Tagged: Writing

Trump’s Not A Horse in A Building; He’s James Bond

My brother was the first to share with me the humorous analysis that watching Trump was like watching a horse inside a building—it’s off-putting, but everything is probably gonna be okay.

But the more I watch Trump, the more I am sure that the creature he is most similar to is James Bond.

If you haven’t watched one of the films recently, please do so before reacting argumentatively to this idea.

The general highlights of the two characters’ similarities are the neat suit, and the humor—often some kind of sexual innuendo, as was on display yesterday. There is also, at this point, on full display for the entire nation and world, a remarkable ability to land on their feet.

And if you haven’t watched the McDonald’s clips, you owe it to yourself to track some down. A beautiful lady pulls up to the window, and Trump says aloud, “You’re a beautiful woman.” A tough looking large man pulls up to the window, and Trump says aloud, “Wow, I wouldn’t want to mess with you.”

“And you are?”

“Trump. Donald Trump.”

Is It Possible that They Are Mad Because They Couldn’t Control Him?

Many American Generals are saying some outrageous things about Trump as this election cycle dashes to the finish. Is it possible these high-ranking men are mad because they couldn’t control Trump?

There are reports that General Mattis allegedly slept in his gym clothes in case he got a call to come in overnight.

“What do you want to discuss now, my favorite color?”

Is fate so unkind as to hinge nuclear attack on the time it takes to change clothes?

I doubt it.

More believable is these generals, regardless the character they exhibited along their climb to political power, became persuaded that they were anointed and Trump was not.

I’m sorry, but I do not live in a country where the defense secretary’s pajamas are a matter of national security anymore than Colonel Jessup’s underwear.

Sleep, Sleeper

If I could change one aspect of modernity, it would be to un-invent the clock. I know, I know, it wouldn’t work. Modernity needs the clock like fish need water. But living by a clock has always felt unnatural to me. Most unnatural is the idea of waking up because of “what time” it is. Sleep, I say.

Running right alongside my fantasy is that I hate waking people up, no matter what time the clock says it is. I feel that I have done my small part in increasing happiness for my fellow man if I help keep people asleep. Specifically, I do everything in my power to keep babies, toddlers, and children asleep. This sleep benevolence of mine extends also to spouses and family members and house guests in general. If I am at work and someone is sleeping, I tip-toe away and do whatever is in my power to not wake them.

I cannot recall the last time I caused or allowed (or let pass without strong rebuke, for that matter) a sharp noise to be sounded while someone was sleeping.

I do confess there are moments where my posture towards sleep is more difficult, perhaps impossible, to maintain. When H- was small, we went to the symphony together and she would fall asleep despite the racket. At the end, I couldn’t just close the place down as she slept. So I woke her.

On Sundays, the black baptists run long as a rule. J- often finds the padded pew similar enough to a bed. I cannot just allow him to sleep as they come to the conclusion of the whole matter. Life must go on.

But I ask you, dear reader, what about when I show up to H-’s orchestra concert only to be carefully ignored by her? What if H- plans a trip to visit my parents and siblings (her grandparents and aunts and uncles) and is sure to confirm that I do not have a coordinated surprise visit in mind before boarding?

What then? Should I let H- sleep? Should my family let H- sleep?

H- is told the worst kind of lies by her mom, her mom’s parents, her step-dad, and his parents, and my parents, my siblings, and—unless I miss my mark—the entire fucking population of this great country have decided to let her sleep.

H- is living a lie.

She doesn’t know it, but she has been kidnapped.

She doesn’t know it, but her dad is robbed monthly and has been for 12+ years.

She doesn’t know it, but she would not have a roof over her head, food in her belly, or a pot to piss in, if it wasn’t for me.

She doesn’t know it, because she sleeps.

Should I wake her?

Nahhh. Let her sleep.

Sleep, Sleeper.

Kamala Harris Speaks in Sentence Fragments and Believes the Sky is Flat

The “word salad” description of Kamala Harris’ utterances is just not powerful. It is accurate, but it is not powerful. So the time has come to change the description of her speech. It is time to plainly state that she does not speak in complete sentences. Instead, simply describe that she speaks in sentence fragments.

Kamala Harris speaks in sentence fragments. She does not speak in complete sentences. She also does not speak in run-on sentences. Instead, she speaks in sentence fragments.

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I also want to return to her “see the constellation” wisdom she pronounced the other day, one more time.

Forget that constellations are “not real” in the sense that Orion doesn’t really look like a warrior with a bow, nor does Orion’s Belt really look anything like a belt. I don’t care about that. What is striking to me, especially after having read through many of the great “scientists” of Western Civilization and their celestially-centered work—something Harris has clearly never read—is that constellations and Harris’s entire point are based on an incorrect model of the universe. The night sky has depth. The stars in the constellations are not lights lining the interior of a sphere, similar to a planetarium. The universe is deep.

Kamala Harris is manifestly ignorant of this and consequently passes on proverbs from antiquity which amount to little more than horoscope. This woman is a moron. And it ain’t because she is black, Indian, or a woman. It is because she speaks in sentence fragments and believes the sky is flat.

A Midwestern Take On the State of the Two Campaigns

Trump: They know they have won. At this point all that is left to do is stay in headlines. (ref: dancing, outrageous rhetoric etc.)

Harris: They know they have lost. At this point all that is left to do is prove you really tried. (ref: interview explosion)

The Answer to This Gen Xer’s Middle-School Question, “What Is the Point of Diagramming Sentences?”

Harris answered, “If you just look at where the stars are in the sky don’t look ‘em as just random things if you just look at them as points look at the constellation what does it show you?”

Before you review the provided diagram, please take a moment to consider the concept she asserted that the “stars” are “random things” and “points”.

That took about 45 min and some help from the internet. Overall, I learned that Harris used the imperative (I hate being bossed) and uncommonly deep subordinate phrasing.

Now, if only we knew what those random points in the sky when it is dark were, then we might be getting somewhere towards understanding Trump’s racism.

Harris 2024!!

Media’s Paradox

What if they start suggesting that the polls indicate Trump will win, and then Trump were to lose?

This, my fellow Americans, is why you don’t lie.

They lied for so long, that now, they cannot see a way to recover their integrity.

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Up next, I am going to answer the age old question about the task of diagramming sentences, “Why do we have to learn this?”

The Spark

I’m not saying it will ignite what seems inconceivable—a full and prolonged civil war—but I am saying it will light a proper insurrection.

The spark is going to be a widely attended and publicized funeral.

When the time comes, the funeral, and its attendant crowds, will be the event and day and time that ordinary citizens, and not-so-ordinary citizens, will violently enflame the tinderbox of MAGA vs. DNC incivility. Stay home.

Yes, I have been reading Les Misérables. Yes, I got the idea directly from it. No, I do not think the situation in America is anything like 1832 Paris. But we all can feel that more escalation and more outrageous events await.

It’s my blog. There is a thrill to making measurable predictions. Don’t steal my joy! And before you get your panties in a bunch, just admit that, sadly, you know I am right on this one.

Nothing Surprises

It’s all hype. There are no surprises.

I really want to say something about the content of Jack Smith’s “motion for immunity determinations”, but the truth is that the only thing that bothers me about it is that it is being hyped as “October Surprise!” I’m bothered because it isn’t a surprise! In fact, nothing surprises.

Nothing surprised because the news cycle is not 24/7, the cycle is perpetual. In fact, there is no cycle anymore. Also, there are no journalists. Instead, there are varying levels of paid hype-snitches.

We are suckers when we insist that there is such a thing as news and journalists. There used to be news and journalists. But today there are only empty forms. There is no substance. Something new is occurring, some new kind of communication. And the way to keep the upper hand, the way to stay true to yourself, is to admit it. And then train yourself to be as discerning as possible.

Example:

“October surprise! October surprise!” says the news.

You think, “Next!”

Got it?