Clothes Make the (Everyday) Man

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• So, what could be more disappointing than the small town political scene?
• Why, that’d be the small town political scene during an off-year election.

I had grumbled that unfunny joke yesterday; just as I began unfolding my absentee ballot. Soon afterwards, a far more painstaking deconstruction ensued; based upon how this election cycle’s sole purpose is to let four candidates vie for three city council seats.

In other words, a contest that’s little more than a game of musical chairs.

Worse yet, the candidates’ political personae don’t generate genuine voter interest; considering how the three incumbents are akin to pterodactyl/albatross hybrids and the one political virgin is reminiscent of the just fallen from the nest, fledgling bluebird.

Worst of all, their “platforms”are not all that impressive, either. If any of them have discovered the path forward to a rational, knowledgeable, welcoming, inclusive, clean, green, fully functional, vibrant community, they’ve yet to speak, convincingly, about how, precisely, they’d lead us to such a wondrous renaissance.

Not boding well, too, is how our mayor and these very incumbents, invariably, have been rubber-stamping the anything for a buck agendas of developers hellbent on blighting our cityscape with row after row of butt ugly, boxy mansions that resemble a fleet of Star Trekian Borg Cubes. Resistance Is Futile? Hmm, it’d appear so.

Beyond that final frontier, it’d be tough to figure out which is more massive; their constructed houses or their conceited heads.

My community’s conspicuous lack of affordable housing and the legions of aristocratic, autocratic association prez wannabes loom; both eventualities promising a most unpromising future; one where the rich swoop down on gated communities and the poor get run out of town.

Needless to say, deciding just who the hell I’d be voting for proved quite the daunting task. Hell, I was even considering making a political statement by submitting a totally blank ballot or by not mailing it back to City Hall at all.

But then my heavy heart prevailed.

Seeing how, of late, nationwide, Republican governors and state legislators have been interweaving sore loser Donald J. Trump’s widespread voter fraud, BIG LIE into the fabric of slews of unconstitutional voter suppression statutes, it suddenly dawned on me that this very ballot could very well represent the very last free Election that I’d ever be participating in.

At that juncture, thru my tear blurred eye, I opted to reread an online, meet-the-candidate article; this time noticing something so subtle, that it had gone previously unnoticed.

Two of these three incumbents were dressed-to-the-nines in their finery and other one had been so cocky, he hadn’t even bothered submitting his mugshot at all. All of which had transformed candidate bluebird’s no necktie, open-collar work shirt, everyday man fashion statement into a political statement; one that, at the very least, suggests a glimmer of hope.

While voting on a hunch would, ordinarily, be unwise, seeing how, in victory, he’d be only one voice out of seven, about the only “damage” his being seated would accomplish is serve as a reminder to the incumbents; that they are not as invincible as they may think.

All the above considered, I decided to chance it; to vote for him and ONLY him.

After all, my two non-votes can only harm his opponents’ chances; especially if the eventual Election Night paper ballot count winds up paper thin close.

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1 VirtualChat > 1 ZillionFollowers

> = Greater Than

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• PC’s MSRP: $2000
• Monthly Internet Fee: $20
• Home prepped cereal/toast/jam/coffee: $2

• Social Network virtual breakfast time bonding chat with a
kindly, caring soul nearly half a world distant: PRICELESS!

• There are some things money cannot buy…
• For everything else there’s “Flying” with WordPress

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• Giving credit where credit is due: Today’s post is based upon
McCann-Erickson’s classy, creative advert campaign crafted to
add a decidedly human dimension to folks carrying MasterCard

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• Giga Thank-Yous to both Y and WP!

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Fortune Cookie Blog (Bossy Boss)

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While walking upon the career path of your life’s journey,
should you attain the high rank of leading authority, tread
lightly; lest the rank and file rank you a rank authoritarian.

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King Con: Quick Limerick #112

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King Con knows not, the diff ‘tween right and wrong
He reeks racism; seeks Fascism strong
He’s flabby and indolent
So crabby and insolent
He’d scare the crap out of his peer, King Kong

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One Act Daft Wordplay Play

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The vigilant, diligent gent, Brent, lent a cent
to brilliant, militant, tenement tenant, Trent;
who spent it to rent a tent for his pet, pent-up
serpent; hellbent to dissent; via sibilant vent.

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The End

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Flights of Fancy? NOT!

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Twenty years ago, Chris Carter, Vince Gilligan, John Shiban and Frank Spotnitz wrote a truly intriguing screenplay for the 03/04/2001, debut episode of The Lone Gunmen (TLG: an X-Files spinoff); a storyline that had, no less, foreshadowed the 9/11 attacks.

They had amply demonstrated how writing genius can unleash a vast array of intense, emotional responses from deep within us; i.e., whenever well-chosen words, cleverly crafted sentence structure and a knack for instilling suspense all conspire with superb cinematography and five-star acting skills.

Beyond that nuts and bolts deconstruction, of course, was / still is the heartbreak of 9/11’s death and destruction, itself, and… must there always be an “and”? Sorry to answer that affirmatively, but there’s still more…

Factoring in the narrowly averted, Trumpian overthrow of America this past January 6th; how it’s orange, autocratic architect is still at large, it’s not hyperbole for me to echo the adage, “no truer words were ever spoken” when referring to TLG character Bert Byers, a top tier government agent, offering up the following fatherly summation / counsel to his journalist son, John:

“I know you & your friends are fighting for the
American Dream. Just don’t expect to win it.”

Lone Gunmen Screenplay Writers Chris Carter, Vince Gilligan, John Shiban and Frank Spotnitz • Episode 1 • Air Date: 03/04/2001

Speaking of intense, emotional responses, my merely typing out that quotation (btw, from memory) tears at my heart, tears up my eyes AND redoubles my resolve for taking whatever NON-VIOLENT action is needed to say, “NEVER AGAIN!” to anti-American Donald J. Trump and every other Fascist bastard of his seditious ilk.

Beyond that, I had never fully realized the magnitude of my patriotism until witnessing America almost perish; right before my very eyes; and in real time!

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By-the bye:

For anyone who’d like to see this full episode, copy
these Search Parameters ~ The Lone Gunmen: Pilot
and paste them at YouTube. Run Time = 44 minutes

OR, click to my homepage’s blog Archive: July 2016;
TITLE: 99 Word Blog (#009) Writers Predicted 9/11

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Bye-Bye!

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Another Rainout?

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Pregame Show: With Major League Baseball’s 2021 World Series slated to run 10/26 thru 11/03, and my being a Detroit Tigers fan for sixty years, the diamond related metaphors will abound in today’s post. Here’s my play-by-play / pitch…

Upon my springtime arrival at WordPress Coliseum for the opening of the 2016 season, along with my laptop, dictionary and thesaurus, I unpacked my open ears. I mean, in this game, being a good listener is paramount. Hey, why do you suppose our creator made damned sure our tympanic membranes would outnumber our tongues 2 to 1?

Hey, what can I say? Lovers of the game do obsess over statistics.

Anyway, ever since my first at bat (first post), I’ve had high hopes that my views on life, in general, and the political scene, in particular, would be akin to base hits; maybe the occasional home run. That post, post game, I’d inspire a few (comment section) chats with teammates (followers) and, maybe, even a few visiting team players (passersby), alike. After all, comments do add dimension to issues that I’ve likely missed.

Anyway, a post without comments is akin to a dreary, rained out game. And it’s all those on the horizon, almost daily, gray rainstorm clouds that have got me wondering (worrying a bit, too) about whether or not I’m a monumental bore?

If that’s, indeed, so, why do spirited conversations come so easy to me in the real world?

Case in point, once I depart WordPress for the virtual homeward bound “commute”, I’ve ofttimes found my next door neighbor ready for many a lengthy and lively over the backyard fence confab. And you know what? I’ve never seen her yawn. Nope, not even once.

Suffice to say, these past five seasons, nearly all of my posts, have wound up rained soaked; and that’s dispiriting.

Maybe my thoughts are Uninspiring? Unsophisticated? Irrelevant? Inconsequential? Incomprehensible? Annoying? Antagonistic? Polarizing? Outmoded? Out of step (within our regrettably regressive right wing world)? Depressing (to readers ISO a mood elevating pep talk or escapism)?

Hey, I’m a big-leaguer (15 year veteran blogger) who’s sufficiently humble, objective and grounded to consider all the above.

So, for now, here I am; seated in the WordPress dugout in the late innings; plenty of time on my hands (hey. it’s baseball!) for thinking prior to my next at bat.

I do know this is not the first and won’t be the last time I’ll be talking to myself. Just keepin’ it real, folks. Nope, not about to cry in my virtual beer.

Besides, my team manager (my conscience) reminds me that booze ain’t allowed until the game’s final OUT; preferably in celebration of a well played game’s victory.

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How about a Fast Food Fast?

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Forward: The below mentioned, fast food behemoth shall remain nameless as will its CEO. Opting for anonymity is not only wise within a litigious society, it also serves as a reminder of how, within a business world awash in copycats, we’re not discussing a freakish anomaly.

To say the least…

For nearly seven decades, a notorious junk food purveyor and his predecessors have been persuasively detouring gullible consumers down a one way, dead end road; emphasis on the word DEAD.

To say more…

These customers wind up pigging out on foodstuffs devoid of life sustaining, essential nutrients; overloaded with saturated fat, excess sodium and sugar; all the while, watching their ill-advised, sickening, dietary choices enlarge into an entire, unhealthy (albeit short-lived) lifestyle,

The youngest of these patrons are particularly vulnerable to this company’s manipulation, when tiny toys, trinkets and other worthless swag get served alongside their grub; when aired and streamed weekend cartoons’ adverts trot out their corporate stooge / playful mascot; the affable doofus whose main mission is to deviously indoctrinate these tykes; relentlessly reprogram them until they morph into inveterate, junk food junkies.

In time, when morbid obesity induced, critical illnesses start to strike down these unfortunate youngsters, guess what?

Lo and behold, oft too little and too late, it’s the corporate monsters to the “rescue”. You see, they’ve, oh so conveniently, erected multiple hundreds of pediatric care hospitals to house both their self-made, gravely ill patients; as well as their worried sick folks.

Little doubt, such a corporate gesture has less to do with displaying genuine compassion; more to do with helping Mister Moneybags back-burner whatever vestigial guilt he MIGHT be “feeling”.

Granted, even an unintentional merciful act is a wonderful thing, and, beyond that, it IS the very least he could do. But, how about doing more?

Look, I’m not about to suggest that he shutter his eateries. All I’m asking is why not, instead, supply healthier food to his ravenous captives? In time, once the demand for junk food wanes, he might even be able to shutter a few of his hospitals.

Or better yet, repurpose them so their medical staffs would wind up caring for all who are ailing; both physically and fiscally.

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Postcard To Posterity

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Dear Citizens,

In Theory: a civilized enlightened society’s charter
grants and guarantees Freedom of Speech Rights to
All; blind-eyes demographics; even political stripe.
In Practice, The authors of such sublime covenants
will presciently, sagaciously, vigilantly and valiantly
smooth out their words’ wrinkles; lest the citizenry
foolishly misconstrue or malevolently misuse them;
lest anyone’s speech ever incite imminent, lawless
action(s) that’d overthrow said enlightened society.

Sincerely,
The Founders

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Sure Bets

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On 01/22/2021, in a fleeting moment of lunacy, Democratic Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer’s signed legislation opened the online gambling house and sports betting floodgates. Her way of placating the vast legions (or is that lesions?) of her state’s hardcore conservative, corrupt, crybaby, wallowing in wealth, income tax scofflaws? Of making damned sure they’ll never pay their fair share of taxes?

Hmm… that these righties will still NEVER vote for her sounds like a Sure Bet!

Anyway, this now means that raising sufficient revenue to keep our home state plodding along, heavily depends upon how successful the scum of the earth, opportunistic casino owner-operator-pigs can manipulate the gullible sheeple.

To flesh out this looming human tragedy: According to our Bureau of Labor Statistics (as of February 2021) that targeted for coercion audience involves anywhere from 600,000 to 1,000,000 on the pandemic dole, down on their luck Michiganders.

In other words, the very people who can least afford to lose whatever few bucks they may still have are gambling and losing whatever few bucks they may still have.

So, what happens when the monthly mortgage or rent / auto loan / utility bills all come due? When the fridge and cupboard are bare? When the in tatters kiddies need new threads? I can only imagine the brewing and erupting marital discord / domestic violence / family infighting when all of these unfortunate souls’ next “wardrobe” change involves the one-size-fits all, shabby street life.

One thing worse than the gambling, itself: Ever since, Whitmer’s* chain of “Hard Knocks” Casinos have collectively thrown open their virtual front door, their parasitic bosses have been shoveling in their untold wealth to fuel media saturation buys; i.e., to unleash advertising campaigns that leave no media streams and airwaves unpolluted; no nanosecond of each day untapped; inclusive of sunrise Sunday time slots.

*Since she OK’d ‘em she now (metaphorically) owns ’em, too!

My God, how disturbed does a person have to be to wake up, whip out his device and start wagering on a Sunday morn? Hell, why not stuff that dough into a house of worship’s collection plate, instead?

In a past post I spoke very highly of our guv. Guess I spoke too soon, huh?

So, WTF would it take to get these gambling hell holes to give it all a rest? A REST? Hmm, how about ARREST?

NOPE, since all they do breaks no laws, that ain’t gonna happen! That means avoidance of their insufferable, ceaseless ad blitzkriegs will necessitate shutting down my TV’s antenna/amplifier and PC’s router/modem.

Hmm… to me, that sounds like a Sure Bet!

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