Friday, August 23, 2024

Make Us Proud


Word on the street is that it is now "cool" again for liberals to be patriotic.

Really?

Sorry, guys...

I don't think so.

Not even addressing the fact that I find the concept of "patriotism" on a par with organized religion as far as being a tool for the few to control the many through tribalism, exclusion, fear and violence...

Maybe the first step in the direction of patriotism should be making me "proud to be an American"...another concept of which I have not been a fan, nor to which I have subscribed, for many years.

And while I'm excited about the Harris candidacy, and what it might possibly mean for the slim hope of extending the life of our fragile, ailing democratic republic...

I don't see it making significant inroads into ending Trump, MAGA, and all they represent.

As long as a major party of this nation can cling to a monster like Trump as its standard-bearer; as long as a significant portion of our populace--including members of our highest levels of government--will worship and emulate him and all he represents...

I won't even be tempted to claim to be proud of America.

Fix it. End them.  Flush them into the black sewers of history where they belong.

Then, maybe we can talk about pride. 



Thursday, August 1, 2024

Rabbit Rabbit

 Rabbit rabbit it is...

 

According to folklore, saying "Rabbit rabbit" as the first words spoken on the first of the month brings good fortune for the entire month.

I'll go with that...


Sunday, July 14, 2024

How Far WOULD They Go?

 Is there a degree of depravity to which they would not stoop?

Hell fucking no….



Thursday, July 4, 2024

New Words, Please…!

 


At first, “tired and used up” seemed appropriate terms for those words we toss around on every national holiday…

But after a little more thought, I realized the REAL problem I have with the old words.

If you are at all familiar with my writings, you know that I LOATHE “The Star-Spangled Banner”…

And, like Old Glory herself, the words to our national anthem have been weaponized by the right-wing crazies. 

“Freedom” applies to anything the hell I feel like doing, no matter how loathsome, selfish or evil… But not to anything YOU do that I’ve decided I don’t like.

“Bravery” refers to my propensity  to mercilessly bully and threaten those less fortunate or even just different from me.

It’s all very tribal…primitive and un-evolved.

And, I don’t know…

I just don’t think that is the crap the founders meant to encourage when they visualized the “Great Experiment.”

Just sayin’


Saturday, June 29, 2024

Thursday, May 30, 2024

Saturday, May 25, 2024

…Not My Monkeys

Who knew that the problem with the US today is that so many Americans had secret dreams of running away to join the circus…?




Thursday, April 18, 2024

You Can't Have It Both Ways

 

Stumbled upon this one on NPR today:

Baby Boomers Own Big Houses and It’s Affecting The Housing Crunch.   

I’m confused.

Last I heard, we Baby Boomers were the villains because we were selling off our big family homes and using the money to pay cash for smaller homes, thereby “cheating” younger home buyers out of starter-level housing.

Seems like NOW we suck because some of us have decided to stay in our big, under-used houses because economic circumstances are not favorable to trading them in on something smaller. Thereby "cheating" millennials with families out of these larger, family-friendly homes.

To me, this looks more like Boomer-Bashing--one of the most popular social media sports these days--than legitimate journalism.  Every bad or even slightly off-kilter thing that happens in American society today is the fault of us evil folks born between 1946 and 1964.

Everything we have, we are hoarding so the millennials can't have it.  

Everything we get, we are stealing from those self-same millennials. 

Apparently, we should hand over the keys to...everything, so subsequent generations can have our stuff; and then disappear, so our children and our children's children don't have to waste any time or money on keeping us alive. 

Look:

Five years ago, we sold our 2200 square foot, four bedroom home, took the money and paid cash for a MUCH smaller place in a city nearer my family. Did it rankle that we paid $40k MORE for this dinky little 50-year-old ranch than we had for our 4-year-old (at the time) beautiful four bedroom home with the 3-car garage 20 years earlier? Yes it did. But the goal was a house with no mortgage in the area we wanted to live in. And that’s what we got. The insane escalating housing market made it LOOK like more of a stupid move than it was.

So I would certainly counsel people my age who CAN trade in the giant empty home the old folks are rattling around in for a mortgage-free, more maintainable single level abode, to do so.  Even if it does drive you crazy that you will end up paying WAY more for the downsized dwelling than you did for the big one.  That was then...this is now.  Deal with it.

Even so, let's face it: In the eyes of American social media, you are damned if you do and damned if you don't.  So do what will work best for you and f**k everybody else's bullshit. 

But, really...  Is it too much to ask for a little respect for Baby Boomers?  We didn't have it easy, we worked for what we got; over the past  thirty years we have watched our lifestyles erode just like everyone else's, due to reaganomics and the false promise of "trickle down." Basically, we have stuff that we got before the backward slide, and you're damned right we're going to hold on to it with both hands.  How does this make US responsible for everyone else's suffering?

Maybe the worst mistake we made was teaching our children that they deserved a better life than we had...but somehow, we forgot to pass along that you have to work for your stuff.  It doesn't just get handed to you when you believe it's time for you to have it.

And, you know...  We might even be inclined to give you some of our stuff, if you treated us like human beings instead of the scourge of your existence.  

Shame on NPR for publishing this article.  And shame on everybody else for your ageist, entitled attitude toward your parents and grandparents, and their worldly possessions. We don't deserve your vitriol, and we don't owe you unrestricted access to the stuff we worked a lifetime to acquire. Keep in mind: Without us, you wouldn’t even exist.

Sunday, March 31, 2024

Saved By...What?

 

This seems an appropriate post for the day that Christians claim is the most important day of their liturgical calendar.

Easter Sunday.

The day their messiah is purported to have rolled away the stone and walked out of his grave alive.

This being the miracle that banished all sin and "saved" the human race.

That, right there, is the biggest single thing that makes Christianity...bogus.

"Jesus died for MY sins.  So I can do anything the hell I want, no matter how horrible, no matter whom it hurts, no matter the dire consequence for anyone (but me...), and all I have to do is screw up some tears and declare 'I'm sorry' and everything is all better."

The history of Christianity is built upon the bad deeds of (mostly) men who horrifically wronged anyone they chose, for any reason they chose, because, hey...if I fucked up, all I have to do is say "sorry," and I'll go to heaven anyway.  

That SO does not work for me.

And it doesn't work for anyone who isn't Christian, who is considered "other" by this tribe who believes it is saved from consequences by their god.

And it doesn't work for the earth, whose grievous injuries inflicted by those who are "saved" are not going to miraculously heal when that "sorry" echoes up to the deity they created in their own image.

And when I see these pumped up, misguided idiots lining up to purchase bibles signed by their own Anti-Christ...

Yeah.

Best argument in the world for atheism.


Monday, March 4, 2024

Somewhere Out There

 Why do we cry when people we love die?

Most of the time, especially when we're talking about people in the age group I inhabit now, the person who has died has been released from suffering. Shed of a body that no longer served. Freed to go on to...whatever comes next.

What is sad about that?

What is sad is that WE no longer have that person.  WE will miss them.  We will have to go on with a loved-one-shaped hole in our hearts and lives.

So, in essence, we cry for ourselves.

Oh, it's not as if this philosophy has made me immune to crying when my loved ones leave.

I have shed many tears since I learned of Jackie's death. They just...come.  Unbidden.  But, I think, cleansing.  

My dear friend.  

The one who stuck with me for all these years.  I was trying to think how many years it has been. More than thirty...less than forty.  Thirty-five?  Thirty-six?

We got each other in a way that no one else got either one of us.  She was smart.  She was bookish.  She was a seeker.  And I could appreciate that.  And be so, too, though I think I had only a shadow of her intellect.  But we both understood it was difficult to be smart and analytical in the minimum-wage world we inhabited.  So we...attached to each other.

And when we no longer lived close enough to see each other face-to-face, we bonded in j-land.  THAT was over 20 years ago.  

J-land and the blogging craze fell by the wayside...and all the "friends" I thought I had made in that ethereal place faded away.

Except Jackie.  

She stayed.  

She came.

She left a word or two, just to let me know she had been by, if nothing else.

That is what REAL friends do.

Our interactions became more and more infrequent.  But I always took comfort knowing she was out there, somewhere.

But knowing the state of her health, I was always aware/afraid that there would come a time when she WOULDN'T be out there.

And now that time has come.

But maybe...

Yes, I think so.

She IS out there.

Somewhere.

And I will let that comfort wash over me.

 

So...That was it.  20 hits on the entry about Jackie even though I linked to it on Instagram.  No comments or condolences left here...a couple on Instagram.  Her family couldn't even be bothered to write a decent obituary for her, nor to allow my tribute to her on her "tribute wall" to be published.  Only two weeks gone, and already mostly forgotten.  How invisible our little lives are, hardly a speck in the cosmos.  But perhaps if there's one person who remembers you and misses you, that's all we can ask for.  I'm that person, for Jackie.  And I'll wear that mantle proudly.