASN’T NECESSARY!

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