Wayne Michael Reich

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Author: Wayne Michael Reich

Sciencefaction Guaranteed (Orville that ends Well)

“Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Begin at the beginning. Tell Gregory a story. Make some light.”- Kate DiCamillo, The Tale of Despereaux Greetings

 Hello, Blogiteers!

 I won’t speak for any of you, but I for one, see some major personal and socio-cultural possibilities contained within Americas current apocalyptic phase, masquerading under the razor-studded umbrella of business as abnormal. Granted, over 200K of us have needlessly died at the hands of a wheezy Mussolini who by now, should have been turned into a human piñata homage in the way the source of his nickname was, but I’ll digress for the time being.

It’s become rather obvious that when we find ourselves back on the doorstep of Normal, battered, bruised, and far more cynically enlightened than we were before all of this started, we’re going to need to have a rather intensely focused discussion as to what parts of normality we should keep, and what we need to jettison out of our lives, as if it was that one Ex who slept with all of our friends.

 And not the hotties mind you, the ugly ones, which somehow… makes it seem that much worse.

I can honestly say that if you had told me four years ago that I’d be living in an America that was incompetently and dangerously overlorded by an even uglier and denser Biff Tannen from the Back To the Future Movies, I would have been forced to remind you yet again why that one Tupperware full of what appears to be Brownies in my fridge was so heavily marked in Sharpie as being “special” for a reason. So, two lessons to be learned here- the first that maybe, just maybe, we need to get rid of the electoral college and the as of late, disastrously proven theorem that anybody can be president, and the second being that I need to do a far better job in working out where to store the end result of my mystical brownie recipe in the near Future, methinks.

However, in a refreshing change of pace, I’m going to eventually discuss at some point in this, the newest of my screeds, something happy and snarkless for a change. I know, I know, it strikes me as somewhat weird too, but let’s just roll with it as a group, shall we? For those of you who know me personally, and for a lesser few of you who feel they’ve gotten to get a sense of me from my writing, it’s fairly obvious that I’ve got a touch of the Geek about me, and I wave my dork-flag with both pride and devotion.

Not only do I own a collection of vintage comic books and Star Trek / Star Wars toys, including no less than five lightsabers, I have a fondness for traditional cel cartoons, computer animated films, science-based documentaries, and as you might expect, science fiction films from every era, and of every conceivable plotline. This affection for such films literally not of this world, stems from a couple of impressionable moments from my childhood, some good, some bad.

The good; seeing Star Wars for the first time as an eight-year-old with my Dad, and realizing almost immediately that when I grew up, I was going to choose being a Corellian smuggler as a career, no matter what my Dad, science teacher, and local policemen told me. And this they did, more than once, I might add.

The bad: existing as an underweight geek in high school, and realizing that no matter how impressive my knowledge of the Sith was to my fellow Jedi, it wasn’t going to score me a hot chance in Hell with that cute Goth chick in my art class, so a literal fantasy world where brains were more important than your looks, who your friends were, or even what spaceship you flew, seemed very appealing to me at the time, as it sporadically does now.

Given what’s currently going on in this country, whether the negative aspect can be laid at the feet of either politics or the increasingly fractured rules of civil discourse, the escapism available to be found within the limitless worlds of sci-fi seems more relevant than ever, whether we find that distraction in the perversely twisted darklands of Dystopia, or the serenity of Utopia, as set forth by the literary and visual architects of the crafted tales.

Now, I could waste your time with yet another soliloquy of how 1980’s “Flash Gordon” is one of the best big-budget “B” movies that has ever hit the silver screen, or discuss in detail using scale models and an amazing PowerPoint presentation, as a means to bolstering my go-to argument that hands down, “Event Horizon” and “Alien” are two of the scariest films in existence, regardless of their sci-fi roots, but my soon to be jotted-down musings aren’t about that which can be labeled as either camp or terror, but about something that this country has regrettably had a dearth of since electing a vile bigoted bottle of Adderal-infused spray tanner as a leader, that being a quantifiable sense of hope.

If the reason why such a feeling of despondent foreboding currently exists isn’t all that clear to you, let me just illustrate why this is by taking this moment in time to… [Artbitch gestures expressively to include, well… everything.] As with most things, there isn’t just one factor as to why this is, but most of our current mental miasma can be traced in some part to the proliferation of the most creative, and yet concurrently destructive, forces within the sociocultural sphere, that being the combined duo of the Media and the Internet.

I’ve written at length multiple times before, so I’m not going to take a stroll down those particular alleyways of thought again, but I will call attention to a sidebar that has been percolating in the ol’ brainpan for a while now. No matter the invention, it’s uses as either a salve or a salvo rests solely in the hands of whomever wields it.

For instance, the Media in its best incarnation, can be used as a conduit to educate, entertain, or inform, and in its worst embodiment, is corrupted to obscure, terrorize, or deceive. The Internet can do all of this as well, but its reach is far more insidious in the end, for unlike the Media that must swim forward as if it were a shark to survive, the Net can endlessly recycle specific ideas and theories, regardless of what information arises to challenge it. For clarity, I’m not referring to the standardized tropes of crime, race, and gender that currently passes for journalism in this country as of late, no, what I’m addressing is the 24/7 virus of selective spoon-fed data that is the bread and circus of the World Wide Web.

So, as noted earlier, the ability to personally unplug as it were, has become not just fortunate, but crucial. And for my money, nothing offers up the chance for a personal mental vacation better than the cultural influence of the science fiction genre.

 But what are the parameters of such, you ask? The generally accepted definition is varied, due to the myriad of difficulty defining a set of unyielding borders for this range of creative endeavors whose authors, critics, scholars, and readers, balk openly at the thought of having clearly demarcated limits placed upon them in the first place.

Despite this, a rough argument could be made that Science Fiction, which is also known under the shortened moniker of “sci-fi”, is a vast genre of theoretical fiction that exemplifies inventive and innovative concepts which incorporate advanced science and technology, galactic exploration, time travel, and the idea of limitless parallel universes, and the possibility of alien races, as its most basic cornerstones. It has been called the “literature of ideas”, and often uses for its fictitious and artistic plot points, the potential after-effects, be they moral or wicked, regarding the introduction of social and technological concepts into either a new, or long established, society.

 Science fiction can also encompass the related genres of fantasy, horror, (as I noted earlier) and superhero fiction, along with the varied subgenres that can result from the intermeshing of ideas and germinated storylines. And due to its fantastical flexibility, it can also address the issues of the modern-day in a way that most of its contemporaries cannot, as the TV series Star Trek did, and continued to do, long after it’s heyday of popularity.

For many, being lectured to in regards to an uncomfortable issue, can be a hard and bitter pill to swallow for all involved, but wrap it up in an ice-world with bikini-clad sorceresses and laser-guns, and you’ve created a willingly captive audience who will accept your morality tale masquerading as entertainment, to an apogee that in the end, hopefully inspires a recalibration of their point of view.

Now at this point, some of my more regular and dedicated readers might be wondering why I’m even presenting what at its best, might be openly construed as a widely divergent tangent from my normal Bag O’ Bitchiness, but trust me, it’s far easier for me to do this, than go on an a much deserved and unhinged NERF-bat bludgeoning spree. Typically, I relish the ensuing and inevitable confrontations that result from what I write and openly say on various Social Media platforms, very much in the manner of how a four-year-old regards Christmas, and to be honest, that rapturous joy sustains me far beyond the pale of what one might expect.

My literary formulation has been purposefully designed to call out heightened attention to what I find to be ethically lacking, albeit in people or institutions, as well as hopefully starting a decisive dialogue regarding such. However, the last three things I’ve written have stuck around for far longer than they typically are apt to do, and the cold repercussions that usually result from the stance that I take, are punching back far harder as well, this time around.

Normally, when I write about persons or situations that I find particularly toxic, the residual ichor that I’ve acquired doing so slides off my psyche as if I were a Teflon-coated duck, but not this time, and I’m pretty sure I know why. What I tend to write isn’t your archetypal type of tale that  can be whipped up and out in ten minutes- there’s a TON of research and vetting that goes into my literary endeavors, which a fan of mine once described as “fishhook story-telling”, the graphic descriptive referring to how difficult it was to just stop reading my stuff, put a metaphorical pin in it, and come back later to finish it off.

Essentially, they said that every time they were ready to do so, the next paragraph would throw out a series of hooks, and pull them back in. Granted, I do find this praise flattering, even if it calls to mind some distressing scenes from the Hellraiser movies.

 Keep in mind that for the last three months, I have been walking through a human personality sewer in regards to the last two people I’ve written about, and that, solidly up to my neck. The first being a disingenuous hypocritical faux Christian, whom, while annoying, hardly qualified as truly anything more than a walking punchline, ripe for mocking. If anything, I find it extremely ludicrous that some people in my small community listen to, and hold a modicum of respect for, an alleged middle-aged hypocritical harpy who openly supports Trump, while claiming an unshakeable faith in a Bronze-Age Sky-daddy fable.

A myth that not only demands your eternal groveling and total submission, but for some strange reason that is as yet unexplained, also requires a fair amount of your hard-earned cash as well.

So, either the mythical God has an exceedingly worrisome gambling addiction, or perhaps his pimps are skimming off the top. Just a thought. Other than their inherent hypocrisy, the only other thing that got under my skin was their asinine assertion that lauded actor Tom Hanks was, and I swear that I am not making this up, a serial pedophile who had been arrested in Australia, and had been fitted with an ankle monitor, so his movements could be tracked if need be.

Yes, you read that right. The guy who played Mr. Rogers, is in *fact, a sexually deviant pervert who has a thing for molesting innocent children And yes, I have a screenshot of her meme to prove it:

*[This is NOT a fact. It is however, a clear sign of a possible underlying mental illness, though.]

You can literally feel the love of Jesus radiating out of her, can you not? Let’s face it. When you come across somebody this paranoically stupid, all you really can do is take a deep breath, and make sure that they don’t have access to scissors, the car keys and remote control, and most importantly- the voting booth and a sexual partner, so they can’t make any further contribution to the shot-glass depth end of the gene pool. But when it comes to the other individual, I excoriated in not one, but two separate screeds? JFC, that guy [in my opinion] is not only an absolute racist loon, he’s worthy of his own statue in whatever inbred white supremacist enclave that would look upon that type of person as a role model. I’ve come across his type before, but I’ve never seen a bigot who was this virulently dedicated to the cause of racial divisiveness as he seems to be.

 Every time I took a deep dive into his social media to gather my acorns of research, I came away with a little less optimism that Humanity was running along just fine.

Here’s the thing I found truly bizarre, if not wholly unsettling: no matter how hard the effort, and no matter how you may try to camouflage it, your personality and who you really are, bleeds off whatever site you may be using, even if you are prone to doing it casually. As part of my ongoing “Aggravate the Trumpanzees” campaign, I use all the information that can be gleaned, and the best source for reconnaissance is usually the Internet. It’s literally an open book, chock full of the most personal and sensitive information.

Due to this risk of having my own out-of-context life used against me, my FB page is private, but unfortunately, I cannot do the same in regards to my IG profile, as I use that platform as an open conduit to promote my creative endeavors, and political viewpoint. And if you think I’m an opinionated jerk here, I can assure you beyond reproach, that you’d really hate my presence there. 

 But this person’s social media isn’t an open book, as much as it is a case study in paranoia and a warning of what happens when ignorance, bigotry, and inanity are granted internet access. When I started unpeeling the odious onion of my subjects openly on display for all to see psyche, it just got more disturbing the deeper I dove. My disquiet strangely enough, wasn’t due to his bigotry however, but more to the unease of discerning that there wasn’t a single example of what most would consider common humanity to be found anywhere within his online activity… at all.

What I mean by this, is that if you go cyber-cruising through the backroads of the online lives that draw your interest, you’ll notice a few similarities to your own, interestingly enough. There’ll be examples of personal interests and hobbies, postings from close friends, maybe even a few pictures of family gatherings, just-born babies, phone videos of your kids or dog doing adorable things, maybe some recipes, a few jokes, long with the inevitable political memes and particular opinions regarding such.

 All perfectly normal… for most of us, that is.

 Nevertheless, when it comes to this particular person, I can only note that over the years, I’ve written about a lot of people, and they’ve all had their unique quirks to be sure, but they at least all shared the common ground of being able to pass as human, even if they did it by less than a hairbreadth. But this guy would not only fail the Voight-Kampff test from the seminal 1982 sci-fi cult masterpiece known as Blade Runner, he’d do it while complaining the whole time that Black Replicants were getting special treatment.

For those of you who have no idea what I’m culturally referencing, the fictional Voight-Kampff test was utilized by the Blade Runner unit of the 2019 LAPD to assist in the sometimes-difficult task of determining if a particular individual was a member of a manufactured human class, known as Replicants, which due to their status as products and not as sentient entities, were outlawed on Earth under the unarguable penalty of their being involuntarily “Retired”, also known as an automatic death sentence.

 That’s an upbeat vision of the Future, isn’t it? To be honest, after solidly perusing all that I’ve compiled in regards to his ideology and non-humanistic leanings, I’d opine with a somber conviction that if you tugged on his face just a little too hard, his skin would tear away to reveal a lizard-humanoid underneath it, just as it did in NBC’s 1983 classic miniseries, “V”. For legal reasons, I’m not suggesting even for a second that anyone out there should pull on this dude’s face as if it were Stretch Armstrong’s or a blob of Silly Putty, but I would advocate that if you notice him staring at your pet hamster as if it were a Snicker’s bar, you just might want to rethink that whole movie night get-together you’ve been planning, and leave it at that.
As I noted earlier, the majority of fully functioning online humankind could easily show that they are indeed people, and not sentient mannequins, but I doubt my budding tiki-torch wielding advocate for the *weißer rennen could do so, unless he pulled an all-nighter, and crammed for the test in the very same way he filled that otherwise empty melon on top of his neck with all that ignorant bigotry he’s so fond of.[”White Race” in German]

As I stated earlier, when I write about somebody, I dive deep, for a variety of reasons. The primary being that I want to make sure that I’m correct in my initial valuation of who and what they are, and the remainder to ascertain whether or not the resulting screed will have the legs to carry itself more than a few metaphorical and staggering feet. As one might and should imagine, it’s an unevenly loaded milk crate at times, and sadly, my mental filing cabinet is stuffed chock-full of concepts and opening paragraphs that went nowhere.

 However, in retrospect, I would have rather ended up in Nowhere than where I eventually landed, a place so devoid of that which makes us human, I thought that maybe I had stumbled onto a spoof profile. But no, he’s real, and somehow, that’s far more terrifying than the philosophy he infects others with, hands down.

Why do I feel this way, you ask? Because on his profile, there’s none of the aforementioned human touches I referenced earlier. No personal photos whatsoever with friends, family or even a dog. No humorous videos. No memes that aren’t either racist or ignorant in their scope. And most disturbingly, nothing that dissuades me from my unease that given the right conditions, he could pop off like a can of soda that’s been left inside a hot car. I’ve never seen a profile like his, and I’m a guy who while doing research for an eventually unpublished piece regarding the Neo-Nazi movement in Arizona, spent his time knee-deep wading through the pages of its various supporters.

Did they proudly stand behind their racist views? Hell yes. Did they post abominable memes and “proof” like our previous subject does? You betcha. But even these chromosomally-deficient lunkheads had what our fictional Replicants craved- evidence of human contact. Granted, most of their photos depicted either racist rallies or them showing off their White Power tattoos, but at least they could brag about having friends, and outside interests, odious as they might be. But not our guy. He literally and obsessively, focuses on three things: BLM, African-Americans, and the Democratic party.

To be fair, I too, have been accused, and more than once I’m afraid, on being a tad overly attentive to certain things to the point of all distraction, but even I will throw in a random cookie recipe from time to time to break up the monotony.

 But in regards to my previous blog subject, I keep having a premonition that one day in the future, he’s going to be both a headline and the lead story on the six o’clock news. And that right quick, if it doesn’t become clear to him that notwithstanding the quirks of melanin, we’re all stuck on this space-rock together, and the only way we all move forward is to do it together. That sentiment may sound as if it’s covered in treacle, but it’s also relevantly true. Life is far too short to spend it wallowing in paranoic hatred, and unless you’ve made some personal deal with your mythical God, past the point of serving as an eternal bad example, you’re not getting out of here alive anytime soon.

So, if it’s at all possible, perhaps they should sojourn their personal crusade of impersonating a vanilla douche for five minutes, and take a look at what their legacy is going to be, because the ramifications of it are certainly not admirable, to say the very least.

 Gah. Enough of this. I promised you something happy, and so, I shall deliver. I am a man of my wors after all, and I’d like to keep my good standing as such. Not to mention, I’d hate to lose my discount at Nice-Guys-R-Us. Let me tell you, there’s nothing that will adversely affect your sense of internal Zen like walking through the wasteland of somebody else’s shattered humanity, and sadly realizing that you may have no cumulative effect for the better by attempting to perform an act of *Kintsugi upon it.

Some people can most definitely be saved, if only from themselves, but not everyone can be salvaged successfully, and that’s the hard truth. Hopefully, this person can de-ass their head and get it on straight enough to willingly re-join the rest of us who understand and more importantly believe, that hate should have no home, either in one’s community, or in one’s soul. Just my two cents.

*[ Kintsugi (AKA: 金継ぎ, “golden joinery”, kintsukuroi (金繕い, or “golden repair”) is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by fixing what has been broken with lacquer mixed with either powdered gold, silver, or platinum. However, it also has a guiding philosophy attached to the act of repair, as it views breakage as part of the history of an object, which results in the repair being purposefully visible, rather than hiding it from perusal.]

So there I was, feeling like I had just spent a week being a featured extra in a German Scheisse video, wondering just how I was going to get the toxic stench of his bigoted bulls**t off of me, and searching for the strongest of distracting entertainment to assuage the feeling that I had been camping directly under my own metaphorical version of *Kjeragbolten since the start of writing about it.

But where to start? I tried Disney+, but documentaries and cartoons both featuring helium-voiced rodents didn’t quite make the cut. Netflix was okay, but I can only handle so many Bollywood movies before I want to start immolating the nearest Tandoori takeout, and when it comes to Amazon Prime, I get queasy at the thought of Jeff Bezos, who is the closest thing this planet will ever see to having it’s very own Lex Luthor, using my hard-earned money just so he can make the corpse of Steve Jobs seem almost friendlier and warmer by comparison. *[Kjeragbolten is the name of a massive boulder, stuck solidly in a crevasse of one of the more popular tourist locations in Norway, a mountain known as Kjerag. Set 1000 meters high, tourists with obvious thrill issues, take delight in potentially risking their lives by posing atop the boulder, which in my opinion, just goes to prove that some people really need to watch less Roadrunner cartoons, and read a book or two involving the Laws of Physics.]

 And thus, I finally found myself within the land of HULU, a streaming service which apparently when I wasn’t paying attention, raided the closet where I store some of my favorite science fiction shows, and copied the inventory list:

 Space 1999?If you’re gonna die, you might as well die on Alpha.” Firefly? “Yes sir, Captain Tightpants! Rick and Morty? You son-of-a-bitch. I’m in.” Akira? KANEDA!” Futurama? My story is a lot like yours, only more Interesting ’cause it involves robots.” Twin Peaks? Every day, once a day, give yourself a present, The X-Files? “I scream, you scream, we all scream for nonfat Tofutti rice dreamsicles.” Star Trek TOS? “Now, I don’t pretend to tell you how to find happiness and love, when every day is a struggle to survive. But I do insist that you do survive, because the days and the years ahead are worth living for!” Star Trek TNG? Life’s true gift is the capacity to enjoy enjoyment.” Deep Space Nine? Think of it! Five years ago, no one had ever heard of Bajor or Deep Space Nine, and now, all our hopes rest here!”

 And man, was there hope. A few weeks’ worth of it, actually. And all of it boiled down to a series of full-on binging sessions, happily fueled by a seemingly endless supply of room-temperature Dr. Pepper, precisely chilled Ding Dongs, and a cast-iron bladder. As I racked up the hours wandering through the multiverses emanating from my flat-screen TV, I was transported farther and farther away from the difficulties of this currently f**ked-up sphere, and into worlds where if they didn’t have viable solutions to offer in relation to their own issues, the unfettered optimism that one day they would, remained as unbreakable as their faith in the resilience of the human spirit.

Even if the essence of this spirit was sometimes personified in the form of aliens that could be blue-skinned, asexual, ten feet tall, telepathic, and hopefully possessed with a murderous penchant for snacking on still-living, and hopefully still-screaming, Ewoks. After all, a boy who truly despises Ewoks can still have a dream, can’t he?

 Of course he can, because goddamnit, this is still America after all. Or it might not be. I haven’t checked the news yet to see where we’re currently at, so y’all might want to take this opinion with about a pound of salt until I make certain that this is correct. My joy from contemplating a He-shed built from the skulls of slaughtered creepy space teddy bears aside, this interlude of laconically wallowing within my orb of self-care did resharpen a few theoretical points of mine that have been blunted by my grueling daily regimen of constantly throwing spanners in the works of as many Repubutards as I can amass within reason, and sometimes, even beyond that. The way I see it currently, is that we’re all being tested for the Future, and we have a clearly defined choice of paths that we can take to determine who and what, we truly are, if not what we wish to be.

We as a people, can either strive for the Humanistic Utopia presented by Star Trek, or we can just collectively throw the metaphorical towel in, break out the tire-shoulder-pads, and commit to devoting ourselves to living ala Mad Max style, because those assless chaps aren’t going to wear themselves, now are they? But before we go one way or the other, let me suggest a third option that overall, is far more realistic, and may lie somewhere in between the middle of Paradise and chaining criminals to cars that are about to explode, with the only escape made possible by sawing through one’s ankle.

You know, like we’ve all been forced to do at some point in our lives.

Getting back on track, one of the most wonderful things about the world of science fiction as I noted earlier, is how it holds with a death-grip, the ideals of ever-eternal Hope, even when the situation at hand is presented as desperate at its best. In the “classic” Star Trek, this paradox is embodied by the Starfleet Academy’s cadets training exercise, known as the “Kobayashi Maru”, whose sole purpose is to assess the leadership and character of its participants when they are confronted with a no-win scenario.

Mentioned for the first time in the 1982 film Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, the fictional test uses the plot device of a Starfleet ship responding to a distress call from a disabled civilian ship, the Kobayashi Maru, which has found itself floundered within the Klingon Neutral Zone. The twist is that by entering said zone, the Starfleet ship would be seen by the Klingon High Command to be deliberately triggering an interstellar border confrontation.

 And yes… that would go as well as you might think.

 The crucible moment of this theoretical conflict, manifests itself when the relatively untested cadets must decide whether they should endeavor to save the certainly doomed crew of the Kobayashi Maru, risking their lives and the safety of their vessel, or turn tail, leaving behind a moment of cowardice and the slaughter of innocents that will forever haunt the halls of their consciences for the rest of their lives, This simulated futuristic Hobson’s Choice, forces upon the cadets an unescapable, and more importantly unsurvivable scenario,

In essence, there can never be any solution where the cadets manage to live and fight another day, hence the reason why it’s called a “no-win” scenario, an untenable position that even the extra-dimensional beings known as the  “Q” might avoid altogether, just to avoid any embarrassment regarding it.

 No one has been able to beat or rise above this challenge, Ever.

 xcept… who else? At that time, the cadet named James Tiberius Kirk. You’ve probably heard of him at some point, for as of 2373, Captain James T. Kirk had the biggest file on record with the Department of Temporal Investigations, with no less than seventeen recorded temporal violations. So, how did Kirk beat this infamous and soul-crushing character test?

By showing the very best of his character in regards to the challenge he faced, of course. And all he had to do was simply cheat. Imagine that. In Kirk’s very own words: “I reprogrammed the simulation so that it was possible to save the ship. Changed the conditions of the test… got a commendation for original thinking. I don’t like to lose. I don’t believe in a “no-win” scenario.”

And that boys and girls, is the purest distillation of what makes the human spirit so irrepressible- the belief that no matter what, all can be achieved, regardless of what obstacles have been placed in its path. It’s what sent us out far from our homelands. It’s what made us explore the highest of our mountaintops and the deepest of our seas. It’s what drove us to go the Moon, and then bring a car with us the next time around. And if science fiction is correct, it’s what will make us boldly go where no one has gone before. Count on it. For as glorified monkeys, we’re always happiest when we manage to leave our past accomplishments in the dust, and that will never change.

Surprisingly, leading the charge in the realm of that which is wholly fantastical, is none other than Seth McFarlane, who was initially best known as the creator of the animated series Family Guy and American Dad, whose combined output has steadily provided some of the most provocative if not controversial, low-brow comedy of the last few years. However, McFarlane rose to greater creative heights if not cultural influence, with the 2012 release of his first major motion picture “Ted”, for which he not only lent his voice and motion capture to, but which he co-wrote and directed as well.

The plot revolves around Boston native John Bennett, whose childhood wish brings his teddy bear Ted to life. However, as Bennet matures, his continuing relationship with Ted impedes any progress forward in regards to his future and love life.
Notwithstanding the somewhat uneven range of critical reviews, the film was the 12th highest earning film of that year, and its comparatively small (by Hollywood standards) 50M budget saw a gross return of $549.4M in box-office receipts. This success has led to the formulation of an impressively creative empire that has not only amassed an ever expanding resume comprised of credits for voice-over work, script-writing, acting, and producing for television and film, but one that has extended into video games, and the increasingly diverse market for original online content as well.

Despite a grueling work schedule and the pressure of  having to top oneself, a situation that would make most leave the office on a Tuesday, turn off the lights, and never come back, McFarlane still managed to dig deep and create ,as well as star in, one of the arguably best science-fiction shows of the last three decades, known as The Orville.

[First season cast in order of photo: J. Lee, Halston Sage, Scott Grimes, Seth McFarlane, Adrianne Palecki, Penny Johnson Jerald, Mark Jackson, and Peter Macon.]
Second season cast in order of photo: Peter Macon, Scott Grimes, Penny Johnson Jerald, Seth McFarlane, Adrianne Palecki, J. Lee, Jessica Szohr, and Mark Jackson.]

Set 400 years in the future, The Orville stars MacFarlane as Ed Mercer, the recently-divorced and newly appointed captain to, the USS Orville (ECV-197), a mid-level exploratory space vessel of the Planetary Union, an interstellar alliance of Earth and 300 other planets, which calls to mind Star Trek’s United Federation of Planets, AKA: “The Federation”, which as an inspirational source, McFarlane clearly aspires to respectfully both parody and pay homage to.

The main foundation of the show centers on the crew of the titular spaceship who, while facing the perils and marvels of outer space exploration, also contend with the conversant problems of day-to-day life. Like the iconic franchise that undoubtedly inspired it, the show presents itself as no more than pure entertainment, but in a welcome departure from the standard formula, manages to successfully fuse a far more comedic and humanistic underpinning to its subtly delivered morality tales.

Despite McFarlane’s somewhat deserved past reputation for engaging in raunchiness, the Orville presents on many levels, as a show that’s intended for the demographic who grew up watching McFarlane’s earlier work, and who’s maturing taste now reflects that. Is there some occasional low-brow humor? Most certainly, but even then, it’s a subtle twist on what’s expected. For instance, in S1 Ep.11 (“Lasting Impressions”) a time capsule from the 2015 is opened, revealing an archeological treasure trove of the commonplace, including a cellphone, replete with a full cache of saved texts.

Upon seeing this, the scientist in charge dryly says; “Look at this. She’s clearly asking her friend where to find the nearest repair service for her device. But instead of writing ‘wireless telecommunications facility,’ she just wrote ‘WTF.’ We can decode things like this by applying historical context.” I’ll be discussing some of those further subtleties down this literary road, but if I may, I’d like to call attention to some other personal creative observations first:

One: The production value is amazing. Sets, costumes, the space battles, the ships, and even the alien makeup and effects are big-budget movie quality. No disrespect to ST, albeit Classic or TNG, but this show not only looks great, but it presents as feeling “right” as well. And while the valid comparisons to ST can and will be made, this show still carves out its own unique identity, and stands apart, as a testament to when one is able to mine fresh creativity out of a genre that way too often, depends on the reanimation of cliches, versus taking a gambler’s risk on the New.

 Two: One of my biggest pet peeves whenever I watch anything futuristic or fantastical, is when the demand asked of my suspension of disbelief is so far beyond its logical breaking point, that I’m forced to finally stop watching whatever it is, and get back to reading a good book instead.

An example of this would be every slasher movie moment where a soon-to-be-killed character feels the need for whatever reason, to go casually walking around in the pitch dark basement, woods, or institutional hallway by themselves, right after discovering one of their fellow campers, /students, or previous sexual partners pinned to a wall with a salad fork, rather than just grab the nearest set of car keys and get their dumb asses the hell out of Dodge instead.

Let me be clear in regard to this sort of thing- if you ever find me in this condition, GO GET HELP, FROM SCARY MEN WITH ROCKET LAUNCHERS, instead of waiting around to be the next notch on a killer’s hockey mask. Speaking of which, why would a forest-based killer be wearing a hockey mask in the first place? A paintball shield, I’d understand, but an ice-hockey mask? Yeah, not so much. The point I’m belaboring here is that the blending of character, story-arc, and situational locations is so seamless, that I’ve never had that roadblock in relation to this series at all, as two minutes in, and for almost every show, I’m truly hooked, and I stay that way for the duration of the episode. And for me, that’s quite the rare experience.

 Three: When it comes to an antagonist within a sci-fi setting, I want the baddest bad guys and bad gals you can give me. Imagine Rogue One’s Darth Vader, versus the neutered version of pure whininess offered up to the pyre of mocking in 2005’s dreadful Star Wars: Episode III- Revenge of the Sith. Ironically, the only “revenge” that may result from this piece of overly CG-ied digital egotism is that I ever get George Lucas alone in an elevator, he’s going to cough up the fifteen bucks I paid to see this pile of visual viscera, and that right quick.

I’ll give him a hall pass of sorts for the whole “should have been Wookies but instead all we got was f**king Ewoks” thing, because he didn’t have the budget at the time to do so, but considering he didn’t go back and add them in, like he did those pointless background extras that both stood out like a sore thumb and were completely unnecessary as well in Star Wars The Special Edition, he better throw in an extra ten bucks for the two boxes of Milk Duds I bought as well, now that I come to think of it.

Yes. I loathe Ewoks. How much, you ask if it isn’t already obvious? I hate them so much that I’d empty my checking account to fund a fan-made backyard Godzilla film, if the plot centered around him doing this for an hour and a half:

And nobody’s ever going to convince me otherwise that those creepy bug-eyed piles of rat-fur could have successfully defeated a garrison of heavily armed Stormtroopers using the most basic of stone-age weaponry. At the end of “Empire” we should have a seen a stack of furry corpses so high, that even Tenzing Norgay himself couldn’t scale it. One last thing that comes to mind, is that if Lucas is ever granted the right to go back and re-tweak The Empire Strikes Back, I’d opine that rather than adding an extra Bantha or two, he should remove that whole scene where Leia kisses Luke in the sickbay unit, because it sort of implies that Alderaan was the type of place where the state of your virginity may just rely on your ability to outrun your fastest brother.

My apologies. I was talking about bad guys, and in that regard, The Orville delivers, not once, but twice. The first set of villains, featured in S1 Ep.1: “Old Wounds”, are initially introduced as [SPOILERS!!!] the Planetary Union’s long-term enemies, The Krill, which establishes that they are a threat, but doesn’t flesh-out why this truly is. In fact, their first appearance results in this tense, but still hilarious, repartee between McFarlane’s character and a Krill captain, who is intent on seizing a time-accelerating device, invented by a Union scientist:

Krill Captain: “Give me the device, human, or I will destroy your ship.”
Ed Mercer: “Sorry, can you… can you move, like, two steps to your right?”
Krill Captain: “What?”
Ed Mercer: “Just like a little, t-tiny bit… it’s just a lot of dead space there, just…” [the Krill captain steps to his right] “Yeah, just right th… perfect. Yeah, sorry. You were just very weirdly framed. It was all I could focus on.”

 This is all we really see of the Krill until Ep.6: “Krill”, when what was supposed to be a simple intelligence gathering operation, turns into an impossible moral call that McFarlane’s character is forced to make, despite neither option being virtuously palatable.

Reptilian in appearance, the Krill originate from a planet of the same name, that is located within proximity of the quadrant that encompasses the territories of the Planetary Union. Krill, due to their fanatical conviction that their god known as Avis, who seems closely modeled after the vengeful Christian deity of the Old Testament, demands the annihilation of all other species, on the core belief that they are dually soulless and undeserving of continued existence. This is to be accomplished via the philosophy of “the divine fight”- in essence, an everlasting conflict, targeted at all non-Krill species.

In an earlier discussion of the Krill’s viewpoint towards becoming peaceful allies within the Union, Mercer notes that at one point in their past, the Krill were not nearly as xenophobic as they currently are, and that the radicalization of their culture occurred only after discovering via their own intergalactic exploration, that they were “just one species among a vast diversity of life forms.” Despite the number of violent military interactions between the two groups, the Union still holds out the hope that one day, there will be an everlasting peace between the two civilizations.

The possibility of such arises in S2 Ep.10 “Blood of Patriots”, when the Krill initiate a lak’vai pact, set in motion by the events of S2 Ep.9: “Identity Part II”, where the Krill find themselves [SPOILERS!] fighting alongside the Union against our soon-to-be-named second villain, and while not technically any form of an openly declared ceasefire, it does serve as a mutually agreed resolution of intent to engage in future accord negotiations.

But even with the Krill’s aggressive zealotry underwriting their actions, they still pale in relation to the ruthless efficiency of complete obliteration threatened by baddies number two, The Kaylon, an artificially-created species who are the evolutionary end result of A.I. technology gone horribly awry, and like the Krill, share the mind-set that all other species are inferior. The difference being that the Kaylon ascribe this to a belief that theirs is the superior intellect, rather than a religious conviction.

Despite this oddly parallel shared set of prejudices, there is a single Kaylon character aboard the Orville, serving as a Science and Engineering Officer [SPOILERS!] by the name of Isaac. Allegedly sent by the Kaylon to aid in their collective decision as to whether they should join the Union or not, we later discover Isaac’s true intent behind his living among the crew- to decide whether biological life would be worth preserving. There’s a touch of foreshadowing regarding this in the pilot episode, when the newly-appointed Mercer, who is reviewing the senior officers under his command, has a moment with Isaac:

Mercer: “Aren’t you guys legendarily racist?”
Isaac: “My planet regards humans and other biological life-forms as inferior, if that is your inference.”
Constructed by a now-extinct biological (more on this in a bit) species known only as the “Builders,” the Kaylon race were originally slaves, who were controlled through the use of pain simulators. However, when the Kaylon achieved self-awareness, they rose as one, and massacred their creators, disposing of their corpses in a voluminous cavern under the capital city, a horrifying fact unearthed during the progression of the two-part “Identity” story-arc in episodes 8 & 9 of the second season.

Over the course of time, the Kaylon have come to believe that biological lifeforms were inclined to enslave others, and in a preemptive strike to eradicate this error of intellect, declare war on the Union and all other non-artificial lifeforms, by hijacking the Orville in an opening gambit to gain unrestricted access to Union space without raising the alarm.

Remember that human spirit I mentioned earlier? It’s the combination of that and an unpredicted betrayal that averts the expected outcome, and sets the foundation for the possible Union/Krill alliance that I referenced earlier. However, this outcome itself gets possibly negated later in the 13th episode (“Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow”) of the season, when what appears to be a personal judgement based in kindness, leads to a Butterfly Effect that has disastrous consequences for not only the people directly affected by said choice, but the entire galaxy as well.

This episode, and the one that directly succeeds it, “The Road Not Taken”, offers a truly fresh take on what has become at this point, a reliable, if threadbare, fail-safe science-fiction trope, that being time-travel, utilized almost exclusively over the years, to conceal the evident weaknesses in badly conceptualized storytelling, more often than not.

 This opinion. now excised from my brain, serves as the lead-in for my next observational point, and that concerns what hands down, is the singularly most important facet of any story that is to be offered, whether its final form emerges as a book, film, or in this case, a television series.

 Four: That which is most decisive to the success of any tale, regardless of form as just noted above, boys and girls, is a truly compelling story, that is well-presented, well told, and even more crucial, one that is relatable to the audience that awaits it. Even if they don’t know that they are actually doing so. And in this regard, the Orville delivers consistently. After a fashion of course. By that, I mean when the show first premiered, its potential audience and critics were strongly divided as to what direction McFarlane’s vision would take- would it be sophomoric pablum, or a refined self-referential parody of all that had inspired it? 

It turns out that in the beginning, it was a little of both, until the show came upon in equal measure, its voice and its footing. And while the first few shows took some time to discover these essential qualities, the one thing that was firmly evident and locked in place since the pilot episode, was the personal chemistry between its main characters. Even more impressive, from my writer’s POV, was the fact that the story-arcs establishing such were presented right upfront from the get-go.

Regardless of who your favorite character may be, the actors who portray them have all been given free rein to vividly breathe life into their small-screen avatars, which in turn, strengthened the stories that were laid out for our entertainment. This creative license given so freely to the ensemble cast, has resulted in The Orville’s motley crew coming off less as stereotypical archetypes, and bestowing far more realistically, the sense that these are real people whom we all might share something in common with.

Whether the situation presented is being forced to work side-by-side with your badly-ended ex, as is the case with Ed Mercer and his First Lieutenant / Ex-wife Kelly Grayson, played by actress Adrianne Palecki, or the tribulations of being a Union starship medical officer while also raising two sons as a single mom, as personified by actress Penny Johnson Jerald in the role of Dr. Claire Finn, who at one point in the series [SPOILERS!!] engages in a romantic relationship with the Kaylon character of Isaac, with somewhat unforeseen consequences resulting from their attempt at a normal relationship.

Other standout performances of note are actors Mark Jackson as Isaac, the aforementioned AI lifeform serving alongside an intellectually inferior species whose ways he doesn’t fully understand, Peter Macon as Lt. Cmdr. Bortus, a member of the all-male species the Moclan, trying to balance both career and his marriage,  J. Lee as John LaMarr, the Orville’s initial Navigator and later on, its Chief Engineer after his intellectual capabilities are discovered to be off the charts, Scott Grimes as Lieutenant Gordon Malloy, the Orville’s ace helmsman and captain Ed Mercer’s best friend, who despite his excellence as a pilot, has somewhat of a checkered past because he, and I quote: “once drew a penis on the main viewing screen of outpost T85.”

Rounding out the first season cast, actress Halston Sage portrayed Security Chief Alara Kitan, who serves in the Union against her family’s wishes, and thanks to the high gravity of her native planet Xelaya, possesses increased endurance and strength capabilities.

 Sage left the show in the middle of season two, and despite being replaced with actress Jessica Szohr, cast in the role of the Orville’s new Security Chief Talla Keyali, Sage returned in a brief cameo appearance for the season-ending episode mentioned earlier, “The Road Not Taken”, so perceptibly, her abrupt departure wasn’t due to any interpersonal conflict, and therefore, a possible return to the show may still be possible. Still open dialogue, and all that. Regarding which, it’s the repartee between the characters on this show that I really appreciate the most, because the show never fails to make you feel the validity of these characters existing as actual living entities, versus phoned-in plot devices.

One of the banes of sci-fi themed entertainment in my opinion, is an overly dependent reliance on the spouting of faux-scientific-mumbo-jumbo in order to sell us all on the snake-oil that we are all indeed, gazing into “THE FUTURE”, a literary gimmick which I’ve always felt, is the worst form of lazy pretentiousness. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love being able to accurately quote geek jargon such as the Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear from Dune, which goes: “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

Sure, that’s a cool soliloquy, and extremely useful when trying to pick up morally relaxed Fremen girls, but who in the H-E double hockey sticks actually talks like that?
Nobody worth paying attention to,, that’s who. How the dialogue between characters is approached and handled, is one of the critical factors in determining whether or not a story successfully connects with its intended audience,  and many a good tale has been ruined by a poorly constructed interchange between the principal characters within it.

For example, I present this monologue from one of the worst movies ever made, “Plan 9 From Outer Space”, a waste of celluloid so ineptly written, that I’d rather watch “Highlander 2 The Renegade Cut” on perpetual loop for the rest of my life, rather than ever hear the following example of excruciatingly incompetent wordplay ever again:

“Greetings, my friend. We are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives. And remember my friend, future events such as these will affect you in the future. You are interested in the unknown… the mysterious. The unexplainable. That is why you are here. And now, for the first time, we are bringing to you, the full story of what happened on that fateful day. We are bringing you all the evidence, based only on the secret testimony, of the miserable souls, who survived this terrifying ordeal. The incidents, the places. My friend, we cannot keep this a secret any longer. Let us punish the guilty. Let us reward the innocent. My friend, can your heart stand the shocking facts of grave robbers from outer space?”

Yes. An actual person really did write this, and was so proud of it, that they then showed it to other people, who in turn, felt personally compelled to not only fund its production, but also wanted to star in the finished product as well. Now, for all of my bagging on this prime example of how NOT to make a movie, it does serve as an excellent example of how also not to tell a story as well. As I implied above, if you want people to be engaged with what you’re trying to say, you have to say it in such a way that they not only understand it, but can relate to what the character is going through in the first place.

People don’t idolize a favorite character just because they slot nicely into some homogenous descriptive of being “cool”, they do so because for them, a connection to that character has been made, and most of the time, it’s because they can put themselves in their boots, as it were. Or hooves. We don’t judge here.

The point being that dialogue establishes not only the world around a character, but adds gravitas to the character themselves, and without it, they might as well be a cardboard cutout of Boba Fett, because seriously- what did that guy do in those two movies, except look cool and eventually get eaten by the Sarlacc, due to his literally flying into a ship, and then falling into its open maw like an Hors d’oeuvre? A set of circumstances which does not impress me, and most certainly, should not impress you, either.

However, McFarlane’s mission is seemingly not to impress, but to remind us all how a good story flows like mercury on Teflon when the utmost attention is given to how its protagonists interact, which provides a glimpse into the inner workings of a character’s inherent motivations and foibles.

McFarlane’s Captain Ed Mercer doesn’t possess the swagger of the iconic James T. Kirk as we might expect, due to McFarlane’s prominent influence as both a writer and the principal lead of the show, instead, he’s conscientious of his duty to the Union, prone to consistent acts of second-guessing himself at times, and faces challenges to his command that sometimes make me wonder if Kirk himself could find a resolution to them. Not to mention, the challenges of working alongside Palecki’s character Lt. Kelly Grayson, the ex-wife with whom he obviously is still very much in love with, a state of affairs that appears to be quite mutual.

It’s apparent from the pilot episode that Grayson is still very much in Ed’s corner, both out of her continued feelings for him and her sense of guilt for her role in the dissolution of their marriage, and despite the awkward tension prevalent within their professional relationship, she still believes in him and his ability to command nonetheless, even when he himself does not share that faith himself. This is established in the pivotal “The Road Not Taken” episode when after making first contact with Ed, and informing him of the present that was supposed to be, including the failure of their marriage, tells him how the battle for Earth [SPOILERS!!!] against the Kaylons in the original timeline was supposed to end:

Grayson: “Because you were captain, the Kaylon were defeated.”

Mercer: “Because I was captain?”
Grayson: “Yes.”
Mercer: “I stopped the Kaylon?”
Grayson: “Right.”
Mercer: “I had to swim with my shirt on until I was twenty.”

However, within this very same episode, there’s a romantic interlude between Mercer and Grayson that given what we’ve been shown previously in respects to their past relationship, helps cast some further light upon the depth of their somewhat complicated relationship, irrespective of the events of the altered timeline, and it’s moments like these where McFarlane shows unexpected complexity and maturity regarding the development of the characters under his creative command:

Grayson: “Am I a terrible person that part of me wants this timeline to continue?”
Mercer: “You’re asking the wrong guy.”
Grayson: “In the middle of this nightmare universe, I’ve felt this weird sense of comfort being with you.”
Mercer: “Well, maybe we’ll fail.”
Grayson: “Have to go find someplace to live in secret.”
Mercer; “Some nice little house on a deserted planet.”
Grayson: “We could have a couple kids…boy and a girl.”
Mercer: “We’d have to learn how to farm, how to cook.”
Grayson: “Look at the sunset every night.”
Mercer: “…Look at you every morning.”

In no way, shape, or gelatinous form, would I ever label myself as a romantic, but if this brief moment of pure tenderness between two pivotal characters doesn’t kick you in the heart, then you are dead to me. Dead, I tell you. But if this beautifully written aside doesn’t get you right in the feels in the first place, then the odds are pretty good that you’ve been one of the departed for quite some time, and the people around you have been way too polite in not pointing this fact out.

I earlier referenced how sci-fi leans far too heavily sometimes on the threadbare tropes rife within its genre, and this exchange could have easily collapsed into that land of entrapment in the hands of a far less creative writer, but The Orville manages to pull it off without falling prey to the use of utopian treacle, a fact I truly admire as both a fanboy and writer myself. It’s a natural temptation for a writer to want to give the masses the expected happy ending, neatly wrapped up at the end of the show with a large bow, and call it done, but delightedly, The Orville doesn’t do that.

As we all know, Life is messy. Inconvenient at best. And full of both Pathos and Joy. Problems of the heart and the conscience aren’t handled cleanly in a 45-minute time span, and there’s no hard-set guarantee that every resolution will be classified as a winning stratagem in the end. Life and all of its components, demands a toll in the end, and this show recognizes that, far better than most.

Although it would be perfectly acceptable if not expected, to handle the interpersonal relationships on the show using all the creativity of a cookie-cutter, The Orville adroitly avoids this culturally palatable honeytrap by granting us the opportunity to really bond with its protagonists by making us feel personally vested in how the characters’ story-arcs rectify themselves. Whether it’s the heartache of watching Gordon fall in love with a generated hologram of a woman that’s been dead for 400 years, as presented in S1 Ep.11: “Lasting Impressions”,

or coming along for the utterly terrifying ride as Alara goes to extreme lengths to overcome a crippling deep-seated fear, as she successfully does in S1 Ep.10: “Firestorm”,

the show never fails in its objective to set the impression that we’re privileged enough to be watching these characters lives progress, albeit from the safety of whatever device we’re doing it from. And that my loyal readers, is how as a writer, you give life to what is inscribed. You make it both compelling and relatable, as I previously noted.

While much has been critically babbled regarding McFarlane’s not so subtle homage to his obvious inspirational wellspring, that being the optimistically humanistic Star Trek, created by the late Gene Roddenberry, it should be noted that once the awkward crawling toddler phase of the Orville’s launch had passed, it found it’s own voice and started tackling controversial topics in a way that due to the societal purposeful constraints of the time, that ST could not.

When viewed side by side, Orville has the ability to (pardon the cultural reference) approach topics at warp-speed, that would have gotten ST at its height of popularity, either heavily censored, or canceled outright.

In its two seasons thus far, the show has, using the ethereal shroud of entertainment as its guise, tackled the following sensitive topics: dealing with the fallout of adultery, taking charge when you don’t believe in your own ability to do so, the amorality of animal captivity, transgender rights, the birthright to one’s body autonomy, the danger inherent within unchecked religious zealotry, being forced to turn a mission of peace into an act of deadly sabotage in order to save the innocent lives of hundreds of thousands, the dangers that lie with relying on the power of social media to gauge how a society should govern itself, and the struggles of trying to balance a career and a healthy relationship.

 There’s a story regarding the age-old struggle of trying to win the approval and respect of your parents, coping with an emotional betrayal from someone you wholly trusted, the inanity of planning Life’s decisions based on the pitiful faux-science of astrology, a clever twist in regards to the decision of accepting who you truly are, which in turn, sets up a story of revolution with an angle that reminds one of the ongoing Palestine conflict, and the paradoxical question of what might be at risk if you were granted the foresight to see all of your future mistakes before they occur.

Not to mention, and I swear I’m not making this up, the unforeseen consequences of when one suffers from a severe case of holographic porn addiction. All I can say after watching all of this being laid out as if it were a banquet, is eat your heart out Star Trek, because McFarlane and his crew just dropped the tricorder, picked up a Bat’leth, and spanked you with it as if you were a Catullan.

Granted, this attitude comes from a place of love and respect of course, because in order to become a Master in your own right, you must first conquer the lands where your heroes reside, or their respective galaxies. Either/or. I’m just hoping McFarlane got all of his product licensing legalities squared away cleanly, because I’ve heard that the Orville Redenbacher crew can put you in a world of salty hurt, if you make the fatal mistake of double-crossing these buttered bad-boys.

Don’t let that friendly smile and bow tie fool you- this man was a real OP. Original Popper, that is. And you don’t know what badass is until you’ve been jacked up by somebody that The New York Times once described as “the agricultural visionary who all but single-handedly revolutionized the American popcorn industry.” I’m pretty sure if you cross these people, you’ll wake up with the head of Mr. Pringles in your bed, and Lord knows, nobody wants that. Even if it does taste like Ranch.
Now, as a fan of both ST and The Orville, I do wonder if it will ever achieve the same cultural impact over time that Star Trek once had, and which now if anything, seems to be going into that golden light as the first two generations of its core base join an aging demographic that has moved on to other forms of entertainment, if they haven’t passed on to Sto’Vo’Kor, just yet .

So, just for the sake of random argument, what do you think it’s long-term influence will be? Will its initial success spin off into several stand-alone movies of which only the even-numbered ones  will be any good, and in which, the characters we’ve come to love will be dressed as if they were Floridian swingers, like the first ST movie did,

or will there be a run of television series starting off with that eras Patrick Stewart, only to sadly jump the holographic shark with that eras Scott Bakula? Who in this photo, let’s face it, is far more interesting than the entire run of the show ever was.
One can only hope that if this vision of the Future ever comes to fruition, McFarlane learns from the mistakes of the past- no velour jumpsuits, hire a competent editor, buy a far better toupee than Shatner’s if necessary, don’t hire Kirstie Alley for any reason, whether it’s based in nostalgia or sympathy, and most certainly, skip all the odd numbered movies by saying they’ve already been made, and fell into the event horizon of a black hole. Trust me Seth, it’s science-fiction. No one will bother to check your math, if you manage to throw in a few Krill hotties moon-bathing in the background.


Just a creative suggestion on my part, a gift from me to you. And no, you don’t even have to thank me. All I might ask for is a small three-line walk-on part where my ass gets positively checked out by Grayson, and I’ll happily call it as all good.

Although I’d nicely request that she do so a little less bemusedly as she’s doing above. Not to sound ungrateful, but If I’m walking around in the Future being checked out by a prime Union star-babe, I’d like to come off as all badass. Not in the manner of a full-on space-Goth, but the wardrobe and makeup should be pretty damn close to vampirish. I have some additional notes, but they’ll keep until we do lunch. Someplace nice. With cloth napkins, no attached wheels, and most definitely, no cartoon mascot out front. And yes, I will work for scale, but my Per diem must cover the cost of a fridge in my trailer to chill my always stocked supply of Ding-Dongs.
Have your people call my imaginary people Seth, and we’ll work out the details for my cameo and close-ups. 

For those of you think that I’m prematurely waxing poetic about a show that has yet to truly prove itself, I see your point, and to a limited degree, can make a semblance of peace with it. However, I would counter with a personal opinion, based on nothing more than a gut feeling and the love that only a geeky sci-fi fan-boy (or fan-girl) can possess. There are many things people currently require currently at this moment, being one of the darkest chapters in American history. Not only are we still enmired in the fight for civil rights, albeit for minorities or the LGBQT community, we find ourselves battling as well and that, literally in the streets, against a disturbingly increasing fascist government and the complicit enablers who, with their willing support, embolden those in power past the pale of all insanity.

No matter where you may stand politically, I think we can all agree that it would be nice to have both a functioning government that responds to the need of its citizens, guided by a human-colored leader who doesn’t tweet about dishwasher water pressure and soup. That is of course when he’s not masturbating his ego and pushing conspiracy theories so ludicrously implausible that even L. Ron Hubbard would tell him to “put down the pipe”. And this is where I draw parallels between the Orville and its obvious role model, the iconic Star Trek.

When ST aired in September of 1966, the US was in roughly the same state we find ourselves in at present: riots and protests in regards to civil rights and the Vietnam War, an over-privileged ruling class that saw no issue with the income equality, misogyny, and systematical racism of the age that benefited them alone, and as is now, a government that used brutal and repressive tactics against its own citizens in its failed attempt to forego any form of everlasting societal restructuring. 

And in the midst of all this chaos, as if answering a clarion call, came Star Trek, a show where what kind of person you were was far more relevant to society than what you owned or how famous you might be. A slightly flawed vision of a Utopian society, ST nonetheless, challenged both the cultural norms and the constraints of its time to deliver a message of Hope and Unity to its audience, very much in the same way that the Orville currently does now. And just like its influenced spawn, ST did its best to offer a balanced commentary, if not a possible solution, to the ills plaguing society- sometimes with aplomb, and sometimes, with all the subtlety of a fleet of Mack trucks running down the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

“Let That Be Your Last Battlefield”, anybody?

Not that I condone driving through a choir comprised of in-tune Mormons, mind you. It’s just that I get really nervous whenever I see large groups of mostly white people wearing the same robes and singing songs about how awesome whatever they believe in is. There’s kind of a track history in this country regarding this sort of thing, and its not always for the better.

What set Trek truly apart however, was building on the formula that Rod Serling had pioneered with The Twilight Zone during its five-year run from 1959-1964, by “safely” discussing the prevalent issues of the day by presenting them as entertainment, and taking it one step further. In this case, literally into outer space, where instead of tackling stories set in ever-changing time periods and surroundings, as the Twilight Zone did, the series centered around a consistent cast of characters grounded to what became an iconic character itself, that being the USS Enterprise, which was essential in some fashion, to almost every tale that was spun.

No matter the tone of the story, be it serious: “The City on the Edge of Forever”,

or deliberately played for laughs: “The Trouble with Tribbles”,
ST had one nucleus that never altered or was watered down- the sense of diversity that defined the cast, as well as the fictional Federation of United Planets, in which they served with passionate distinction. Much has been rightfully noted about ST being the home of the first interracial kiss on TV between Kirk and Uhura, but ST’s best legacy is that it depicted a far better universe than what we’ve been currently inhabiting these days. In the world of ST, Hope just isn’t the pseudonym of an independent erotic dancing contractor, it’s what truly binds the Federation together.

And in the Orville, there’s a callback to that in S2 Ep.4: “Nothing Left on Earth Excepting Fishes”, in which [SPOILERS!!!} Ed finds out that his relationship with introduced character Lt. Janel Tyler, played by actress Michaela McManus;

in actuality, is no more than a clever military ruse orchestrated by the Krill spy Teleya, (also played by McManus) a character introduced to us in S1 Ep.6: “Krill”, who was originally, a schoolteacher whose brother was killed by Ed and Gordon prior to Ed’s having to make the moral call of killing her crew in order to save an innocent colony targeted by the Krill, in an act of genocidal elimination.

Teleya coldly explains to Ed the reason why she was willing to go to such lengths to entrap him, despite the budding romance that was seemingly developing between them, is the fact that due to his actions, he altered her life and is the one most directly responsible for turning her into a soldier, justifying it all by saying; “The Anhkana teaches that that which is not of Krill is without soul. The truth of those words was reinforced when the Union killed my brother.”

The official motive however, versus the understandable one of personal revenge, is to force Ed to surrender by any means necessary, the Union’s access codes he carries, thereby eliminating the Union’s tactical advantage if and when the Krill choose to attack the Union directly. The plot takes yet another emotional twist, when due to the intervention of an unforeseen attack by a species called the Chak’tal, Ed and Teleya find themselves stranded on a remote planet after barely escaping the eventually destroyed Krill ship.

What makes this plot twist notable for me however, is not only does Teleya come to accept that in order to survive, she and Ed must become reluctant allies, but that in spite of her betrayal and regardless of her species, he still retains his feelings for her character, which are clearly revealed in this exchange:

Mercer: “I know fear when I see it. You’re afraid to accept the fact that your superiority may just be a comforting myth.”

Teleya: “Who are you to lecture me about myths? You fell in love with a woman who did not exist.”
Mercer: “You know what? She did exist. For me, anyway. And I think that there is a lot more of her in you than you’re willing to admit. And if she is in there somewhere, tell her… tell her I miss her.”

However, the possibility is implied that in deference to her stated mission and protestations, Teleya may have some residual feelings for him as well. This is addressed when Ed, who is being held as a prisoner in a cave out of the sight of the Chak’tal who are combing the area looking for them by Teleya, announces that he is going to grab some sleep:

Mercer: “I’m gonna get some sleep.”
Teleya: “Lie on your side.”
Mercer: “What?”
Teleya: “When you sleep on your back, you snore… It is irritating.” [SIGHS]

After being rescued by Gordon and Bortus during a brief but intense firefight with the Chak’tal, Teleya is detained under the custody of the Union, until Ed makes the command decision to release her back to her own people, a conclusion that Grayson strongly disagrees with:

Grayson: “I want to go on record here: this is not right.”
Mercer: “Well, we’ll find out.”
Grayson: “Ed, she impersonated a Union officer, she abducted you, and she could’ve killed you.”
Mercer: “I’m alive now.”
Grayson: “That does not change the fact that she’s an enemy combatant.” This is for the admiralty to decide. You do not have the authority.”
Mercer: “Objection noted.”
Grayson: “You could be court-martialed.”
Mercer: “Noted.”

As the Krill ship arrives, Ed has one last aside with Janel/Teleya that perfectly encapsulates that while he truly believes that Hope just may be a specific trait as to where the human species is concerned, he’s also just as confident that the diverse species of the galaxy may, at some point, fall before its influence, even if for some of them, their very nature is to attack first, and ask absolutely no questions later.

Teleya: “If you believe releasing me will somehow improve relations between our people, you are indulging another fantasy.”
Mercer: “Defect of my species. We never give up hope. Just do me a favor, okay? Take a message back to your people: we can keep fighting each other, or we can talk.”
Teleya: “Very well.”
Mercer: “Oh. This is for you.”
Teleya; “What is it?”
Mercer: “Best of Billy Joel. And… if you ever get the itch to do movie night again, you know where to find me.”

The scene ends with Ed looking out a window as the Krill ship departs for its home-world, a somber moment underscored by Billy Joel’s “She’s Always a Woman ”, a song from 1977 that in the wrong creative hands, could have easily devolved into the hokey or overly saccharine, but it plays us off as very real, and just a touch painful, if one is to be honest. We’ve all been betrayed by someone we trusted at least once in our lives, so hopefully your experience wasn’t along the lines of “I was kidnapped by a bio-transformed Reptilian warrior bent on committing genocide against my species” kind of thing, but hey, there’s different strokes for different folks, I guess.

The definition of Hope is described within the Cambridge Dictionary as thus: “To want something to happen or to be true, and usually have a good reason to think that it might.” And that in my opinion, is what sets the Orville apart from most of its sci-fi contemporaries, by espousing a belief that given the options,

Mankind will always strive, even if it is done so begrudgingly, to do its best for the good of all, whether they deserve that understanding or not. And this in itself, is seemingly the message that the Orville reminds us that we all need to remember, especially in these, the darkest days we’ve faced as a country and as a people- that unity and diversity will always be stronger than those who traffic in hate and the mongering of fear, and that no matter what adversity we may face, we’ll only manage to kick its collective ass if we do it together as one.

 “A story only matters, I suspect, to the extent that the people in the story change.”- Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane


Hatetriot Lames Pt.4 (Ken you feel the love, too White?)

“If all men are made in God’s reflection, then why do some people continue to acknowledge only what is in their part of the mirror? If every man was created equal and in the image of God, then how can any man claim that one race is better than another?” – Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

 Hello Blogiteers!

How are you today? Happy? Hungry? Harried? Horrified? Consumed with Racist Hate, perhaps? Hopefully, it’s the first, and not the rest or hindmost, as it’s usually reserved for people allegedly cursed with an exceedingly limited humanity and intellect. This, as I noted in my previous screed, is one of the most abominable moral failures that sadly, Mankind has yet to eradicate. But even given the collective failure to excise this cancer from the world, we can still call it out, by casting the harshest of light on some of its most dedicated tiki-torchbearers.

This ties into the second half of my previous blogvella regarding some locally grown bigoted inanity, put on display for all to see by a person with a “broner” so rock hard for BLM and other racially sensitive issues, that an Etruscan shrew could use it as a chin-up bar.However, if you’re also wondering why I find myself yet again slogging through this fetid wasteland of a person’s psyche, it’s only because there’s still so much literary treasure just laying around, right in sight, and ripe for the snarking.

 As I’ve noted more than once, I love it when others do the heavy lifting, but I’m ever so grateful when they also decide to take it upon themselves to install all the terrazzo tile too. The least I can do in response to that I think, is to give them all the credit that they’ve truly earned. Because at my core, I like to think I’m a people person, if that fact hasn’t been made clear yet. And when I say people, I mean ALL PEOPLE, not just the ones that match my skin and political tone.

What I can’t and steadfastly refuse to abide, is those who are infused with idiocy, and who attempt to infect others with their particularly virulent strain of abominable belief. You want to hold on to the erroneous resolve that Ding Dongs are not the premier snack cake, that’s fine. We all can cling to our valued myths and incorrect valuations, as the children of Odin are apt to do, but my socially-imposed sense of civility goes right out the window when the main opinion that is offered up is such as this bigoted beauty, supposedly uttered by our hopefully soon to be replaced President, Donald J. Trump.

The alleged owner of a mushroom-dick, our national pariah once stated to author and his former president of Trump Plaza Hotel & Casino, John R. O’Donnell: “I have black guys counting my money… I hate it, the only guys I want counting my money are short guys that wear yarmulkes all day. Laziness is a trait in blacks. It really is, I believe that.” It’s amazing how without even trying, he manages to score a prejudicial hat trick, albeit one that’s obviously red, and previously made in China.

I’ll admit, even I’m impressed- racism, ant-Semitism, and heightism in one concisely ignorant statement? Well done, my ever so repugnant Donny Dickless. Given such progressive thinking like that, I seriously have to question why the world at large assumes he’s a racist. A mystery for the ages, I guess. For as the popular meme states; “Donald Trump may not be a NAZI, but the NAZIs sure think he is.”

An assertion that with every vulgarity he foists upon us, causes most intellectually functioning Americans to wonder if he really does want their membership discount card and complimentary logo-emblazoned wife-beater, replete with matching hood, regardless of what he blathers. And to be fair, he does blather quite a lot, regardless of whether it’s appropriate to the situation or not, and more often than not, he’s probably lying when he does it. 

Oh, who am I kidding? He never stops lying. I’m not even sure if he knows how, quite honestly. Not that his base of cud-chewing lobotomized sheep care, if I were to state that which is fairly obvious. More than willing to sacrifice themselves on his Pyre of Pustulence, these walking intellectual voids survive and thrive on a steadily-fed diet of unfounded paranoia, acts of despicable victimization, xenophobia, and a sense of pride so strong in regards to their willing ignorance, it could easily qualify as religious faith.

To be fair, the cult of personality is an ages-old cultural phenomenon stretching back to the beginning of time, and if you need proof of this, just look at the fan club Jesus still has, and he’s nothing but a myth, Seriously. He hasn’t released anything new in forever, and he still gets treated like a top-shelf VIP?

Obviously, he must have the dirt on everybody. All that aside, it’s been a bad year for America and the world in general, and most of it can be laid at the imaginary bone-spurred hooves of our resident Liar-in-Chief, and the closest we have to a human analog for barely sentient Pumpkin Spice, Donald J. Trump. No matter the vileness of what he says, does, implies, or represents, his Heaven’s Gate cosplaying cult swallows it wholesale, without so much as a second or even a first, thought.

Actually, I take some of that back. Heaven’s Gate seems almost less insane, and it was once a San Diego based UFO cult, that committed mass suicide by ingesting poisoned applesauce(!) washed down with Vodka, over their collective belief that by doing so, they would find themselves brought aboard an extraterrestrial spacecraft that was following behind the Hale-Bopp Comet. The bodies of the thirty-nine persons were discovered by authorities (via an anonymous 9-11 call) identically dressed in black shirts and sweat pants, brand new black-and-white Nike Decades athletic shoes, wearing armband patches reading “Heaven’s Gate Away Team”, which just goes to prove the old maxim: once a Star Trek fan, always a Star Trek fan.

Despite this flippant observation of mine, this was truly tragic, as actress Nichelle Nichols, best known for her role as Uhura in the original Star Trek television series, sadly lost her brother Thomas to this abhorrent delusion. Prior to the mass suicide, the Heaven’s gate website posted this final message: “Hale-Bopp brings closure to Heaven’s Gate … Our 22 years of classroom here on planet Earth is finally coming to conclusion- ‘graduation’ from the Human Evolutionary Level. We are happily prepared to leave ‘this world’ and go with Ti’s crew.” Could this horrific event of mass psychosis be uncharitably described as “bats**t crazy”? Most certainly. Is it really minus the fashion cues and hopefully expected final destination, really that much askew from what the Trumpanzees believe? Not by much. If I were to be so blunt.

If one chooses to wade through the innumerable morass of mentally deficient mire masquerading as website pages lauding their Larded Lord, you’ll note that his faux-Christian followers will screech to the sky about his supposed faith, never minding the blatant contradictions that stand far and away from the outside lines of actual reality. Let me tell you, there ain’t no hate like Christian love. This faction of facetious Evangelicals will tell you that he was chosen by God to “save this cursed nation”, despite his consistent violations of the Ten Commandments, which it seems is only applied to the people they don’t like. Which, if taken in order, lists as thus:

ONE: “Thou shalt have no other gods before me” He only worships himself. Thw gut with the best brain,  words, education, and normal-sized hands. TWO: “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image”
He has to have his name on everything, and naturally, emblazoned in gold, the hue of the infamously blasphemous Calf, no less. Not to mention, he has dozens of portraits of himself. THREE: “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain” He uses the word “Godd**n” more than I do, and I use it a lot.

FOUR: “Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy” He spends every Sunday golfing on our dime, rather than going to any church, unless it’s for a begrudging funeral visit or one of his embarrassingly transparent photo-ops. FIVE: “Honor thy Father and thy Mother.” He hardly ever mentions his parents, which just reinforces my belief he was summoned from Hell, rather than spawned from a human coupling combining flop sweat, Tequila, and a pre-nuptial agreement.  SIX: Thou shalt not kill”  200 hundred-thousand (plus) dead Americans thus far, anyone? 

SEVEN: “Thou shalt not commit adultery” Do I REALLY have to address this?  Because honestly, I shouldn’t really have to, given the rate this occurs with him. EIGHT: “Thou shalt not steal” This applies to girlfriends, money owed to employees and contractors, 9-11 funds to help small businesses, and in his case, most definitely the credit for anything good that Obama accomplished previously.  NINE: “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor” Or to be more specific- political rivals, the alleged victims of his sexual assaults, veterans, the poor, immigrants, whistleblowers, former and current advisors, aides, donors, supporters, friends, doctors, medical professionals, science, scientists, sexual partners, the Free Press, and reality.

And finally,  TEN: “Thou shalt not covet” Including, but not limited to; uninterested women, other people’s property and goods, bragging rights about having NYC’s tallest building since the Towers fell, the credit for things you have not done or will do, and slavish worship for him  sitting on his fat ass and doing nothing to stop the spread of a highly contagious plague.

Granted, this tableau of hypocrisy as set by the disingenuous followers of a false God albeit Jesus or Trump, is truly repugnant, but it pales in all equal comparison as to the Orwellian doublethink his so-called “true compatriot” and “Q” fan club base are willing to hold inside those frighteningly empty maracas they call skulls.

To note; He’s the “patriot” who fraudulently dodged the draft five times and is so indebted to Russia, that he refuses to call them out for putting bounties on the heads of our soldiers. And I won’t even begin to list his slurs and disrespect directed at our honored war dead and Gold Star families. He’s the model of the “successful businessman” despite being legally involved in no less than 3.500 cases, ranging from allegations of fraud to unpaid loans and bills, as well as refusing to release his taxes and bank records, despite his numerous claims that he would. 

Factor in the swiftly crashing economy, and I think it’s a safe bet he always lost at Monopoly and Risk as a kid. He’s the “good father and doting husband” who’s also been married three times, two of those shams being to former mistresses, and who cuts checks to pornstars so they’ll f**k him, since his current wife won’t. And despite having no less than ten grandchildren, I have yet to see a single photo of him with any of them, which is somewhat odd, considering cute kids tend to be awesome props for most politicians.

 Hilariously, the disciples of the “Q” movement maintain that he’s the “only President” to ever take a stand against child trafficking, yet five well-known pedophiles have been solidly linked to his inner and intimate circle. And when it comes to his relationship with his daughter/side girl Ivanka, all I can say is WTF is that about, because I don’t recall my sister ever willingly doing a lap-dance for my dad,

There’s also the fact that despite two court orders to reunite them with their families, immigrant children are still dying in cages and being openly abused within ICE’s aspiring concentration camps. Forced hysterectomies, anyone? Because that’s an actual thing too. Not to mention… the man doesn’t even own a dog. And no, his son Eric doesn’t count.

But yet, his sociopathic core demographic remains loyal to a fault, no matter what evidence comes to light. For if he spews it, they’ll chew it. Their previous excuse for his massive character flaws used to be that “He’s not a politician”, as if being a walking venereal disease was a perfectly normal thing, but since they can’t even begin to defend his vulgarity, fraud, and cowardice, with a straight face any longer, they’ve now shifted to saying “I didn’t hire him to be nice, I hired him to get the job done.” 

If so, I’m positive it comes as a surprise to all of us that the job they wanted done entailed crashing the economy, embarrassing us on the world stage, debasing our once noble and strong democracy, deriding the Free Press as “the enemy of the people”, and as an unforeseen aside, helping kill through his sheer incompetence, over 200,000 of their fellow Americans.  Mission accomplished, so can the last person out the door remember to turn off the light inside the Statue of Liberty?

But yet, their loyalty remains as difficult to crack open as an Adamantium coconut, nestled between the legs of a Utah virgin. Don’t get me wrong, I admire loyalty, as it’s in very short supply these days, but JFC, couldn’t these pinheads of pussitude have chosen a far less embarrassing demagogue to blindly follow? You’ve got choices, people- Satan is always an excellent fallback, as not only does he have the best tunes, but the largest hot tub you’ve ever seen, and you just know the demon-women hanging out in it will be, no pun intended, smoking hot:
Sadly however, the company you’ll be forced to keep though, will leave much to be desired. Sure, I might wind up there due to the circumstances surrounding my infamous 1993 Mardi Gras trip to New Orleans, but that’s truly nothing compared to trying to cohabitate peacefully with these red-hatted troglodytes on this increasingly f**ked-up ball of compressed space dust.

This of course, brings me back round to finishing up a tale I started telling in my last screed, centered around a person whom if I ever found myself trapped in an elevator with, would cause me to pretend I didn’t know any English. This minor deception serving both as a way to stifle what would most certainly be at best, an awkwardly forced conversation, and as a means to irritate his allegedly inherent and vile tendency towards being racist.

Just because I’m confined in a small metal box with a living example of what happens when you leave an impressionable child alone with a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird, and he takes the wrong lesson to heart, doesn’t mean I can’t create my own entertainment, now does it? Of course, it doesn’t. And who’s to say what is and what isn’t good wholesome fun for the entire family? It surely isn’t going to be me, for one.

So, without any further ado, let me reintroduce today’s previously used as a scratching post guest, a man who most likely refuses to shop on Black Friday because he truly believes that all Fridays matter, and who regards mayonnaise as not only a tasty condiment, but as a role model, and is most certainly, a person who won’t be attending or bringing his world-famous Vanilla cookies with its Whites-only icing to any upcoming BLM meetings anytime soon, the one, the only… MR. KEN CYKALA!!! 

[A cricket chirps. In the distance, a lone tumbleweed rolls by. Somewhere in the distance, a dog snores…]

 Sigh… we’ve talked about this, my loyal Blogiteers. No matter who finds themselves to be in the metaphorical gun-sights of this here Artbitch, we still treat them with a modicum of respect. After all, without them, who would serve as both my subject and inadvertent entertainment for you? See, you didn’t think of that, did you? Now, apologize to Ken for not valuing his serving as a bad example for the rest of us, the people who actually regard our fellow humans as worthy of dignity and respect.

Those two attributes however, are the first sacrifices ken made when he allegedly bought a first-class ticket to be a no-class racist aboard the Prejudice Express, an archaic and shabby train that no matter how much of its track gets ripped up, still manages to make regular stops in this country, most typically where any White person gets upset seeing African-Americans just going about their daily business. As if they have the right to do so. Oh, wait… THEY DO.

And no, Ken, you can’t speak to the manager, the cops, or even the hand, but the middle finger is more than happy to give you instructions on where to go. You know, very much in the manner of how you ignore reality, statistics, empirical evidence, and the basic understanding of why racial diversity is not only awesome, but crucial to maintaining a well-balanced society. But let’s be honest here Ken, you don’t want a racially harmonious Utopia, because your vision of what that represents is horrifying, at best.

 As noted in the last screed, you don’t want peace and justice in relation to the people whose point of view you find abominable, you just want them subservient to the concepts of indoctrination, control, and most important to you and your ilk- their silence. If the Republicans ever somehow managed to put forth their retooled version of the Great Society imitative proposed during the Lyndon Johnson era, the term “dystopian apocalypse” would still be far too mild to serve as an accurate descriptive.

Because for all their doubletalk of inclusivity and acceptance, they really don’t mean any of it, they just like taking the false credit for appearing open-minded as they attempt to steer public opinion towards the unregulated chasm they comfortably call home. And if you need any set-in concrete proof of this assertion…

 (Artbitch gestures wide to include well… everything.)

 However, I do have to give some begrudging credit to our currently spotlighted shlemming, (The end result of a sheep f**king a lemming.) because unlike most people who are this racially bent, admirably enough he’s a one-dick pony. I’ve yet to see any slurs targeting Asians, Native Americans, Pacific Islanders, Hawaiians, Alaskans, or Latinos, because for Ken, it’s always about those uppity African-Americans.

Now to be honest, I’m not entirely sure why Ken gets so mad when people of higher intellect say “Black Lives Matter”, since he claims to believe that “All Lives Matter”, and that does raise a question: where exactly Ken, were you and the rest of the “ALM” devotees between 1619 and today?

Because I’m pretty sure you could have come in handy at some point, if I dare be so bold. However, I’d like to hope that his underlying motivation isn’t based on either penis envy, or the fact he failed to make his dream of being a Michael Jackson impersonator in Las Vegas come true. Maybe it’s as simple as his being a willfully ignorant dullard, and we should leave it at that. However, if you’ve read my stuff for a while, you already know that I’m not known for “leaving it at that”, especially when someone lays out an entire buffet catered to my particular sensibilities.

After all, when someone goes to all that trouble to provide me with an abundance of both source material and a free lunch, turning it down would just translate as all shades of rude, and Lord knows, I wouldn’t want to damage my stellar reputation for being well-mannered. In order to maintain my merited position of respect within my leather-wrapped sniper’s perch, I’m going to follow my own well-established lead, and use Ken’s own words and postings yet again to establish my opinion that when he finally gets sick and tired of sharing his ignorance with total strangers from within his pillow fort located under the internet’s bed, he might want to take a few precious minutes to reevaluate just why a quirk of melanin makes his testicles retract into his colon.

But where to start? I don’t mean to sound or come across as ungrateful, but it’s truly vexing when you have been granted an amazing eight-course dinner, and the soup looks just as good as the *Frrrozen Haute Chocolate Ice Cream Sundae, which according to Guinness, due to its price of $25,000, is one of the most expensive desserts in the world.  Presented with a $14,000 jewel encrusted spoon, it is served in a 23-carat edible-gold-lined baccarat Harcourt crystal goblet, which just so happens to have an 18-carat gold- white diamond bracelet attached to it.

Adding to the decadence, there are no less than 14 of the world rarest and most expensive cocoas in its composition, as well as milk, ice cubes. whipped cream and La Madeline au Truffle shavings, which at $2,500 a pound, truly ups the ante.  And in a touch right out of a Roman banquet, it is topped off five grams of 24-carat edible gold, a final act of gross opulence, which I feel, just proves that some people have more cash than common sense.

Now in order to get the dialogue moving forward, let me just flip a coin and then choose what festering pile of white-supremacy inanity leaves we should all jump into. Alright, here we go. Oops. Let’s go for two out of three. Make that three out of four. Sorry, I meant five out of six. Or seven out of eight? Oh, f**k it- we’ll start with Ken’s full-on man-crush, and current cautionary tale as to what happens when somebody born with a silver spoon shoves it up his nose all the way to his brain, the one and fortunately only, mushroom-dicked Liar in Chief, Donald J. Trump. 

And per usual Artbitch modus operandi, I’ll be going through these piles of detestable intellectual failure disguised as one’s personal opinion, line by line.
I think it’s been fairly well-established that our lethargic pumpkin masquerading as a human, doesn’t have a “nice’ bone in his body. And the only one that could allegedly pass as such, requires him to put down a 130k deposit before anyone will touch it. And as far as “results” go, there’s nothing there to brag about either, unless you believe that his destroying the very fabric of America is an accomplishment worth extoling.

Add in that there’s; no border wall, no healthcare plan, no educational debt reduction, a quadrupled national deficit, job losses in the millions, failing economy, hundreds of protests, economic and justice inequality increasing, women’s body autonomy under threat, the LGBTQ community facing the guarantee of marginalization yet again. unhinged attacks on the Free Press, acts of fascism snowballing, civil and voting rights being menaced, science and its proponents being disparaged, to the peril of this country’s citizens, lack of leadership, lack of personal responsibility, terrifying lack of basic empathy, sympathy, and common decency, playing God with the lives of 329.5 million Americans, and Mephistopheles with 200 thousand plus, thus far.

Not to mention, a sense of stunningly proud ignorance, via consistent tweets filled with racist conspiracy theories, misogyny, and other random dog whistles designed specifically for his white supremacist followers, all broadcast from the safe-space of his toilet fort. But sure, Ken… you elected him to get “results”, and not because he loathes the same people you do.

Ken: “Fight with our minds! Fight with our actions! Fight for America! Fight for Trump!”

AB: Well, this doesn’t strike as disturbing to one’s psyche at all… sure it’s reminiscent in tone of the old NAZI slogan Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Fuhrer!”, which translates toOne People, one Country, one Leader!”, but I’m sure we don’t have to be concerned what sort of civil ramifications might ensue down the road, when all goes to Hell come the election.

Now as I noted earlier, Donald Trump may not be a NAZI, but the NAZIs sure think he is, and his supporters seem perfectly fine in regards to this, with nary a reasonable concern one way or the other. At this point however, I’m starting to form the opinion that while Ken isn’t prone to enacting the actual theorems that form the underpinning of NAZI ideology, he seemingly is perfectly fine with adopting if not openly promoting, the mindless mannerisms of a disciple of racist dipshittery.

Sadly, this new squad of *dachrinnenmüll is going to be disadvantaged right from the start, and not just because they collectively have the intellect of a urinal cake, No, the main problem here is that they lack a comprehensive uniform that showcases what they truly represent. Whenever I see one of these tiki-torch-tickling neo-fascist twats in their pressed khakis and polo shirts, I don’t ever think “there goes a defender of the White race”, but instead wonder where in the hell the Cobb salad I ordered twenty minutes ago is, and if I should just give the 15% tip directly to the Guatemalan busboy instead. *[Gutter garbage in German]

A party-torch, a red hat, and a propensity for bigoted bloviating, doesn’t make you a White Warrior, it makes you a f**king idiot, or in Ken’s situation, a fervent Trump supporter. But then again, I repeat myself.

Well, Ken is half-right here, as nothing Trump would ever do, could possibly earn my vote. Mainly, because if there was something that could, I’m confident it wouldn’t be his idea in the first place, and only after somebody else did all of the heavy lifting, would he claim the credit for it. As for the rest, Ken as usual, is not only flat wrong, but embarrassingly so.

To note: he conveniently forgot about the Victims of Trafficking and Violence Protection Act of 2000 (AKA: TVPA) which was passed into law in 2000 by Congress and signed by then President Clinton. This law, which is applicable to US citizens, also has the ability to authorize protections for undocumented immigrants who are victims of severe forms of trafficking and violence as well. In relation to the law, all our mango Man-child has done was reauthorize it, by simply rubber-stamping it through.

An action also performed by former presidents George Bush and Barrack Obama. And while Clinton has been tarred with a connection to notorious and now deceased child predator Jefferey Epstein, so has Trump. In fact, Trump has been linked to no less than five alleged sexual predators, that being: Jeffery Epstein, John Casablancas, Tevfik Arif, George Nader, and Ray Cohn. As if that wasn’t enough, there’s also Trumps own words that at best, come off as worthy of dissection, not only for their sheer creepiness, but for the obviously disturbed mindset behind it.

In a 1992 recording, a 46-year-old Trump asks a little girl if she’s going to go up an escalator. Trump then turns to the camera, and says, “I am going to be dating her in ten years. Can you believe it?” For clarity, Trump has never directly said that he has a sexual predilection for young girls, but his statements regarding them are truly inappropriate, no matter how you view them.

During a media interview, he was asked whether his (at that time) one-year old daughter Tiffany happened to look more like him or his then-wife, Marla Maples. He noted that she was “a really beautiful baby.” But then went straight from that into a creepy back alley when he followed up with: “She’s got Marla’s legs. We don’t know whether or not she’s got this part yet,” Trump said, simulating a pair of breasts over his own chest, “but time will tell.”

An appearance on shock-jock Howard Stern’s radio program led to his commenting on Paris Hilton looks, and his first impression of her: “Now, somebody who a lot of people don’t give credit to but is in actuality very beautiful is Paris Hilton. I’ve known Paris Hilton from the time she’s 12, her parents are friends of mine, and the first time I saw her she walked into the room and I said, ‘Who the hell is that?’ At 12, I wasn’t interested … but she was beautiful.”

Relax everybody, I’m sure it’s perfectly fine to let millions of strangers know that you weren’t interested sexually in a 12-year-old girl, right? Sure, it is. Man, if I had a dollar for every time my dad commented on a 12-year-olds sex appeal, I’d have…. not a f**king one, because that sh*t isn’t f**king normal. But even this gag-reflex testing moment seems almost quaint when you assess what he has said about his other daughter Ivanka. He has opined on several occasions that if his daughter Ivanka weren’t his daughter, he “might be dating her”, which is just goddamn weird, if not creepy as f**k. He was relatively impassive when Stern called her a “piece of ass” on air, just like any non-pedophilic American father would.

An equally troubling incident occurred during the presentation of the Miss Teen USA pageant in 1997, according to Brook Antoinette Mahealani Lee, who was at that time, holder of the Miss Universe title. Seated in the audience next to Trump, she claims that when Ivanka came out on stage as a host, he allegedly turned to her and said; “Don’t you think my daughter’s hot? She’s hot, right?” At the time, Ivanka was only 16.

Other than being her father which was bad enough, he was also 51, which just so happens to be my current age, and that just makes me want to projectile vomit. But as with all persons of low moral character, there’s always more to dredge, so I’ll close off this section with one last story regarding our sole protector of America’s children.

 In a 2016 interview with CBS television, former beauty queen Tasha Dixon had this to say about her interaction with Trump during the 2001 Miss USA pageant: “Our first introduction to him was when we were at the dress rehearsal and half naked changing into our bikinis. He just came strolling right in. There was no second to put a robe on or any sort of clothing or anything.

Some girls were topless. Other girls were naked.”
In addition, she claimed that people who worked for Trump “pressured” the women to “fawn over him, go walk up to him, talk to him, get his attention” while still not fully dressed. “I’m telling you Donald Trump owned the pageant for the reasons to utilize his power to get around beautiful women,” she added. “Who do you complain to? He owns the pageant. There’s no one to complain to. Everyone there works for him.” 

Trump confirmed as much during an appearance in April of 2005 on Sterns show, and I’ll just let our groper in chief speak for himself, as he likes to do: “I’ll go backstage before a show and everyone’s getting dressed and ready and everything else. And you know, no men are anywhere. And I’m allowed to go in because I’m the owner of the pageant. And therefore, I’m inspecting it. You know I’m inspecting it. I want to make sure everything is good.”
Stern: “You’re like a doctor.”
“Is everyone OK? You know they’re standing there with no clothes. Is everybody OK? And you see these incredible looking women. And so, I sort of get away with things like that.”

But this is the guy who Ken thinks will stop the sex trafficking of children? Sure, Jan. That fits. The only interest Trump has in stopping the trafficking of children in my sole opinion, is to make sure he doesn’t have any competition when he’s shopping for a new mistress.

Ken: (via Angela Stanton King) “Trump isn’t running against Biden. He’s running against the Clinton’s, Obama’s, CNN, NBC, MSN, ABC, NPR, BLM, ANTIFA, Soros, etc. It’s TRUMP vs SATAN.”
AB: I’m going to be honest here. Whenever I read statements like this, regardless of the person’s political affiliation, it makes me wonder just how much tin-foil has been stored inside their pre-fab survival bunker, and how many hats they’ve made from it.

I mean, it’s one thing to question who’s running against your candidate, but to actually think a mythical scapegoat has taken the time off to get involved in thwarting them is just pure egotism. While it’s understandable that one could draw parallels between the Media and how your candidate is portrayed, it’s sheer lunacy to think that this vulgarian who’s the closest this country has ever come to having its very own Boy from Brazil in charge, hasn’t allied themselves with the Prince of Darkness, as a rule.

In fact, I have it on pretty good authority that Satan is sick and tired of being blamed for this political aberration, as he’s got so many irons in the proverbial fire already, and wouldn’t waste his time with a person so morally rudderless, even he’s repulsed by him..

However, my favorite part of this idiocy is the mentioning of the boogeymen that keep conservatives locked in a perpetual cycle of fear and loathing. Other than the fact that the aforementioned people aren’t in office, have no official power, and are private citizens, the fear they still are able to generate is truly impressive, nonetheless.

To be clear, conservatives don’t hate this assemblage because of what they’ve done or will do, they hate them because they have the qualities conservatives lack- competence, empathy, humanity, and intellectual depth, along with an aura of personal charm they can only dream of. Because even though Trump and Bill have had many separate adventures in the fantastical kingdom of adultery, Bill is still the only one that never had to cut a check to get someone to shake the sheets with him.

And Ken knows it, which is why the mere thought of these people still having the public’s respect and admiration, burns him up so much.

Ken: “If you are not voting for Trump, it is because you have been brainwashed by the media, the liberals & the DC establishment.”

AB: Yes… that must be the reason why. It’s not his being an incompetent, uninformed, cravenly, narcissistic, egotistical, lying, racist, misogynistic, treasonous, xenophobic, lecherous, science-denying, homophobic, adulterous, draft-dodging, whiny wannabe tin-plated fascist at all, so much as it is the fault of an evil entity.

Yes, it juat has to be the media and the shadow government cabal that strapped me to a chair in a semi-darkened basement and through the use of tactfully applied cattle prods and chilled Ding Dongs, made me think I’d rather sit through a week of watching Chuck Norris and Tommy Wiseau interpret the collected works of William Shakespeare, rather than ever think of casting a vote for Trump. It’s at this point that I might opine that Ken and Reality have never met, but I think it’s far more apt to suggest that’s only because whenever Reality sees Ken walking towards her, she pretends to be on a very important phone call.

Ken: “Wake up America. This was all orchestrated by the extreme left to bring this country and Pres. Trump down and to open the doors of Socialism. Remember you have the right to protect your friends, families, property & community by any means necessary. Make sure you are prepared. This was all planned:- Russian Collusion- Mueller report- Impeachment-Covid 19-Organized Riots”
AB: Man oh man… if “Q” ever needs an official mascot, I would totally recommend Ken, and not just because he’s got those rugged American good looks we all wish we were born with. Granted, while he may have gotten the visual advantage, we were fortunate enough to be blessed with actual working intellects, and besides, we can always get elective plastic surgery to compensate for our shortcomings.

But there’s a seven-layer cake of paranoia to deconstruct here, so let’s get right to it. First off, I’m not entirely sure how the “extreme left” managed to convince every other country on Earth to willingly collaborate with their Machiavellian plan to usurp power from an overly spray-tanned failed game show host, but I’m sure Ken has a conspiracy chart complete with intersecting strings set up in his bathroom to tell us all how to get “woke” when the time comes. 

However, he is correct regarding the fact that you have the right to protect your loved ones and all that encompasses, within reason of course, but it’s somewhat unclear what threat Ken thinks they’ll be facing that would require a physical response. As an entrenched suburbanite, let me assure you the only thing I fear are the glut of missionaries knocking on my front door, and when an adorable child shows up selling candy for their school, because as anybody who knows me will tell you, I’m gonna be buying 25 dollars’ worth of chocolate that I could get at Walmart for five bucks.

What Ken seems to conveniently forget once again however, is the fact that if he and his similarly-minded buttheads-in-arms ever become America’s last line of defense, we’d be better off surrendering and handing over the keys to whomever is battling us, albeit the Russians or as I’m hoping for, the armies of Princess Aura, AKA: the daughter of Ming the Merciless, because let’s face it, she’s far easier on the eyes than Trump’s currently rented fembot, Melania, if not significantly smarter, too. And I will gladly admit, I’m more than happy to play “captive earth-man and the space princess” however long she requires me to do so.
That delightful thought aside, I must address the rest of Ken’s fever dream, and as usual, I will do so using facts, which to Ken, seem akin as the parables within the Bible are to Donald Trump, but I digress.

To start, the fallout from the Mueller Investigation has resulted in (at this time) seven convictions of close Trump associates, no less than 34 indictments, asset seizures estimated to be in the range of 46 million, and most importantly- two history-making counts of impeachment knotted tightly around Trump’s neck, for Abuse of Power and Obstruction of Justice. That’s a pretty good return on a leftist plot, let me tell you. At best, we usually just break even,

 But there’s more! When it comes to the Pandemic, Ken also puzzlingly ignores the established timeline of how the Fanta Flubber managed the information regarding it. On Feb. 28, 2020, at yet another one of his innumerable ego-stroke rallies hosted in South Carolina, he compared the valid criticism of his mismanaging the spread of the virus by Democrats to their attempts to impeach him by saying; “this is their new hoax.

At the time, he also attempted to verbally soften the virality of COVID-19, by comparing it to the common flu. This flippancy occurred prior to his rambling (on tape) to noted Watergate journalist Bob Woodward in April, the following snippets of accidental truth:

“Bob, it’s so easily transmissible, you wouldn’t even believe it,I mean, you could be in the room… I was in the White House a couple of days ago, meeting with 10 people in the Oval Office and a guy sneezed, innocently. Not a horrible- just a sneeze.

The entire room bailed out, OK? Including me, by the way.” “This is deadly stuff, You just breathe the air and that’s how it’s passed. And so that’s a very tricky one. That’s a very delicate one. It’s also more deadly than even your strenuous flu.”

I wanted to always play it down, I still like playing it down, because I don’t want to create a panic.” And most chillingly; “This thing is a killer if it gets you. If you’re the wrong person, you don’t have a chance.” “It’s a plague.”

But for further detail that Ken deliberately overlooked in order to comfortably masturbate to his own obliviousness, let’s call up that established timeline I referenced earlier: JAN. 22: “We have it totally under control. It’s one person, coming in from China. It’s going to be just fine.” JAN. 24: “China has been working very hard to contain the Coronavirus. The United States greatly appreciates their efforts and transparency. It will all work out well. In particular, on behalf of the American People, I want to thank President Xi!”

JAN. 30: “Hopefully it won’t be as bad as some people think it could be. But we’re working very closely with them and with a lot of other people and a lot of other countries. And we think we have it very well under control.” FEB. 10: “I think the virus is going to be- it’s going to be fine.” FEB. 26:The 15 within a couple of days is going to be down to close to zero… This is a flu. This is like a flu.”

MAR. 6: “You have to be calm. It’ll go away.” MAR. 7: “No, I’m not concerned at all. No, I’m not. No, we’ve done a great job.” MAR. 13: “We’ve done a great job because we acted quickly. We acted early. And there’s nothing we could have done that was better than closing our borders to highly infected areas.”  And so on, ad nausea, resulting in two final quotes showcasing exactly how much of an incompetent jackass this man really is- again;

MAR, 13:No, I don’t take responsibility at all, we were given a set of circumstances…it wasn’t meant for this kind of an event with the kind of numbers that we’re talking about.”  SEPT: “They are dying. That’s true. And you- it is what it is, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t doing everything we can. It’s under control as much as you can control it.”

But yeah… Kenny Cheez Whiz, this is all the fault of the Left. And as for the “riots” Ken misses the point of? I already covered why they’re occurring in the last piece I wrote, so I’m not gonna waste my time beating a brain-dead honky into dust. Not too surprisingly, given Ken’s insistence that “All Lives Matter”, he’s also a proponent of the idiom that “Blue Lives Matter”, which to my great dismay, isn’t about Smurfs, but cops instead, which is just idiotic.

Why, you ask? Well, first off, “Blue” isn’t an actual race. unless you count the aforementioned Smurfs and whatever the heck the Diva Plavalaguna is in the Fifth Element. It’s a job, no more, no less.

And while it is a dangerous one at times, it’s also an occupation that’s a personal choice, not a mandatory career forced upon you at the moment of your birth as if you were a bee. Sorry/not sorry. When I was a kid, I had great respect for police in general, but now, as a man in his early fifties? Not so much.

In fact, it’s as close to zilch as one can get without saying the word itself. This is due partially to how today’s police force views the general public with outright contemptuous hostility, and how they’ve manifested that attitude with progressively aggressive behavior towards the citizens they’re sworn to protect and the militarization of basic tactics and uniforms that call to mind Seal Team 6 on a drunken staycation.

This is not to say that all cops are “bad”, but if the ones who self-deem as “good” allow those who violate their code of ethics to continue operating without consequence, aren’t they indeed in the end, “bad”?

That answer is “yes” by the way, for those of you with ambiguous morality. But not according to Ken, no siree Bob. For it seems that everyone who has ever been mistreated, assaulted, maimed, crippled, blinded, or outright murdered by the boy-band in blue is without question, 100% at fault,

Every time. Especially if they’re African-American. and don’t you dare even think of using validated eye-witness testimony, bystander cell-phone video, or the cops’ own body-cam footage to say otherwise, because Ken, our resident middle-aged jar of rancid mayonnaise, is here to set you walking down the White path regarding your erroneous opinion.

And since he is such a helpful sort, he was nice enough to provide the evidence necessary to back up my opinion yet again. Someday, I’m going to have to buy him a BLM gift pack (t-shirt, bumper stickers, and house flag) so that I can thank him appropriately, but the thought of him wearing that shirt at the next pro-Blue Klux Klan rally he attends, fills me with such glee, no thanks are necessary:

Ken: Common factor in the police shootings. The victims resisted. Maybe officers’ instructions should be followed.”

AB: “I’ll take “THINGS KEN IS WRONG ANOUT YET AGAIN” for $300, Alex.” To this I say, go f**k yourself with a sandpaper-lined Fleshlight, Ken. Philandro Castile was following orders. Breonna Taylor who was unarmed, and was murdered in her own hallway.

Tamir Rice was twelve years old and playing in a park with a toy gun, and was shot dead as the officer exited his cruiser with no prior interaction. In Utah, an unarmed autistic thirteen-year-old named Linden Cameron was fired upon no less than eleven times as he ran away from police officers who were responding to a call that he required a mental health intervention.

George Floyd was laying on the ground handcuffed for a suspected crime, as a 200lb+ police officer knelt on his neck for eight minutes and forty-six seconds. Despite Floyd’s complaining about being unable to breathe, the officer refused to lift his knee until he was ordered to do so by paramedics. An autopsy concluded that “evidence is consistent with mechanical asphyxia as the cause of death.

Atatiana Koquice Jefferson was shot while in her own home, after a neighbor called a non-emergency number, stating that Jefferson’s front door was open. Rather than knock on said door, police crept around the house, leading to her picking up a legally registered gun on the belief that she had a prowler, and was shot dead through a window in front of her six-year-old nephew.

Stephon Clark was standing in his grandmother’s back yard holding a cell-phone, when a cadre of trained by sea-monkey police officers dispensed 20 rounds, killing him. He was not being pursued or suspected of a crime by said blue thugs, but nobody was ever charged with his murder.

 And if you didn’t notice, Ken never once calls these unfortunate souls “perpetrators”, or “convicted criminals”, nope… Ken says “victims”, a Freudian slip which just goes to show that despite his assertions they got what they deserved, even he knows he’s full of s**t in trying to defend this ever-growing list of executions by cops.

Ken: “If you don’t listen to a police officer’s orders, what happens to you is your fault. No matter what color your skin is.”
AB: I think I just established that’s garbage, but since you’re as sharp as a marshmallow Ken, I’ll provide an example as to why you’re incorrect once more. On July 18, 2016, Charles Kinsey, a mental health specialist, had been in the middle of reacquiring a severely autistic patient named Arnaldo Rios Soto, who had run away from his group home, when the duo came into contact with Miami police officers who later claimed that they were searching for an armed suicidal man.

In the incident caught on video, Kinsey was lying on the ground with his hands in the air, as he clearly informed officers whom he and his patient were, when he was shot without any form of justifiable cause. The officer who shot Kinsey said his intent was to shoot Kinsey’s non-interactive patient, who was doing nothing more than playing with a TOY TRUCK, and which despite being obviously so, was “misidentified” as a gun, which the police claimed was “threatening” Kinsey.

Because as we all know, not only do modern guns come with wheels, but the best way to save a hostage is to kill them, in a means to take away the leverage of the kidnapper. Following the shooting, Kinsey was handcuffed and left bleeding from a leg wound, for close to twenty minutes without police giving him medical aid. The outcome?Thankfully, Kinsey survived, and the officer who shot Kinsey, Jonathan Aledda, was arrested, and formally charged with attempted manslaughter and negligence.

However, despite his being found guilty of said negligence charge some two years later, he had not been officially fired from the force until a day after the verdict was reached, and infuriatingly, did not serve any prison time for his actions. In a move that screams “the laws don’t apply to us”, he was sentenced to probation and asked to write [seriously?] a 2,500-word essay on policing, because I guess attempted murder can now be forgiven with an English class assignment. In the end, Aledda was released after serving less than 5 months of probation.

Adding insult to Kinsey’s literal injury, Aledda’s conviction also will not appear on his criminal record. Kinsey eventually settled a federal lawsuit with the City of North Miami regarding Aledda’s incompetent actions for an undisclosed amount, and hopefully, Aledda will never be given any form of authority ever again. Now, while the statistic that Whites get shot by police at a far greater rate than African Americans is true, it should also be noted that African-Americans have a five-time higher percentage of being shot for far lesser activities in the first place.

It’s amazing to me how these officers will “fear for their life” when an African-American is doing nothing more than walking down a street, but are as equally comfortable arresting a mass shooter armed to the teeth, who just so happens to be White. Quirk of the Universe, I guess?Ken: “Deep thought… Do you think the chance of being murdered by a police officer could be reduced to nearly zero by simlpy staying out of trouble to begin with?”

AB: a couple of boxes to unwrap here, Ken. First, the only thing “deep” about you in my humble opinion, is your ignorance and racist predilections. And as the previous responses show, I’m not entirely sure how a woman sleeping in her own bed somehow constitutes either a crime or a death sentence. But nice Freudian slip there, buddy. You didn’t say “shot” or “killed” or even the action-movie cliché of “exterminated”. No, you said “murdered”, which once again, just shows that you and your so-called POV are as relevant to the modern-day racial equality discussion as your application to MENSA was

Ken: “Today justice was served in Louisville Ky.  No officers were indicted in the death of Breonna Taylor.  If you don’t like the law then work to change it.  The officers were only following the terms of the No-knock Warrant issued by a Judge. In the United States, a no-knock warrant is a warrant issued by a judge that allows law enforcement to enter a property without immediate prior notification of the residents, such as by knocking or ringing a doorbell. In most cases, law enforcement will identify themselves just before they forcefully enter the property. It is issued under the belief that any evidence they hope to find can be destroyed during the time that police identify themselves and the time they secure the area, or in the event where there is a large perceived threat to officer safety during the execution of the warrant.”

AB: Sigh… somewhere out there is a public school that’s responsible for this jackboot-licking dips**t, and we either need to fund it adequately, or close it down for the good of the local community. The police raid that killed Breonna Taylor was flawed from the start, and here’s why: Breonna Taylor, a 26-year-old Black woman, was murdered in cold blood in her own apartment by three officers from the Louisville Metro Police whose name are Jonathan Mattingly, Brett Hankison, and Myles Cosgrove. Serving a search warrant for her ex-boyfriend Jamarcus Glover, an individual they ALREADY HAD IN CUSTODY. After entering the apartment wearing plainclothes, they were met by Taylor’s current boyfriend Kenneth Walker, who under the impression that they were intruders, fired at them, causing a flesh wound on officer Mattingly’s leg, although this assertion may also be incorrect, due to contradictory ballistic evidence that has been unearthed as of late. In return, the officers fired 32 shots in return, missing Walker entirely, but six of those found Taylor in a hallway and ended her life.

Hankison alone was fired by the LMP not for his part in murdering her, but for his thoughtlessly pumping ammo through the covered patio door and window of Taylor’s apartment, an action of aggression which has led to three charges of wanton endangerment for endangering a neighbor with his shots. Essentially, he’s being prosecuted not for her murder, but for the fact he failed to add more lead to her body. The city quickly coughed up $12 million and promised to restructure their policies, but the two other officers involved in the raid were not indicted, because apparently, they feared her bed’s throw pillows and were justified in pretending they were playing Call of Duty for keeps.

And about that “no-knock” warrant?

 To acquire said warrant, an LMP detective claimed in a sworn affidavit that he’d seen Glover, who was arrested the SAME NIGHT TEN MILES AWAY, leaving Taylor’s apartment two months prior with a package before his arrival at a “known drug house.” The same detective affirmed that he had verified that Glover had been receiving “packages of interest” at Taylor’s home “through a US Postal Inspector”. Unfortunately, for this allegedly lying sack of pork rinds, Tony Gooden, the U.S. postal inspector in Louisville, told WDRB News that not only hadn’t the LMP used his office to authenticate this information, but stated that an altogether agency had asked in January to look into this allegation, to which his office concluded there was no validity.

Not surprisingly given this volatile information, the police and right-wing media moved swiftly on a campaign of disinformation to smear Taylor’s character, leaning on her ex to besmirch her good name by bolstering their claim that she was involved with Glover’s criminal activities. According to Glover; “The police are trying to make it out to be my fault and turning the whole community out here making it look like I brought this to Breonna’s door, there was nothing never there or anything ever there, and at the end of the day, they went about it the wrong way and lied on that search warrant and shot that girl out there,”

 So to recap; badged thugs wearing street clothes, under the auspices of a warrant they obtained under false pretense, entered a home, and while carelessly firing bullets as if they were free, murdered one of its occupants in cold blood, and subsequently tried to frame her boyfriend, then tried to blame the victim for her own death by attempting to pressure the ex-boyfriend to lie about her, and when that failed, proceeded to not charge her executioners with murder. But once again, and at the very least, she was guilty of being Black, so that makes her death just another corpse to add to the police’s ever-growing collection  of dead citizens as they mouth platitudes and swear they’ll get it right next time. I’m sure they will. Hopefully however, it won’t be at your house Ken, if they don’t. And if it is, I’m certain they’ll openly take the blame for it, because that is so their thing, right?

 You just better pray they knock first.

I have to tell you, reading Ken’s mash notes to the Blue Bacon Brigade is definitely an eye opener as to the purity of Ken’s belief in Law and Order. The takeaway here being; follow commands, do what you’re told, and if you get hurt… well, that’s all on you. And if I wanted to hurl a surprise can of gasoline into the fire, I actually agree with this view in principle, limited as that may be. The difference being that if you’re dumb enough to use deadly force against a cop, not only did you “ask for it” regarding whatever action they take next, you insisted that it be gift wrapped as well. But that’s where the line is. you don’t derive a beat-down or death, for running your mouth, refusing to show ID, selling loose cigarettes, jaywalking, sleeping in your own home, playing in a park, exercising your constitutional rights, or shoplifting. But per his normal penchant for whitewashing, Ken can never get away clean. It just wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t throw a last touch of hypocrisy upon the moldering mound of mendacity we’ve all come to expect from him. And yes, here it comes.

Ken: “Only in America you get a pass for rioting, burning down buildings, assaulting law enforcement officers and not wearing masks in large gatherings, but you get arrested for not wearing a mask, even though you were following the state mask mandate. SHE WAS MORE THAN 6 FEET FROM THE NEXT GROUP OF PEOPLE. All individuals in Ohio must wear facial coverings in public at all times when: At an indoor location that is not a residence Outdoors, but unable to maintain six-foot social distance from people who are not household members Waiting for, riding, driving, or operating public transportation, such as a taxi, a car service, or a private car used for ride-sharing.”

 AB: Oh Ken… what did punctuation ever do to you as a child? I only ask because this rant reads less than an opinion and more like the sort of babble that happens when White people discover that they too, can win stupid prizes for playing stupid games. Now, I’m sure there must be a rationalization for Ken’s soon-to-be-discussed hypocrisy here, so let’s dig in to what happened. The Karen pictured here wearing complimentary locking friendship bracelets, goes by the name of Alecia Kitts, and is an Ohio mother of two, who now faces two charges due to the incident: resisting arrest, which is a second-degree misdemeanor, and criminal trespassing, a fourth-degree misdemeanor. The big hullabaloo started when Kitts, who was sitting in the bleachers attending a middle school football game, was confronted by a school resource officer over her lack of a face mask.

This led to Kitts claiming (without proof) that she couldn’t wear one, due to her “asthma”, which in most cases, is total bupkus, according to Stukus. That being Dr. David Stukus, a member of the Medical Scientific Council for the Asthma and Allergy Foundation of America who says; “For people with very mild asthma or well-controlled asthma, it’s probably not going to be an issue, For people who have very severe disease and have frequent exacerbations, ER visits, hospitalizations, require lots of medications and frequent symptoms, it might cause more issues for those folks.”

 After this still as yet unproven clam of medical frailty, Kitts was asked to leave due to her violating the school’s COVID-19 policy, and when she failed to comply, was subsequently ejected as a trespasser. In response to this valid expulsion, Kitts responded in a fashion that is completely in line with someone who has a supposed history of breathing problems, that being the decision to engage in a strenuously physical altercation with an officer of the law. Cell-phone video of the same shows Kitts fighting with the officer (also known in cop parlance as “resisting arrest”) as he scuffles for nearly two minutes to handcuff her before deploying his Taser to her right shoulder, after which, he escorts her out of the bleachers.

A minor detail escapes me here… what was it Ken said previously regarding following the orders of the police? Gosh, it’s so fuzzy… almost impossible to recall, darn my middle-aged memory. Oh wait, here it is, I just had to look in the right place. He said, and I quote: “If you don’t listen to a police officer’s orders, what happens to you is your fault. No matter what color your skin is.” If I may, let me just point out a few notes that Ken forgot to jot down in his indignation. A school, like any other business that serves the general public, is a private entity, and can legally set in place any policies that it wants regarding behavior and other such protocols, such as penalties for violating those guidelines. The police who are oft hired by those entities, are allowed by way of their granted authority, to enforce both the various private regulations along with the civil ones as well, and when you’re told to get off private property by a representative of such, it’s not open for debate, no matter how offended you are or how absurd you view it as.

 I’m fairly certain if we all crashed one of Ken’s bigoted brunches and demanded he cater to our every undeserved whim, the final consequences for doing so wouldn’t be open to a balanced peer review. And I’m most certain Ken wouldn’t accept being physically attacked for it, either. But yet for Ken, this reality goes right out the window when it comes to aiding in the defense of these combative Caucasian Karens when they are caught violating the law. So, she was trespassing and assaulted a cop? How dare she be held to account for her actions, as the cop ignores that Black family over there, doing White people things. And in public, no less. I’d bet even money that if this woman had been African-American, Ken would be playing all the racist classics- “should have listened”, “should have followed/known the rules”, “shouldn’t have picked a fight a cop”, “those people are just thugs and criminals to begin with”, “you just know they have a record”, and my personal favorite: “why can’t they just follow the rules like we do?”. Yeah, that sounds about White, I guess.

However, Ken’s obsessions don’t just stop with Trump and badged thugs, he’s got quite the thing for conspiracies involving the Media as well. Ken doesn’t believe for one second in the veracity of the mainstream, but he’s definitely a regular swimmer within the lamestream. It’s just a shame he’s swallowed so much of the Kool-Ade as he’s done so.

 Cue the obligatory Media memes!!!

Ken; “Who all, other than me, thinks that the Media is Responsible for Promoting Racial Violence in this Country

AB: If you’re referring to Right-wing media stoking the racist fires by abusing the concept of identity politics, then you, my marginal sir, are 100% correct in your belief. However, if you’re attempting to slur the Left as equally culpable, then you missed the turnoff to The Obvious Point by more than a few miles. By way of example, FOX, which is at best, yellow journalism weaponized to serve as a propaganda department for our Craven-in Chief, plays the White Fear card so consistently, I’m amazed that its mentally-challenged viewership has enough sack to attend all those rallies, what with those packs of murderous Antifa and BLM thugs so openly ravaging the suburbs and all. And I could note the various other sites such as QAnon and Breitbart, along with a handful of others that cater to the lowest denominator of the intellectually void, but when it comes to being the OG of BS, FOX is the trendsetter. When they’re not promoting their imaginary “war” against the four cornerstones of the Right-wing demographic, that being Conservatives, Christmas, Cops, and Christianity.

Typically, they can usually be found selectively editing the cherry-picked American history they promote regarding the inherent racism that was built into the founding pillars of our social and economic infrastructure. And when it comes to the fight for civil rights, they’ll be ever so quick to let you know that the one group always under continuous threat and that needs champions the most, are Whites. Specifically, White men. You ladies just need to get your asses back in the kitchen and make us a sandwich, before we take away your right to speak to us without our permission first.

Now to be fair, FOX News isn’t solely responsible for germinating these bigoted tactics, but they do keep them alive, much in the way that Dr. Frankenstein might, if he had gotten his medical degree from Trump University. However, when the topic of discussion is that of immigrants, regardless of their legal status, that’s when FOX becomes your racist uncle going off during Thanksgiving dinner. FOX regularly allows its show hosts and their bigoted guests, primarily charlatans habitually described as “experts”, almost total free reign in how they construct their narrative of an America being overrun by violent crime, disease, and cultural influences inflicted upon us by persons intent on destroying our previously unblemished country. And even worse, these sub-humans vote Democratic, which is what really scares them the most.

If this sounds at all familiar, it’s probably because this is a page straight out of Hitler’s playbook for 1933 Germany, and we all know where that went. Such parallels however, are routinely dismissed by FOX’s cadre of Tokyo Roses’ who regularly engage in gaslighting to create a false sense of validity, in an attempt to normalize their abominable worldview. But the Left isn’t clear of this, not by a long shot. After all, I did see a segment on MSNBC once that suggested adding pineapple to a pizza, and any group of sociopaths who would openly encourage that, must be stopped for the common good at all costs.

Ken: “China spread the disease. Democrats spread the lies. Media spread the panic. They crashed the economy. All to destroy our President.”

AB: If someone ever figures out how to charge rent for the conspiracy-based victimization that most Trump supporters live under 24/7, they’re going to have a bank account balance that Jeff Bezos can only dream of touching himself to. To be clear, what Dudley Dipstick is suggesting here, is that a country that Trump and his daughter/side-girl still do personal business with, is responsible for his inaction to halt its effect, in conjunction with Democrats who, using nothing other than the accumulating scientific data, fell in lockstep with the “Media” in order to crash our economy, an obvious ruse designed to make our racist, vulgar, sexually predating, porn-star affair underwriting, lecherous, lying, cravenly, incompetent, ineffectual, narcissistic, misogynistic, aspiring-fascist egomaniac Commander-in Grief look… “bad”. I’m gonna admit I’m at a loss here. I don’t know if I should welcome Ken into the world of creative writing, or hastily assemble his family and remaining friends to stage a desperately needed intervention.

We’ve all heard the phrase ”put down the pipe”, but in his case, I think that should be modified to “put down the remote control, and cancel your internet.” I know this comes as a terrible shock to you Ken, but if there is one arena your President shines far and away like a star in, it’s making himself look bad without assistance. He may just be the bestest at it, a skillset so bigly, that no one in history may ever get close to matching, much less surpassing.

 Speaking of unfounded bigliness…

Ken: “Day 1 of the DNC : 21.4 Million Views. Day 1 of the RNC : 128.4 Million Views”

AB: Wow. That’s one impressive statistic… or it would be, if it were even close to being true, as opening night numbers compiled by Nielsen Media Research, showed 17 million viewers for the RNC, versus 19.7 million viewers for the DNC. That by the way, is an almost hardly worth mentioning miniscule difference of 111.4 million from what Ken absurdly claimed as fact. To put that in perspective, that’s roughly one-third of America’s current population he overshot by. Adding further insult to wounded pride, the DNC was the ratings winner overall, due to the fact that it seems most Americans are sick and tired of the fascism cosplay that the GOP has blown their metaphorical wad on.

The four-night average totals, compiled from data encompassing the viewing audience of ABC, CBS, NBC, Fox News Channel, Fox Business Network, CNN, CNNe, MSNBC, Telemundo, Univision, PBS, Newsmax and Newsy, were such: 19,400,000 for the Republicans, and 21,600,000 for the Democrats.

All I can say regarding this wretched attempt at gaslighting, is that if he’s as good at describing the accurate size of his Bone Ranger as he is at doing research, the next woman he manages to guilt into sex is going to sadly discover that his vanilla banana is so inverted, they’ll be two vaginas being left unsatisfied when the night ends. But Ken’s not quite done showing his ignorance just yet, and this time around, he’s going to disgustingly appropriate the tragedy of a murdered child to do it, which I will acknowledge, is quite the unexpected plot twist.

Ken: “NBC , ABC , CBS . and CNN show zero results for reports on the 5-year-old white child allegedly executed by black 25-year-old.”

AB: I’m going to do something out of character here. For once, I’m not going to respond to this outright racist f**kery with my normal compliment of venomous snark. What Ken is referring to here, is the senseless slaughter of 5-year-old Cannon Hinnant, who was deliberately shot in the head as he rode his bike in his own front yard. The alleged shooter. Darius Sessoms, was arrested after fleeing the scene, and has been charged with first degree murder in relation to the incident. Sessoms, much to the delight of conservative ghouls, does have a previous record of brushes with the law: he was previously convicted of felony larceny of firearms in March of 2016, a misdemeanor maintaining a place for a controlled substance in April of 2016, and felony marijuana possession in November of 2016. In addition, he also has two pending counts of felony maintaining a vehicle, dwelling or place for a controlled substance. Quite the resume, but nothing that would lead to people assuming he could have done something like this.

Hinnant’s mother, Bonny Waddell, in an interview with CBS affiliate WNCN, said: “He was my neighbor for years. We always spoke when we saw each other. It was, we never, never ever had arguments with each other,” The motivation for Sessoms’s act of inhumanity has not been established, not that it really matters to those who feel the loss of an innocent life, but ruling it out as a race crime being one of the factors, is not an option as of yet. So naturally, our White Warrior jumped on it as such, claiming that national Media ignored the story, which is patently untrue.

 I have no idea how it is that Ken can use the Internet to embarrass himself so consistently, but somehow, has not discovered the joy of that which is Google. From Snopes.com, regarding the assertion that the national media ignored this story entirely: “Darius Sessoms, who is Black, has been charged in the fatal shooting of 5-year-old Cannon Hinnant on Aug. 9, 2020, according to police statements. However, no evidence has demonstrated a pattern of ignoring the crime on the part of mainstream news media outlets, much less doing so to further a predetermined racial narrative.” Given the fact it took me less than forty seconds to debunk this racist tripe, what’s Ken’s excuse for pushing this falsehood other than the need to draw an unsupported parallel to foster his racist worldview that the White race is under attack 24/7?

Personally, I’ve never thought that there could ever be a successful human analog for sentient vomit, but here he is. Newsflash, Ken? Just because this poor child didn’t get a protest and George Floyd did, doesn’t mean one is less or more important than the other. It’s about context, a concept that you obviously do not grasp. Both of these cases involve a murder committed by a person of dubious mental acuity, but only one of these was at the hands of someone who swore an oath to protect the very person they killed. In all honesty Ken, you couldn’t care less what the truth entails, for it only serves as a conduit of convenience for you to push your venom upon a society already weakened by the likes of people such as yourself. You have no interest in changing the world that util now, has suited you well, so please stop with your faux outrage and far too real ignorance.

 And if you do, then why aren’t you organizing the very tributes that you demand others present? Are your hands painted on? Or is it because they’re otherwise occupied with polishing your undersized tiki-torch?

In the last screed, I noted Ken’s use of social media to push forward an ideology so dense, it could be used as either a doorstop or as a Kardashian, but I barely scratched the surface, in fact. If I actually wrote about everything I discovered, I could make a career out of the serialization of his innate idiocy, but for the sake of my sanity and yours, I’ll just touch upon some further brilliant insights from our resident professor of African-American cultural studies instead.

Ken: “Black Americans comprise 14% of the population yet, are the recipients of 88% of the existing social programs. Tell me again about “equality”! no amount of money will ever level the field! That comes from personal initive, period!”

AB: First Ken, maybe you could take some of that personal “initiative” thar you imply you have, and perhaps learn how to punctuate and spell correctly, as it’s obvious that social program we call public schooling has obviously failed you on many different levels. As to the rest of your statement, let’s dissect. The actual percentage of African-Americans in this country is actually 12.1%, but as we’ve seen, Ken can’t do research. According to the last US Census, 21.3% of the US population participates in some form of government assistance each month. Of those, the African-American demographic showed a 41.6% inclusion rate, with Latinos at 36.4%, and the Asian / Pacific Islander rate at 17.8%, with whites closing out the data field at 13.2%. But an additional far-more detailed study (2016) conducted by the US Department of health and Human Services, US department of commerce and CATO Institute concluded that overall, 35.4% of the US population as a whole, were receiving some variant of federal aid.

When broken down between Black and Whites however, the number really punches a hole in Ken’s dinghy of dumbf**kery. But to add even more holes to the ones in both Ken’s head and theory, it also appears that immigrants, a favorite target of the Right aren’t the welfare queens and cheats that they like to slur as such, and I can’t even tell you how much I’m enjoying this factoid. The breakdown: welfare recipients who are Hispanic: 15.7%, Asian: 2.4%, and “Other”: 3.3%. Please note however, this does not mean that 15.7 percent of all Hispanic Americans and 2.4 percent of all Asian Americans are on welfare. It is simply referring to the percentage of welfare recipients.

And what’s the numbers when it comes to the White and Black percentages, you ask? Well, Whites average a rate of: 38.8%, and when it comes to the Blacks that Ken implies are sucking Americas’ metaphorical teats dry, it’s a rate of 39.8%, or a difference of 1.1%. This once again, does not infer that 38.8& of all Whites, and 39.8% of all Blacks are on welfare. It means that when tabulated by race, those are the ending tallies. In fact, despite intensive research using several government assistance platforms, I couldn’t find any statistics that came even remotely close to matching Ken’s bullspit claims. Other factors Ken ignores in order to push this false narrative, are as clear as day and just as easy to find when one bothers to look.

Disparities in income equality, criminal justice, educational funding, job opportunities within economically disadvantaged and purposefully ghettoized neighborhoods, banking disparities, and deep cultural impasses all add to these numbers, but Ken doesn’t want to hear that. If he changes his outlook, it also means he’d have to change his entire wardrobe, and he’d never get full market value for those previously used white robes in this current economy, sad to say.

Ken: “My thoughts exactly. Brett Roberts Yes sir…there can be no Equality until there is personal Accountability…and the Black community holds themselves to the same standards of conduct and responsibility…commitment to marriage…Child rearing with two parents…and respect for the Law…there I said it…will await the “R” Word.”

AB: I’d swear to mythical God that if Ken goes any deeper in his exploration of racist tropes, he’d qualify as the White supremacist version of Alan Quartermain. If only those criminally-driven, unchecked in their breeding monkeys could learn to act like us civilized White people, we’d finally be able to achieve that Utopia we’ve been aspiring to be since America was formed for the benefit of those rich white slave owners, huh? In the KJ version of the Bible, John: 8 states: So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground. And they which heard it, being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst. When Jesus had lifted up himself, and saw none but the woman, he said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.”

I’m fairly certain the obvious message within this passage will fly over Ken’s head, but that’s to be expected. After all, when your point of view is shouted from a sewer, most things do. And I’m confused as to why Ken needs to “await the R Word”, when it’s fairly obvious its been tattooed on his forehead in reverse so he doesn’t forget who and what he is. And fortunately, he’s got options as to what that might be: Ridiculous. Reprehensible. Revolting. And yes… Racist. Shaking it up, Ken throws us a combined duo pitch of pin-headedness, and he does it with hus usual mix of idiocy and arrogance. I’l give him one thing though- this guy is more consistent than milk, if not way whiter.

Ken: “Everybody on the Left believes that all Whites, except for them, hate Blacks, and that they must stand up for Black peoples rights, but doesn’t that mean they believe that Blacks are weak and can’t stand up for themselves?”

 AB: Um… no we don’t, and more importantly, we’ve never said or implied that. Ever. The reason why we support Civil rights for all, is because we have this crazy idea that everybody is equal, whether we agree with their politics, lifestyle, or preferred choice of snack cakes. And we don’t regard Blacks as “weak”- we just understand that when people are being openly denied their rights, the majority demographic that tends to take theirs for granted, has a moral responsibility to use that entrenched position and their collective voice to eradicate such insidiousness. It’s really that simple. 

Ken: “There is NO race war going on in America. It’s just a bunch of isolated, media-staged events in congested cities to con you into believing it’s happening everywhere, when it’s not.”

AB: I really don’t know the Media does it. Seriously, how do they find the time and energy? For according to Ken, they’re already quite busy “brainwashing” Americans, while concurrently, being “responsible for promoting racial Violence in this country”, and while their hands had to be pretty full already, what with “spreading the panic” of the pandemic and all, they still found a way to dig deep and plan a series of worldwide protests, as well as making certain everybody showed up en masse and on time. I don’t know what organizational geniuses are behind all of these shadowy machinations, but if I ever get married, I want those bad-ass bitches planning the wedding and reception, if not the bachelor party beforehand.

But do take some heart, because while Ken’s intellect is out of warranty, he at least does have a sense of humor that still might be, due to its lack of use. To be fair, neither of the following was intended to be funny on purpose, but like most Trumpanzees, Ken’s gift for the inadvertently absurd is a godsend for us, even if it definitely needs to be taken back to the shop for a tune-up, ASAP

Ken: “Can we still order Black Coffee??? Are Brownies being taken off the shelf? is White Castle changing it’s name?… I’m sure Cracker Barrel is screwed..,Can we still play Chinese Checkers? …is it still called an Indian burn? No more Italian sausages? How far do ya want to go with this foolishness?”

AB:  A far better question to be asked: is there anybody out there who can give me a CAT scan, because this statement may have just given me an aneurysm. I cannot, with 100% certainty, ascertain what happened to Ken to turn him from a functioning zygote into a mobile gainsayer gloryhole, but I would bet dollars to doughnuts it either involves using his skull as an involuntary floor jack during shop class, or being trapped inside an unventilated garage as he spray-painted something as a kid one too many times.

Keep in mind, we’re being lectured regarding foolishness by an alleged bigot who’s chosen political party has called for “boycotts” of the following companies, due to their public or perceived  to be, ant-Trump stance: Walmart, Netflix, NBO Starbucks, Macy’s, Keurig, Campbell’s Soup, the NFL, NIKE, Anheuser-Busch, Oreos, Target, Gillette, Pepsi, Dell, Nordstrom, GrubHub, Univision, CBS, ABC, NBC, CNN, MSNBC, Amazon, Ben & Jerry’s, Cheerios, Skittles, Apple, T.J. Maxx, Ford Motors, Goodyear, AT&T, Tumblr, Yelp, Twitter, YouTube, Google, Wikipedia, Instagram. and in a couldn’t make this stuff up moment straight out of a Monty Python sketch, even the blockbuster movie Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, was not immune to their lunacy of self-victimization either.

Think about that. Take all the time you need. A movie about space wizards using glow sticks on steroids as weapons, and which has featured an obviously closeted talking android as a main character for decades, while simultaneously failing to fix the scars of my childhood by not killing every f**king Ewok in the universe, was targeted because the Cult 45 collective thought the ANTI-FASCIST message within the movie was somehow aimed at Trump. They were also aggravated by the fact that a woman was piloting the Millennium Falcon, and that Black people were now part of the First Order, but that’s a story arc for another time. It does strike me as strange that even though his base screams he’s not a fascist misogynistic racist NAZI, people who are fans of such seem to think he is, which is a weird thing to believe about a guy who supposedly isn’t.

However, there’s a classic conservative gambit in play here, which is to take an unrelated tangent, and smack it right upside a topic they’re trying to desperately deflect attention away from.

So, in order of Ken’s inane queries, I’ll simply say; (1) Yes, but why would you, it’s disgusting. (2) No, because us Diabetics will cut you if you try. (3) They can’t, because they were in a movie, and no one wants to lose all that free publicity. (4) As long as morbidly obese old people exist, they’ll be fine. (5) Please… we all know that game is way out of your skill range, if not your intellect. (6) If you’re still six, yes. (7) See previous “old people” statement. (8) And how far will we go to make sure everybody has the same rights? Further than you and your cowardly Caucasian cadre could ever go, because you’re all afraid of your own shadows… probably because they’re darker in tint than you.

And you should probably get used to us always getting in your way to maintain the status quo, because we’re NEVER going to stop ruining your day, your plans, and the comfort yo take in being an openly emboldened bigot.

Ken: [ No meme this time, just the visual representation of: “I can’t be a racist, because I have Black friends.” ]

 AB: Normally, I try not to bridge the vastly separated continents of Hyperbole and Reality, but here, I think this one time, I might be able to get away with it. I have no idea who these two men are, albeit if they’ve been hired as background dressing for a Trump rally, or are really pro-Trump supporters, but either way, this is just ridiculously hilarious, if unintentionally so. And it’s not just because almost every time I’ve seen one of these shirts being worn in public, it’s almost always on someone who looks like this:

People so white that the rays of the Sun bouncing off of them are one of the reasons why Antarctica is melting as fast as it is. If these African-American gentlemen are wearing it as irony, then it’s awesome in its execution. If they’re actually serious however, then this is literally the modern-day equivalent of “Jews for Hitler”, “Hessians for Colonials”, “Cockroaches for Raid”, House Flies for Spiders”, or even more terrifying; “Eddie Van Halen for David Lee Roth”. No offense intended, Sammy Hagar, but we all know who Ed was most jealous of. Despite Ken’s implication that African-Americans support the Not-So-Great-Pumpkin, the reality is a far cry from what Ken would like it to be. Among the African-American community, his base hovers at around the 14% mark, which is about equal to the percentage of African-Americans who want to see a remake of “Shaft” starring yours truly.

Granted, those numbers come from my taking a spontaneous poll among my intimate circle of African-American friends, but I have the advantage of not having lied to them for the last four years, as Trump has done.

Speaking of lies and the liars who tell them, Ken as we’ve come to see, enjoys promoting the bigoted fallacy that when it comes to the problem of violent crime in this country, somehow African-Americans are more prone to commit acts of it then the White community, and if you haven’t surmised already, this is yet another brick in Ken’s racially-tinged wall of profound bigotry. And not too surprisingly, he even has a meme to back it up, which in this, the darkest of modern ages, serves as all the proof that the slack of both jaw and brain need to be convinced. Sigh… I used to have such Hope for Humanity, but now I find myself contemplating how awesome it would be if the mythical God of the hypocritical Evangelicals who support Trump would renege on that *rainbow promise thing he made ages ago.

Other than the fact it lists the source of this so-called information as coming from the “Crime Statistics Bureau- San Francisco”, an agency that does not, and has never existed, the numbers listed upon it, are as fake as the orgasm Trump bragged about giving Stormy Daniels. To note, not only are these numbers completely skewed beyond absurdity, they also paint the United Sates a place where Whites are hunted down in a manner most reminiscent of the short story, The Most Dangerous Game, written by Richard Connell. It took me a while to track down the accurate data to be sure, but it wasn’t that big a chore, even if you aren’t good at that sort of thing. To note, these numbers are from 2015, the same year this racist (and widely debunked) trope was disseminated, but even given current events, I have serious doubts the needle has moved that far South in regards to these stats.


AB: Try 7.6%. But to be fair, the cops are doing a better job of it than you guys, as of late. And to be fair, you people have been more preoccupied going after immigrants, so I can understand why you’re a tad bit behind your projected numbers these days


AB: The available data suggests that it’s closer to 9%, but African-Americans also face a fatality rate 2.8 times higher than Whites. Even more disturbing is the statistic that Black victims were more likely to be unarmed (14.8%) than Whites, (9.4%) which sort of bolsters the widely held public opinion that cops are more than happy to shoot first, and ask questions later, when it comes to their inter-racial encounters with the African-American citizenry of this country.


AB: Oh look- finally a category where Whites finally bring their “A” game, as the rate here is 14%. Way to go Caucasians! You’re making us all very proud. And doing the world a favor, by self-removing yourself from an increasingly stagnating gene pool.


AB: The average is 82.4%, actually. That seems pretty high for a bunch of people who supposedly set the standard for following Law & Order, mayonnaise-boy, but I digress. So sorry to see your narrative of Whites being slaughtered by Blacks going out the proverbial window, but that’s the way the racist vanilla wafer crumbles, I guess.


AB: It’s closer to 14.8 percent, but as we’ve seen, your bigotry impairs your ability to do the merest of research, so we’ll give you a pass. Kind of like how your kindergarten class did when you failed naptime, but on the upside, you did excel at eating paste.


AB: Sadly, it’s 90% to be honest. And while with this one Ken did get close, it’s still seven points off his claim, and only 7.6% higher than White on White rates, a fact I’m sure Ken will ignore in favor of his having a case of the vapors at the thought an African-American family might move in next door, and start doing White people stuff without his permission.

 What I do find interesting about this festering racial idiocy however, is Ken’s focusing it solely on African-Americans, which on one hand, is nice for the other races that need a break from these morons sadly slithering over this Earth, but why is that, exactly? He doesn’t seem to have any issue with Native Americans, Asians, Latinos, or Pacific Islanders, his contempt is seemingly just for African-Americans, and to a lesser extent, the White people who would dare ally themselves with their ongoing fight for true equality. The latter group strikes as particularly offensive to our bigoted bowl of Tapioca, and he’s not afraid to express it, no matter how stupid he sounds to the rest of society at large.

This time around, Ken’s taking a limp-wristed swipe at the valid concept of “White Privilege”, which is described as such: “Inherent advantages possessed by a white person on the basis of their race in a society characterized by racial inequality and injustice.”

Naturally Ken, a middle-aged White guy who lives in a small town in New Mexico, a state which has as many Black people in it as an Osmond cover band, would have the 411 on what African-Americans in this country experience accessing opportunities regarding public education, banking services, home ownership, job access and management potential, representation in the Media, and as we’ve all seen from Ken’s previous crime statistics posting comprised of bulls**t and pure prejudice, the lack of equality when it comes to criminal justice. And of course, since he can’t defend his point of view using actual facts, and is too much of a cuckolded Beta to “man up” and face his blatant bigotry, we’re just going to have to settle with yet another set of memes, whose only purpose seems to prove why his family tree is in such dire need of branches.


 AB: This absolutely f**ked up statement brought to you by a milk-blooded monocultural moron, essentially proves the concept that racism is so American, that when you protest it, people think you are protesting America. But we’re not. The America we protest, and the one Ken thinks should cater to his race alone, is the one that’s spelled “Amerikkka”, and he’s going to be roasting in Hell long before he ever gets to see his fever-dream pass into being. When any of the institutions I listed above deliberately tosses you out of their consideration based on your name alone Ken, then you can bitch. Till then, try not to breed. This planet is already overstocked on inane Wonder Bread analogs as is.

Ken: “Why is it okay for Every race to be proud of their heritage except for white people?”

AB: Nobody has ever said you couldn’t be “proud” of being White, Kimberly. It’s just that when most races celebrate their individuality, they’re not doing so predicated on paranoic nationalism and intolerance for all other races on earth. To be fair, you only seem to have a strong loathing for African-Americans and their allies, so kudos to your focus, but maybe you’d be regarded less as a bigot and more of a neighbor, if you’d use those tiki-torches to illuminate a friendly BBQ, versus lighting up somebody’s front lawn.


AB: As noted earlier, Ken only saves his bigotry for one group of people, that being African Americans alone, but I’m sure it truly has nothing to do with their skin color. Just because he consistently rants about BLM, black athletes, and bogus crime statistics regarding the African-American community, is no reason to infer he hates them. Maybe it’s as simple as his still being really hurt that his Black neighbors didn’t come to his Kwanzaa party last year, despite his celebration banquet game being full-on ballin’.

Ken: “99.9% of White people were born without the White Privilege Gene!”

AB: Considering what we’ve seen of Ken’s skillset in relation to researching statistics, we’ll just assume the actual ratio is lower than his IQ, and leave it at that. And I can assure you that when it comes to “missing” certain genes, Ken’s personal list is probably quite the extensive one. It’s almost as if when God was assembling him, he did it right before he had a hot date coming up, on a Friday at 4pm.


AB: As with most things cooked up in the cobwebbed attic that masquerades as Ken’s brain, no it’s not. No White person is protesting any other White person for “being White”- they never have, and they never will. What is being openly objected to however, is when privileged douches of the Vanilla vanguard (like Ken) who have as much experience being Black as they do dealing with the repercussions of being so, comes along and feels they alone get to not only dictate how and when Black people are allowed to react, but feel that they’re also the authority to set the terms for doing so as well. What is real though, is Ken’s quickly dawning terror at his fellow Caucasians not getting on board with his bigotry, his ignorance and his desire to openly subjugate an entire culture he thinks are inferior to him and his milquetoast genetic sequence.

I’ve said it before, and I’m sadly certain I will have to say it again, but why is it that the greatest “champions” of the White Race always turn out to be the absolutely worst examples of it? If Ken and his ilk are the best of the breeding stock, no wonder there’s so many humorous incidents involving these guys and Fleshlights.

But obsessing over how the African-American community comparts itself isn’t his only hobby, not by a long shot. Ken’s other favored target of faux outrage is coincidentally the very same online soapbox that  he uses to push his racist agenda to begin with, and despite the myriad of conservative social media platforms that cater to his braindead brood, such as Parler, (where Ken’s alleged to be a newer member) Codias, and the currently offline Gab, Ken still maintains a healthy presence on the ol’ Facebook nonetheless, despite his sad and faithful loyalty to a conspiracy theory that FB “censors” conservatives. Where this idiocy springs from, is the confusion centered around the arbitrary vagueness of FB’s community standards rules, which can result in content on your page being removed, your account seeing itself barred from posting, or even being put in the infamous “Facebook Jail”, a harsh penalty which can result in platform suspensions lasting hours, or even weeks.

And for the most egregious cases of violation, accounts can not only be removed, but the violators can find themselves placed on a banned-for-life from the platform list, much in the way that I am in regards to Twitter. Something BTW, I’m still exceedingly proud of, and that I’ve written about previously.

 Now, as someone who has been subject to some of these actions in the past, this paranoia from the Right-wing movement that they’re the only ones being held to account strikes me yet again, as no more than an unfounded and rationalized self-victimization ploy in order to garner sympathy for their ignorant personal biases. Interestingly, when the social media giant known as Twitter tried to crack down on neo-Nazi / White-supremacist content using an algorithmic approach, it was alleged by Vice’s tech-news agency Motherboard, that by doing so, it could possibly target and report the public accounts of Republican politicians. In response, Twitter issued a strong rebuttal to this possibly brand-damaging story, stating: “The information cited from the ‘sources’ in this story has absolutely no basis in fact. The characterization of the exchange at the meeting of March 22nd is also completely factually inaccurate. There are no simple algorithms that find all abusive content on the Internet and we certainly wouldn’t avoid turning them on for political reasons,”  

I can’t ascertain if this is true or not for myself, due to my exile from a Land where a pumpkin-tinted Twitler-in-Chief is allowed to let his thumbs run free with almost no consequences, but this fact alone in my opinion, sort of negates Ken’s snowflake paranoia regarding most of the social platforms in general, methinks. And if it doesn’t, why is he still using FB then? A question I’ll come back to in a moment, but first, let’s see what he has to say yet again about a topic that showcases his ignorant hypocrisy to the delight of all of us.  And per his usual tack, it starts with a laughable lie.

Ken: “Facebook said if you support the NRA you will get kicked off. Well let’s experiment. I support the NRA. How about you?”

AB: Wow. What a bunch of un-American, black-hearted, censoring bast… wait a second, if you’re not allowed to “support the NRA”, and it’s a given you will get kicked off the platform for doing so, then why does the NRA still have a currently active Facebook page, which was established in 2013, and how is it possible for 4,872,939 people who obviously support it to still be “following” it?  Not to mention, the scores of active FB pages that broadcast their backing of it daily? Oh Ken, did you post without doing the merest of research again, you abominably stupid little scamp? Of course, you did, because when it comes to spreading your particular variety of mental manure, you’re more reliable than an Ex-Lax milkshake. When one (in this case, me as usual) bothers to check the validity of this meme, the following *information turns up, which contradicts in full, this bogus claim and Ken’s belief in such. What a shock. I’m starting to surmise that given Ken’s penchant for always being wrong, he’s the only guy who could start building a boat in his garage, and wind up with the finished product and his house, resembling the Hindenburg. *[https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/factcheck/2020/09/16/fact-check-facebook-not-removing-nra-supporters/5551125002/]

Not only is the NRA not mentioned at all by FB as being in violation of any of the site’s own community standards, the only restrictions that Ken might even claim FB has in place, aren’t even remotely close to what actually exists. That centering on the prohibition of using the site for weapon purchase or exchange, as well as forbidding the posting of explicit directives on the manufacturing of weapons, if there’s evidence of a goal to seriously injure or kill people, and that’s it. And before Ken starts to  warm up any of his further Facebook conspiracies as a deflection, may I just point out that Hillary and Obama aren’t going to jail, vaccines don’t cause autism, the Muslims aren’t instilling Sharia law in our schools or communities, cash is still accepted at Walmart, the Lord’s Prayer isn’t banned either, and no matter how much you post about it, not only are those gun-control Liberals who mock you on FB are your social betters, and most likely, that’s hands down, without breaking a sweat.


 AB: Should I point out to our fearful buzzword quoting friend that other than the “free” part, he literally and perfectly described the very concept of American Private enterprise? To be fair though, Ken wouldn’t know what Socialism really is, even if it directly deposited his Mom’s Social Security check into her FDIC-insured bank account, so I guess I’ll have to put my POV in such a way that even Ken can wrap his closed-off mind around it:

America is the perfect example of Capitalism. You pay through the nose for everything but the quality of Life still sucks. You have no say in how it really works. The guy you toil for gets rich off your effort, and you get to let him. You have no your privacy since you willingly bought a cellphone, signed up for social media, and bought Alexa for your house. There’s competition, but it’s all relatively based around the tenets of sheer survival. And if you say anything about a living wage, women’s body autonomy, or healthcare for all, they’ll label you with words they don’t know the meaning of. But, if you consistently say things that are vulgar, racist, xenophobic, misogynistic, elitist, or display stunning incompetence in public, they’ll either give you a TV Show, or elect you President.

 And Ken, much like many Socialistic countries, which our fair America has more than a few things in common with, as the one example above shows, you can always as you Conservatives are overly fond of saying, “leave if you don’t like it”. There’s the door, Felecia, so don’t let it hit ya’ where the mythical Lord split ya’. And for once, I’m not referring to your psyche.


 B: Guy who posts fake facts constantly, is annoyed by being called out for posting them, which quite honestly, is funny as f**k. And while I say that Milla Jovovich should come over every weekend for whipped-cream wrestling and Jell-O body-shots, that still doesn’t mean it’s going to ever come true, sad to say. And don’t get me started on how painful that truth is either, as my therapist says we’ll be all be here for days, and trust me, you don’t want that. Just like how Ken doesn’t want facts, he wants validation, which due to the fact that I’m a people-person, I’ll be more than happy to give him: Ken, you are unarguably a valid example of what parents on this Earth refer to as a “bad example”, so at least you have that going for you which is nice.

And since the love-fest vibe is going so strong, I won’t even point out that according to the FBI, it’s actually the White Supremacy movement that’s the number-one concern regarding the ongoing and increasingly violent, domestic terrorism. Oh, let’s be honest, I’m totally going to point it out. From the link listed below, here is a nice big hole punched through the very fabric of Ken’s white-hooded hokum, and no, you don’t have to thank me, Ken. The fact of knowing I’ve gotten you to read something other than a meme for once, is all the acknowledgement I require:

 *“Violent extremists are increasingly using social media for the distribution of propaganda, recruitment, target selection, and incitement to violence. Through the Internet, violent extremists around the world have access to our local communities to target and recruit like-minded individuals and spread their messages of hate on a global scale.

The recent attack at the Chabad of Poway Synagogue in Poway, California, not only highlights the enduring threat of violence posed by domestic terrorists, but also demonstrates the danger presented by the propagation of these violent acts on the Internet.

The attacker in Poway referenced the recent mosque attacks in Christchurch, New Zealand, and we remain concerned that online sharing of livestreamed attack footage could amplify viewer reaction to attacks and provide ideological and tactical inspiration to other domestic terrorists in the homeland.”


 AB: *sigh* One day Ken will be right about something but when he is, it’ll be akin to a tree falling in the forest when nobody’s around to see or hear it. Sure, maybe it happened the way he’ll say it did, but how will he ever be able to prove it? For the record, FB is both a platform and while not the originator of the content published within it, still has the right to control what is posted and how it’s being disseminated, being a privately held business and all that. A quick refresher course for Ken and all of his First Amendment morons who have obviously never read the Constitution.

To note; “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”

If it isn’t clear to you what the point is, it’s that the government isn’t allowed to stifle what you say, no matter how ignorant or asinine it is. Notice BTW, that nowhere in there, does it say anything about a private business not having the right to moderate its own metaphorical lands. And Ken? You willingly surrendered certain privileges when you signed up for a service you don’t financially support, so spare us your whining just because you didn’t read the rules and think that they shouldn’t apply to you.

Ken: “Facebook is spreading false information via their “fact checker” They’re calling true stories fake”

AB: OMFG, the irony is so thick here, I could use it for a security door, if need be. This trolling troglodyte wants you all to know that despite his track record of posting fraudulent factoids and non-occurring narratives, that it’s not he and others of his ilk who should be distrusted, no, the real culpability for the influx of imbecilic insidiousness plaguing our society should be squarely laid at the feet of  the ol’ Facebook, and not its abusers like Ken, who feel their disingenuousness should be ignored for the sake of their easily offended snowflake egos. And therein lies the hypocritical rub- there’s other social media platforms that directly cater to people who share Ken’s POV, but they also don’t have the same opportunity for their members to acquire the ego-strokes they need to feel relevant in the same way that FB does.

With no due respect, these pathetic candy-asses live lives of screeching desperation at best, and the only thing that fills their emotional void is the belief that they have a direct effect on others, past the point of serving as a valid warning as to why the reality of engaging in coitus with your siblings is such an unwise notion. But maybe I should play Devil’s Advocate here- after all, what harm could come from listening to a guy who posts racially-fraudulent statistics, paranoid delusions, and blows bigoted dog-whistles as if he were Stormy Daniels having a full day at work? I’m sure it would work out fine. Even if we did, it isn’t as if we’d go and elect a racist, vulgar misogynistic, cravenly, lying narcissistic, sexual predator into the highest office in the land, right? Oh, wait…

Speaking of elections, we do have one coming up relatively soon, and rest assured, Ken’s got some opinions regarding that too. And don’t worry, I’m almost certain that they’re going to be based on facts, and not the skin color of the VP pick, or on any credence he’s given to obsessive conspiracy theories. Because you know… my childlike optimism and all that jazz.

Ken: “Biden the Cancel Culture and the Party of Hate.”

AB: This statement brought to you by a seemingly obsessed bigot who’s political party members once “owned” Kellogg’s Cereal, by flushing already paid for products down their toilets, because Kellogg’s had pulled it’s advertising from Breitbart. In addition, these MENSA rejects also filmed themselves smashing their $150.00 Keurig coffee makers, due to the company pulling its marketing off of the hour that Sean Hannity uses to terrify old White people. after he defended then-Senate candidate and alleged pedophile, Roy Moore who was running for the Senate at the time. Take into consideration that Ken’s failure of a President is currently endorsed by both the Proud Boys and the KKK, and you’ll understand my need to digress, if only for the sake of laughing my ass off

Ken: “Wow! https://www.walmart.com/…/Hot-Cup-Of-Joe-A-Pipin…/314238205 (Marcus Rogers) This is a real book at Walmart. It’s on their website. Trying to market Joe Biden as a sex symbol to kids? Why a coloring book? https://www.walmart.com/…/Hot-Cup-Of-Joe-A-Pipin…/314238205”

AB: Ok, a few things to address here- first, this coloring book was only sold online, never having been placed in any stores, and was obviously targeted at voting-age adults, with a good sense of humor, a trait Ken clearly does not have. Its marketing was never aimed at children, but who cares about that, when you can pretend to get offended? Second, I don’t think it’s the overall content that Ken has an issue with, but the fact that if they ever made one featuring his gilded Golem, the only reason people would be interested in wanting to purchase it would be for its practical use as either a dartboard, or as kindling for a campfire.

Ken: “Biden removed “Under God” from The Pledge of Allegiance!”

AB: To quote Joe; “Will you shut up, man?” Because, JFC, you are a supreme f**king ignoramus of almost Biblical proportions, and I say this as someone who used to live in Phoenix, a town that once thought allowing guns into bars was a good idea. What Ken is lying about here is the debunked slur that the axiom “under God” which was officially inserted into the Pledge by an act of Congress on Flag Day in 1954, was omitted from two presentations of the Pledge of Allegiance during the 2020 DNC.

From Snopes.com: ”The DNC did not issue any guidelines forbidding the use of the phrase. On the national stage, the phrase “under God” was used during the recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance at the start of each night of the 2020 DNC.”

Despite this latest bats**t crazy untruth emanating from the very same guy who fibbed about the opening night numbers of the RNC, this shouldn’t really be taken as a purposeful lie in any way, shape, or form, though. After all, your typical Conservative Christian doesn’t even practice the teachings of Christ to begin with, so how can you realistically expect them to recognize his name when it’s mentioned?

As you’ve come to expect, I’ve saved the so-called best for last. While I’m confident I could write about Ken for the next six months, given the trove of information I’ve amassed regarding his non-stop hate-meme machine, I’ll hopefully close off our interaction with this final gasp of inanity where he confirms one last time (for this story-arc anyway) that his knowledge of how the Constitution works is as solid as his grasp regarding the concept that if he lives long enough to see himself become a member of the minority race in America, he’d better hope the ones in the majority still want equality, and not revenge.


Ken: “Of Jamaican and Indian descent, suddenly Kamala Harris is “Black”. Amazing.”

AB: Ok… I’m not sure if Ken is offended by Kamala not using a hyphenated descriptor to assist in his genuine desire to racially slur her correctly in his eyes, but I’m pretty sure that he could still use one of the anti-Black variants and still be allowed to attend the flaming BBQ’s, regardless. So, what moniker would work best for your pathetically sad needs, Ken? Maybe, we should give you some direction by suggesting she’s a “Jamindian”, an “Indijama”, or perhaps even the rare and exotic “Jamindaican”? Feel free to use whichever one rolls the easiest off your pasty White lips and that Kool-Ade-coated-worm you call a tongue. Consider it as a last parting gift from me to you.

And just ignore the data that the vast majority of Jamaicans are of African descent, and are the end result of widespread mixed ancestry, based on the interrelation of numerous subgroups of Europeans, East Indians, the Chinese, and Middle Easterners that have been amalgamated together. But there is an upside to knowing this factoid. Just think how many new and offensive epithets you’ll be able to whip up in-between those moments when you’re embarrassing yourself on social media!

Ken: “Kamala Harris was born October 20, 1964, in Oakland, California. Her mother was a Tamil Indian, her father a Jamaican. Both were immigrants who had not naturalized, thus were not citizens, when Kamala was born. As the definition of “natural born citizen” states, the person must be born to parents who are citizens. So she can’t be president or VP!”

AB: Somewhere in Florida right now, there’s a happily retired High School civics teacher, sitting on their patio, sipping a tall glass of Long Island Iced Tea, and feeling a disturbance in the Force, as if the Founding Fathers were rolling over in their graves, and crying out; “Can somebody please hit Mr. S**t-for-brains upside his head with a truck?” For not only is Ken wrong as usual, he’s wretchedly so. The clause he’s incorrectly referencing is as such: “No Person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the Office of President; neither shall any Person be eligible to that Office who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty-five Years, and been fourteen Years a Resident within the United States.”

If you’re paying attention, nowhere in there does it say anything about the parents having to be United States citizens, and due to the virtue of her birth in California, Harris is a natural-born U.S. citizen. Parental citizenship is relevant to an individual’s citizenship status ONLY if the individual is born outside of the United States. And according to the big brains working overtime at the Cornell Legal Information Institute; “Anyone born on U.S. soil and subject to its jurisdiction is a natural born citizen, regardless of parental citizenship,” So feel free to go and perform an act of fellatio on a flaming cross, Ken.

Let us also not forget that Ken introduces a subtle hint of conspiracy, by implying that the Democrats would knowingly and openly, run an illegal candidate for one of the highest offices in the land, and what… pray that nobody would notice? Unlike Ken’s team, we currently don’t have any illegally appointed people sitting in offices with authority they didn’t earn, but better luck with your other theories that most likely involve lizard-people-hybrids maintaining Ronald Reagan’s frozen corpse for an as yet unnamed future use.

 You don’t like African-Americans, Ken. We get it. You can’t be bothered to do even the most rudimentary of research. We get it. You’re a hypocrite when comparing Trump’s foibles against those of others. We get it. You distrust all Media outlets, except the ones that agree with your bigoted POV. We get it. Cops being held accountable for their actions makes you really mad. We get it. Being fact-checked and being repeatedly proven wrong, causes you to become furious. We get it. Your incompetently dangerous President being openly mocked and despised, makes you feel like you’re being personally attacked. We get it. None of your outfits look good with that stupid red hat Trump demands you wear to his ego rallies. We get it. Women would rather ride a bull’s sandpaper-wrapped horns, than admit to getting it on with you. We get it. You say “All Lives Matter”, as long as the White ones come first. We get it. You think the White race is being marginalized- that is, except when it’s under consistent attack from a culture whose members you probably tell friends, swing from trees. We get it. Black people demanding equal rights makes your testicles retract. We get it, but honestly…

You should probably go see a doctor about that, and definitely sooner than later. Check yourself, before you wreck yourself, and all that.

 But let me tell you what I don’t get about you, Ken. You grew up in a place where African-Americans are as rare as faithful Christian husbands at a GOP political fundraiser, and yet, you still managed to develop an obsessive tard-on for Black people that makes no bloody sense. Living here, I can understand if you’ve developed an aversion to cinnamon and vanilla, but chocolate? Not so much. The chances of seeing someone Black in the small town I now live in, is akin to a pack of Debbie Harry clones sitting radiantly atop a herd of Unicorns that are thundering, through my living room. Am I optimistic that it could happen? Yes, but not so much that I’d place any money on the possibility anytime soon.

So, I just have to ask this question, if only to satisfy my intellectual curiosity- how does someone who looks normal on the outside, transmute into such a hateful sack of bigoted babbling protoplasm? Did Idris Elba happen to steal one of your grade-school girlfriends? Were you raised by a pack of overly protective white supremacist werewolves? Did a number of those ACME anvils from the old Bugs Bunny cartoons fall out of the sky, and land on your head?

I once said (and wrote) that visiting Utah was like being trapped inside a Bayer Aspirin bottle floating on a sea of milk, but I may have to rethink that, after moving to the high desert of New Mexico, and discovering that some of the truly whitest people alive live here, and a far-too-great number of them still haven’t accepted the fact that the 15th Amendment was ratified.

Fortunately, I get to say with an amount of greater relief, that despite this demographic which needs to spend more of their free time with a book, rather than just their cattle and a TV forever tuned to FOX, there’s far less people like Ken, then there are the ones who proudly carry the flags of the causes he hates so much- you know, the ones where everyone gets treated like a person, rather than as a meme or statistical talking point? And the truly wonderful takeaway from all of this? Ken knows it. He knows down deep that he’s going to live long enough to see another United States President of color. He knows he’ll live long enough to see his kind die on the vine, and out in the open, under the blazing light of progressive equality. And he knows that he’ll live long enough to see his rhetoric fail and fall by the wayside, as the tenets of racism, much like the movement he currently worships more than his mythical God, gets relegated to the dustbin of History, where it belongs.

 A place that I’m sure Ken will visit multiple times as he gets older, if only for the nostalgia.

 To quote the late and great Kurt Vonnegut; “So it goes”. And go it does, as do I. But when I come back… oh, who in the hell knows? I’m just winging it as I go along, but here’s some guesses: I talk about the art of growing a true plague beard, I rave about “The Orville, one of the best sci-fi shows on the air, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll introduce you to yet another person so-called, who shows exactly why McDonalds should have removed those lead-tainted promotional cups out of their stores long before July of 1977.

 “Prejudice wears a variety of hats, none of them becoming.”- Kevin Ansbro












Hateriot Lames PT.3 (You Ken leave your Hate on)

“As you grow older, you’ll see white men cheat black men every day of your life, but let me tell you something and don’t you forget it- whenever a white man does that to a black man, no matter who he is, how rich he is, or how fine a family he comes from, that white man is trash.” – Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

Hello Blogiteers!

A question for the assembled crowd at large: is there truly anything more damaging to the legacy of Humanity than the sin of pridefully virulent racism? And yes, while I know that the social acceptance of both Crocs and Twinkie cereal actually existing is disheartening, what I’m talking about here to be specific, is the kind of purposeful stupidity you only see openly displayed by the countenance of your average Trump supporter. This in and of itself, is not too shocking, considering their Pavlovian response to the racist dog whistles heralded forth by a tin-plated demagogue. In front of people. With cameras. That record everything he says. And does. And implies. Statements and actions so grotesquely contrary to what America stands for, he should just go the full nine yards and persuade *Hugo Boss AG to revisit some of their earlier design concepts for the NAZI uniforms they so proudly used to make, and become his exclusive clothier for all of his future Nuremberg cosplay rallies.

*[Hugo Boss was a German fashion designer and entrepreneur, who founded the still-in-existence clothing company Hugo Boss AG, Boss was also a loyal member of the Nazi Party as far back as 1931. The company, using a work-force partially comprised of Polish and French POW slave laborers, was responsible for the production of the uniforms of the SS, the SA, and the Hitler Youth. But hey, they did graciously offer a sincere “apology” for doing so in 1999 after a lawsuit was filed by Holocaust survivors, so I guess we should totally grant them a tree within the quiet serenity that is the Garden of the Righteous Among the Nations in Jerusalem, am I right?]

However, if ignorance is truly Zen as suggested by many, then what flows through the conscious mind of your average Trump cultist must make a *Carfentanil smoothie look like a glass of tap-water by comparison. Which is amazing in retrospect, since the best their idiot leader has ever managed to whip up is Adderall in a sippy-cup. That aside, the evidence of a sheer mental dissociation from reality that I’ve observed among the members of the **RHB, has only lent credence to my working theory that America is currently infested with sociopathic half-wits who view racism, paranoia, and pridefully abject stupidity, with the exact same respectful awe that I as a 13 year old, once happily expressed towards the iconic Phoebe Cates coming-out-of-the-pool scene in 1982’s “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”. You know… because of the cinematography?

*[Carfentanil is an opioid that is 10,000x stronger than morphine and 100x more potent than fentanyl. Intended as a tranquilizer for elephants, it is not intended for use in humans. This does raise the question though- how does a pachyderm react if its normally dependable bag-man runs out of the soaked-in-happy peanuts it craves? You’ve seen how a shopper at Walmart responds when asked nicely to wear a mask, so my guess it’s something like that, but with far less morbid obesity.] **[Red Hat Brigade]

Regardless of where you fall within the political spectrum as of late, it’s become fairly clear to even the most traditionally stolid conservative among us, that America is no longer casting its fabled beacon of light to the world. If anything, we’ve become that one embarrassing friend that just says, and does, whatever the hell comes to mind, irrespective of the appropriateness or situation at hand.

Granted, our friends and allies may not say anything about it to us at the time, but you just know the minute we turn to go grab a cigarette or refill our drink, the forcefully whispered question that gets asked of the hapless host is “Who the f**k invited America, and why? Seriously England, you couldn’t get a ride with anybody else? Your lack of self-respect is exactly the reason why France never returns your 3am booty calls.” In reference to allegedly possessing truly no measurable sense of dignity or personal self-reflection, todays screed will offer up a possible solution to the query as to what might occur if one allowed functional illiteracy and former Grand Wizard of the KKK David Duke, to have a hate-f**k quickie inside the *Ehrentempel, and then purposefully orphaned the resultant branchless family tree within the borders of New Mexico’s high desert.

*[Ehrentempel, (AKA: The Honor Temples) were two edifices erected by the Nazis in 1935 Munich, and housed sixteen sarcophagi of NAZI party members who had been killed during the ill-fated Beer hall putsch that occurred in 1923.]

 However, before I introduce you to a person who seemingly thinks that the Freedoms granted by the Constitution don’t truly apply to individuals that in private and select company he might refer to as “uppity”, when he’s not stating that they’re 3/5 his worth, I’d like to offer up a tasting menu of sorts first, if I may. You know, to prepare your palate for the rotting soul of what’s to come. As I’ve noted more than a few times within the last few pieces of stand-alone writing, where I currently live is at most times, somewhat bucolic and rather laid-back. It’s quite rare in fact, for me to find myself face-to-face with people that truly deserve to be deep-massaged with a baseball bat, and that suits the ol’ psyche just fine these days.

New me, and all that happy jazz, you know. But when it comes to interacting with select citizenry of my humble burg online? Holy Mother of Monkey-milk, you’d swear that the national chapter of Anti-MENSA was headquartered here. Even when given the sadly tragic fact that the state of New Mexico ranks fiftieth in public education, it still doesn’t fully explain why the intellectual void here is seemingly so bottomless when it comes to the dire lack of comprehension regarding the tenets of actual reality.

To note some unique points of view expressed by more than a few of my fellow online denizens:

Masks are an integral facet of a deep-state government plot designed to control Americans, white people are really the “true victims” of systemic racism, Bill Gates wants to both inject us with a mind-control serum, and “chip” us with a tracking device, Obama will secretly run the White House if Biden wins, unless of course, Biden immediately resigns and turns it over to Kamala Harris, who is in all actuality, not even an American citizen, and therefore ineligible to run for VP.

And when it comes to the several-months-long civil rights protests occurring on our streets? Well, don’t for a moment think that they’re truly about police brutality and inequality, because according to our soon-to-be-named and totally self-appointed Professor of African-American Cultural studies, nothing could be farther from the truth. Well, his version of the “truth”, anyway. As presented by him, the real victims of today’s racist discrimination are the White Race, and the dastardly perpetrators of such are in no way, shape, or form, the multiple extremist Alt-right organizations we’ve all come to be aware of, but liberals, who, using the machinery of mainstream media, are whipping up a frenzied race-war in order to lay down the fecund groundwork for a society where Whites will eventually become the minority.

But this theorem does raise a question… if, as these people claim, racism doesn’t exist and there is no systemic bias inherent within the systems of America, then why would they worry about becoming a member of a minority group? Fortunately for us, today’s blog honoree has a few opinions as to why that might be. In an unforeseen plot twist, it seems that BLM is not working to raise the awareness of cultural inequality, but are in fact, domestic terrorists, hellbent on either killing every white person on Earth, or maybe subjugating them, depending on the day.

Thankfully, this will not occur until after they move into your neighborhood and decrease your property values first. Lock up your suburban housewives, because the Schwarzes are coming sooner than later, and worst of all, when they arrive, they’re going to kill all the “good” cops. That is, if there’s any cops left, if the Demorat Commie Marxist Socialist Soy-Boy Book-reading Libtards from California don’t defund them out of existence first.

 And when it comes to the ravage of COVID-19, the virus that was created in a lab by deep State operative Dr. Fauci and funded by George Soros, it’s not a “pandemic”, but a “scamdemic”. And in a gambit I honestly never saw coming, I had somebody unrelated to my current blog subject claim (with a straight typeface, no less) that their “cousin” was killed earlier that week when he was run down by a semi-truck.

Now in situ, this sort of gruesome end is not, nor should it ever be, considered as a laughing matter on any level. But here’s where this assuredly true tale got strange. Despite this demise obviously resulting from the unintentionally best cosplay of a windshield bug ever presented to the public at large, the official cause of expiry was listed as “COVID” on the death certificate. Because as we all know by now, the nation’s hospitals, doctors, nurses, and apparently coroners as well, get a sweet kickback whenever they tick off another box on the COVID corpse list.

I’m not sure who’s doling out all those dead presidents, but apparently that cash is being invested far and wide. Granted, given the lack of evidence, and the ridiculousness of said narrative, you might be somewhat skeptical as to the validity of this person’s account, but rest assured, I was all over it. Letting him know that I was a professional (occasionally) writer, I suggested we get this story out there and expose the “truth”, because let’s face it, how sexy and awesome would it be to have a Pulitzer Prize for investigative journalism sitting on the shelf next to my Buzz Lightyear toys?

Plus, an all-expenses paid trip to NYC? Count me in, you son-of-a-bitch.

So, like any competent journalist, I asked for his cousins’ name (he couldn’t remember it) what city this happened in (he wasn’t sure) what state (ditto) and how such an event had somehow not only been overlooked by the 24/7 news cycle of local and national media outlets, but the whole of Google as well. His response to that? Crickets…  and deaf-mute ones, at that. Sure, it’s been close to three months, but I’m confident he’ll get that information to me any day now. Unless of course, the cabal behind this hoax virus arranged an unforeseen toaster-related “accident” to keep him from talking. All, things are possible I guess, when you’ll fall for anything in the first place, no matter how insanely convoluted its essence might be.

I often poke great fun at those I feel (and can usually prove) to be stunningly ignorant, but even I’ll have the occasional dumb as a brick moment, as we all do. However, when it comes to the intellectual chasm between my once thinking that cooking bacon in the nude would work out okay and a stranger espousing that an entire race is inferior based on no more than a quirk in melanin, I’m fairly confident that nobody of particular note is going to hold my momentary density against me in the long run. And that’s even with the now public knowledge that I still proudly own every album that A Flock of Seagulls ever released.

(And after seeing that sweet sense of fashion, you no longer need ask why, methinks.)

But to make sure we’re all on the same page, let me just define via the online Miriam Webster dictionary, just exactly what racism is for those of you who may somehow, may have not been paying attention since you’ve been born. To quote; “Racism is defined as: 1: a belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race. 2a: a doctrine or political program based on the assumption of racism and designed to execute its principles. 2b: a political or social system founded on racism. 3: racial prejudice or acts of discrimination.”

This all seems pretty clear, does it not? However, to a person who is ardently racist, they might as well be gazing through a picture window frosted in Vantablack. For not only do they see themselves as not being racist, they truly believe that racism doesn’t exist in the first place. Why is this, you ask? Because they once “let” an African-American serve as our president, after previously “letting” 43 old white men do the job for the first 232 years of this country’s existence. How progressive of them.

Now, if memory serves correctly, I’m sure we can all recall with great fondness, how racially peaceful this transition was. You never heard of people questioning Obama’s citizenship, his sexual preference, his religious faith, his faithful marriage, his wife’s gender, his children’s biological status, and most definitely, never his sense of patriotism, right? Not to mention, we never saw any truly vile and visual representations of racism either, now did we?

I’m sorry, did a vibe of awkwardness just descend, or is it just over the area where the “Racism is a Myth” crowd have their heads buried? Oh, who am I kidding- if these lowbrow Neanderthals aren’t embarrassed by the stench of their own ignorance, I doubt they’ll feel any sense of shame in regards to their racist hypocrisy either. Why does it always seem that the greatest “champions” of the White race are always the worst examples of it?

Sure, it has to start your life out on a rough patch when it’s eventually revealed that your sister and mother are the same person, but lots of people have experienced the pain of not knowing who their father actually was, and didn’t go on to become full-fledged members of a Klan re-enactors group.

To be clear, I’m not suggesting that today’s blog subject is in any way, shape, or shade (pun intended) guilty of being a White supremacist, but this in my opinion, is probably more due to the fact that they couldn’t pass the very arduous talent portion of the audition where you’re expected to build both a wooden cross, and then set it aflame without spilling the moonshine all over yourself, rather than any notable lack of personal ambition.

That is not to imply that our subject of the moment lacks the ability to become a flag bearer for the Civil Rights movement, it’s just to sadly note that his current intellectual grasp regarding the ideals of such would be considered a viable asset only within the Aaryan agrarian charisma of what was once 1964 Mississippi.

As the saying goes: “Evil never dies, It merely waits. And it grows stronger in the dark.” Sadly, or happily, depending on your perspective, Evil is wide out in the open these days, proudly aided by our troglodyte leader and living its best life. Times may change, racist headgear comes and goes, but the ethnic intolerance playbook remains exactly the same.

The tried and true tropes of gaslighting, stereotyping, half-truths, full lies, victim-blaming, and unfounded moral superiority all get their turn at bat, and the only thing that gets switched out are the names and ethnicity of the scapegoats. And when it comes to those, Lord knows our next batter’s box bitch has his list ready to go.

So, without any further ado, may I gladly introduce our next prime example of what happens when you take a MAGA hat and provide it with the barest minimum of sentience, a true American Patriot, a noble warrior in the fight against applying rationality and the bestowing of human dignity equally, a man armed with more racist memes and pustular points of debate than you could ever hang with a rope, and who also manages to make God reconsider that rainbow promise he once made to Noah at least twice a day, lords and ladies, may I present for your perusal, the unfortunately not alone, but definitely the one and only…

KEN CYKALA!!!  [Deafening lack of crickets……. ]

 Um… people? This is where you clap, remember? Yes, I know, but let’s try to be polite anyways. After all, Ken did take the time out from his busy schedule of embarrassing himself online to remind us all why we need to fund both public education and birth control in this country so badly, along with showing exactly why use of the Internet should require an IQ test first, so let’s give him some begrudging respect. Even if it’s only because he serves as such a fine example of what a bad example looks like.

Besides as liberals, we’re supposed to set the bar when it comes to offering an olive branch to those whose genealogy chart presents as a straight line, and if we don’t do it for this guy, then whom shall we offer it to down the road? That’s what I thought. There’s no need to be rude just because I happen to believe that he allegedly may have the theme from Birth of a Nation as his ringtone, now is there? Of course not.

I first encountered Ken in the comment section of my local newspaper where we engaged in a little back and forth debate- or to be more accurate, I debated, Ken just inanely pontificated, and let me tell you, this guy is a real hoot, Not only is he all in with Blue Lives Matter, (Cops lives, not Smurfs) he’s also pro-Trump, anti-BLM, Anti-Antifa, Anti-Michelle Obama, and man, is he ever so proud to be White.

If Ken were a character in a PIXAR movie, he’d either be depicted as an overly paranoid vanilla shake, or as an overly angry jar of mayonnaise. Granted, it’s not like he’s walking around wearing a Hooded ensemble before, during, and after Labor Day, but he definitely will let you know that it’s us, the White people who are the ones that are truly being persecuted because of our ethnicity, and don’t let reality tell you any different. “I’m not embarrassed to be White!”, he’ll say, and the response from most people upon hearing this most likely will be, “Sir, that’s great and all, but this is a McDonald’s drive-thru.”

And while I have no proof of this, he strikes me as the type of person who when he was a kid, deliberately colored outside the lines for no other reason than the fact that those lines just happened to be Black, and he wasn’t going to buy into that sort of bias against his race. Essentially, in my opinion, he’s what a sentient communion wafer might turn out to be if you gave it internet access and a dogeared copy of The Turner Diaries.

In my observation, Ken is one of those awfully wistful throwbacks to a far simpler time when America was “great”. Women were in the kitchen, making the lord of the house a martini, never once expressing their opinion, all the presidents had always been White and old, Latinos were out in the fields picking lettuce, there were no openly gay people demanding that they be granted the right to marry. in fact, there were no openly Gay people at all, so thanks for that, Obama! And most certainly, there wasn’t any of those uppity Negroes consistently demanding to be treated as if they had the same rights as White people. What a time to be alive, let me tell you.

Since I’m speaking of fantasy narratives, one of the truly curious things that I have noticed among the majority of those who openly promote racially biased divisiveness, is the fact that none of them willingly self-identify as being racist, and they most certainly don’t appreciate it when others bestow such an accurate label upon them, either. For people who like to talk incessantly about how “White Lives Matter”, they seem awfully gun-shy when it comes to openly embracing their bigotry.

In a weird twist of irony, they hate being called racist, but not enough to actually stop being racist. If I was gifted a Confederate flag for every time I was told by one of these White Pride Pinheads that they “have black friends/family/co-workers”, or my personal hands-down favorite, that because they “love Michael Jackson”, it proves that they’re not racist, I’d have accumulated enough of those Starred and Barred banners to decorate either the newest Klan Summer Kamp out in the wilds of North Idaho, or your average Trump rally held anywhere. Come to think of it, there’s really not much difference twixt the two, save for the different colored headgear that identifies just how racist, just how gullible, and just how inbred they actually are.

Because, despite their proudly waving a flag that symbolizes not pride but treason, they’re sadly posing as Alphas, when they’re obviously cuckolded Betas. Factor in their paying for made-in-China merchandise to promote a disloyal demagogue who has proven time and time again, that he would use them as cannon fodder to save himself, if it came right down to it, and you just know that this cowardly coven of Caucasians would still persist under the fevered delusional denial that they, and they alone, are the ones who represent what America stands for.

But they don’t, they never have, and they never will.  And down deep, next to their constantly bubbling bile, and what remains of their souls, they know it too. However, what is really and unintentionally hilarious, is that when these troglodytes whose collective intellect matches that of a mayonnaise sandwich, screech at immigrants that they need to “go back to their country”, they wave the flag of a country that doesn’t exist, within the very same country that defeated it. Hence, the reason why there’s a need to never stop bragging about their unfounded dominant relevance. They’re “owning the Libs”, they’ll say, but considering their inability to hold onto actual reality, I doubt they’ll be able to figure out a way to purchase a sizeable demographic that as a rule, is way smarter than them.

Now, when it comes to the subject of one’s intelligence, let me just say that in all fairness, not every Trump supporter is an idiot. It’s far more accurate to note that they are petulantly angry members of a cult that consumes both intellect and humanity, and spits it back out in the form of incoherent hate. This molded inanity presents itself under a variety of semblances, ranging from homophobia to misogyny, but the one constant theme that this flatulent fan base holds onto with the same death grip that I do in regards to a box of perfectly chilled Ding-Dongs, is none other than that good ol’ fashioned American racism that the age of Trump has brought forth.

And as is to be seen, Ken is seemingly and completely happy to be a paying passenger aboard the out-of-control Trump train concerning that. Even though my town is small, I’ve never had the displeasure of bumping into Mr. Cykala, but that’s more due to my own luck and running in different circles, rather than anything else. If there is one factoid that seems to be true about followers of the Lethargic Pumpkin, it’s that you’ll never have to worry about meeting them in a bookstore, art gallery, library, or at any cultural event, save for something involving either rednecks driving in a circle. or fat guys fighting each other, while clad in Spandex.

Unlike my previous blog subjects, I really have no idea what Ken does for a living, but I’m more than comfortable betting dollars to donuts that it certainly doesn’t involve social work or mentoring urban youth. And I’d also opine that while he may own every movie Kevin Sorbo and James Woods ever made independently of each other, odds are he’s never owned a copy of the seminal classics Cleopatra Jones or Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song, and he’s definitely never seen the funkiness that is Disco Godfather either, take my word for it.

But when it comes to the Black Lives Matter movement, (AKA: BLM) Ken’s fearful detestation of it and what it truly represents, comes across as only slightly less obsessive than Mark Chapman’s devotion to John Lennon. That’s not to say that Ken is, has been, or will ever become violent, but there’s definitely a disconnection from reality when it comes to his perception of why BLM exists in the first place.

I for one, can’t imagine how sad it must be to live in a place like my current city where the worst thing that happens is that your neighbor’s dog gets loose, and be terrified by the thought that peaceful people who are exercising their constitutional rights in cities hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away from you, are going to show up one day and either kill you, or worse, possibly force you to rethink your inane bigotry when they move in next door.

For clarity if not the restoration of sanity, let’s look at the ethnic diversity of New Mexico, according to the 2010 Census, which was the last time it was tabulated, The breakdown went like this: African American: 2.6%, Native American / Alaskan native: 11.0%, Asian alone: 1.8%, Native Hawaiian / Pacific Islander: 0.2%, and in a development nobody could possibly have seen coming, the “White” population charted at: 81.9%. Or in mathematical terms, us Whiteys outnumber African-Americans in this town by a percentage of 31.5.

I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling pretty good about our chances in a theoretical race war, if one happens. But Ken? Not so much, as he ignores the fact that the reason we have Black Lives Matter now, is that they continue to not truly matter for far too many of my fellow citizens and the founding institutions of this so-called “free” country. Whether he admits it to himself or not, Ken isn’t really that upset about BLM and its objective, past the point of his being forced to acknowledge his openly inherent bigotry, that is.

In the end, he just wants African-Americans to shut up and eternally understand what he feels is, and should always be, their so-called proper place, which just so happens to be beneath him. This POV, other than being woefully repellent in such a modern age, is also laughably pathetic when it emanates from a person who’s publicly posted understanding of humanity is so allegedly low that even a bulldozed flatworm couldn’t limbo underneath it.

What Ken and so many others of his ilk purposefully fail to accept, is the fact that all protest stems from some form of direct oppression. If you want harmony and civility to return and for the protests to stop, then you also need to address the oppression that is its fuel. If all you want is amity without doing that critical step, then your agenda was never about trying to stabilize the bedrock of peace, it’s about your wanting to silence and control persons that you deemed long ago were inferior to you.

To bolster my opinion regarding this, here’s the first course of Ken’s less-than-credible takes on a necessary movement that doesn’t personally affect him at all, but you’d never know it from his ever-growing collection of obsessive love-notes to his imaginary girlfriend. I once thought my dislike of corn-on-the-cob and bologna was bordering on the pathological. But after all I’m about to showcase, I’m starting to think that not only am I fine, I may actually even be able to convince Dr. Rosenberg that I don’t need those Friday afternoon sessions any longer. While on the surface it will seem like there’s a lot to unpack here, there really isn’t.

Ken appears to be no more than a simply ignorant bigot, and his postings reflect the narrow consciousness catwalk running through his psyche. This brief assessment aside, there are a few points I will be touching upon, nonetheless.

As someone who prides themselves on doing his research, it sticks in my craw when others who claim to hold a set of beliefs as sacrosanct, can’t be bothered to do the merest of it, even when it’s necessary to validate their viewpoint beyond the point of all reproach. However, I do need to be brutally honest here, for if the eighteen years of public education and the five decades spent walking this giant ball of solidified space dust hasn’t taught him the joy of coexisting within the human spectrum, my targeted snark won’t make him see what’s been laid out right in front of his eyes since he was born, either.

There’s an old adage that goes “There are none so blind as those who will not see. The most deluded people are those who choose to ignore what they already know.”, and this definitely applies to Ken’s worldview. Especially given that he willingly sealed off his vision using an entire tube of metaphorical if not uber-conservative, Super Glue to do it. But as is my modus operandi, let me just offer a few corrections regarding this assemblage of racist repartee, going row by row, as I lay them out.

Ken: “BLM FB page, let’s get it removed!”

AB: Well, this is odd. Why is that the so-called defenders of the disseminating of ideas always seem to be wanting it limited for others? And does Ken think he and his cuck-boy fan club can actually silence an international movement in this, the age of global access technology? With no due respect, my *rassistischer feigling, if Facebook won’t remove Nickelback fan pages for the common good, they’re definitely not going to remove BLM’s social platform just because your testicles retract every time you see or hear of a Black person using their constitutional rights to assemble, protest the social norms, and utilize their access to Free Speech. *[Google it. It’s accurate.]

One small side note of interest? Ken is also a self-declared member of the microblogging website known as Parler, which launched in August 2018. Its core base of users are hardcore Trump supporters, conservatives, and oddly, Saudi nationals. Hilariously claiming to be a nonbiased “free speech” website, it’s content typically consists of far-right canonized mistruths, antisemitism, and conspiracy theories that are best suited for a tin-foil-wrapped audience. In other words, it’s perfect for Ken, yet he still maintains his Facebook page despite thinking it’s biased and overreaching at times. It’s almost as if he has this  deep need to be continually challenged and subsequently beaten, in regards to his idiocy by the very same people he hates.

Weird, that. If I were to offer any advice to our great White Warrior Ken, it would be this- when you start to enjoy the pain others are inflicting upon you, it might be time to either stop what you’re doing, or  finally admit that you’ve seemingly been nothing but a dedicated bottom all along.

Ken: “I don’t care about BLM the terrorist group.”

AB: Of course, you don’t Ken. Just like how I don’t care about my worst ex living her best life with a widely random selection of men, some of whom are former friends of mine. It’s perfectly normal to obsess this much over things that we don’t give any thought to, and that have no impact on our lives to speak of. And as for your claim that BLM is a terrorist group? Since BLM was founded in 2013, there has not been a single death that can be verified using valid evidence to claim that this is so.

Has there been violence, death, and looting at some of their protests? Most certainly. Is it BLM’s fault? I’m afraid not. White people never blame the Detroit Tigers when their fans throw a violent riot to celebrate game wins, so the same should be held in regard here as well. And if you feel that BLM is responsible for mayhem they don’t advocate for or even remotely control, then you should be just fine holding the NRA and gun manufacturers responsible for mass shootings as well, just so there’s equitable balance.  In addition, the number of people killed by right wing extremists’ numbers in the hundreds, and even the FBI lists the abominable ideology of these organizations as an ever-growing threat to our national security.

The worst thing that generally happens when you run into a hardcore left-winger is that they’ll either try to sell you on the concept of Medicare for All, or the health benefits of eating a vegan muffin, so ease the f**k up.

But since you slurred BLM as a “terrorist group”, I am forced to mention this interesting *tidbit- according to a report compiled by the Department of Homeland Defense, the biggest threat to America today is, and I quote; “white supremacist extremists (WSEs) will remain the most persistent and lethal threat in the Homeland through 2021.” *[https://www.businessinsider.com/dhs-white-supremacy-deadliest-domestic-terror-threat-politico-2020-9]

Let me repeat the salient part for you again Kenny, as I know your brain tends to work like a child’s toy racetrack- all loops, no control, and very little adult supervision to speak of. The most persistent and lethal threat in the Homeland through 2021 will be WHITE supremacist extremists, NOT African-Americans who just want to be able to exist without being shot. Darn. Facts are pesky. Especially when they refuse to work within your ignorant narrative.

Ken: “If you say “Black Lives Matter” instead of “All Lives Matter,” YOU’RE BEING RACIST!!!”

AB: Is it just me, or do these bigoted boobs appear to use the “I know you are, but what am I?” defense more than Pee Wee Herman ever did? What are you, guy who gets triggered at the merest mention that Whites aren’t being held in higher esteem than all of the other races? Easy answer. You’re a racist. I’m so glad that I could clear this up for you. And If all lives really do matter, then why aren’t you acting like they do? My saying that “We need to save the whales” doesn’t mean “Fuck all the other fish”. As painful as this is for your bigoted rationalizations, it just means that at the moment we’re trying to raise awareness that other races are burdened by, and barred from, many opportunities that you and I as White people, take for granted. That’s it.

Ken: “the real meaning of BLM Burn-Loot-Murder”


AB: Sigh… it’s amazing that this twunt hasn’t killed himself making toast yet, isn’t it? As noted earlier, BLM is not responsible for any of the social upheaval that occurs during protests. Especially when you factor in the available and credible evidence that many white supremacist groups as well as the police, were behind some of the damage and violence. For those of you in the backwoods, BLM is a decentralized movement advocating for NON-VIOLENT civil disobedience in protest against incidents of police brutality and all racially motivated violence against black people, and that’s it. They do not advocate for arson. They do not advocate for theft. And they certainly do not advocate for homicide.

BLM has no culpability in regards to those who use the protests as cover for their illegal activities, unlike the militia groups and police who arrive at these events armed to the teeth and looking for any excuse to inflict violence and then assign the blame for such to the peaceful protest movement they so gleefully attack. But since Ken brought up the topic of protest fueled violence, I’m almost hesitant to point out that despite his dedication to a racist ideal that that these necessary and constitutionally protected civil demonstrations centered on African-Americans are oft violent than not, it’s still completely bogus as recent data conducted by the US Crisis Monitor (a joint project between ACLED and the BDI at Princeton University) which goes and collates statistics on these movements as a means to deliver real-time analysis and resources to support efforts to chart, avert, and allay the risk of political violence in America.

Their *findings after studying over 10k of these demonstrations? Nearly 95% involve peaceful protesters, and fewer than 570, or approximately 5%, involve demonstrators engaging in violence. And considering Ken and his ilk are still complaining about professional sports teams by taking a knee, I think it’s fairly obvious their concerns were never about the limited violence, or even the random looting. It’s the fact that all kinds of people are speaking up, and aren’t allowing themselves to be intimidated into a silent corner any longer. So, feel free to get a grip, Ken. Preferably on something other than yourself for a change.

Ken: “I wonder if we all report the BLM FB page as hate speech will it be removed”

AB: No, it won’t. Because the people who have to review your asinine attempts at chilling truly free speech aren’t racist idiots like yourself. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk, and take a BLM brochure on the way out, so you can educate yourself. And by the way? I don’t know what punctuation did to you as a child, but a reconciliation is obviously long overdue.

Ken: “BLM, why are you not protesting against the violence cause by black on black crime?”

AB: Well, that’s an interesting deflection Kenny, along with your kindergarten-level spelling error. But I just have to ask this: why are you not protesting against the violence caused (this is how you spell the word) by white on white crime? You know, since the actual percentage of both is relatively the same to begin with in the first place? Don’t believe me? Well, here you go then. Released in 2017, a report by the U.S. Department of Justice found that between 2012 and 2015, 22.7% of violent crimes were committed by Black people, and of those, 63% were committed against their own race. Compare this to the fact that out of the 57% violent crimes against Whites were enacted by other Whites. The data collected shows that Whites commit crimes against their own race at about the same rate that Black people do theirs.

Yet despite these facts, you never hear debates from any media pundits regarding the “white-on-white” crime issue, and that’s a truly deliberate ploy, intended to disseminate the fable that interracial violence is rampant within the Black community only. When Whites commit a particularly violent crime within the sphere of the White demographic, race is never listed as a factor, unlike the media coverage when a crime of any type occurs within the Black community. The whole ethos of the “Black-on-Black crime” is a racist myth, preserved by followers of a bigoted ideology, who forward this detestable propaganda that Black people are intrinsically more violent, as a means to rationalize their intolerance of people who just want the equality they were granted under the Constitution.

“This is why I do not care at all about BLM! You cannot safely walk down the streets of our Nation’s capital without Thugs & Criminals threatening and assaulting innocent people. This has to stop and it will stop one way or another.”

AB: For the seventh time, Ken posts an anti-BLM meme to let us know that he “doesn’t care” about BLM. At all. Never, in fact. Not even a second or even a first, thought. This strikes me a s a whole of not caring, oddly enough. Methinks the alleged bigot doth protest too much, don’t you? I’m starting to wonder why he’s so obsessed with them, if he supposedly doesn’t give a damn to begin with. What really happened Ken? Did BLM dump you on the night of the Prom in front of all your friends or something? Also, maybe you should spend less time posting your pathetic bigotry and start working on your understanding of the different colors on this planet, and your acceptance of them as equals.

For your information, professional bootlick Rand Paul was surrounded by police after attending an ethically-challenged event which used the peoples house as a political prop, and whether you like it or not, being yelled at because you’re a complicit tool, is not assault. Just because you’d soil yourself if you were ever surrounded by an angry mob of African-Americans, does not mean that these people were as you put it, “Thugs & Criminals”. They are proud people who’ve had enough of excuses, rationalizations, and targeted abuse from a government that treats them as second-class citizens. And as for “stopping” people who have the Constitutional right to protest what they see as injustice? I’m sure you’ll be able to achieve that optimistic end goal from the command center you’ve established under your bed, as you hide from the scary African-Americans.

 Ken: “I do not recognize this America. We will fight to save the USA. Down with Antifa, Down with BLM, Down with the Rioters.”

AB: Well Kenny, this is the America you get when you support a lying, incompetent, traitorous, ethically compromised conman to be your President, so this is really all on you and your fellow indoctrinated brethren. Tasty pick, Bonehead. As for the rest of your… oh heck, let’s just call it what is, that being scared white man babbling, I just have to laugh at you even harder than I’ve previously been doing. There is nothing to “save”, because this is how America will get back on track. Will of the people, and all that. And I see your understating of Antifa is as deep as it is regarding BLM. Antifa is ideologically and aggressively opposed to all forms of fascism and the extreme right-wing dogma that has crippled our country as of late. While far more willing and able to throw punches than BLM, they still aren’t the ones directly responsible for the violent outbreaks that have been occurring at what should have been peaceful protests.

In essence, while they may not be the ones to start the fight, they sure as hell will be the ones who end it, and that’s what really scares you and your bumper-sticker quoting friends. The thought that these people are more than willing to fight back when faced with any threat of coercion. So, when you say you’re against Antifa, it’s also an admittance that you’re pretty much okay with Fascism, or in your case Ken, being pro-Trump. In reality, the rioters have as much to do with the protests as you have to do with the NAACP, so we’ll just move on, rather than beat a dead horse into dust. And as a side tangent, “I don’t recognize…” is pretty much widely regarded as overt racist code for “I liked it so much better when minorities weren’t allowed to be/do …”.

Ken: “It’s been 7 years since BLM was formed. They have raised over a billion dollars. They haven’t had 1 neighborhood cleanup, sent 1 poor black child to college, bought school supplies, feed the hungry or donated to a food bank or provided housing to 1 poor black family.  Where is the money going other than to buy huge charter buses to transport members to riots!”

AB: Hey boys and girls, do you remember what I said earlier about doing your research?  Good, because that dedication to due diligence, is gonna come in handy right about now. First, there is no public affirmation of how much money BLM has raised since 2013, due to the fact that BLM’s Global Network Foundation is monetarily subsidized by another nonprofit, known as Thousand Currents. This group has been responsible for the fiduciary oversight, financial management, and other administrative services for BLM since 2016, which is typical for a group that has not yet been approved for a tax-exempt 501(c)(3) status.

Due to this, BLM does not file its own public financial disclosures, but the audit documents that are available, shows that Thousand Currents released roughly $1.8 million to BLM for the fiscal year that ended in June 2019. The breakdown of such shows one-quarter of BLM’s overall disbursements in 2019 went to salaries, consulting fees, benefits, and payroll taxes. A lesser portion was spent on grants, and the remainder was then assigned to information technology, bank fees, insurance, legal fees, and office expenses. And according to Managing Director Kailee Scales; “Right now, our programs are focused on civic engagement, expansion of chapters, Arts & Culture, organizing and digital advocacy resources and tools,”

BLM is also responsible for a campaign called #WhatMatter2020, whose priorities are racial and economic injustice, safeguarding the rights of the LGBTQ community, ending voter suppression, and passing common-sense gun law, utilizing a groundswell of black voters to do so. This is by the way, all a matter of open public record, but why should our boy Ken do any work when he can just post a misleading meme instead of facts?

I do find it fairly interesting that the same guy who in a previous posting easily referred to African-Americans as “Thugs & Criminals”, is now posing as a champion for their cause. Quick question, Ken- have you ever done any of the stuff you demand that BLM do? Have you ever cleaned up a neighborhood that was populated mostly by minorities? Have you ontributed to an African-Americans child’s college fund? Or bought any much-needed school supplies for African-American children? When was the last time you fed the hungry, donated to a food bank serving any African-American based community, or underwritten the housing of a disadvantaged African-American family? Your arrogant criticism of BLM for not doing what you think they should be doing, causes your words to ring hollow when it’s fairly obvious you wouldn’t be caught dead under any conditions in a poor neighborhood where you’d be the only grain of salt in a pepper shaker.

And there are two more interesting points of order that Ken “forgot” to mention in his ever so self-righteous condemnation of BLM, oddly enough. The first being that all that was just described has never been the mission of BLM in the first place. To repeat my earlier declaration;BLM is a decentralized movement advocating for NON-VIOLENT civil disobedience in protest against incidents of police brutality and all racially motivated violence against black people”, and that’s it. End of discussion. They are not the Red Cross, or Food for the Hungry, nor are they the Salvation Army, and it’s clearly stated in their mission statement what they stand for, and what they do. But I’m sure Ken was going to share this key information with all of us when he was done congratulating himself for chiding an organization for not doing what he himself wouldn’t condescend to do, and what they never said they would do at all.

The best analogy that I could use here to illustrate my point, is that it’s as if you walked into a Baskin-Robbins, looked at the menu board, asked them to make a pizza, and when they refused because it’s not what they sell, logged onto Facebook to tell the world that not only did they refuse to serve you, they were also openly biased against Italian culture too. This hypocrisy aside, I’d like to address the photo of BLM’s buses, allegedly purchased solely for the act of transporting rioters and looters all across America in order to terrify white shrinking violets like Ken.

Unfortunately for our resident professor of African-American Cultural Studies, this claim is not only absurd, but also patently *false, on a number of levels. Because when one takes the time [in my case, 2.8 seconds] to investigate this assertion, they’ll find multiple sources debunking it. The buses that are shown in this photo are ones that carried The Toronto Raptors basketball team as they arrived at Walt Disney World in Orlando on July 9th of this year.
*[ https://www.politifact.com/factchecks/2020/jul/29/viral-image/these-buses-are-toronto-raptors-not-blm/]

The team were responsible for this image, which they posted on their Twitter account with the statement “Silence is not an option.” And the truly embarrassing part for the racist brigade who gleefully shared their shining example of pure ignorance over actual reality? The buses are displaying the easily identifiable Raptors logo on them, but all these morons saw was “Black Lives Matter” on the side, and pounced on it like it was their slowest sister. Yep. You bad boys are definitely “owning” something, alright. Shame that it only seems to be yourselves… again.

Now, if you’re on the fence wondering whether or not if Ken may be somewhat bigoted, relax. Because it’s about to get a whole lot worse as I prove to myself and maybe even you, that he is. Sure, BLM is his steady friend-with-no-benefits-at-all, but there’s plenty of side-action, nonetheless. For instance, he’s also got kind of a thing for denigrating successful and prominent African-American women as well. How manly. Nothing says “I’m an Alpha”, like picking on women, am I right?

And the target of his scorn, is none other than former First Lady Michelle Obama, who, despite being out of the White House for close to four years, may as well be sitting and drinking tea in the Rose Garden, as far as Ken is concerned. Now, I won’t get into the whole Michelle versus Melania debate, mainly because the whore who is currently posing as the First Lady is a gold-digging, nude photo posing, former mistress who sounds like Natasha Fatale from The Bullwinkle Show, and can’t hold a candle to the graceful and totally classy mama that is Michelle, but I digress.

In Ken’s eyes however, it seems that a highly educated, stunningly pretty, and utterly fearless African-American woman is just as terrifying to him as walking down a dark street and seeing a Black guy wearing a hoodie and carrying a pack of Skittles. Once again, we go to the memes and the words that showcase what happens when you take an incels anger, and mix it with asinine racist paranoia.

Wow. I guess it wasn’t BLM that dumped him the night of the prom after all, it was this badass babe, and the humiliation still burns bright. I love how she still vexes him, despite holding no official office, and I find it even funnier that he tries to deride the woman who raised the bar for all First Ladies to come, which coincidentally, is also the same one that Melania had reinstalled vertically, so she could pole-dance with it.

Ken: “She nailed it! Maybe it is because of how she treats white people.”

AB: The comment is particularly idiotic even for Ken, because I as a White person, never felt mistreated by this woman, but I’m sure his loathing has nothing to do with her race or gender, because as we’ve just seen, he’s definitely a stable person driven solely by issues. It’s just a shame though, that so many of those issues qualify for some type of therapy and medication.

What this really boils down to is that he’s pissed she’s smart, capable, and unlike Skanklania, able to handle her business. And as for the ludicrousness of how “she treats whites”? These are some of the comments she had to endure while serving as the First Lady from racist idiots who not unlike Ken, had no ammo to work with, so they just threw scheisse instead, hoping it would stick. To quote some of the dimmest stars on the American flag:

Alex Jones: “I have nothing against trannies, but we have famous photos of her which appear to show she has a large bulge in her pants. Joan Rivers said M.s Obama was transgender and died. She had dinner with the Obamas and she was all for it, saying it was great that Obama’s gay and has a tranny wife.”

Rush Limbaugh: “The NASCAR crowd doesn’t quite understand why, when the husband and the wife are going the same place, the first lady has to take her own Boeing 757 with family and kids and hangers-on four hours earlier than her husband, who will be on his 747. NASCAR people understand that’s a little bit of a waste. They understand it is a little bit of uppity-ism.”

Pamela Ramsey Taylor: “It will be so refreshing to have a classy, beautiful, dignified First Lady back in the White House, I’m tired of seeing a Ape in heels.” (In a sweetly hilarious twist of Karma, Taylor was later sentenced to 10 months in prison for embezzlement)

Mayor Patrick Rushing: “Gorilla face Michelle, can’t disagree with that, the woman is not attractive except to monkey man Barack.”

Now, some people might think these criticisms might be openly racist and ignorant as f**k, but let’s remember why she deserved all this flack- she did dare suggest that American children should (GASP!!) be physically active and eat right. Not to mention, the sheer audacity she showed by occasionally wearing shorts and sleeveless dresses in public more than once. I’m clutching my pearls as I type, because I can’t believe how lucky we all were to have survived this amazingly hate-filled bitch.


AB: Only in America, could you have a total unweaving of the social fabric due to incompetent leadership, and still have fans of the same blame the candidate who hasn’t even been elected yet. That literally is the pitch of the GOP: “Sure, everything is on fire right now, but only we, the arsonists who soak everything we get our hands on with gasoline, can be trusted to put it out.” Do I really need to point out that all the footage pushed by right-wing media in regards to “what will happen in Biden’s America”, was literally filmed in Trump’s current America?

Jesus Ken… if I had to assess your grip on how life works, I’d be forced to use a quote from Doctor Who to adequately express my feelings: You know, you are a classic example of the inverse ratio between the size of the mouth and the size of the brain.” The only “threat’ here is the fact that somehow despite your obvious and limited intellect, society allows you to drive, breed, handle sharp objects, and terrifyingly, vote.

 Ken: “The Democrats are just Trump Haters, without any plan. Biden has no platform, no vision, no nothing for America. This is why the Republicans took over in 2016. Do we really want to return to a do nothing, corrupt government? TRUMP2020, TRUMP2020, TRUMP2020”

AB: If this ain’t the Pot calling the Kettle Black… and yes, pun definitely intended. For those of you who’ve been paying attention, here’s a *link to the direct statement from the GOP, and an **article regarding it, which in essence, says that rather than present a array of innovative policy goals should Trump be re-elected, the party would instead “continue to enthusiastically support the President’s America-first agenda.” You know, the ideas he regurgitated originally from FOX, but now takes from QAnon, while he’s scouring TV and Twitter for hours to see who’s talking nice (or not so nice) about him?

Just to redcap his success so far; no new border wall that was paid for by Mexico, no lowered prescription drug prices, no national healthcare plan, no North Korean peace deal, a quadrupled national deficit, loss of face on the World stage, allies shunning us, our enemies emboldened, Russia openly placed bounties on our soldiers heads with no consequences, and oh yes… a failing economy, and rising death and infection rates from a Pandemic he so badly mangled and mismanaged, that Watergate now looks like a brilliant idea by comparison.

And as to his claim that the Dems have no platform? Well, I don’t know who Ken’s internet provider is, but it obviously doesn’t include Google as part of its Conservative Numbskull Plan, because here it is straight off the *DNC website in all-caps, so Ken can easily read it, even if he won’t understand it:


I don’t know about you, but this seems like a far more definitive and workable platform then one that demands the licking of Dickless Donnie’s golf shoes. When he’s not storing them in his mouth, that is.

However, the best self-own on a rapidly compiling list, is Ken’s slur of a do nothing, corrupt government”, especially given the track record of Trump’s numerous and spectacular failures to deliver on even the most basic of his promises, along with many instances of barefaced corruption and gridlock occurring on his watch, and within his administration. If I felt the need to address these issues in such a way to remove Ken’s welded-on blinders, I’d point out that no less than 14 Trump aides, donors, and advisors being either imprisoned or indicted for a variety of offenses, such as: bank and tax fraud, lying to Congress, grave campaign finance violations, conspiracy, obstruction of justice, and witness tampering.

Ken, for all of his blathering bluster, somehow forgot to mention that his Mango Man-crush also managed to secure himself two history-making counts of impeachment permanently hanging around his fat neck as well. An accidental oversight, I’m sure. Nevertheless, it can’t be all bad when compared to Obama’s Reign of Terror, now could it? 

Well…. I hate to break it to Kenny, but it’s not even remotely close. The reason why? Mainly, unlike Trump, most of Obama’s “scandals” fall under either the purview of controversy, such as issues with the interpretation of constitutionality, to sheer lunacy- his wearing a tan suit and daring to eat, and I swear this was a real talking point on FOX at one time, a hamburger with Djon mustard. That sort of thing.

But Trump? Where to start, is the one question that should be asked, more as a course of action, rather than whether he has any scandals to mention. According to a  recent (up to August 31st, 2020, that is) *article on the website mcsweeney’s.net, there have been no less than 889 controversial incidents, comments, alleged and proven scandals, and assertions of impropriety, separated into the following categories: Sexual Misconduct, Harassment & Bullying, White Supremacy, Racism, Homophobia, Transphobia, and   Xenophobia.

Entered evidence includes his public statements & Tweets, discussion of his collusion with Russia & his numerous incidents of obstructing Justice, along with notations regarding the ethics of his family and associated business dealings within his administration. And this doesn’t even begin to cover his recent disrespect regarding our honored war dead and injured veterans, his siphoning of (-11 first Responder funds, or his admission to Bob Woodward and caught on tape no less, that he lied about the danger of COVID-19. I’m thinking it’s not looking good for Ken’s POV here, but does it ever?

Nevertheless, Ken’s little bumper sticker slogan rant chant at the end of his egg-on-face posting does raise one question for me though, so I just have to ask you, Ken- when you repeat Trump’s name three times, does Ivanka show up wearing the Leia slave girl outfit? If so, I’m pretty sure her daddy is going to be so mad that you’re playing hide-the-Jabba with his favorite piece of side-action.

Ken: “Beauty & the Beast”

AB: Oh, Ken. You adorably misogynistic man-child, you. I can only wonder how far your Vienna mini-sausage goes up to hide when a strong, smart, classy, highly articulate woman walks anywhere near you. I’m guessing it’s somewhere behind your eyeballs, which would explain why you think a fifth-rate former Slovenian model, who somehow scored an *EB-1 visa with no definable abilities or talent other than gold-digging adultery, has any right to be lauded as our First Lady.
*[Also known as an “Einstein Visa” more info to come.]

Granted, she’s technically the First Lady of the Evening we’ve ever had, but I’ll swing back to this in a bit. As is usual with any of Ken’s comparisons, he hasn’t done his research yet again, which isn’t really all that shocking at this point considering all the time he spends finding ways to embarrass himself online. But he has attempted to make some sort of point, and even though as usual he’s cherry-picked it to fit, his comparison, like his intellect falls far and away from his intended goal. Need proof, you say?

Ok then, let’s compare their personal & professional accomplishments, as a means to establish who’s a role model for girls and women of all ages, and who’s the kind of woman you wouldn’t sexually entertain while drunkenly using someone else’s spawn-hammer.

Michelle LaVaughn Robinson Obama: the only First Lady in American history to hold two Ivy League degrees, noted graduate of both Princeton University and Harvard Law School, former Assistant to the Mayor of Chicago, former Assistant Commissioner of Planning and Development. former Executive Director for the Chicago office of Public Allies, former Associate Dean of Student Services at the University of Chicago, former Vice President for Community and External Affairs of the University of Chicago Medical Center, served as a salaried board member of TreeHouse Foods Inc, served on the board of directors of the Chicago Council on Global Affairs, and served as First Lady of the United States from 2009-2017, and is the first African-American to do so.

She is also responsible for establishing the Task Force on Childhood Obesity resulting in her “Let’s Move!” initiative in 2010, in 2011,she teamed up with Jill Biden, former Vice President Joe Biden’s wife, to lead Joining Forces, a nationwide initiative asking all Americans to support veterans and their families by tackling common issues such as unemployment and homelessness.

In 2015, she was a co-founder of Let Girls Learn, a U.S. government initiative committed to helping young girls receive the education they deserve worldwide. She is also a mother of two, and a celebrated author, who has written five books: Becoming, American Grown: The Story of the White House Kitchen Garden and Gardens Across America, Farewell Speeches, Becoming: A Guided Journal for Discovering Your Voice, Believe in the Possibility: The Words of Michelle Obama.

On the surface, this might present as notable to some, but it’s not nearly as inspiring as our current reincarnation of Jackie-O is, according to many on the conservative side of the fence. So, what’s her story? Here’s what I know, courtesy of some dogged research, for when it comes to anything of depth regarding Melanoma, much like her public image, it’s all smoke and mirrors, a circumstance that seems to be quite deliberate.

Melanija Trump: changed the spelling of her name from Melanija Knavs to Melania Knauss after starting her modeling career in 1992 Yugoslavia after she won second place in the “The Face of the Year” contest. She is also the second first lady in American history that was born outside of the United States, that being the country of Slovenia. Supposedly, she speaks six languages: Slovenian, French, Serbian, German, Italian and English, although this claim has been in question due to a series of public inconsistencies.

In May 2017, when Pope Francis granted an audience to the Trumps in Rome, video surfaced that showed the Pontiff making a joke in Italian to the First Lady, who appeared to not understand the context of what was directed at her until a translator repeated it in English. This contradiction has been noted more than once by several multi-linguists who’ve found it somewhat odd that if she does possess such impressive fluency in multiple tongues, why she doesn’t validate her theoretical skillset to the disbelieving world at large, thereby ending the speculative snark once and for all, which she has yet to do.

In her own words, she stated; “I attended and graduated from design school, from Fashion and Industrial Design School and also attended, graduated from architecture degree, bachelor degree.” Sadly, she did not, a fact which was exposed in a 2013 lawsuit deposition. Various media reports found that while Melania gained entry to the University of Ljubljana in Slovenia, she dropped out in her first year. The revamped spin now being that she “paused her studies to advance her modeling career in Milan and Paris.”

A “career” by the way, that has also been called into question, and with good reason.

How so, you ask? Well, her hubby bragged back in 2016, that his former 2nd mistress and baby mama number three, “was one of the most successful supermodels, and she did many photo shoots, including covers and major magazines.” But you know me, I like to know everything about everything, and after the possible disingenuousness regarding her linguistic ability and higher education, I became really curious as to the claims her Orange Romeo made about her successful career history. Some free advice for the future tells-all book author and social divorcee?

If you want people to believe something credible about your past, you probably shouldn’t enlist one of the world’s biggest liars to be your publicist. I hate to break this to you, my loyal readers, but it seems that this take on her pre-Donny career might not be entirely truthful. I know. I was thrown for a loop too, given her almost flawless track record of transparent honesty. It all starts in 1998, when journalist Dusan Nograsek and four other reporters received a call from a modeling agency, inviting them to meet a fellow Slovenian who was allegedly enjoying great personal success within the fast-paced world of high-end modeling.

With all of their expenses paid, the correspondents traveled on a private plane from Slovenia’s capital city of Ljubljana, to the city of Paris, and were booked into the Hotel Lutetia, an iconic Art Deco landmark luxury Palace hotel, sited in the lively Saint-Germain-des-Prés area of Paris, on the city’s Left Bank.

After quite some time, the model they were asked to meet arrived, and was introduced as Melania Knauss. She asked that no photos be taken, but did state that she was one of the top 50 models in the world, which came as somewhat of a surprise to Nograsek, for in his recalling of the event, “Nobody knew who she was. They told us her name, we wrote it down,”

Further doubt was cast upon her story by the well-known Slovenian photographer Stane Jerko, who had actually “discovered” Melania a decade earlier at the age of seventeen, and who would go on to tell Univision Investiga that “It’s not real. She had been working as a model only a short time, and couldn’t be in the top 50”, implying that she was exaggerating, as she was still relatively an unknown at this time. “Her exterior was very good to be an excellent model, but she lacked energy, a certain charm that if you have, you transmit it through your eyes, through your personality. If you have something that, shall we say, comes from the heart, it shows in the photo.“  

In an attempt to try and lend credence to her avowal, the journalists were given the Spanish edition cover of Harper’s Bazaar from August of 1997, in which she appeared semi-topless. To note, there was no inner interview with Melania, but only a caption that read: “At the height of summer, Melania, photographed by Manfred Gestrich,’‘ Furthermore, the cover which was shot in Mexico, was bespoke for U.S. Hispanics alone, as she was not on the English edition cover at all.

Strangely, even though Melania was dating Donald Trump, who at the time, was still in the process of divorcing his second wife and ex-mistress, Marla Maples, this was never mentioned once to the assembled press corps, which to this day, still strikes strange to Nograsek: “She said goodbye after dinner and we went to do the tour around Paris. Later that night we went to the airport for the turbulent flight home, all wondering what the whole thing was about,” Since the time of this odd gathering, Nograsek has opined that the trappings of the trip, such as the extravagant hotel, the tour of Paris and the private jet, were part of a plan overseen by Trump himself.

Because when one looks at her modeling career with a cynical eye, there’s not much there to brag about in the way of any major awards or high-end bookings od note. While she has worked as a European runway model, and garnered some exposure in various magazines within the United Kingdom and the US, the most high-profile being an appearance in the swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated and the cover and interior of British GQ, where she posed nude inside one of Trump’s private jets. Despite this ever so impressive resume, she has never been considered to be one of the 50 or for that matter, even within the top 100, of the world’s best-known international models. And yet somehow, she still qualified for an “Einstein” visa in 2001.

What exactly, pray tell, did she bring to the table to get one of the five that were granted to persons from Slovenia that year, other than dating someone who was/is fraudulently rich? The EB-1 visa is allegedly reserved for immigrants with extraordinary ability if not a sustained sense of national and international acclamation, and is in concept at least, earmarked for people who are much-admired in their chosen field.

Examples have included feted athletes, cultural icons, academics, and even some multinational executives. In other words, the famous, the rich, the influential, the connected, to be certain. But a college dropout with a sparse modeling resume and an affinity for posing nude in jets is deemed essential to the betterment of this country? Sure, Jan. I’ll buy that for a dollar, which I’m fairly confident is what her entire re-spun backstory is worth.

Factor in that despite that her husband has taken a hypocritical stance in regards to what his fan base refers to as “anchor babies” and chain migration, he had no apparent issue with either when it concerned the birth of his son & forgotten prop Barron in 2006, and the naturalization of his in-laws in 2018. Weird, that. And I’ll also overlook the fact that Melania’s Dad is about the same age as her husband too, since it’s vomit-inducing

Call me old-fashioned, but banging a married man and posing for some strip club quality escort service photos hardly qualifies in my book as anything worth bragging about, especially for someone who’s supposed to represent us as an icon of morality and grace, a responsibility which she, like her husband, seems unable to fulfill.

But let’s not dwell on the negative in regards to her personal life, let’s look at what she’s done thus far as First Lady, shall we? Well, this is strange… other than a few state dinners, some disastrously received Holiday decorating and White House redesign choices, and a  cringe-inducing speech and wardrobe choice at this year’s pants-on-fire lie-fest known as the RNC, her collective resume as First lady is almost as thin as her modeling one.

Oh wait, I may have apparently spoken too soon, for she did in fact, launch a highly-promoted public awareness campaign in 2018, which advocated against cyberbullying and drug use among youth, known by its grammatically challenged moniker, “Be Best”. Embarrassingly, this led to an accusation of paganization, as the campaign booklet that was publicized as having been written “By First Lady Melania Trump and the FTC”, was nearly identical to an earlier document prepared by the FTC in 2014.

This bookended a previous allegation in 2016 that she plagiarized parts of a 2008 speech given by the former First Lady, Michelle Obama, which was discovered after a series of curious similarities between the two speeches was noted. In the end however, a Trump staff member by the name of Meredith McIver, who was allegedly responsible for writing Melania’s speech, took the fall after admitting that she had “borrowed’ elements of Mrs. Obama’s earlier speech.

The effectiveness of the “Be Best” campaign can be measured by her husband’s continuing behavior online and during his increasingly unhinged, if not petulant, press rants/rallies, where he displays a thought process that one could only charitably describe as Adderall-fueled at best. Way to go, Melania! After all, it’s one thing to fall short of the standard, but to fail to even chart at all? Talk about carving out a niche that’s truly all yours. When you compare her accomplishments to Michelle’s, they’re so similar that they could possibly pass for twins, couldn’t they?

But let’s give credit where it’s due- after all, hers is the classic American immigrant success story. Come to the land where the streets are paved with gold, overstay your visa, work illegally, find a billionaire sugar-daddy, produce an anchor baby, use your hubby’s corrupt influence to secure an Einstein visa you didn’t earn or deserve, bring your parents over using an immigration loophole your husband claims to disapprove of, and wind up with free government housing and healthcare. American exceptionalism at its finest.

And Ken? This is what Class looks like.

But this?

Just Ass. And not a particularly fetching one, at that.

However, there is one last pathetic comment of Ken’s to address so that I can close off this particular half of what will be his two-part story, and it may be the most unaware example of tone-deafness he’s presented thus far. And as you guessed, he’s still carrying a tiki-torch for Michelle. But on the upside, at least he’s not using it to light up her front lawn… yet.

Ken: “Michelle Obama. You are so full of shit. Like you can even come close to relating to what the average person is going through. You are clueless. And furthermore, the majority of people could care less about your podcast. Why don’t you go get a real job.”

AB: Normally, this would be the part where I might mention at length that Michelle has been on the “Most Admired” Gallup Poll list since 2012, finally taking the title of “Most Admired Woman” in 2018, but why bother? You’re immune to facts very much in the same way that Trump is to marital fidelity. And just because yougov.com ranked her as having a 58% favorable rating among Americans due to her intelligence, genuineness, respectfulness, and her willingness to stand for the common person, that doesn’t mean that I need to point out that Melania comes in 18 points lower, now do I?

Of course not. For as you pointed out Ken, with all the linguistical and intellectual charm of a piranha giving a skin-flute lesson, it’s about her innate ability to be able to relate to us, the common man and/or woman. Now, I won’t continue to embarrass your limited and tortured intellect with any further research, I’ll just use the one form of communication that I know you’ll understand… PICTURES!!!

That’s not because I think that visuals are the only things that can make an impression on your amygdala [the part of the brain where researchers think racial prejudice is formed] it’s just that the eloquence of hand-puppets is hard to convey via the written word, and most of the memes I’d normally use to educate persons of your ilk, are far above your reading level. So, without any further ado, let’s look at Ken’s implied choice as to what woman, along with her whore-mongering husband/business partner, shows that she really knows how to relate to the average person.

Maybe it’s the Liberace’s bordello merged with King Tutankhamun’s bathroom decorating vibe, or even possibly the fact that their piano portrait looks as if it’s the second before Trump starts handing out Melania’s hourly rate sheet, but everything about it just screams “Sure I may hover over a gilded toilet, but I totally shop the discount rack at Walmart whenever possible.” doesn’t it?

The only thing these odious oligarchs have ever shared remotely in common with the average American is that both of their lifestyles are subsidized by that person’s underpaid labor. Look Ken, I get it, I really do. You finally found a role model who hates the same people you do, has the same disdain for facts that you happily embrace, and proudly says the things you’d like to be able to say without suffering consequence to minorities, women, veterans, the poor, and anybody who graduated from college based on their merit, and not the charity of their gym coach, but I just have to ask this question regardless… out of all the role models you could have chosen from, this was your best option?

Sure, you thought Trump was truly “Dope” when you first saw him screeching on your TV, but worse than the revelation of of his being an ACTUAL dope, is the knowledge that at best, he’s no more than a bag of overly-tanned baking soda that you at best, purchased at twice the fair market price.

But I could be wrong. Maybe it’s yet another example of something ever-so-shiny being placed in front of you, and it proved so distracting that you forgot to do any research regarding your deeply held “beliefs”. AGAIN. Nah. I’m sure it can’t be as simple as you present to be, now could it?

Whew. I think now is a perfect time to take a very well-deserved break, but the fun never really ends. So, when I come back, after grabbing a sandwich and a shot of Bourbon to help make way for the newest batch of Ken’s inanity, In my next installment chronicling his interesting takes on life, I’ll be tackling some truly unique opinions of his that he claims to have regarding a wide range of topics, such as: how the free social media platform that he uses to complain about the same said social media platform has “no right” to fact-check him or dare set rules over its own lands, how he regards the Pandemic as overblown, the horror of allowing people to engage in voting long-established and secure methods, police brutality, and not too surprisingly, even more bigoted notes about African-Americans.

And if we’re lucky, there may even be a discussion on how White suburbanites can believe in Bigfoot, see Jesus’s face in burnt toast, the Lochness Monster, UFO’s and aliens from outer space, angels, demons, and Nickelback’s musical talent, but will also still assert that the concept of White privilege is a myth.

A myth, I tell you! Which, not so ironically, is how Ken’s understanding of what America truly is and what it represents, should be regarded as.

 “Racism does not have a good track record. It’s been tried out for a long time and you’d think by now we’d want to put an end to it instead of putting it under new management.”- Thomas Sowell



Hatertriot Lames Pt.2 (Razz the Ruth)

“The three most powerful and most apparent means used by Rome to retain her power over the minds of her votaries are Ignorance, Superstition, and Persecution.” – Charles Spurgeon

 Hello Blogiteers!

Oh, what a difference a few weeks can make, am I right?

America found itself overrun by a cadre of masked out-of-control crazed thugs, masquerading as police, using the cover of civil disobedience, to rioted seemingly wholesale, far beyond the reach of established law. And then to top it off, there were other looters not connected to the cause to contend with as well. But thank Odin they didn’t have badges, because otherwise, we’d all be dead by now.

Oh wait, I’m truly sorry, that privilege is reserved exclusively to those who take an oath to protect and serve us out of our lives, especially when those particular lives so just happen to belong to African-Americans, whom most law enforcement allegedly regard as being three-fifths worthy of the same granted Constitutional rights that my blond and blue-eyed Aaryan-looking ass automatically receives without a momentary pause as to why that is.

Sure, I could easily list the numerous violation of civil rights from these over-militarized modern-day *Geheime Staatspolizei (AKA: “The Trumpstapo” accrued, ranging from permanently blindng citizens with improperly applied rubber bullets, beating up members of the Free Press, illegally pepper-spraying a pregnant woman inside a car, pulling people out of the crowd and attacking them unprovoked, using military grade chemical agents that are explicitly banned in the USA on peaceful protestors, all while obscuring their badge numbers, removing identifying insignia, and deliberately turning off their body-cams, but just ignore what you’ve been seeing on your local news, or streaming on the internet.
*[Secret State Police in German.]

After all, they were only doing it to show the whole world exactly why the anti-police brutality movement and the call to defund their militarization is in the first place was totally unnecessary.

I won’t speak for you, but I for one, find this absence of credible accountability very comforting. Heavy sarcasm definitely intended to be noted here, in case I was coming across as too subtle. Factor in the totally-not-nuts-at-all behavior of our increasingly incoherent president, who thus far, has yet to offer any trustworthy words of sympathy, empathy, from inside his glorified pillow fort, and you’ll understand just why our society is under the same divisive strain that a group of middle-aged Star Wars fanboys face when they discuss online that not only is there now a Black stormtrooper, but also a woman flying the Millennium Falcon as well.

I’m obviously kidding of course, and in no way, shape, or form should it be implied or taken that I’m making light of the lack of moral authority and leadership not being shown in regards to curbing the violence being enacted against my fellow citizens by these jack-booted thugs, sent by our wannabe monarch, heralded across the land as His High Grace Donnie the Dickless.

As a demagogue believes should set the standard for competent law enforcement in this country, there’s no way he isn’t masturbating over this latest slice of Chaos, especially if he feels that he can manipulate the inherent bedlam for either yet another, much-needed deflection away from his numerously consistent instances of gross maladroitness, or yet another unconstitutional power grab.

Now to be fair, we shouldn’t expect our currently cosplaying mad king to clearly see the burning forest for the smoldering trees, considering his recently taking up a cravenly residency in the White House’s security bunker much in the style of Hitler, but let’s be honest here- the phrase “Turn out the lights, nobody’s home”, was supposed to be only a descriptive metaphor for avoiding your local neighborhoods trick-or-treaters,-not the American citizens you’re supposed to be selflessly leading.

Some of you may have also heard the adage that there’s nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal, but that’s not entirely accurate. While it may be enraged at you and the conditions you’ve set upon it, they’re also suffering intense pain, are muddled mentally, and truly want nothing more than an abrupt exit from the situation. But what does a still-healthy and obviously angry animal want in the same circumstance? Well, that’s an easy answer- it wants your throat ripped out, your spine between its teeth, your extremities removed, and the tastier squishy parts of you to be served up as an after-snack. Metaphorically, I’m sure, as most animals don’t seem to have a taste for personal revenge, unless of course, you factor in the shark from Jaws 4.

A small aside? If I were Ellen Brody and my husband died from a heart attack related to the stress from facing down and killing a monstrous Great White shark some years ago, and my youngest son was then slaughtered by a possible relative of said deceased shark, the last place I’d go to forget about it all would be an island in the Caribbean… just saying.

That advice aside, I was always curious as to how Michael Caine’s downed plane pilot character managed to go for a desperate swim in the ocean, climb onto a waiting boat, and emerged from the water completely bone-dry. Seriously. I’m not making this up. They left that unedited shot continuity error in the movie, which just serves to prove that occasionally, talented actors who should know better, really will do if just for the paycheck. I don’t know what he bought with it, but hopefully it wasn’t a long-term investment in Blockbuster Video. For his part, Caine later explained that they waited so long for the camera to turn over, that his outfit eventually just dried out. See, you can learn something new every day, whether it’s useful information or not. Well, you and I easily can, but Trump supporters?

Not so much, given all the empirical evidence laid out almost every second for the most casual of perusal on the World Wide Web. Case in point, you ask? Well, out here in my neck of the New Mexican wilds where I live, the internet out here oft serves as pure escapism, due to the dearth of things to keep yourself occupied, and as the 2nd quickest of the local gossip grapevines.

As you might correctly assume, there’s a large contingent ranging from the very young to the elderly, who are truly seasoned web-surfers. Let me put it this way: YouTube, Amazon, Netflix, Hulu and the other various social media platforms are just as influential as our one-screen movie theatre and local newspaper, if not more so, when it comes to staying informed as to what’s going n locally.

As is to be expected, given the size of my township, there’s also a niche populated with community-based Facebook pages that run the gamut from the advertising of businesses to promoting the occasional yard sale. Sporadically, even town politics. versus the world at large, are discussed, but those threads usually unravel rather quickly. For the sake of transparency, I must admit, and with no small sense of inordinate pride, that I have been permanently banned from two of them, due to the bluntness of my opinion.

Guess what, Twitter? You’re not the only one who dropped me faster than a hot rock, and both of those pages were younger, and I might add, far thinner than you as well. One of these exclusions was one I could care less about, unless I ever find myself having the need to buy either a lawnmower or an old bassinet, but the other one? That’s a horse of a different color, prancing in as a blessing in disguise, for two reasons- the first being that it allows me to puncture the undeserved egoistic smugness of someone who in my personal opinion, is the most hilarious of religiously patriotic hypocrites, and the second, that it paves the way for the acquisition of some well-needed and long overdue home-grown adversaries to bounce my cynical censures off of.

Everybody needs a hobby after all, and one of my favorites has always been toppling sculptures dedicated to the glorification of one’s personal inanity. And if my switchblade tongue allegorically slashes an imbecile, whom I might awkwardly bump into at my local burger joint known as Blakes, so much the better. For as we have come to know, I look forward to confrontation in the very same way that a small child looks forward to Christmas.

I noted in my last screed that since my arrival here just shy of two years ago, that my interaction with the laypeople, unlike my time in Phoenix, has been relatively benign. While that has been somewhat of a refreshing sea-change, it has at times, made me feel like I’m sort of stuck in a comfortably numb rut of my own creation. Since I‘m no longer experiencing quite the same level of obligations, social pressure, or personal frustrations as I did back in the days of my stalking the Badlands of the Phoenix Art Scene, my writing has taken somewhat of a shift away from the dissecting of my [at the time] art-world life, and has slowly expanded to cover topics of far greater weight.

Granted, there’s still always going to be the occasional literary Artbitch-slap, even if the main inspiration behind such is for no more than my personal amusement, which let’s face it, is really why I do what I do. Yet, if I were ever forced under the most minimal of duress to be honest, I’d also tell you all that it has been quite nice not having to slog through PHX’s fifth-rate quagmire of dilettantish hubris and name-branding ineptitude that consistently fails to even register as a serious blip within the American art-world at large.

Uh-huh, I said it. So as always, please send your hate mail to the usual place if you would. Granted, the “scene” I find myself in at this time is obviously far smaller and less influential than any I’ve ever worked in before, but the more things change, the more they remain the same, as the saying goes. This is not to say that because I live in such a small town, the people here are less than intelligent, or lack a sense of gravitas in relation to culture- far from it, in fact. Small towns don’t always mean small minds, and I’ve been pleasurably surprised at the level of intellectual curiosity and self-reliance I’ve discovered during my habitation thus far.

For the sake of clarity, one of my consistently stated maxims as of late is that I’ll listen to your debate points as long as they’re actually worth debating in the first place. No conspiracy theories, no badly photoshopped memes, no quoting the Bible as a credible paragon of “proof”, and most definitely, no foisting YouTube videos hosted by rabid right-wing curs that make Donald Trump look like a member of MENSA by comparison, in lieu of empirical evidence, either. These benchmarks I feel, are not only achievable, but can be surpassed, and the majority of people I interact with both here and online, do that quite easily. But as for the rest… would it be wrong of me to ask the spirit of Lemmy Killmeister, to please take the freaking wheel?

Even with my newly installed sense of Zen hastened by the limitations of advancing age, I still for one, really despise stagnant idiocy. All shades of false modesty aside, I’ve always felt that dutifully calling out those who are the reason that the makers of Preparation H still have to continue printing usage instructions on their product, should be regarded as performing a noble community service.

Speaking of the community, my last screed did strike a nerve with more than a few people, but considering that most of them seemingly eat books rather than read them, I’m not going to really lose a whole lot of sleep over it. For me, implications and/or threats of physical violence are just part of the fun of what I do, and I react accordingly. As in I really don’t worry at all, given the fact I’m currently the proud user of a Tandem insulin pump, a medical device which is attached to me 24/7, save for the brief moments when I’m either refiling my insulin cartridge, charging the battery, or reenacting the *The Battle of Leyte Gulf in my bathtub, using only sponges and a flotilla of resolute rubber duckies.
*[ https://www.usni.org/magazines/naval-history-magazine/1994/october/greatest-all-sea-battles]

Not too surprisingly, this intermeshed tech is singularly the most terrifying thing in my life that I currently deal with, hands down. This is due to the fact that if I or my team of medical professionals mismanage this system, it theoretically could impair me at best, and at worst-kill me deader than Scott Baio’s career. and that right quick. So, until someone can manage to be somehow scarier than this possible scenario, threats slide off of me faster than Stormy Daniels rolled off of Trump.

Along with the normal copiousness of diabetic side effects, I also have to endure a form of severely painful nerve damage known as neuropathy, and if that wasn’t fun enough, there’s also something rather disturbing currently going wrong with my gastric system as well.

So, when one of these knuckle-dragging troglodytes takes some time out from misusing a Hot Pocket to pleasure themselves, stating that one day they’re going to show up on my doorstep to either “teach me some manners”, or possibly harm me, all I can say is this: depending on my mood and what kind of pain I happen to find myself in that day, I may just willingly open the door and let you in.

This of course is based on the sole prerequisite that you let me take care of the laundry and the dirty dishes first before you enact your evil revenge, as I see no need for both of us to be rude by leaving a mess for my girlfriend.

 Let’s just call it professional courtesy, and leave it at that.

That smattering of inanity aside, the last few months living here have shown me that despite the world’s repository of information being no further away than the reach of a fingertip, certain persons within my humble little burg, have the same intellectual grasp on Reality that Tomi Lahren would have if she were attending the annual Oligonucleotide and Peptide Therapeutics convention in San Diego. And yes, that’s a real thing. Google it. Once again, that’s not a slam against the small-town paradigm, but it is a sad observation in relation to the current state as to what’s regarded as crucial information these days by the populace, both local and nationwide.

If I had a dollar for every time I engaged with one of these permanently dimmed bulbs, I’d be living on my fantasy island, constructed solely out of Ding Dongs, and receiving weekly full-body massages from my harem of Milla Jovovich clones, recruited straight off the set of the fourth Resident Evil movie. Don’t worry… I’m sure my GF would be totally cool with it- after all, when I told her I was going to use that joke, she just looked at me with a huge smile on her face and said “It’s fine”, which as every man knows, is girl-code for “I totally support all your decisions 100%.”

So, I got that positivity going for me, which is sort of nice. However, the profound cracks that have been forming on the surface of my inner tranquility as of late, originated from two truly unexpected sources- one was the current COVID-19 pandemic, and the other?

Two supposedly independent, yet oddly related, Facebook pages. The first being where people post about their upcoming yard sale, and the second, where they try to sell you their barely used treadmill. Ahh, Suburbia. You never fail to amaze me with your diversity of thought. For me, the fun all started when I saw this post on the page that directly “serves” the small township in which I live.

Other than the fact that this so-called protest, comprised of Trump-loving, pickup-truck-flag-festooning, anti-masking, half-wits driving around my local Sonic in literal circles, demanding that New Mexico be fully “reopened”, only proved to be the epitome of what one might expect from a convention of people who’ve inoculated themselves against the pandemic by chugging Clorox smoothies.

It was also a stunning display of what entitlement actually tends to present itself as in the end. Keep in mind that at the time this asinine announcement was posted. New Mexico was only starting to experience the inconvenience of businesses slightly altering their operations in relation to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, and not the further restrictions that have really yet to come.

Other than the mandatory mask protocol enacted by most stores, the only additional annoyance was the restriction on gathering in large groups, which not only affected businesses large and small, but churches as well.. This was of course, due to the risk that indoor public assemblies legitimately pose, and despite the fact that these houses of so-called divine worship were only to be shuttered temporarily, as they were deemed non-essential. Which in essence, they are. The decision to close was met with a large outcry of acrimonious chagrin by both the hypocritical fleeced sheep who attend them, and the shepherds responsible for said fleecing.

But I’ll address this singular topic later, and hopefully, with a little more depth.As I noted, the first page was intended solely to be a place where you could find a used lawnmower on the cheap, and not as a haven for inane political discussion. Naturally of course, when I pointed this out to the pages admins using their very own rules that stated the same, I was immediately banned and blocked, because the powers that be don’t like dissent of any kind within their fiefdoms of arrogance.

Mind you, I wasn’t too put out by this, as I was only there looking for a gently used bookcase for my studio, but I digress. However, in my humble opinion, using the page as a bully pulpit of sorts was a tad bit over the top, especially since it was in direct violation of the very rules that were placed upon the governance of it originally.

That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about right-wing cultists- when they’re not ignoring the blatantly obvious reality of their own hypocrisy, they’re overreacting faster than a middle-aged Karen witnessing African-Americans having the sheer gall to do what she considers to be exclusively white people things. I swear to God, if the skin of conservatives was any thinner, they’d look like *Slim Goodbody.
*[Slim Goodbody is a fictional character created in 1975 and performed by John Burstein. His custom unitard costumes, where internal organs were displayed with a high degree of biological accuracy averaged about four grand to create, and as a child, I remember being absolutely horrified beyond all rational thought by this walking representation of a genteel Cenobite. If you don’t know what a “Cenobite” is, feel free to Google it.]

There was however, somewhat of an upside to my social media exile, as it not only forced me to seek out yet another page that might have the bookcase that I’m still looking for, it also germinated the inspiration behind this particular piece of writing. My initial quest for practical storage eventually led me to discover a page named “Grant County Goodies”, and it didn’t take long for me to discover that one of the page overseers was yet again, another pretentious quasi-Christian Trump supporter whose attitude was disturbingly similar to the person who had cast me out for experiencing my opinion previously.

And in an action that was not too surprising, this individual as well, when not boring the group with their arbitrary rants, was also posting content that went directly against the rules of the page that they themselves violated consistently. Sort of a “do as I say, not as I do” type of situation. This particular hypocrisy, in regards to word and deed, has also been alleged to be blighting yet another FB page that they run, that being “Silver City Reviews, Experiences & Recommendations”, which is supposed to be for the promotion of the local businesses in Silver City, but has sadly found itself at times, serving as a soapbox for this person to air their at times, allegedly skewed take on Reality.

When I look at it with a cynical eye, it’s almost as if Joel Osteen and Michelle Bachman had a baby, and as a christening gift, decided to bequeath an Empire upon it, whose legacy is founded in Facebook-disseminated ignorance.

 Interestingly, when I was casually talking to one of my doctors about the GCG page and how I had found myself banned from it, they not only named the same admin who I had my issue with, they added: “Oh, that cow bans so many people from her bulls**t page for disagreeing with her, she might as well be Twitter.” However, while that was amusing, I forgot to mention one small detail: when I was discussing the page, I never mentioned her name.  At all. They just knew who it was when all I had said was: “I got booted off by some cowardly hypocritical bi**h”

That, boys and girls is when you know your social media marketing is running on all eight cylinders. Normally, given how small my town is, I’d pass on the opportunity into getting into any form of blood feud with someone I regard as having the intellect of a rice cake and the moral veracity of a stale chocolate éclair, but sometimes the Kraken of Karens decides to come ashore with the most delightful of gifts, and it would be all shades of personal insolence for one to refuse when such a thoughtful bounty is presented.

And if there’s anything I am truly regarded for, it’s my sense of interactive decorum, and Odin knows, I’d hate to screw up such a perfect track record. Besides, I’m at my happiest when I’m punching holes in somebody’s dinghy of duplicitousness, and if one can’t take joy in what one does, especially when it’s on the side of debatable righteousness, then what is the point of being alive in the first place? I’d rather be marked as being a curmudgeonly firebrand, than someone who was perfectly fine with engaging in complicity with any variant of willful ignorance.

To note, I’m the proud recipient of a lifetime ban from Twitter for taking on Tomi Lahren, the inbred fans of White Supremacy, and “actor” Kevin Sorbo, otherwise known as TV’s Hercules, a show which spawned a far-superior spin-off known as Xena: Warrior Princess, which unlike the majority of Sorbo’s work, will never be a sale item to be found in the bargain-bin barrel at Walmart.

To clarify, I took on a bottle-blond garage sale Barbie straight from Niflheim, actual Nazis, and Hercules himself, emerging relatively unscathed. So, I’m already fairly well-schooled when it comes to facing stupidity head-on. Let me be honest here if I may, I’ve already got more than enough friends, and the theoretical loss of respect from persons I already don’t like, respect or fear to begin with, doesn’t make me lose any sleep at night.

Unless of course, it’s because I’m still laughing at them. This happens way more, and way less, than you might think. As I’ve often written, and that seemingly somewhat endlessly, I don’t care that others think differently than I do, regardless of the issue at hand, so long as they’re actually thinking in the first place.

 Hence, the most direct reason why it’s almost damn near nigh impossible to have either a civil or productive debate with any of the randomly chosen cultists to be found within the Red Hat Brigade.

For as the celebrated English-American political activist and author Thomas Paine once declared; “To argue with a man who has renounced the use and authority of reason, and whose philosophy consists in holding humanity in contempt, is like administering medicine to the dead, or endeavoring to convert an atheist by scripture.”

This is sort of ironic in a sense, since many of Trumps followers seemingly don’t believe in Science, and just happen to be self-declared Christians who have outwardly shelved their disdain of the First, Second, Third, and Ninth Commandments being violated in order to devotedly follow an overly-tanned Orange Calf to the eventually complete obliteration of their humanity, their values, and their country.

For the record, those Commandants are: (1) You shall have no other Gods but me. (2) You shall not make for yourself any idol, nor bow down to it or worship it. (3) You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God. (9) You must not give false evidence against your neighbor. However, at their best, this legion of lunacy does provide some of the best unintentional comedy this side of watching Trump try to answer even the most softball of questions that are handed to him, so there is at least some entertainment value to be had during these dark times at least.

Case in point regarding the New York Pork Dork would be this devastatingly intellectual exchange between Cadet Covid-19, and his ever-faithful blow-up chin-sex doll Sean Hannity, who during an interview on, where else but FOX, asked him the easiest of questions regarding what his top priorities would be if Trump did manage [Odin forbid] to win a second term. Hannity’s soft as cashmere query to our mentally meandering moron was this:

 Hannity: “If you hear in 131 days from now, at some point in the night or early morning: ‘We can now project Donald J. Trump has been re-elected the 45th president of the United States’- let’s talk. What’s at stake in this election as you compare and contrast, and what is one of your top priority items for a second term?” 

Trump for his part, looking as if he had just been told his Diet Coke lacked his standard Adderall double-shot, blathered out the following word salad in response:

“Well, one of the things that will be really great, you know the word experience is still good. I always say talent is more important than experience. I’ve always said that. But the word experience is a very important word. It’s an- a very important meaning. I never did this before. I never slept over in Washington. I was in Washington, I think, 17 times. All of a sudden, I’m president of the United States. You know the story. I’m riding down Pennsylvania Avenue with our First Lady and I say, ‘This is great. But I didn’t know very many people in Washington. It wasn’t my thing. I was from Manhattan, from New York. Now I know everybody, and I have great people in the administration. You make some mistakes. Like, you know, an idiot like Bolton. All he wanted to do was drop bombs on everybody. You don’t have to drop bombs on everybody. You don’t have to kill people.”

Relax everybody, Cinnamon Hitler is on top of it. Just like he was in regards to the pandemic, the national deficit, global warming, the economy, national infrastructure, gay rights, women’s body autonomy, civil rights, police brutality, domestic terrorism, disaster relief, workers protections, consumer protections, the regulating of our clean air and water, building his fantasy Wall, and last, but not least, sexually satisfying Stormy Daniels. who to be quite honest, probably got more consideration than the rest of those other issues combined, but what a glorious 38 seconds that must have been for the whore-monger known far and wide as Two-Pump Trump.

Most tend to look upon this as an allegorical theory of course, since nobody wants to risk forming a possibly fatal aneurysm by actually visualizing it. Speaking of conceptions that nobody wants to think about, there is a commonality that the collective hive-mind of the Red Hat Brigade shares, and that is an unfounded belief that due to their unwavering support for a sack of gilded lunch-meat, they are somehow both politically pertinent, and therefore, openly persecuted for that imagined relevance.

Nothing could be further from the Truth, save for their xenophobic sweet potato giving a speech, but I digress. However, pointing out the obvious foibles of a traitorous angry Creamsicle is not what brings us all here today, and while it would be amusing to write about Benedict Donald until my laptop melts, I have smaller and tastier fish to fry.

 So, what metaphorical mackerel of moronicness will I be serving up for your pleasure? Well, before I reveal my latest addition to my human scratching-post collection, let me just say that it’s been quite some time since I wrote anything about a person that operates within my current circle of local existence, and that was nothing more than a mere riff on a doctor who had all the charm and professionalism of Dr. Mengele at a B’nai B’rith brunch.

Also, if you have been a long-time reader of my stuff, then you already know that the majority of it, prior to my New Mexico relocation. was generally, based off of my observations regarding art, the Phoenix art scene, or the people therein. In other words, a fairly narrow worldview within a very large city. But now that I find myself in a city that literally has one stoplight in what serves as its downtown center, and where there is a scarcity of artistic ice giants to slay, my outlook has been driven inward.

Over the last two years, my life has gone through an occasionally difficult yet wholly transformative evolutionary process, and what was once important, is no longer, and what I once regarded as irrelevant, has become crucial. And no, it has nothing to do with veganism, CrossFit, or religion, thank Odin. I simply haven’t had to deal with the same kind of stressors here that I did there, as I alluded to earlier at the start of this screed. But over the last few weeks, I have observed a rising wave of prideful ignorance cresting within my normally bucolic slice of small-town serenity, and I will be damned if I let it get a toehold past what it has already sadly gained, if not corrupted, outright.

But as usual, I’m getting somewhat ahead of myself, so without any further ado, let me introduce our newest and unwilling guest ripe for mockery: a businesswoman who in my opinion, holds sentiments, political assessments, and an alleged hypocritical Faith that can only be charitably described as… well, let’s just say it’s “refreshingly unique”, and leave it at that, shall we?

Ladies and Lords, if I may present to you, yet another Trump-loving and self-declared Christian that our unfortunate republic has been infested by as of late, so please put your hands together for our newest guest of dubious mention, the one, the only, the unintentionally hilarious…

[Polite clapping occurs, balloons fall from the ceiling, and the confetti cannons go off without a hitch Go big, or go home.]

 But before I get started, can we just take a moment and appreciate the fact that she might possibly have the most badass surname? I mean… Seawolf?

That’s the name of a Bond supervillain, and it absolutely rocks. Granted, she might not have the standard hollow volcano lair or the army of jump-suited minions, but you know she’s seriously working on it. However, since we live in the real world, I’m picturing something more of a low-key approach to her world domination scheme, and I think I know what it should be. In my mind’s eye, I can totally envision an 80’s action adventure TV show with her surname as the title, and given the selected genre, you just know it would have to come standard with an 80’s new-wave kick-ass theme song- perhaps one of those catchy ear-worms that were so popular back then?

As I see it, the show’s plot would center on the mysterious intrigues of a conservative hypocrite who under the cover of a bastardized religion based on a ludicrous zombie sky-daddy myth, rules over a fearful and paranoid fiefdom. Masquerading as an innocuous real estate agent and insurance broker, she engages in fierce and heated battles with elitist atheist Libtards, who foil her attempts to spread vile disinformation, cloaked in arrogant ignorance by utilizing a secret arsenal of facts gleaned from books.

And as an additional benefit, appearing in a special cameo on the first celebrity-packed pilot episode, will be Reality itself! That is some weekly edge of your seat action going on, and I haven’t even mentioned the line of Seawolf-branded toys from Kenner yet. In addition to this million-dollar idea, I suggest it be paired with the seminal TV classic “Airwolf” starring Jan-Michael Vincent, market the packaged duo as the “Air and Sea Action Block”, sit back, collect the toy-driven revenue, and watch the Nielsen ratings go through the roof.

Obviously, the lead role has to be definitely played by the 1983 incarnation of American actress Jane Badler, who kicked some serious Earthling butt as Diana, the main antagonist in NBC’s amazingly inventive science fiction series, “V”. Fortunately, since her character was a prideful alien lizard who was forced to wear a human skin suit to blend in, this part wouldn’t be that much of a stretch overall for the incredibly gifted Badler, as it would remain true to my vision of how I perceive Mrs. Seawolf, so everybody involved gets a win of sorts.


Now at this point, you’re probably thinking two things: the first being that “I would binge-watch the f**k out of that show”, and the second is most likely wondering precisely why I have such vitriol for Mrs. Seawolf, which to be fair, is a valid enquiry. And as usual, I do have the answer readily available for you- I loathe bullying, I despise hypocrisy, and I find the act of endeavoring to hide both under a veil of contrived and saccharine drenched Christianity to be truly abominable within a polite society.

Let me say this for those of you who might think I’m about to start bagging on religion in general, for I am not. If you want to truly believe in a magical zombie sky-daddy, feel free. We do live in a country that allows you a wide range in how you express your beliefs, so I guess the end point being made here is “America… F**K YEAH!”

Nevertheless, if you think you can use the Word of God to rationalize and shelter your own inherent hate, your personal biases, or your lack of humanity without consequence, then know that I will, and with great joy no less, take that tome of values that you’ve obviously never read or follow, and metaphorically feed it to you one page at a time, until you either come to understand the subtext of its message, or apologize for being such a pretentious twat. I have zero tolerance for those who abusively forge the Faith into a sword for promoting their own agendas, and if your mythical God doesn’t call you out for it, I sure as hell will.

Speaking of which, please for the love of your imaginary God, stop yelling from the gilded rafters of your tax shelter known as your church, that you’re being “persecuted” for your beliefs.

You are not. You are in fact, being called out for your hypocritical intolerant bulls**t- no more, no less. So, you can either practice what your book of instructions ACTUALLY says, which you so endlessly mangle as you screech-preach, or shut the hell up you sanctimoniously pious pinheads. Until somebody comes along and protests your relationship, your marriage, your lifestyle, and then tries to legislate it under the misappropriated auspices of the Law, you’re doing just fine.

And this take on what a purportedly religious person should represent, and more to the point, how they should act, fortifies the crux of the following story arc, so let’s get into it, shall we? As I have previously mentioned, I had been banned from my local community FB page for acidly pointing out its consistent hypocrisy, and due to my being exiled abroad as if I were *Dante Alighieri, I wandered through the darklands of the Web, eventually finding myself on the aforementioned GCG FB page, which in retrospect, presented itself very much in the way that Idaho does.
*[The Poet Dante was exiled from Florence for his public support of the Holy Roman Emperor over the established Papacy. The expulsion lasted for the entirety of Dante’s life, but it did influence his masterwork The Divine Comedy, which undeniably, drew its inspiration from his real-life experiences of roaming through an allegorical “hell” seeking protection.]

That is, it’s blandness personified at first glance, but the deeper you get into it, you realize that there’s way more family trees without any branches holding the thing together as a whole. But for all of its insipidness, there was also still the occasional intrusion of viewpoints that aren’t warranted or requested, and in the limited time I was exposed to the page, I observed that these sentiments typically emitted from one person alone, that being Seawolf. I decided to drop the “Mrs.”, because let’s face it kids, it’s far cooler having a tussle with a supposed Bond villain, rather than your run-of-the-mill Karen who comes off as if she’s a super-cranky PTA board member who’s just discovered that nobody really likes her store-bought cookies.

Just like the previous page I had gotten booted off of, the GCG enclave in my opinion, suffers from the same banal issue- that being the curse of a thin as tissue-paper-skinned administrator, who at best, arbitrarily follows the rules that they themselves hypocritically enforce with an iron fist in regards to others. This in itself is not surprising, given the alleged small-town mind set of said overseer, but it is annoying as heck when all you want is a bookcase, but find yourself suffering the ramblings of your ill-informed Aunt Karen instead.

And this is long before she possibly hits the well-stocked liquor cabinet, which I feel, presents itself as being even worse, because that at least, could be used as a valid excuse for coming off as dumber than a box of lightly-used urinal cakes. To be honest, I think we’ve all experienced enough of our share of the right-wing faux Christian constitutionalist dogma that Trumpeters ceaselessly post like Pavlov’s intolerant cousin, but we shouldn’t have to be subjected to it when we’re trying to unload our BBQ grill, now should we?

Apparently, Seawolf disagreed, because she banned me faster than the time it took her to ignore the tenets within her Bible, once I pointed this fact out. To be honest, I’m more aggravated that now I have to search even harder to find what I’m looking for, in an effort to avoid a four-hour road trip to Las Cruces, but if there is a flip side to all of this, It would be that I’m also as equally exhilarated that I now have something fun to write about, and it’s literally right in my own backyard.

The mythical sociopath known as the Lord taketh away, and then, he giveth right back, so thanks for that, my good Sky-daddy Zombie. I so owe you one- just let me know if you want that one in the form of “virgin” or “married”.

Getting back on track, my newest expulsion was met with a dismissive laugh, and a softly uttered “Are you f**king kidding me?”, and as a rule, I normally would just ignore it and move on, but since I do have a lot of time on my hands these days due to my newest health concerns gluing me to my couch, I decided to put a leash on my metaphorical Internet pig named *έρευνα and do nothing more than take a quick and gentle hike through Seawolf’s social media, both to kill some time and as a side benefit, possibly find some twatastic truffles for a late-night snack, and I was not disappointed at all.
*[AKA: “Erevena:”, or “Research”, in Greek.]

Now, what did I discover exactly? Well, there was the afore mentioned hypocrisy, ignorance, conspiracy theories, along with a sense of self-important paranoia, faux Christian values, unquestioning devotion to Benedict Donald, and enough whining to justify her claiming a tax deduction for operating as as a vineyard. Turns out however, that not only could I have left έρευνα at home, as all this was lying right on the ground in front of me, but had the advantage of being already pre-packaged with my name printed neatly on top.

But how could I? For not only does έρευνα have the best road-trip stories you’ve ever heard, she also knows everything too. Thanks, Internet pig- I owe you one. Just let me know if you want that one in the form of “tentacle porn”, “conspiracy theory”, or “I promise I won’t make you into virtual bacon.”

 I’ve written before regarding the mental proclivity among the so-called Christian followers of our Cheeto-In-Chief, that being how they’ll go out of their way to attack others they dislike for certain foibles, but slavishly ignore the very same glaring character flaws inherent within the rapidly mentally decomposing Jack-o’-lantern currently camouflaged as our president, and the members of the party he incompetently leads.

These include, but are most certainly not limited to, the following: xenophobia, white nationalism and supremacy, voter fraud, sexual assault and domestic violence, acts of political violence, pedophilia, collusion, foreign influence on our electoral process, cyber-bullying, bribery, influence peddling, abuse of power, rampant homophobia, rampant narcissism, fabricated falsehoods, half-truths, quid pro quos, willful ignorance, supporting a president with disturbingly blatant cognitive issues in relation to his ability to accept or function within, the construct of actual Reality, and my newest personal favorite, that being the turning of two blind eyes to Trump’s bestest-buddy Putin offering a “bounty” on our very own soldiers.

And when you dare to mention and by that, I mean prove, that his acts of treason, lies, incompetence, paranoiac tendencies, inflammatory and constant Twitter shout-outs to the racist sub-section of his base, and idolization of, and attempts to implement fascism, are contrary and destructive to American values, they just stick their heads further up their own asses and claim the moral victory, regardless of what’s just been proven.

People always say that mixing cocaine and heroin together creates one hell of a speedball, but they’ve obviously never experienced the rush you get when you combine undiluted willful ignorance with religious hypocrisy, and then pretend you didn’t. However, as specified, I did go a-walking through the dark woods of Seawolf’s various social media pages, because more than anything, I just honestly wanted to know what in the hell her problem was with anyone seemingly challenging her opinion past it being what I considered a flaw of character.

Instead, I found what in my humble estimation, constitutes a range of personality quirks, that for somebody who’s properly licensed and trained, might be able to make not only a few house payments off of, but possibly build a whole career around as well. Here I was, looking for nothing more than a simple humorous tangent that I could dust off and drop into a later story, but instead, the ghost of Kurt Vonnegut swung by my writer’s garret, and said, “I got something for ya.” Even when dead, the man still inspires.

However, despite the bounty I had uncovered, I still wasn’t going to write anything regarding her, until I discovered that not only was she openly and publicly supporting the odiously ill-informed restaurant I wrote about in the last blog, but that she’s also allegedly one of those dedicatedly asinine “anti-maskers” who sadly, and all across the country, are having full-on meltdowns for being asked to wear a piece of fabric over their faces when they go out in public.

Mind you, this is being requested in order to flatten a pandemic that has killed over 170 thousand of her fellow Americans, and infected millions more, but oh, the blackened inhumanity of the crushing burden placed upon her, am I right? Now, before any of you internet constitutionalists start shrieking, it has NOTHING to do with your civil rights either- if you want to know why, read the blog before this one, because I’m not rehashing that issue yet again, and if you don’t want to, learn how to use Google.

It’s become fairly obvious that when the authorities asked people to be concerned about others, they didn’t really know who their target audience was, but it most definitely wasn’t today’s modern “Christian” demographic, who while crowing the loudest about innate morality, generally displays the least of it.

Let me also point out that thanks to the combined idiocy of the anti-masking movement, multiple states opening up way too early, and the lax execution of social distancing and mask protocols, the past several months of isolating ourselves has proven to be all for naught. This negation of the flattening effect is solely due to the aforementioned issues that so far, have caused over 20 states to experience their Covid-19 infection rates skyrocket almost to the point of no return.

This not to be unexpected state of affairs, led our inept president to panic as he often does, and foist yet another one of his maladroit “solutions”, leading to the following declaration, and I quote;

“But I think we put ourselves at a disadvantage, I told my people. I said, ‘We’ve gotten so good at testing … We test much more than any other nation,’ so you hear about all these cases. So, instead of 25 million tests, let’s say we did 10 million tests. We’d look like we were doing much better because we’d have far fewer cases. You understand that, I wouldn’t do that, but I will say this: We do so much more than other countries it makes us, in a way, look bad but actually we’re doing the right thing. When you do more testing, you find more cases”

If one were to apply this f**ked-up logic as a guide to real life scenarios, this would mean that if you don’t take a pregnancy test, you’re not truly pregnant, if you don’t report a crime, then it never happened, and as long as those multiple guys my ex-girlfriend cheated on me with keep their mouths shut, all those skin-flutes she performed solos on were apparently just the random penii of my imagination, which not too surprisingly, makes me feel even worse, notwithstanding my feeling of the need to rinse out my brain with gasoline.

But there was still some of the best words to come out of the sewer-pipe of our hopefully soon to be ex-president, the majority occurring during a recent press conference where he was not only touting a recent jobs report but avoiding taking questions as well, as it would showcase his disconnect from reality yet again. To quote the Mango in Chief;

 “If you look, we were talking this morning, something to think about. China was way early, and they’re getting under control just now. And Europe was way early, and they’re getting under control. We followed them with this terrible China virus.

And we are likewise getting under control. Some areas that were very hard hit are now doing very well. Some were doing very well and we thought they may be gone and they flare up and we’re putting out the fires. But other places were long before us, and they’re now… It’s a life. It’s got a life. And we’re putting out that life because that’s a bad life that we’re talking about.”

Continuing in his inanity, he went onto say: “These are not numbers made up by me. These are numbers. [WTF does that even mean?] We’ve implemented an aggressive strategy to vanquish and kill the virus, and protect Americans at the highest risk, while allowing those at lower risk to return safely to work. That’s what’s happening. Our health experts continue to address the temporary hotspots in certain cities and counties, and we’re working very hard on that, where the relationship with the governors is very good.

We made a call, Mike Pence made a call just yesterday, and said, “What do you need?” Not one governor needed anything. They don’t need anything. They have all the medical equipment they can have. “Thank you, US government.”

This is the person in “charge” boys and girls… don’t you feel better? Odin knows, I do. This lying sack of stable genius by the way, is someone that Seawolf feels the need to publicly support nonetheless, but as ascribed above, I still wasn’t planning on writing about my newest person of interest, despite her being a fan of a man so spiritually and physically corrupt, that the entity she claims to worship wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire.

This is of course, somewhat ironic, considering that he’ll be taking up eternal residence in a 24/7 barbeque pit when he finally dies, and in my humble opinion, given her glaring hypocrisy, sheer ignorance, self-righteousness, and sense of almost paranoiac self-absorption, odds are good that her condo on the Lake of Fire will probably be across from his. That is, if you believe in this sort of malarkey.

And mythical Lord not above, she does. So, what pray tell, finally goaded me into doing so? Well, it was this arrogant little slice of gall right here.

This is without a doubt, one of the most privileged things I’ve ever read. Oh, poor baby… your precious full-on mamas-boy was refused entry to a private business out of concern for other people’s health, and he ran to you like a candy-assed bitch to complain about it? What did he expect you to do, Mommy Karenest? Call the manager? Stage a drive-around protest? Post another FB rant whining about the unfairness of it all? Oh, wait- you did do that, so… my bad.

And before you start whining “He thought he woke up in a free country”, I will point out that while this is true, the vey next thing he did was walk into a private business, which has the right to set whatever rules it desires within it. It’s hilarious though that the very same demographic who defended homophobic bakers, fail to see the irony in when the situation affects them directly. All snarkiness aside, I’m pretty sure that somehow, they’ll be able to make up the lost revenue from his not being able to buy a Monster energy drink and a slightly stale bag of pork rinds.

What’s truly irritating though, is the fact that Ruth thinks people who willingly violate a stores common-sense policy, set in the interest of not adding to an infection rate that’s currently ranked as #1 in the world, are the ones suffering an actual hardship, despite their obvious and sadly increasing, self-righteous absurdity. It’s been said as of late that those who say “I can’t breathe with a mask on” and “Other women hate me because I’m so smart and pretty”, are the same person, and I think that applies here.

However, I do particularly enjoy her ludicrous assertion that if you choose to wear a mask, more power to you, if you don’t, you shouldn’t be treated differently.” Let that resonate for a moment. Just because you’re willingly violating the rules of a private business clearly stated and set in common sense, but that’s still no reason for them to view you differently than their regular customers who aren’t acting like a cackle of arrogantly entitled jackasses? Interesting take on reality there, Ruth. Not even remotely close to rational, but interesting.

And yes, you do have the option to spend your money elsewhere, but the next small-town store you’ll visit most likely will ask you to wear a mask too, so either get comfortable ordering your Hamburger Helper from Amazon, or learn how to suck it up, blubbercup.

You’re being asked to wear a mask for a few minutes at best, and practice social distancing, Ruth- it’s not like you’re being forced into a cattle car at gunpoint, marked with a Star of David or a pink triangle, and taken to a camp. You’re waddling your ass into Walmart for a forbidden pint of Häagen-Dazs and a bottle of Boones Farm, so chill the f**k out, you histrionic harpy.

But here’s where the log-ride to Hell really starts, and the rabbit hole gets even deeper. See, it’s not enough that Seawolf is an allegedly avowed anti-masker, she’s also quite the self-declared woman of Faith too, which is actually something that I, as a recovering Catholic, can respect. I’m sorry, did I say respect? I do think I may have to add a modifier of sorts here, as this statement is slightly incorrect. I respect untainted Faith, not the quasi-bullspit dogma that the so-called Christian followers of Trump practice, as I’ve previously described.

Happily, there’s no better way to show you’re a virtuous and ardent Christian than by implying someone you politically dislike is a murderer, let me tell you. Where’s the proof of this assertion? Well coincidentally, if you have Faith, you don’t need proof. It’s literally the underpinning of every known religion that’s ever been manufactured by man, not the entity being blindly worshipped, no matter what the other 18 to 4200 [estimates vary] religions may think or say.

But as I did mention proof, here’s some to back up my opinion, and it’s from Seawolf’s own hands.

What fortuitous luck, Ruth- for not only did you manage to find a deity whose prejudices match your own, he’s also way cool with his blessed lamb bearing false witness as well. Yeah, this post is hilarious. You won’t wear a mask for five minutes to protect your fellow citizens, but you can take the time to make a thoroughly tasteless joke in full defiance of how your mythical God expects you to act.

But. let me give you some begrudging credit here, for despite the proven risk posed by large gatherings, despite the number of parishioners and their priests who’ve died after defying common sense protocols and the law, you’ve still openly maintained that religious services are still “essential”, no matter how illogical holding them in the face of a pandemic is, because the zombie carpenter whose teachings you deliberately misinterpret will protect you from the plague he’s responsible for sending in the first place, right?

I guess all those other devoted worshippers didn’t tithe or pray enough to be saved, so it sucked to be them, I guess. I’d point out to Seawolf that the holy tome she cherry-picks as if it were the buffet at Sizzler, directly addresses this issue in the Gospel According to Matthew, which for those of you who may not know, happens to be the first book of the New Testament.

To note, Matthew 6:5-6 states; And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

In essence, you don’t need a specific building to have a chat with God, you just need Faith. Weird that the only people saying you need to attend church or else face holy repercussions, are also the very same individuals demanding that you pay a weekly usage fee to be granted access to an all knowing, all powerful and for some as yet undetermined reason, cash-strapped deity. Strange how that works… but let me not put words into the mouth of a complete stranger, I’ll just let the said strangers’ social media postings speak for themselves.

If anything, they may provide the best clarity as to why it’s absurd to chart the course of your life around a collection of allegorical morality tales, passed down orally over the course of decades by illiterates to scribes who, after applying what diplomatically might be labeled as a fair amount of creative license. turned them over to the powers that be. Those jacklegs in turn, then weaponized them in order to assert supreme guidance and control over a populace far too ignorant and fearful to question those in charge about the massive contradictions inherent within.

If you happen to be someone who currently identifies as a Christian, odds are pretty good that you might be feeling somewhat persecuted or offended by my assertions, but please don’t. When all is said and done, it’s just my opinion, and you don’t have to agree with it if you don’t want to. After all, it’s not like I follow a book that endorses your need to burn eternally for not believing in the same imaginary deity that I do. Can you just imagine how offensive that would actually be?

Nevertheless, if you’re seriously envisioning hoping to see me from your perch on a heavenly cloud, doing butterflies in the Lake of Fire because of my stance, rest assured that when your imaginary Lord and Savior is done with appearing on toast and in random stains, he’ll return from Narnia truly set on kicking my heathen ass.

Happily, as you will come to see, these gentle and totally non-threatening, non-judgmental, assertions supporting both her faith and a pastor who was fairly arrested for his non-compliance with established state health protocols, are truly overflowing with the best distillation of Christian acceptance, tolerance, and a love that can only be achieved when one merges the Word with an as yet undiagnosed mental condition in order to convey the purest essence of piousness.


I won’t speak for you, but you have to just adore someone who claims that whomever made sure a law designed to protect both people and these religious jackasses alike, should be careful, because they eventually will have to “give an account” to God. It brings to mind the classic joke of a flood that traps a preacher inside his own church:

“A fierce tempest descends on a small town, and soon turns into a flood. As it does, the local preacher is seen praying on the church’s doorstep, as he is quickly getting surrounded by water. Seeing this, one of the townsfolk comes up the street in an inflatable raft.

“Better get in, Preacher. The waters are rising fast.” “No,” he says, “I have faith that the Lord will save me.” But the waters still rose, forcing the preacher to seek refuge on the balcony, when yet another person arrives in a motorboat. “Climb in, Preacher, and I’ll get you out of here.” Once again, the preacher refuses the offer, saying: “I won’t leave, because I have faith that the Lord will save me.”

Within moments, the dark floodwaters rise over the church, leaving only the steeple’s cross above the turbulent water. Clutching to it with his last reserve of energy, the preacher fights valiantly to stay above the water, when out of the storm-wracked sky, a helicopter appears, and the Coast Guard diver aboard yells down to him, saying. “Preacher! Grab the damn ladder! This is your last chance!”

Yet again, the preacher insists that, “The Lord whom I serve so faithfully will save me!”

Unsurprisingly, he drowns. Being a truly pious man, the preacher goes straight to heaven, landing squarely at the feet of his beloved and beseeched God. and with just a hint of ungratefulness in his voice, this man of the cloth asks him, “Lord, I had unyielding faith in you. Why didn’t you save me from my watery grave?” God looks at him with eyes blazing and his face set firmly in a scowl and says…

“What did you want from me, you dumbass? I f**king sent you two boats, a Coast Guard diver, and a me-damn helicopter.”

It‘s this state of psychosis that just reinforces my long-held belief that if I were forced to base my entire life on a fictional book, I’d go with “The Three Musketeers” by Alexander Dumas long before I’d choose such a ridiculously unbelievable tome like the Bible. Yeah, I said it, and I’ll stand behind it 100%. After all, I’d still get drama, adventure, sexy maidens, not to mention sword-fights, and I wouldn’t have to deal with the hassles of a petty sociopath that demands incessant worship either.

Well, other than King Louis XIII of course, but if he got too bitchy to deal with, I could always just leave France.

Look, I can believe in a great flood, I can believe in twelve dudes hanging around a truly charismatic amateur prophet, and I’ll even buy the whole concept of a guy getting swallowed by a whale and surviving, because it actually has happened at least once *before, but my cynicism is on high alert when it comes to what’s supposedly “real” in the Good Book’s bats**t-crazy narrative.

Things like; people turning into salt, two of every animal from across the globe arriving in the Middle East to get on a home-made ark built by a 500-year-old man, the attempted rape of angels, Jacob wrestles with God and wins, God and Moses have an intense chat through a burning bush, Samson kills 1,000 men with the jawbone of an ass, God sends two bears (?) to punish forty-two random children for mocking Elisha’s male pattern baldness, Jesus fed 5000 people with five loaves and two fishes, Jesus walks on water, Jesus recommends cutting off body parts if they cause you to sin, Jesus turns water into wine, [which is actually my favorite trick, ever] Jesus rises from the dead, which in turn, causes the other dead people to get out of their graves and walk around and last, but certainly not least- 144,000 Jews will be going to heaven, everyone else is going to hell.

Yeah… I can totally see why people would devote their lives and sacrifice their working intellect to this Ponzi scheme disguised as Salvation. It all makes sense now. Even if Hunter S Thompson himself was drinking peyote-infused margaritas, he wouldn’t be able to come up with a concept this insane. Thankfully however, L. Ron Hubbard was able to close that metaphysical gap twixt religion and sci-fi, which when you look at it, was really more of a comically thrown-down gauntlet, than an actual rebuke. After all, laughter is the very best medicine, and I like to think of myself as a walking drugstore of drollery, even on my off days. In fact, even the Bible addresses the concept of humor… sort of. From the good book, as it were, a few passages regarding laughter:

Job 8:21:He will once again fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.” [Nice!]
Psalm 2:4:“But the one who rules in heaven laughs.” [Um, ok… about what, exactly?]
Psalm 37:12-13:“The wicked plot against the godly; they snarl at them in defiance. But the Lord just laughs, for he sees their day of judgment coming.’ [Ok, that’s a bit dark…]
Peter 4:13:Instead, be very glad—for these trials make you partners with Christ in his suffering, so that you will have the wonderful joy of seeing his glory when it is revealed to all the world.” [I need to suffer like Christ did? F**k that…]
Proverbs 14:13:Laughter can conceal a heavy heart, but when the laughter ends, the grief remains.” [Sigh. Do any of these not contain an ending that isn’t a downer?]
And possibly the best one describing the joy and mirth that only the followers of a fever-dream can spread as freely and willingly as Trump spreads his hypocritical ignorance, that being:

Proverbs 1:25-28: “Since you disregard all my advice and do not accept my rebuke, I in turn will laugh when disaster strikes you; I will mock when calamity overtakes you- when calamity overtakes you like a storm, when disaster sweeps over you like a whirlwind, when distress and trouble overwhelm you. “Then, they will call to me but I will not answer; they will look for me but will not find me,”

There’s that compassionate and all-loving God we’ve all come to know and are brainwashed to fear like children in the dark, lest we burn or find ourselves eternally entangled in chains of ice! For the imaginary everlasting life of me, I can’t understand why I’m not fully on board with this mental illness masquerading as a lifestyle choice.

Sorry/not sorry.

I just love it when I get to throw their ignorant catchphrases back in their faces, and I’m not ever going to pass up an opportunity to do so when it presents itself. The reason I bring up the topic of frivolity is that due to their Savior so-called, lacking a sense of non-spite-based humor, most of them in his Grace follow his/her/its lead in how they view what qualifies as funny.

And Seawolf is no exception. Not by a long or even a short shot. Once more, I ask, and the internet in its wisdom, provides the proof of what I’ve come to believe, solidified by my depth of research, and her own words:

Now, there’s probably more than a few of you reading this who’ve not only understood why these two screengrabs are unintentionally funny just by themselves, but I’d like to think that there’s far more of you wondering how somebody who runs two allegedly successful businesses could also have posted this absurdity without a second, or obviously, a first thought as well.

To that, I have no answer or workable theories. All I can say is that sometimes, you just have to sit back and wonder if the carbon monoxide detector in someone’s home needs to have its batteries checked, and that right quick. So, let’s take a moment and unpack these postings if we may, by calling attention to the glaringly perceptible, starting with the public statement issued by Michelle Lujan Grisham, current Governor of New Mexico.

First, the Easter Bunny is a myth, much like ghosts, goblins, the Tooth Fairy, Guardian Angels, the Sandman, the concept of American exceptionalism, and if I were so inclined to stoke the fire just for my own amusement, Jesus Christ as well. Second, as established earlier, and by the Bible itself no less- church attendance is NOT “essential”, no matter how much Seawolf would like to interpret it as such.

So, if you have an issue with what was set in stone by Matthew in the New Testament Ruth, feel free to take it up with his editor-in-chief, as you quietly worship the same in solitude, And third, it’s fairly clear that Governor Grisham’s message masks not only a serious plea for her constituents to follow common sense guidelines to help flatten the increasingly deadly COVID-19 curve, but also serves as an obvious tongue in cheek assurance for New Mexico’s children who may be somewhat frightened by the starkness of their new reality.

And as I see it, you’d have to be the intellectual equivalent of a Dorito chip to be provoked by it, or misinterpret the same as anything else.

I can only imagine what she used to tell her progeny on Christmas Eve when NORAD would report on Santa’s progress across the globe- she most likely complained that they weren’t posting updates about Jesus and his upcoming birthday party the next day. Poor guy… every year, his birthday has the rotten luck to fall on Christmas, and nobody ever remembers to buy him a gift.

Regarding the “crowded beaches” posting, I’m not entirely sure what Seawolf was hoping to convey here- she’s obviously in favor of New Mexico’s citizens defying Gresham’s valid plea for self-quarantine, as evidenced by her “Governor Supreme” slight, but the question arises as to why she couldn’t find a less ridiculous image to use in conjunction with her POV.

For those of you who may not be in the loop, Arizona (where I had lived for over 25 years) is a landlocked state, with no beaches, None. Zip. Nada. And it won’t have any until the earthquake conservatives have been waiting for hits and drops California right into the ocean, thereby giving people for the first time, an actual reason to willingly admit that they’re going to Quartzite.

Granted, one could argue that she knew this, and was trying to foist a sardonic jab supporting the willingly idiotic citizenry of Arizona, but given her trail of dedicated obliviousness thus far, I trust this theorem with the same resolve that I’d give to my faith in the safety of gas station vending-machine sushi.

Speaking of “Faith”, if there’s one area that those who claim to have it should be concentrating on during this modern-day plague, it’s obviously trying to circumvent if not outright block, a woman’s body autonomy. I have always found it interesting to see a group of people who proudly label themselves as “Pro-Life” screeching dramatically since 1973 about what is still a legal medical procedure in the United States as nothing less than state-sanctioned murder, but at the same time, are also more than happy to sit on their couches when it comes to the issues a true advocate for preserving Life should be concerned about.

These include the homeless veterans and mentally ill living on our streets, the scores of immigrant children locked in cages and dying on cold concrete floors in ICE facilities, African-Americans being brutalized by our nation’s police, along with the scores of children, the elderly, and the needy who lack for food and basics.

Toss in the millions for whom the GOP wishes to do away with their affordable healthcare, if only to showcase the hypocrisy of those who claim to truly believe in “Life”, but only care about it up until the point of birth. After that, you’re on your own fully-realized fetuses, so get off your ass, get a job, and best of luck! However, if you bother to ask any of these Bible-fondlers just what should be done in regards to these pressing issues, don’t expect anything else save for an overly rehearsed and stale diatribe regarding the concept of one’s personal responsibility.

I’ll flesh out this take of mine in a bit, but first- let’s see what Seawolf has to self-righteously say about a choice she’ll never, her fantasy God willing, ever have to face: 


Sigh… every time I think to myself, that Seawolf can’t possibly disappoint her mythical maker and savior any further, it’s as if she gleefully hands over her rarely-opened Bible, randomly judges a total stranger who has done nothing to her, and says “Watch this!”.

I like how in the first posting she slurs Democrats as having an “evil agenda” and being rife with “hypocrisy” as she represents a party whose concept of “family values” means starting a new one with your mistress once your current wife catches you cheating with them, but I digress. But as someone who does identify as walking within the liberal sphere, I do have to admit that the Democrats do have a stunningly evil agenda… well, to Republicans, and  anyway.

The very idea of expecting employers to offer a living wage, granting access to truly affordable healthcare and advanced education, along with achieving the end goal of improving racial inclusivity, eradicating misogyny, homophobia, xenophobia, and the scourge of systematic racism? When one looks back, it’s amazing that we’ve been able to get away with promoting this malevolence for as long as we have. But as to the endemic hypocrisy Seawolf claims that she’s observed within the party’s dynamic?

Sheer. Unadulterated. Bulls**t At best.

Take heed that for decades, the phrase “My Body. My Choice”, was openly derided as sheer drivel by the very same people who are now, currently hiding underneath it in a blatantly transparent attempt to rationalize their abominably ignorantly blind selfishness. The major alteration in this reinterpretation by the party of disingenuous doublethink, are simple to spot.

In the original first version, it’s one person making the most agonizing choice they will ever have to decide for themselves, and that emotional weight will stay with and within them, for the rest of their lives. Only they alone are the ones to carry and suffer that burden. And as for the rest…  well debatably, I think we can all agree it’s possibly the last thing these *double-K members usually say, just before they start throwing the groceries out of their cart in the middle of a Whole Foods, after being asked politely to wear a mask. But unlike the tragic yet solo borne yoke of the first situation, the actions of these self-important simpletons can have a ripple effect far past the awkwardness of becoming a viral video or meme. There is a mathematical term that indicates the overall contagiousness of a virus, known as the R0′ or R naught. In essence, this is the basic reproductive number of said virus.

An R0 above 1 for instance, means the patient will possibly on average, infect at least one other person. According to India’s Union Health Ministry Joint Secretary Lav Agarwal who based his clinical assessment off of a recent ICMR study, the current R0 for the coronavirus infection is somewhere between 1.5 and 4. Noting that “If we take the ‘R0’ to be 2.5 then one positive person can infect 406 people in 30 days, if the lockdown and social distancing measures are not in place, but if social exposure is reduced by 75 per cent then that one sick person will only be able to infect only 2.5 persons,”

For those of you double-K’s who still may not understand what this indicates, it means wear your damn mask, stay back six feet, and you don’t need a haircut or a burrito that bad, because on no level whatsoever, is this even remotely about you. You follow protocol to not only protect yourself, you follow it mainly to protect others. I’ll repeat the relevant section about following protocol, just so it sinks in- you follow it mainly to protect others.

If you’re still confused, raise your hands, and I’ll explain it to you using flash cards first, and if that fails to deter your ignorance, I’ll break out the hand puppets. In short, your decision to be a bunch of anti-masking morons puts all of us at risk, so you can shove that pro-life propaganda right up your ass. That is, if there’s any room left next to your head that’s been up there for decades. When it comes to dissecting the second posting however, we can see that on the topic of church being “essential”, Seawolf is as obsessed with pushing this false narrative as I am when telling my girlfriend of 12 years that I’ve never even thought about what she would look like dressed up as Wonder Woman, and have no need to see her in thigh-high boots. Or with a whip. Wrestling Milla Jovovich in a tub full of whipped cream.

But my birthday is coming up in seven months, and I am open to non-traditional gifts, so… just a thought, is all I’m saying here.

Nevertheless, while the houses of the willingly fleeced sheep are not essential as proven by their own mythos, the need for Planned Parenthood to stay open is beyond any form of reproach. Planned Parenthood offers a wide range of services, such as screenings for breast, cervical, testicular, and prostate cancer, birth control measures such as vasectomies, STD and HIV testing and treatment, vaccines, prenatal care, and transgender health services.

In addition, counseling services, and social programs backed by government funding and private health insurance are available, along with educators that provide breastfeeding and nutrition information for expectant parents.

They are also the nation’s largest provider of medically accurate sex education to communities at large. And as if that wasn’t nearly enough, Planned Parenthood offers tools for the digital age, such as “Spot On”, a tracker for birth control and menstrual cycles, “Roo”, described as a sexual health chatbot, and a free hotline operated by qualified sex educators, known as Chat/Text.

The unfortunate reality for the wannabe Uterus constabularies whose mythical sense of religious entitlement fuels their attempts to control other people’s bodies without prior permission being given willingly first, is this:


 For as much as the Uterine Warriors want to cloud the issue at hand, the bogus slander that PP is nothing more than a 7-11 style baby murder mill is highly inaccurate at best. The average rate of abortions versus the other services Planned Parenthood offers is around three percent. And NONE of those are underwritten by the Federal government, due to the restrictions of the 1976 *Hyde Amendment, a legislative provision barring the use of federal funds to pay for abortions. unless the continuance of such will endanger the patient’s life, or if the pregnancy results from rape or incest.

Planned Parenthood’s public stance regarding this restrictive Amendment is stated as: When insurance coverage provides for all pregnancy-related health care except abortion, it interferes with the private health decisions that are best left to a patient, their doctor, and their family. The Hyde Amendment is a dangerous and unfair policy that lets politicians interfere in people’s personal health care decisions.”

If you really want to call Truth to Power, the very same conservative Christians who oppose the basic tenets of a woman’s right to choose, are also seemingly against having either their taxes raised or federal money reallocated to underwrite the housing, feeding, clothing, and educational costs of those children they want saved, but don’t ever want to hear about again once they are. In reality, the most effective way to reduce the number of abortions is to adequately fund and promote sex education and contraception access, which just so happens to be opposed by most people of Faith, because… um…. God, I guess?

Sadly, for my newest BFF Ruth, if that’s the defense she decides to use, this next minor factoid is going to be somewhat awkward. She may ask why that is, and trust me, the answer is a doozy. Unfortunately, you’re not going to like it Ruth, as it seems your manufactured God does have a sense of humor after all. Hilariously, if you ever want to quote what the Bible says concerning the act of abortion, your audience is going to think you’re an ex-member of Mummenschanz, because regardless of translation, the Bible says NOTHING ABOUT THE ACT. At all.

In fact, the word “abortion” doesn’t appear even once. If one takes the time to study the 600 laws of Moses, there is not one that mentions abortion directly, or even circuitously, for that matter. The closest anything gets to such is to be found in Exodus. 21:22-25 which only addresses the topic of miscarriage: “If men strive, and hurt a woman with child, so that her fruit depart from her, and yet no mischief follow: he shall be surely punished, according as the woman’s husband will lay upon him; and he shall pay as the judges determine. And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life, Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, Burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.”

Ironically Ruth, while the Bible does decree the death penalty for the act of murder, it has no set guidelines whatsoever regarding the act you like to claim God is so angry about. Weird, that. And before you go arguing semantics, as a rule of thumb, fetuses are not considered to be “viable”, that is, possessing the ability to live outside the womb, until after a minimal gestation period of twenty-four weeks. Infants birthed before this cutoff have an average survival rate of less than fifty percent.

Granted, there are cases of infants being born before the twenty-four-week ideal, but forty percent of these births see a far greater chance of suffering severe health issues for the long-term. However, their average survival rate generally falls between sixty and seventy percent. But if the carried infant manages to make the goal of twenty-seven-weeks before being born, its odds of dying go dramatically down, as does the possibility of experiencing longstanding health concerns. According to the Centers for Disease Control, abortions in the United States are generally performed early in the gestation cycle- over ninety percent taking place at the thirteen-week mark, an average of eight percent during the fourteen to twenty-week period, and the remainder (generally 1.2%) at twenty weeks plus.

And as for all those photos you’ve seen of “fetuses” pasted on the vile signs these morons like to harass total strangers outside Planned Parenthoods’ facilities with, they’re not entirely accurate. At thirteen weeks gestation, the, fetus is only as big as a lemon, and weighs about .81 ounces- hardly the fully-formed-babies’ images they like to pretend is this stage in the process. Developmentally, the organs are fully formed, red blood cells are being produced, and along with the skull, some of the larger bones, are beginning the process of hardening.

But it isn’t even remotely close to truly being a fully functioning human being, despite having some vital systems in place, as it still can’t survive outside the human body. And until it can do so, its termination is not murder, it’s a medical procedure, whether you believe it or not, like it or not, or fail to accept that your Faith has no heavenly precedent to forbid others from doing it.

Since we’re talking about science, I’d like to also point out that your standard in-vitro fertilization clinic disposes of more fertilized eggs than the output of all abortions combined, but I’ve yet to see any of these vaginal vigilantes protesting outside one of these places, oddly enough. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the factoid that those medical facilities that due to their prohibitive cost, find themselves catering to a financially stable demographic, rather than the poorer base that PP serves so honorably.

This, despite being under constant attack by hypocrites who have meltdowns every time they lose a court case asking for the ability to discriminate based on their religious beliefs. And to finally shut the door on this debate, my advice for you is quite literally, simplicity itself- you don’t like abortions? Then don’t f***ing have one.

See how I just freed up your weekends? Now, maybe you can take all that free time and actually stick your nose into the social problems that actually need and desire your input. I’d also suggest doing something about your living in an ivory tower passing judgements on strangers, but I’ll digress for the moment, as I have one last point of advice to add for the men on the frontlines of this issue, as if they have a right to be there- if you don’t have a uterus, you don’t get to have an opinion about what any woman does with hers.

Unless of course, you as a man, want to allow women whom will remain forever unknown to you, determining what you can do with your own spawn-hammer. In other words, where you can use it, when you can use it, and with whom you can use it. 

Oh, and since the condition of pregnancy is half your responsibility my fellow men, you’ll be legally required to either get a vasectomy if you don’t want kids, or be forced to use condoms, whether you want to or not. Too far, in regards to your right to body autonomy you say? Too bad. Now you know exactly how women feel having you tell them what they should and shouldn’t do, so maybe you should sit this one out.  And that, permanently. Oh, and Ruth? Thank you so much for coming to today’s TED talk. I doubt you learned anything, but it’s always nice to see all the chairs filled.

Moving forward, there’s a popular quote from the cinematic classic The Princess Bride, that goes “You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means.”, and this can be applied to Seawolf’s oft-repeated utterances of “essential”, in relation to church attendance and services as if she were a parrot showing off, but what pray tell does that word actually mean? The definition as set by Miriam Webster is such: “Of, relating to, or constituting essence: inherent. Of the utmost importance: basic, indispensable, necessary.”

 Given that modifier, I’m pretty sure it was never supposed to mean this fascist chattering:


That’s our so-called president “ordering” meat processing facilities to remain open, as if they actually require his permission to close, and as if the inability to purchase bacon would somehow bring this county to its knees. Ok, in retrospect, it just might, so let’s switch that bacon out for some bargain-basement lunch meat. The reason why these plants were closed was due to concerns regarding the overall access to PPE along with the general health and safety of the 4,913 workers who became infected with COVID, and in regards to the twenty who died from it.

What is truly and additionally repugnant however, is the glaringly obvious fact that despite the multiple fatalities suffered thus far and the exposure risk involved by making a large group of people unnecessarily travel during a pandemic, our mango Mussolini still thought it was a good idea to have 1100 cadets return to West Point, all so he could stage yet another masturbatory ego-stroke photo op for a tepidly received graduation speech that could have been hosted via Zoom.

The classification of what qualifies as essential is not broad. It’s exceedingly specific. When applied to the pandemic and who and what is vital to keep the American machine going, there are certain professions and businesses that can be closed outright, have restrictions put upon them, or see their services accessed online for the time being.

And while true that cosmetology and other grooming services can’t be internet based, they’re also an issue of vanity, not necessity. I for one, have made peace with my plague beard, and I advise others to do the same. You do know who and what are crucial though? Doctors, nurses, the field workers and farmers providing our sustenance, grocery stores, dentists, medical supply factories and their related industries, including medical testing facilities, and hospitals. Granted, this list is far from complete, but you get the gist of what I’m talking about.

But I will offer the following recommendations as to who is NOT “essential” in the short-term; these include and once again, are not limited to, coffee shops, all sports and exercise venues, bars, clubs, hairdressers, restaurants, shopping malls, schools, houses of worship, comic-book stores, movie theaters, massage parlors, yoga studios, art galleries, banks, and in Seawolf’s case, small-town real-estate agents and insurance brokers.

Anything you need, short of a new kidney, can be sent right to your doorstep, so stop complaining just because your roots are showing, you whiny pack of overprivileged Karens. And before you suggest that I’m anti-small business or people making a living, I’d point out that our government could easily freeze mortgages and utility bills, provide a guaranteed income for its citizens and offer solid financial protection for those businesses directly affected by having to close, but they deliberately choose not to do so, Why? Because the 1% whose obscene wealth is created a class they exploit and despise, don’t give a f**k about the working poor, and yes- it is that simple. Need proof?

Who was it asked, nay, demanded of, to be the guinea pigs in regards to returning things to “normal”? Not Jeff Bezos, or Bill Gates, nor Elon Musk, not any of the privileged who view the people of the world as truly expendable cogs in their machines. The very same people that they don’t want to provide with a living wage, but of whom they expect nothing less than an absolute and craven submission to their will alone, based on the fact that they put a vending machine or two inside their work/life balance sweatshops. When all is tabulated at the end of this nightmare of arrogance and incompetence, we as a society and if no more for the sake of a cultural adjustment, need to keep certain elements of what was once considered to be normal, and jettisoning the rest directly into the f**king Sun.

And if the cadre of our elected officials and community leaders dare chose to get in the way of this much-needed refurbishment, then I suggest that they all be on the next rocket, as soon as possible. And if you value your teeth being where they are currently placed inside your mouth, I’d suggest that you don’t start lecturing to me on how we need to reopen the schools either. Especially when the people who are meeting on how to accomplish this are doing so via FaceTime. If they can’t all meet in the same conference room to discuss their strategy, due to fears for their own health, I’m pretty damn sure that implies that where little Timmy and Susie are concerned, it isn’t safe for them either.

I noted earlier the unfounded persecution complex that most of these anti-maskers and so-called Christians suffer from, and when it comes to their consistent cosplaying of being a victim, I’m quite surprised they don’t travel with their own chalk outline, if only as a time-saver. When it comes to this delusion, Seawolf is no exception to this rule as we will see, far from it in fact, if I may be so bold. But when it’s combined with the inanity of a dedicated religious fervor based in fantasy, I’m not sure if it becomes funnier, or more pathetic to observe. Most likely, it’s both, so kudos for their ability to multitask, if for no other reason than to unintentionally amuse the rest of us. Here’s yet another example that I feel backs up my narrative, but I’ll let you judge for yourselves:

What’s my take away from this duo of combined density? Black humor, mostly. A sub-group of sub-people who bleat constantly that Liberals are Sheep who can’t think for themselves, Conservatives are the one demographic that seems to have the sharpest skillset at regurgitating the highest number of cut-and-pasted opinions, by far.

When it comes to posting online what personal views they supposedly hold so strongly, it’s always preceded by one of the following statements: “Taken from a friend’s page”, “Borrowed from a friend of mine”, “Written by a real Teacher / Cop / Doctor / Massage Therapist / Barista / True American Patriot / Wildebeest Shepard who lives in the Yucatan Peninsula”, or whatever the profession who’s credible opinion, based in fact that they’re trying so desperately to undermine.

Or as posted by Ruth, the original arms-length standby; “I didn’t write this, but I agree with it”. Essentially, this tells you two fairly obvious things right off the bat- one, they’re not smart or creative enough to communicate whatever pointless and typically false narrative they’re trying to infect the conversation with, and second- you’re about to see what a spin on the Wheel of Whataboutism game show would be like ion the QAnon Network, if they didn’t ascribe to the belief that pedophiles were in charge of those too.

Deep State paranoia? You bet it’s there! The implication that a slimy Cabal of Shadows is controlling all of our movements? Check! A completely unfounded conspiracy that must be in place because you’ve been asked to be mindful of others (as well as your own) health? Hell yes! Somehow incorporating non-related topics to the issue at hand such as golfing, dentist visits, and of course abortion, into the mix of your personal moronicness?

Let’s all scream Bingo for the brain-dead win! 

Even given the fantastical ludicrousness of the first posting, our second contender nonetheless impresses me by miles with its revival-tent snake-oil self-absorbed hucksterism, and I’m going to tell you right now in case you haven’t guessed, I am a hard guy to impress. Just ask me sometime what I really thought of the 2003 film “What a Girl Wants” starring Amanda Bynes, and I will put several wrinkles in your previously crease-proof love for teen comedies forever. Or maybe you shouldn’t, come to think of it.

Speaking of thinking, let’s recap a few items that were mentioned earlier, before we dive into this upcoming moment of religious egomania. We’ve solidly established using Seawolf’s own social media postings and words, that she’s an alleged anti-masker, an allegedly arrogant Karen, and Christian hypocrite who openly supports a woefully vulgar demagogue who defecates on every value and principle she claims so haughtily to uphold. Not the best optics one should present to the world at large, but once again, I digress.

Amusingly however, that previous pile of puritanical putridness is about to grow a few inches taller after yet another decisive dissection of a belief system that at this point, can only be viewed as a severe case of Tourette’s Syndrome underwritten by tithing. But in order to do this religious pap smear true justice, we’ll have a bit of a throwback moment to the initial beginning of this screed assemblage known as Artbitch, when I used to go line-by-line through somebody’s inanity, and then feast on it like a plate of deep-fried Ding Dongs.

 Since it’s been awhile since I’ve done this, I may be a tad bit rusty, but that only adds to the entertainment factor, does it not?

RDS: “100,000-240,000 projected to die in the next 2-4 weeks in America!”

 AB: At the moment, it’s “only” over 170k dead and over 5M infected, which is far beyond any other countries pandemic rates, but as you gung-ho conservative types are so fond of noting: “WE’RE NUMBER ONE!”, so how about you show some of that patriotism you guys are always saying us Liberals lack, ok Ruth? And if you’re so truly concerned about people dying, then why won’t you listen to actual scientists and doctors, and WEAR A F***ING MASK LIKE A FUNCTIONING ADULT? Or just keep following the credo of “It is what it is”, as uttered by your orange calf.

 RDS: “I read this and I just had to go into my spare room and cry out to God!”

 AB: Well this is nice to see… Ruth finally took the lesson of Matthew 6:5-6 to heart! Granted, it was in her spare room, which if it’s anything like most peoples, is not only full of stuff that doesn’t fit in the garage, but is also the dusty repository for a never used treadmill and a hideously uncomfortable futon which doubles as a guest bed. Not exactly the best room to invite Jesus to hang out in with you, but baby steps and all that.

RDS: “Church of God we boldly need to take a stand and claim the blood of Jesus over our nation!”

AB: Um, a few minor things to point out if I may? It’s impossible for one to “take a stand” when the foundation of their faith is alleged to be based in hypocrisy, and as for the blood: A) I’m pretty certain Jesus is currently using all of his, and B) It’s bad enough we have COVID-19 falling out of the skies, so in relation to the said unavailable at the moment holy blood being cast “over our nation”, I’m sure none of us anywhere wants to experience a literal reenactment of the opening credit meat packing scene right out of “Blade” to no avail. Just saying.

RDS: “240,000 souls that could die without Jesus!

AB: I hate to be the one to break this to you Ruth, but save for the two individuals who were unlucky enough to score the reserved spots next to Jesus, nobody has ever died “with” Jesus. Plenty of us however, have had to die in the presence of morons who guilt the terminally ill to swear ironically undying allegiance to a petty and sociopathic deity. And this arrogance most certainly, will definitely find itself presented as a bragging point during the hour of hypocrisy they attend every Sunday. You know, it’s where they ask for forgiveness for their previous week’s sins, and come Monday, do the same crap all over again, knowing as long as they can get that last apology in before God collects them, they’re all good.

RDS: “I cried to a point where Cowboy had to come make sure I was ok!”

 AB; First question I have here is this: who the heck is “Cowboy”? Your son? Your husband? Your emotional support tortoise? And If I may be so curt, isn’t it quite the faux pas to interrupt one’s private session with God? I might be a cynic, but even I won’t dare to interrupt anyone who’s having an involved conversation with the most important of their imaginary friends. After all, I wouldn’t want to be bothered when I’m having a thoughtful chat with my half-dolphin-half-Scottish-ferret spiritual guide who goes by the name of Blowhole McCullen, now would I? Of course not.

In fact, I’m even surprised you mentioned it. In essence, I just want you to know I support your commitment to expressing your unique emotional outbursts, even if certain others might allegedly classify them as symptomatic of a mental illness that as of yet, remains unnamed.

 RDS: “There are souls going into eternity without Christ! We must stand on His word and His promises and pray that God destroy this virus! Destroy this panic! He said greater things than these shall you do! He was raising people from the dead! GREATER THINGS!!”

AB; Sigh… this one might actually give me an aneurysm, due to her inability to use punctuation as our lexicon dictates, but I said I’d do this, so let me do this. Souls do not require direction, as they are, if you believe in this sort of thing, going to go where they’re supposed to, and don’t require a tour guide, no matter if it knows where all the Sno-Cone stands are at or not. Also, how insane is it that you’re asking the very deity (once again if you believe in this claptrap) for his assistance in ending the plague that he deliberately hath wrought upon ye?

Let me put the valid concept of not asking for help in a way that even you can possibly understand, Ruth- Kirk never asked Khan, Sherlock Holmes never asks Professor Moriarty, Kiss never asks Metallica, Britney never dares ask Madonna, Captain America never asks the Red Skull, and Man, if he’s truly educated, never asks the mental illness masquerading as a mythical sky-daddy, either. You want to end this plague?


In reference to that last in all-caps statement of density, I’m not sure what I could do that’s “greater” than making sure total strangers don’t get deadly ill from the selfishness of the non-masking moron cult, but I’m fairly confident that happily sharing my four-cheese lasagna recipe with the world comes pretty damn close. And as for “raising the dead”?

Until the day l I see my favorite (and long-deceased) English teacher Bob Davis, telling others about the joy to be found in the writings of Kurt Vonnegut yet again, I’m going to remain a cynic and suggest dryly that when you have some free time, to go and get a CAT scan. Preferably, sooner than later.

RDS: “This does not have an expiration date as Pastor Todd Smith says! God have mercy on us!”

AB: Actually, that date has already passed quite some time ago, ever since Mankind came up with the concept of the Scientific Method, backed up by the dual principles of Reason and Logic. The best application of such in regards to the question of God’s existence was best summed up by George Carlin, the late American Comedian who said:

“Religion has actually convinced people that there’s an invisible man living in the sky who watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry forever and ever ’til the end of time… but He loves you!”

If the authorities caught any person doing such things to their fellow humans, they would throw them into a padded room, and throw away the only key. However, if there happens to be somebody preaching such inanity while they’re standing behind a pulpit, then you should not only slavishly worship the object of their delusion, you should also give them your money on a weekly basis, for some reason. For as Carlin also noted: ”He always needs money! He’s all-powerful, all-perfect, all-knowing, and all-wise, somehow just can’t handle money!”

 But without a doubt, I’m pretty sure her Pastor can, and most likely with a skillset that would make Louis Tully from “Ghostbusters” genuflect in awe. [We so miss you, Rick Moranis] To be clear, I’m not implying in any way, shape or form that his church isn’t above-board, but I do find it interesting that she deigns to give his name top billing before God’s, which let’s face it, is just sort of weird, don’t you think? And as long as we’re on the subject of blindly following men of the cloth, I’d point out bluntly that such loyalty usually doesn’t end well for them, or to the benefit of their followers either.

Cases in point: Jimmy Swaggert (sex scandals), Jim Bakker (sex & fraud scandals), Ted Haggard (sex & drug scandals), Bill Gothard (alleged sexual assaults & molestations), Shoko Asahara (terrorism & murder), Tony Alamo (sexual abuse, child rape, pedophilia, & underage marriage), Bob Coy (alleged child rape, pornography & sex scandals) Doug Phillips (alleged sexual assault), Mark Driscoll (plagiarism, alleged emotional abusiveness, misogyny, & misusage of church funds) and possibly the most notorious example in recent times, Jim Jones, whose paranoiac obsessions led to the mass suicide of his congregation in 1978 Guyana.

So, I think the message I’m trying to convey here is that you should definitely choose your role models carefully, because otherwise, the only mercy you may be granted is not being in the line of their direct sight.

 RDS: “We need to reach the lost!”   

AB: Oh, just relax, Ruth. They/ll be fine. Almost every cellphone these days has Google Earth or some rudimentary form of GPS, so it’s not like they can’t find their way back, and besides, not all who wander are lost, and those people most definitely won’t be asking for your help. Ever.

RDS: “We can not let the enemy win with this virus! That’s what he is trying to do! Kill off people with no hope of salvation!”

 AB: I have to admit, I find myself a tad bit lost here, so this maybe the only time Ruth could reach out and offer guidance. When you speak of this male “enemy”, who exactly, are you referring to? Donald Trump, whose egotistical incompetence has led our once-proud nation to the point of almost no return, Satan, who could come up with a much better plan, based on the fact that he literally thought up the Seven Deadly Sins while sitting in the loo, and who weirdly, is responsible for less deaths in the Bible (10) than God’s (estimated at 2.5M), so maybe your contempt should be directed squarely at your mythical God, who despite his being all-knowing, either somehow got caught with his robes down in relation to this, or more likely, allowed it to be set loose upon his most loved creations with nothing less than his full blessing.

That has just got to make the whole kissing his feet thing uncomfortable, if I were to hazard a guess. And as for the concept of salvation, if you’ve managed to live your life following even the most minor requirements of being a decent human being, you’ll never need to pray for it.

 RDS: “Shutting down churches!”

 AB: Yet again, you one-note apocalyptic pony, please refer to Matthew 6:5-6, and if you still don’t understand it, please go find an adult whose brain has not been converted into evangelical oatmeal to explain it you, using hand puppets if necessary. Oh, who am I kidding? It’s not only necessary, it’s also fairly obvious.

 RDS: “We have the answer! The answer is Jesus!” ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

 AB: If the answer is Jesus, what was the question asked? If it was “Who is the person that Christians worship, yet somehow have never learned the true lesson within his teachings?”, or maybe “Who do Christians use not only as a fallback rationalization for their marginalization and social rebuke of non-believers, claiming persecution for imagined slights, but also as justification for their sense of unfounded superiority?” , then yes, Jesus definitely is the “answer” you’ve been seeking.

If however, you’re in search of some form of guidance on which to base your personal moral code around, then let me save you plenty of worry, money and the hours you’d spend sleeping in on Sunday, by offering up the following one-size-fits-all spiritual T-shirt slogan and motto: TRY REALLY HARD NOT TO BE A DICK. See how easily that was to boil all the salvation sap down to an easily palatable tub of secular syrup?

Let’s glorify the best part, if we shall… if you do screw up, you can ALWAYS make amends, simply by apologizing, or doing something nice, or if you’re in the organized crime business, by hijacking a truck full of cigarettes, and then contritely gifting it to Nicky “Lettuce Lips” Scarlatina, who of course, will be more than happy to accept it at face value. And most likely, will then release all of your family members that he was holding hostage until you made good.

See? A far easier system to follow, hands down. All that aside, what I do love the most is the article she attached to this “Aren’t I a good Christian” back slapping exercise, that being a story where our Fanta Führer warns the country that he’s consistently and willingly betrayed since his first day in office that the next two weeks were going to be “tough”. Thank God that since he issued this uniformed utterance back in MARCH, things have only gotten easier, am I right?

Oh, wait…  well, this just got awkward.

To be fair though, deprogramming somebody who believes in magical thinking would probably be akin to getting me clean in regards to my weekly Ding Dong habit, so I already have somewhat of an idea of how hard that would be to pull off successfully, especially considering this inane view of whom Seawolf thinks her collective of Faith is converting to her side. All my snarkiness aside, I literally had to have other people read these postings in this, the Year of our Great Discontent 2020, to make sure I had grasped the context of her postings correctly. Once again, in her own words, and with my sincerest apologies in advance, I offer yet another slice of WTF pie.



Correct me if I’m wrong, but it IS the year of our nonexistent Lord, 2020, right? We’ve been to the moon, we all carry Star Trek tech on our hips, some of which is being used right now for some of you currently reading this, and I can only assume that we’re all pretty confident in our belief that if we have gastric issues, its main cause will not be attributed to a spiteful dwarf living inside our stomachs, or so I would hope. And despite what some of us may have experienced with an ex or two, truly demonic possession is not a thing either, unless you’re factoring in what was wrong with whomever greenlit “The Kardashians” under the premise it was going to be riveting entertainment for the ages.

 Notwithstanding that observation, I have to admit that the more I look around this woman’s dilapidated amusement park of a psyche, a place where all the rollercoaster rides seemingly have a definitive starting point, but no actual end in sight, it begs the singular question that I hope we’re all thinking of, which is this… “witches”? Seriously, what in the literal hell is freaking wrong with you lady, and why hasn’t anyone in your life bothered to stage an intervention regarding it yet? Last time I checked, witches and their works haven’t truly been a problem for the religious class of America since the days of Salem, and I also don’t recall them being a current cultural influence on the rest of us since the 1993 movie “Hocus Pocus”, and even then, that designation was played strictly for broad comic relief.

Given this information, I’m hard-pressed to think that people who ally themselves with the most powerful deity ever created by Man would have anything to fear from the one demographic more commonly depicted as a once a year decorative amusement, rather than as an organized army bent on usurping all that is good and pure in the known world, which to be brutally fair, says way more about organized religion than any woman who could supposedly fly by sitting on a broomstick.

That’s just my two cents of course, but I still have work to do, so let’s get right to it. Diving into this latest slice of insanity meringue using the previous method of going through it line by line, we’ll start with the batsh**t crazy opening sentence, which I feel, sets the tone perfectly.

 RDS: “When a witch shows up to tell us that “OWIES” are being healed down the street during services…”

 AB: Ok, there’s more than a few queries to be answered here- how do you know she’s a witch, exactly what “OWIES” are being “healed”, and where is this street on which miracles are taking place without anyone outside of you alone knowing? Did this “witch” show up looking like Margaret Hamilton in The Wizard of OZ, or as one of the suburban MILFs from The Witches of Eastwick?

And why would a servant of alleged evil bother to knock on a church door in the first place? Did she need to use the bathroom or borrow a cup of Holy Water for some dark reason? Not gonna lie, I am so curious in regards to this. And what precisely does Seawolf consider an “OWIE”? Cancer? Blindness? Diphtheria? Sunburn? Severe paper cuts? Rockin’ Pneumonia and the Boogie Woogie Flu? All good candidates, I’m sure.

Isn’t it weird though, that every time one of these Jesus simps talks about these dubious miracles being performed, they’re also oddly unable to provide any credible proof of it? No real witnesses, no cellphone videos, no official statements from doctors, nothing at all. Zip. Zilch. Nada. But we do have their word, so apparently, that’s all we need to accept these fantasies without any form of evidence at all, which seems to be their gold standard for claims like this. And you most definitely never hear about them going to the hospital using the power of Christ they alone can harness to “heal” the sick, but I’m sure that’s next on their to-do list.

Fortunately, they’re not still raising the dead like they were so fond of doing in the past, Because I for one, couldn’t even imagine how forced the conversation would be if you found yourself sitting next to that reanimated relative you always hated in church. It’d be awkward at best, I’d think.

 RDS: “…and the music is penetrating the walls of homes until even the old people are happy…

 AB: Sorry, but I have to call bullspit on this assertion. First, if your music is “penetrating” random homes, nobody inside, regardless of their age, is going to be happy, because outside of some specific hits by long-dead classical composers, 94% of religious music is the worst mélange of pure outright garbage. Because let’s be honest here, the term “Christian rock” is an oxymoron at best, save for the late 80’s Christian metal hair band Stryper, who, could actually indeed make the walls of Jericho come a tumblin’ down.

As the classic joke about them goes; “All other hair bands: Let’s write songs about girls and getting wasted! Stryper: Can you please hold our Bibles for an hour or two? We’ve got a wholesome show to go and play”. If you truly want to make everybody happy who lives around your church Ruth, lay off the God stuff, and host a local taco truck night. Those at least, I’d be more than happy to swallow.

 RDS: “… it’s time to go another night 🔥 REVIVAL AT 6:30PM! INTERCESSION AT 5:15PM”

 AB: No, it really isn’t, given the fact you’ve been ranting about witches and claiming miracles are happening before people’s eyes, but for whatever strange reason, are unable to correctly apply the technology of recordability. If anything, it’s a very clear indicator that you need a very long nap, aided by some or maybe even several, forms of psychotropic medication. And while I really don’t want to call attention to what I consider your truly unique grasp of sentence structure and its obvious love for exclamation points, shouldn’t the intercession be listed before the revival? I only say this because it comes first, just like how you’ve placed your imaginary friend before reality.

Not to mention, why does the intercession take forty-five minutes? How long does it take to either issue forth a group prayer or counsel somebody regarding their admission to a non-sin? This right here, is why church is so boring to most of us. Just call us sinners, drop the musical numbers, rail about topics that don’t affect our lives at all, pass the collection plate for your pastor to skim his take out of, and call it twenty minutes, so we can get home in time to crack a beer, eat some wings, and watch some football.

 Sigh…. But we’re not quite out of Crazytown just yet, because unfortunately, there’s yet one more tourist stop to drop in on, and I’d at least like to have a T-shirt from this place as a remainder as to why I never want to visit here again. Order number two is up, and just like the first slice, it’s probably way easier to digest if you grant yourself the gift of getting drunk first, as this time around she’s fire-emojied up and using all-caps!


 AB: Ruth? That’s called kidnapping, no matter who you are or what your glory status is. Unless of course, you’re Trump’s secret police squad.


AB: Well, this is just great. It’s not enough that I’ve been kidnapped, but now I have to listen to a self-righteous twat pimp out Jesus as if he were soap, who’s then going to make me go bobbing for Bibles. Look, I appreciate a wild time as much as the next guy, but until you get some Asian punk-rocker strippers wearing thigh-high boots and fishnet stockings to serve as your Deacons, I’m going to take a hard pass on your ever-so-gracious enticement.


AB: Oh, my sweet dear Ruth, no they’re not. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. And if a self-declared witch does show up at one of your bland as mayonnaise ego-stroking services, it’s probably based on the thinnest of hopes that there will be free cake. But despite my harsh assessments, I really don’t want there to be any true animosity between us. just because you strike me as someone that future university classes may discuss in what most might consider a teaching moment of sorts, so I suggest that you and I engage in a bonding exercise. Trust me-it’ll be fun.

Please repeat after me, follower of the mythical Nazarene; “There are no such things as Witches, at least not in the way Christians describe them, and when all is said and done, I’m going to go seek intensive therapy for both my paranoid and idiotic delusions regarding personal boogiemen, and also for my worship of a fictional sky-daddy zombie.” Admit it… don’t you feel so much better? Now we can go have a nice lunch, and I won’t have to feel at all embarrassed about being seen in public with you.


 AB: This may be the only correct thing you’ve said thus far, Ruth- it IS time to go another night, mainly because nobody wants to do jack on a Tuesday, and definitely not at 6:30 pm. Hell, they just got off work at 5, or worse- spent all day at home, lounging around in yoga pants, and now thanks to an obligation that’s pointless at best, the men will have to shave their plague beard, brush their teeth, and the women will be forced to do their hair, put on makeup, and find an outfit that’s suitable to listen to clueless diatribes in. All of this by the way, right after they prepare dinner and get their spawn ready, if they have any. Man, oh man… is that a fun way to spend your free time or what?

I’m opting for “what”, BTW.

Sigh… 19,781 words in, and I still haven’t even begun to scratch the clearcoat off this pile of lunacy, but as we are in the home stretch with the bases loaded, please bear with me just a little bit longer, won’t you? Now, if there’s one quality I might be able to admire about Seawolf, it’s that she’s quite the vocal cheerleader for the assortment of local businesses here in Silver City, and that’s something I think anyone imbued with even the smallest sense of hometown pride could get behind, given the importance of such to our ongoing economic stability.

It’s kind of a conundrum when you look at it from a commerce POV- I love that we’re not big enough to attract big-box stores, but every now and then, I would seriously kill a thousand Ewoks to have at least one good Greek restaurant and a Target, just saying. Oh, who am I kidding? I’d kill a thousand Ewoks regardless, just for the fact that those bug-eyed furry bastards creep me the hell out. That aside, Seawolf still manages somehow to even curdle the purest of hometown milk by once again, using her personal bully pulpit to whine pointlessly over the most trivial of issues.

Wait a minute, you say… “Don’t you make a living and a relaxing hobby out of complaining about everything under the sun?” Come to think of it, why yes… yes, I do. However, the crucial difference here is that I’m writing a blog on a website designed for the promotion of myself, and I’m not doing any of it while under the pretense of being a community booster. Here’s the deal- I live to complain. I love to bitch. I approach grousing with the dedication of an Olympic athlete. But even I know when and where to pick my battles, truth be told.

However, Seawolf seems to lack that particular trait when it comes to critique, and also thinks that her truly captive audience wants to hear it as well. I’m pretty sure they don’t, but it’s not like they have a range of options open to them, when it gets right down to it.

Granted, this isn’t anything new from our local Karen-in-grief, but even I would like to think she has to get sick and tired of playing victim every now and then. If she does, that feeling clearly hasn’t solidified just yet, as her own words prove. For the majority of us, if we get accidentally overcharged, or some poor minimum wage slave gets our order wrong, we typically just ask for a refund, and a replacement, as the odds are in favor of it being an honest mistake, versus an insidious plot by incompetent service to separate the trustingly naive public from their hard-earned buck-eighty-five, or in Seawolf’s case, twenty percent of whatever she paid for whatever she originally ordered.

The absolute horror of it all. Now, depending on where you’re eating out here, a gratuity may be automatically added to your order, as some of these establishments are only offering either curbside or drive-up service, due to the current pandemic. Realistically, mistakes can and will happen. Especially when you get someone who starts asking for substitutions in the drive-thru, which as we all know, is one of the most goddamn annoying things a customer can do. If you have to ask for more than one item to be pulled off your sandwich, either call ahead, go inside, or get a new f**king favorite, you damn human roadblock.

The other six cars waiting on your privileged ass behind you understand this concept, why in the heck don’t you? And the last time I checked, if you’re an actual functioning adult, you don’t “have to” do anything you don’t want to do in the first place. Oh, you poor soul, you “had” to eat a ham sandwich instead of what you wanted- I can only imagine how truly riveting the movie they’d make regarding your unfathomable experience would be. It literally took more time for you to pull out your phone or turn on your laptop to write out this complaint Ruth, than it would have taken for you to drag your butt out to your car, call the place en route, get your order corrected, and return home.

Because seriously, everything out here is within 20 minutes of your house, no matter where you live. It’s Silver City, not Dallas, for Pete’s sake, and if you had tried to guilt them just right, you might have also scored yourself a free cookie or a partial discount, the way any red-blooded American would have tried to. Next time, make a mental note to double-check your order before you leave, and if you won’t do that, then learn to cook, and free up a space in the drive thru for the rest of us who aren’t prone to throwing temper tantrums.

I can’t help but appreciate the failure  of subtlety in how she suggests who it is without directly saying who it is, because “business is tough for everyone right now”, but this act of supposed given grace of hers is just more of her disingenuous bullspit, since the description of said business limits the choices available. As noted, it’s a very small town, to the point where once, when our local movie theater had their credit card reader go offline, they asked everybody who wasn’t paying cash, to write down their name, so they could send them a reminder to pay after they got it back up and running, in a day or so.

Think about that for a second- my town literally runs on the Honor system at times, and Seawolf has the cojones to accuse a business of “deceit” because of an obviously honest mistake. Or maybe, just maybe, she’s stumbled upon an unknown international fraud ring, carving out its territory within the world of organized crime, using only its cabal of sandwich shops and their acquisition of vast wealth via ill-gotten tips.

What a cunning plan. If it’s the shop I think it is, then her slur would be doubly insulting, as it was one of many local businesses that gave back to the community through direct action at the beginning phase of the COVID-19 crisis, which is one of the many reasons I eat there regularly. That, and the food/service/owners are the freaking bomb. What’s truly hypocritical about Seawolf’s embarrassingly public and passive-aggressive bitch-post however, is this- she was also one of the most ardent supporters of Jalisco’s Café during their flagrant health code violation *spree, as recalled earlier in my narrative.

So, no matter how you view it, Seawolf is allegedly A-OK with a restaurant openly breaking the law by willingly disrespecting the state-mandated pandemic health protocol and hosting a cadre of racist morons known as the Cowboys for Trump, but being accidentally overcharged and eating an unwanted ham sandwich of her own volition deserves a public drubbing? What an interesting hill to die on. Her moral ambiguity aside, of course. Not to mention Ruth, if they have truly indeed “lost your business”, due to (in your eyes) their unforgivably grievous transgression, why not just come right out and name them anyway? I’m pretty sure I know why.

Maybe it isn’t your faux concern for it being “tough out there”, but more along the lines of that since this is such a small town, you don’t want to have one less place where you can stuff your ignorant maw without the credible worry of reproach? Plus, as a businesswoman yourself, you wouldn’t want to possibly alienate a potential real estate/insurance client, or any of their associates, now do you? Nah. It couldn’t possibly be that transparently simple, could it?

One further observation about the palace of “deceit” that Seawolf will most definitely find herself visiting yet again despite her protestations? If it’s the place I assume it to be, they once served me a BLT that was so damn good, I failed to notice until halfway through my eating it, that there were no “T’s” on the sandwich. Did I freak out? Did I go online and whine about my mislaid tomatoes? Of course, I didn’t, because I’m not three-years old, and as I said, mistakes happen. Plus, when I laughingly told them about it, I could totally see why Seawolf was so put out, for they not only offered up a sincere apology, they also offered to make me another sandwich.

Another sandwich?  With double the bacon? The nerve of those unbelievable bastards!

I’ll admit, it’s kind of hard not to feel some sympathy for Seawolf when you look at her situation with neutral eyes- she not only believes in the concept of witches existing as physical entities, but that a mythical sky-daddy-zombie is going to grant her a set of wings to fly among clouds for eternity as well. Let’s be brutally honest here. If we allow ourselves to be, that is.

If a total stranger came up to you and started spouting off about omnipotent beings using their “glory” to snatch people off the street as they demanded accounts from people following the law, that “OWIES” were being miraculously healed, as witches showed up en masse demanding entrance to their private parties, all while ranting about having to eat an unwanted ham sandwich, you’d locate whatever loose change you had in your pockets, chuck it at their head, and run for your goddamn life.

Feel free to acknowledge inarguably, that on this one at least, you know I’m 100% right. Persecution, or the imaginary threat of it, seems to be one of the most centralized themes percolating within Seawolf’s life, mainly where her faith is concerned, but as we shall see in this, yet even more aspects of a Rorschach test made flesh, this sense of malingering martyrdom extends into the what should be the most normalized aspect of her existence as well.

However, there’s an unexpected plot twist, because this time around, it’s not only the ungodly heathens (yours truly included) that are going after just the faith she uses as cover, they’re allegedly coming (yours truly NOT included) after her physical safety too, and trust me, her claim will only get stranger as we travel along this not even remotely mellow schtick road.

It was once told to me during one of those three-in-the-morning therapy sessions we’ve all had at least once in our lives, that no matter their outward attitude, everybody has some form of emotional baggage. Some have fanny-packs, others valises, quite a few possess steamer trunks, and a select few… well, they own the entire luggage shop to begin with.


I’m not suggesting Seawolf ranks as one of these outwardly bitchy as hell Baronesses of baggage, but if a bellboy could be singularly employed for the rest of their life, she’d be the most stable employer they could ever hope to find, in my humble opinion. Because this particular pit of paranoia is somewhat deeper than all her previous commentary combined, I’ll be breaking this down into as many palatable chunks as I can, because I’ve about had my fill of this gout-inducing Peyton Place passion play, and I’m afraid if I spend any more energy on it, I’ll be forced to dive once more into the breach, except this time, I’d remain on the bottom by choice, for allowing myself to think this sort of mind-set should be publicized past the pale. From her statement:

RDS: “I would like to clarify my actions within the past few weeks. One of the main reasons I decided to keep this page “non-political” was because of threats, hate messages, and even hate mail and other serious threats to my person.”

 AB: Before I snark, let me make one thing crystal clear- threats of physical violence are an unacceptable reaction to what somebody may say, may think, or may do, unless said actions being undertaken are themselves ironically, threatening physical violence. That behavior addressed, messages and other missives criticizing or even mocking you are not “threats”, and never have been.

A threat is defined as; “a statement of an intention to inflict pain, injury, damage, or other hostile action on someone in retribution for something done or not done.” Legally, unless the meaning of such actions or words falls under this purview, it does not meet the criteria, even if you think it should. Standard disagreement and dissension is not to be classified as a threat, for not only is it to be expected, it’s crucial to moving the metaphorical goalposts forward. And in most cases when I’ve seen a political post on this page Ruth, it either emanates from you or is a direct result of one of your postings, as I will allude to near the end of this tale. And as to the need to use the word “threats” twice? Well, that’s just bad grammar, but we can work on that.

 RDS: “Several people have been removed from this group for those very reasons, but people don’t know what happens behind the scenes on this page. I have been called every name in the book by people who have never met me or taken the time to know me. I have been pre judged because of my strong viewpoints and beliefs. I can deal with that. Everyone has a right to either like or dislike a person for whatever reason they choose. People who claim so much love and tolerance are the worst ones in this hate Ruth Seawolf campaign.”

AB: Wow. Not only is the Pot calling the Kettle black, it’s doing it without any sense of irony whatsoever. The hypocritical Christian who will talk about the love that Jesus offers openly, yet who called for law officials to be held to account before her mythical God, the Karen who bitched about her selfish spawn being denied entry to a private business for not following a common sense policy, the sanctimonious pro-lifer who thinks that her uninformed opinions should influence a strangers right to body autonomy, and the small business supporter who just had to go online and vaguebook publicly her horror at having to eat an undesired ham sandwich, is stunned by the fact that even though she’s never met them, some people by using nothing more substantial than her words and actions, have made a judgement call and decided that they really don’t like her.

I can’t for the life of me, even begin to wonder why that is. I do have a theory though, and it is this: how you decide to present yourself to the world at large, is how the denizens of it will naturally assume you must be. Whether that unique assessment is accurate or erroneous is truly irrelevant, if all you seemingly do is validate that public perception to no end. Some personal perspective, if I may be so open for a moment?

I do know what pure Hate is. I have been both its victim of it and at times, its begrudging advocate. And due to a long history of publicly voicing and writing about my point of view, I’ve experienced what can happen when a mob mentality takes hold of otherwise rational people. There’s a reason why I always have a weapon on me, and at times, will still look inside my car before I enter it, but it’s not built on a sense of paranoia, but on past interactions with those who were far less mentally stable than I.

But even given all this, I’ll have to call bullspit yet again on Seawolf’s abuse of over-dramatic license. With all due respect Ruth, you think you’re important or influential enough to be the target of an organized “campaign”? Good sociopathic God, get over yourself already, lady. I’m a raging narcissist, and even I, at the height of my infamy in Phoenix knew my detractors were only not organized, the majority wouldn’t know what to do if they found themselves alone with me.

And I’m 100% certain that if one of your so-called haters found themselves in the same room with you, they’d wonder aloud as to who allowed you to enter it in the first place. And as an aside, no… I really don’t think you could “deal with that”.

 RDS: “Again let them. I stand by what I believe and if that angers or scares others so be it. The threat now is that they are going to take every member from this page and start their own, one filled with love and tolerance, because of my actions two days ago. Let me explain. You can disagree with me all you want, you can hate me all you want, bash and belittle me all you want on other pages in the name of love and tolerance BUT WHEN YOU BRING IN MY FAMILY I WILL NOT TOLERATE IT!! This is exactly what this man did. Because I wouldn’t allow him and many who threatened me to take down the Police Rally post because in their eyes it is political, he got on here at 2am, thinking I wouldn’t see it on time to bash and belittle my husband! I will defend my family to no end! My husband doesn’t even have a Facebook page!”

AB: Ok. There’s some stuff to unpack here, and a good chunk of it should probably go see a mental healthcare professional, sooner than later, if its schedule allows for such downtime. I hardly think somebody creating a competing page constitutes any form of credible threat, and if all your followers jump off your metaphorical ship, I would take it as a supreme moment to engage in some somber self-reflection as to why they did, if anything. I will also yet again, point out that if you are receiving consistent threats to your physical safety that could be taken seriously, and you know exactly who is behind them, you should probably be in visible contact with the police, rather than waste your time griping about it on Facebook, or noting pointlessly that your husband isn’t even on the platform.

And given the incident rate in regards to acts of police brutality sadly occurring all over this country at the moment, that pro-cops posting was never going to be seen as anything but political- your willing naivete to its impact aside. You made a bad call, and you got tagged for it. That alone shouldn’t have devolved into threats regarding your family, but I seriously doubt that every response to your support of an unwarranted and tone-deaf assembly could be evaluated as a rallying battle cry for the mounting of your head on a pike.

RDS: “My husband has no fault here. So he can go cry on other pages, along with others on how I removed him/them from the group and never say the true reason. There is a reason why everyone that has been removed from this group has been removed, and trust me, its not because they don’t agree with me. There are many in the group now I do not agree with in any way, shape, or form, yet they remain. There are always two sides to a story, no one see the messages and threats I receive. For those who do know me personally, and choose to support me and this page, thank you. Take the time to truly know people, take the hate blinders off because of a religious or political stance you don’t see eye to eye on and really get to know someone! You may find you can actually get along with them! The snake was left inside my centerpiece in my backyard, five feet off the ground on top of my outdoor bar and the lovely postcard was mailed to my home as a fear tactic!! We are not dealing with nice people!! The back of the postcard is worse!!”

AB: Would you please all excuse me for a moment? [Turns off laptop, sits back, takes a deep breath, laughs ass off for five minutes, turns laptop back on, takes a few more seconds to compose himself as it boots up, and starts typing again…] I’m ever so sorry, I just needed some “me time” for a few minutes there, but I’m back now, and it’s all good. The more I read Ruth’s amateur victim statement, the more I understand why she rubs people in the same way that a sandpaper prophylactic might. I only say “might” because I met more than a few people back in my former hedonistic days who would actually look forward to that sort of thing.

I don’t judge- different pokes for different folks, and all that. But this? Oh, man, am I ever going to go off regarding this steaming pile of self-important and wholly paranoiac bunkum. First, let’s tackle the non-venomous, completely harmless, and native-to-this-area snake that was “left” in Seawolf’s yard as a directed threat in yet another manifested fever dream in which Seawolf is being targeted (in her own words) as part of an organized “hate Ruth Seawolf campaign”. To clarify, I could somewhat believe in the possibility that physical threats might have been made, I could believe in the fact that jeering and vulgar messages might have been sent, and if she had stated that acts of consistent and escalating vandalism upon her businesses, personal property and home were occurring, then even I would grudgingly admit that there may be something to the melodrama she’s been passing off as commentary.

I won’t dare speak for you, but if there was a noticeable groundswell of people in my community who openly hated me to the point that I was truly worried about me and my family’s personal safety, I’d have to take a moment to see if I was into something that was very right, or doing something very wrong in order to deserve it. And I say this from several personal experiences of such in regards to my writing career. Whereas I’ve always been open to debating or defending my POV if need be, Seawolf seems incapable of doing the same, unless she can have a convenient scapegoat lined up to take the well-deserved fall in her stead.

Most people faced with such a wave of alleged hateful critique, might give serious pause as to why this is, but it must be comforting to decide, and without proof no less, that you bear none of the responsibility for the production of such venom in the first place. However, I have to confess that the plot twist of atheistic liberals being the bad guys is a refreshing change of pace, given the fact that it seems most modern-day Christian pro-lifers are seemingly the ones who want you dead.

I only say that because of how they protest mask protocol, assistance programs for the poor, legal protections for the LGBTQ community, and support a sociopathic deity who at one point, slaughtered his own creations, because they weren’t kissing his ass enough for his taste. But this loony snake-as-a-threat fantasy is an overreach, even given Seawolf’s obsessive worship of a zombie who when not practicing the art of personal reanimation, does carpentry on the side. With no due respect Ruth, this isn’t a movie, and you are so not Jane Bond. If there does exist a person or group of persons who wish you harm, they’re going to besiege you with a rational act (so-called) of open violence, and not a plot point lifted straight out of 1973’s “Live and let Die”, or the 1979 epic cheese-fest known as “Moonraker”.

Ironically, both films starring the late Roger Moore. That’s a weird coinky-dink, if I do say so myself, and I do. I have to seriously doubt, as do more than a few others in this town, that some random and unknown person intent on skullduggery, trapped a native snake, bagged it, managed to find your house in the dead of night unnoticed by either your neighbors or their dogs, and using an aim possessed only by the great Sandy Koufax, accomplished their intent of landing said reptile squarely in the middle of your backyards’ hooch house. I like to consider myself at times as quite Machiavellian, but even I think this would be far too much work for the sake of making a simple point to a sad shell of a person whom I feel, is immune to logic very much in the same way that a mongoose is to cobra venom.

 And the fact you felt the need to openly brag about killing an innocent animal for no other reason than that it dared upset your suburban existence, just reinforces my personal belief that you’re a goddamn overly paranoid twit,

 With that off the formerly occupied-by-a-snake table, let’s discuss the anti-Trump postcard, whose message on the back you described as being “worse!!”. I suspect that this claim is not true in the slightest, because of your neglecting to describe with any detail of note, as to what the tone of the message was to begin with. This in turn, seems really out of character, given your need to broadcast the frequency with which you receive all of these alleged threats. So, what was written on the back that you found so distasteful?

I only ask, because out of the number of times that I’ve seen this exact same card posted online within various sub-political groups and threads by its unhappy recipients, the message it contains has been one of the following: acidic quotes by Shakespeare, sporadically clever word play, comments straight from the Fanta Fascist himself, and on occasion, an evaluation by the dispatcher of said card regarding the receivers perceived intelligence.

But still, never has there been a trace of vulgarity, incoherence, or more importantly- a perceptible threat. And that’s regardless of where the cards are being mailed from, be it California, New Mexico, Toronto, Chicago, or Kansas City, to name a few noted points of origin. Now, if the odds are in favor that nothing on the card might (or would) be considered a viable menace of any sort, why didn’t you just show or describe what was said? My current working theory is that if you did, successfully playing the sad victim of cruel fate yet again wouldn’t be at all possible for you to do, now would it?

Now, and not too surprisingly, Seawolf seemingly represents the demographic that really hates it when you deflate their pity-party balloons by the use of either a structured debate, or managing to weaponize their own postings against them, as I’ve been doing with hers throughout this screed.

Fortunately for me, the internet has not only a quirky sense of humor, but an excellent sense of recall as well. You know who really doesn’t, though? The truly disingenuous, that’s who. And as they are driven by a baseless narcissistic agenda, they tend to willingly forget that not everybody buys their side-show snake-oil wholesale. Where am I going with this, you ask? What would you say if I told you that not only do I know for a fact what the message on the card actually was, versus Seawolf’s highly inaccurate remembrance of it, I could prove so beyond any doubt?


I knew you would be, so before I show you how that trick is done, let’s say I suggest a gentleman’s wager first. The stakes are thus- if Seawolf’s depiction turns out to be true, I’ll pay for her next non-ham-based-take-out meal from a local restaurant that doesn’t dare think about practicing deceit in regards to tipping, and even if they do, I’ll be the one paying, so who cares? And if I emerge the victor, she only has to buy me either a 12-pack of Cinnamon Coke or a box of Ding Dongs. Either/or. I’m really not that picky. It’s more the principle of the thing, than anything else.

Here’s the funny bit- while she didn’t feel the need to post an image of the cards’ backside on her bully pulpit, using the false excuse that it was “worse!!”, she happily did so on the page of one of her fawning sycophants, where she probably assumed nobody would connect the dots of her disingenuity. But as is my habit, I did, and I tells ya, I love it when my scratching posts do all the heavy lifting for me. And as for the loyal little toady whom Seawolf publicly confided in? They’ may also be getting an inclusion in an upcoming piece as well, because I’m all about spreading the honey, if only to know how thrilled she’ll be to read it when I’m done with the writing of it.

Call me crazy, but I’m starting to think there’s going to be a lot of open dinner invitations on the schedule in the weeks ahead. So, let’s all have a good look at the “worse!!” message that Seawolf received. But I suggest you brace yourself first, for it contains what is considered by many Trumpeters and faux Christians alike to be one of the most virulent strategies that us agenda-driven Libtard Demorats always fall back on when corned by the Right’s use of propaganda, conspiracy theories, and Whataboutism.

I am naturally of course, referring to these annoying things that are known far and wide by those whose intellects still work as “undeniable facts”. And the main one that presents itself by this photo, is that Seawolf is allegedly either a cravenly dissembler, or far too oversensitive to the concept of Reality. Feel free to make your own decision.

Man, I am shaken to the core of my entire being by this photo. And I can totally understand why this probably caused Seawolf to start speaking in tongues. The chutzpah it took to actually tell the truth regarding the human toll this corrupt administration has taken upon America? Whomever presented these undeniable facts to Seawolf is clearly one black-hearted SOB, on loan from Hell itself. This deserved sarcastic swipe aside, the only way that anybody could dismissively deign this accurate missive as “worse!!”, is if they literally had their brain removed, and replaced with a spoiled cabbage.

How exactly, is this “worse!!”? Granted, every time you’re exposed to new information, it should force an ill-informed idea right out of your head, but it’s not like you’re going to lose your ability to do basic math, for Christ’s sakes. Heck, this message seems almost quaint, considering that the total number of dead have tripled since this card was mailed, and the infected among us now number in the millions. But please, don’t let your willing ignorance stop you from boarding your hovercraft of hypocrisy yet again Ruth. After all, who am I to interfere with the alleged falsehoods that seem to give your life a sense of purpose? And when it comes to eternally grave penalties for not telling the truth, I’m sure you’ll be fine. After all, it’s not like your mythical deity has a steadfast rule in place about that sort of thing, other than the 8th commandment that is, but don’t worry- I’m certain that there has to be some wiggle-room for one of his most special lambs.

Especially one who undeniably believes that we’re all born into sin because, and I say this with a straight face, several thousand years ago, a woman who was led astray by a talking snake, was cast out from a utopian garden paradise along with her partner, whose rib she was created from, no less- all because she ate an apple that had been calculatingly placed in her path by a supreme being, who because of his omnipotence, knew what was going to happen beforehand. And in an ironic twist, was also creatively responsible for the talking snake, which seems like a really bad design flaw to place inside the Matrix.

What a fortunate coincidence however, that if you apologize and beg forgiveness of the very same deity that gave you that sense of flawed free-will in the first place, you can be absolved of your transgressions, huh Ruth? I bet you get to utilize that loophole a lot more often than you’d care to admit in church. Hold the phone… now that I look at it, if this is what Seawolf truly does believe, then her alleged actions, self-absorbed and paranoid as they appear to be, start making a lot of sense.  Personally, they strike me as nonsensical at best, but isn’t that the nucleus of all brilliantly unintended comedy?

In closing out this ever-so-action-packed-if-not-wordy screed, I’d like to present for your perusal two last postings by Seawolf that I found truly amusing. If you’d allow me to do so, that is. Oh heck, you’ve come this far, you’ll come with me to the bitter end, I’m sure. The first, announced on the very same page where she posted her image of the “worse!!” postcards back, was the declaration that not only that she “knew’ what “idiot” had sent it,  but that she “was working with the police” no less, in regards to it.

In a weird twist, it turns out that her sycophantic BFF had also received a card as well, which just goes to prove that for all their talk about being joyously united in conservative solidarity, they really don’t like it when they’re included in the righteous critique of it. Call me a cynic, but I have serious doubts that any of the thirty-one police officers who serve and protect my 10k person town are approaching her concerns over the last three months with quite the same dogged fervor that San Francisco’s detective squad applied to the case of the Zodiac, but I digress. If anything, they probably play “whose turn is it to deal with her this time?” whenever she calls or walks in.

Could she have filed a police report? Sure. People do it every day, for a multitude of reasons, whether the need to do so is valid or not. But after all, this isn’t Chicago, and most definitely doesn’t play out as an episode of CSI, either. I’m not entirely sure what lengths Seawolf thinks our local constabularies will go to seek resolution without a credible pattern and imminent threat of violence attached. To start with, the areas covered by the “Rio Grande District” postmark are in all possibility, not even within their legal jurisdiction to pursue, and as most snail mail tends to be typically handled by multiple persons both in and out of the postal system, dusting for useful fingerprints would be about as beneficial as putting a nun in charge of arranging a bachelor party.

Now, unless being informed to the reality of things that are obvious to everyone else has become a major felony as of late, which it has not, I’m fairly confident that you’re just going to have to make peace with the fact that a notable chunk of your immediate community dislikes you. And it’s most likely displayed with the same level of enjoyment that Microsoft displays whenever Apple brings up *Zune, or in return, Bill Gates happens to reference Apple’s **Newton product line. That’s just my personal observation, of course. Take it as you wish, with however much salt you require to make it appetizing to you.
*[ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zune] **[ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apple_Newton]

As to the second and thankfully last sliver of paranoia I’m going to address, it seems that along with vague-booking her assertions of personal threats online, our misunderstood heroine also maintains an obsessive list of the people that she believes are working at direct odds against her, as evidenced by this screencap taken from the bully pulpit she’s claimed repeatedly to be “non-political”. This, as I’ve shown using her own media postings, is a laughable avowal, and only serves as further proof of Seawolf’s disingenuity to that which is obvious to the rest of us. It’s not having a different set of opinions that’s the origin of certain people’s loathing for you Ruth, it’s your combination of willful ignorance and the anxiously hypocritical grasping at consistently playing the victim that does. And while I have no idea if I’m already or about to be placed on that list, I’d be flattered just to be nominated for such an inclusive honorarium, if the rules allow for me to toot my own horn.

When one factors in Seawolf’s alleged need to publicly display her conceivably invented drama, I have no idea why it is that if she has amassed such a trove of credible proof in regards to all these “threats” she supposedly receives, how come she hasn’t guaranteed her future safety by naming the names, and letting those small-town political chips fall where they may? Heck, I do it all the time, and the euphoric rush I get from exposing the most ignorant who slither among us to daylight is undeniably worth the hate directed my way, and that without question.

So, I have to ask, why has there not been any intensive police outreach asking the general public for information? And in a town so small, where everyone knows what you bought at Walmart before you even tell them, why have none of these alleged threats become a topic of local gossip? If she’s not going to present this gleaned knowledge in order to nullify those who are “spewing hatred” as she puts it, then what is the motivation for her keeping such an ersatz enemies list in the first place? For reinforcing the justification of her speculative opinions, perhaps? And yes, I do see the irony in specifically directing criticism towards a person who’s been claiming that there’s an organized “campaign” of worrying threats targeting them, but for the love of Mike, give me a damn break already.

I have, and still do at times, experience threats that range from serious cyberattacks to outright attempts at physical intimidation, and even I don’t keep a list of who’s behind these cowardly coercions, unless I know that I can get a good story out of it. But no matter what fact-based tale I’ve inscribed here, it still can’t compete with the overly polished and thinner-than-veneer oeuvre that Seawolf has utilized thus far in order to buoy up her contradictory stance in regards to her version of reality as she sees it.

In her purest essence, she’s a supporter of the police and one would assume, in favor of the law and order they represent, yet she also believes that its morally permissible for businesses to openly violate crucial public health mandates, as she posts tediously that those in law enforcement implementing the very same be held “to account” in front of her mythical and wholly sociopathic, deity. She’s a “Christian” who feigns concern for the souls that are “lost”, but won’t acquiesce to wearing a mask to keep those souls from becoming migratory in the first place. She touts opening houses of worship as essential, but ignorantly does so at the cost of her fellow parishioners’ lives and health, and against the clearly defined will of the very Word she claims to follow.

She allegedly bears not a trace of false witness, yet derides the blinding accuracy of what many people say about her, and proudly sings the praises of a failed president who when not sitting atop his own mountain of lies, commits solo acts of fraud, racism, misogyny, xenophobia, and incompetent malignancy so stunningly vile that even her imaginary god does an hourly face-palm out of frustration. She lauds the virtues of the local business community, but who in her next breath, will slip into full-on Karen mode, as she vaguebooks decisively petty clues as to who it was that dared make an honest mistake where her inconvenience was concerned.

And last, but certainly not least, she’s the virtuous victim of a lurking cabal of organized haters who, rather than just come right out and openly challenge her face-to-face, opted to go instead for a tactical strategy that even the notorious James Bond adversary Ernst Stavro Blofeld would regard as far too fantastically ludicrous to be enacted. And keep in mind, his minions once thought that killing 007 on a cruise ship with a set of fiery shiskabobs, wielded by a no less than fabulously gay assassin by the name of Mr. Kidd, was going to work.

Sadly, and quite literally, Kidd becomes even more flaming in death, as Bond cleverly eliminates him using only a splash of Courvoisier on the flaming skewers, setting him ablaze. Although this is spectacularly visual, his expiry falls far short of his recently bereaved partner Mr. Wint, whom Bond slays with the aid of a bomb hidden in a laughably fake cake, which Bond then somehow improbably ties to Wint’s coat-tails, along with his hands. He then tosses the said rogue overboard, and the bomb explodes, killing him several feet above the water. This of course, attracts no true public interest or attention whatsoever, and yet, this scene is still far more believable than any of Seawolf’s declared dramady thus far.

But don’t worry about her in the long run. She’ll be fine, because she not only walks side by side with the most powerful being in all of Creation, she also believes that he’ll lovingly shield her from the challenges and harshness of whatever tribulations she may eventually have to face, because that’s what he does.

Now, if he could only have done something about that unwanted ham sandwich…

Man, that was a long one, was it not? I feel like I just ran a marathon. On my tongue. Over glass. While juggling a flaming cat. I may even have to take a break of sorts. But don’t fret, for there’s still more fun to come in the span ahead when I return, as I’ll be introducing you to a brand-new gaggle of truly colorful people whose unique point of view deserves no less than being shared with the world entire.

The upcoming screeds will feature a man who can obsessively post about “BLM”, but fails to understand what it represents and why it’s in no way a terrorist organization, despite his conviction that it exists solely to legitimize discrimination against the white race, and two woman who separate of each other, have combined racism, ignorance, a stunning lack of research, conspiracy theories, and unhinged paranoia into unintended comedy, and it’s sheer gold for the ages, let me tell you. 

 “A person’s character is shown through their actions in life, NOT where they sit on Sunday.” – Navonne Johns





Hatetriot Lames Pt.1 (Cowboy Flunkies)

“Patriotism means to stand by the country. It does not mean to stand by the president or any other public official, save exactly to the degree in which he himself stands by the country. It is patriotic to support him insofar as he efficiently serves the country. It is unpatriotic not to oppose him to the exact extent that by inefficiency or otherwise he fails in his duty to stand by the country. In either event, it is unpatriotic not to tell the truth, whether about the president or anyone else.” -Theodore Roosevelt

Hello Blogiteers!

What in the H-E- double hockey sticks is wrong with at least one-third of my fellow Americans these days? Did a group of normally anal-probing aliens decide out of career boredom to shake it up and just start randomly replacing their abductees brains with a cabbage to see what would happen? Because if this is not the case, then the Earth is as well and truly f**ked as Jenna Jameson was at her first film audition.

I’ve said it more in the last three years than I have ever said it at any other point in my life, but I cannot, by any stretch of the imagination, ever recall a previous time when I felt I was trapped inside an episode of the Twilight Zone as much as I do now. And not a cool “time enough at last” episode either, more like one of the ones they rarely rebroadcast because they were just so bad.

By way of example, “The Bard” (Season 4, Ep: 18) versus “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street” (Season 1, Ep: 22) and trust me, there’s quite the range there, if you really want to take the time to binge-watch during this, the Age of the Newest Apocalypse of Inconvenience.

Racism, intolerance, barbarism, selfishness, and a range of other personally borne sins were explored, judged, and in more than a few memorable cases, atoned for, all in one compact half-hour story, until Season Four, when the runtime of the episodes were increased to an hour. Noted as one of the best television shows ever produced, it ran from 1959 to 1064, and set the standard for tackling sensitive topics of the day, by cleverly cloaking its humanist point of view concerning said issues under the guise of purely escapist science fiction- something that later shows like Star Trek would not only independently emulate, but would occasionally improve upon, even if this slant could present as somewhat ham-fisted at times.

Considered highly innovative for its creative underpinning at the time, I honestly feel that if the show’s creator Rod Serling were still alive and tasked with originating the concept today, he’d be hard-pressed at best, to compete with what exists as our current ill-fated reality. A man who wrote what he did as both cautionary and celebratory tales in an effort to steer the course of the massed audience, he strived to highlight the depths to which Humanity could descend, and to inspire what heights it could hopefully rise, given the correct mixture of personal enlightenment, and inward musing.

Such contemplative thoughts to the betterment of mankind as of late, seem to have gleefully taken a regressive step backward, since the electing to the office of the Presidency, a man so morally corrupt, that even Satan himself is justly flummoxed as to what eternally punitive castigations should be applied in Hell to this reprobate once he hopefully if not indignantly, shuffles off this mighty coil and arrives there, red hat in hand.

I sort of feel bad for the ol’ Morningstar- after all, he’s wholly surrounded by lakes of fire, there’s random chains of ice laying around everywhere, there’s no central air conditioning, the Damned never stop screaming, and every single one of his computers are still running Windows XP and PhotoshopCS, which explains why all those memes posted by Trumptards always look so amateurish.

Throw in that he’s already putting up with listening to the bullshit justifications of Stalin, Hitler, and the co-author of the odiously insidious Disney earworm “Its A Small World After All” a truly diabolical fiend by the name of Robert B. Sherman,  but now he’ll have to deal with this gibbering jackass as well? It hardly seems fair, doesn’t it? Sure, he did try to overthrow Heaven, but if one looks at it objectively, it really all just boils down to an overreaction to a difference of opinion regarding management styles.

If one were so inclined to willingly bash in their own brains, their directed effort aided by the use of a brick wrapped within the transcript of one of Trump’s word-salad speeches, a critical assessment of the hostility generated by the inclusion of statistical data, known to us liberals as “facts”, during political debates with the strain of his virulently ill-informed base, could easily consume scores of pages in reputable psychological journals, if not years of the therapists’ free time, discussing the same.

As a set measure for testing both the confines of our patience, and discovering the boundaries of their ignorance, the latter is seemingly, thus far, limitless. And if I were to debate this with the populace at large, all I would have to do is open the Internet, blindly land in any open comment section, sit back, and effortlessly win the wagers I had placed regarding my theorem, as the ill-tempered rabble does all the heavy evidential lifting of as to why the Web should require the passage of a standardized IQ test before the great unread mass should be permitted to use it.

No matter what sites you may favor, regardless of whether it’s theme is political or not, you’re bound to run across (or metaphorically step in) a verbal dung heap left purposefully in your path by the kind of people you wouldn’t want to be stuck in an elevator with, much less attempt to debate. Mark Twain said it best when he noted; “Never argue with an idiot. They will drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.”

There was once a time when I was on a page that dealt with all things pie related, because not only do I love pastries, I also enjoy baking them, and no- I don’t care who knows it. As I was looking for a vegetable oil *substitute, a pro-Trump troll slithered in, and hijacked the previously civil thread with an unhinged harangue about abortion, which when viewed in retrospect as a Type 1 diabetic, just goes to prove the theory that an overconsumption of refined sugar does affect people in a variety of ways, and always for the better.

No matter what non-political topic is being conferred, the odds are excellent that eventually, a cult of personality disciple will slither in, regurgitate their vacuous vomit unbidden, and claim the victory as they flee from the consequences they’ve truly garnered, hiding within the shadows the cloak of internet anonymity without any form of introspective thought as to the numerous underlying reasons why their only purpose in life is to serve as a cautionary tale relayed via the ethereal glow of an I-Phone screen. *[In a bind, applesauce makes a good replacement- just a tip from me to you.]

For intellectually void cravens like these, this is a tale as old as time- the only difference being they’ve altered their venomous distribution networks from analog to digital, becoming more brazen in doing so, as the Interweb increased its impact on our cultural and political landscape.

Factor in the aforementioned lack of consequences, fueled by an authority figure so morally defective he not only engages in the same reprehensible activity, but issues routine calls to arms regarding such, and it’s easy to ascertain why this idiotic strain of viral purulence is as difficult to cauterize out of our collective soul, as it is to convince Nickelback that nobody anywhere on Earth had ever wanted them to record nine (!) albums, much less their first one.

And yes, I did have to Google that unforeseen discography, mainly because I’ve never felt the need to know anything about them, since it’s almost impossible for me to accept the truth that the same country that gave us The Guess Who, BTO, Joni Mitchell, Cowboy Junkies, April Wine, Gordon Lightfoot, The Band, K.D. Lang, Rufus Wainwright, Triumph, Rush, and of course, the inimitable Leonard Cohen, also produced them as well. After all, when a band sucks so strongly that it can easily remove chrome off a trailer hitch without seemingly having to take a breath, the end result is that it’s going to make Justin Bieber present as Neil F**king Young, hands down.

Sadly, the fecal-brained followers of our mango-tinted president persist in putting out their own virulent form of discord that much like the so-called music of Nickelback, nobody outside of their own ilk really wants to experience firsthand. Sure, I like conspiracy theories just as much as the next American, especially if it involves the possibility of Bigfoot dating the Loch Ness Monster, but even I have some hard-set limits as to what lunacy I’ll entertain in regards to my own amusement.

However, these slack-jaws will accept any offal that falls out of Trump’s mouth not only as untainted Gospel, but as sacred Scripture that demands a wide swath of dissemination, no matter how truly insane those concepts may be. By way of example, when I lived in Phoenix, a place where incoherent Conservatism breeds with a racist miasma resulting in the most half-baked of political ideologies ever known to a civilization, I’d run into these idiotic end-results of a shot-glass depth gene pool almost daily, if not hourly.

However, after my GF and I moved to our small town with a population of 10k in New Mexico, that number dropped to zero, almost overnight. It was almost six months before I even saw a Trump decal on a local car, and almost seven before I met a Gorgon disguised as a human supporter face-to-face in the most ironic of places, that being my local post office.

To say the interaction could be charitably described as detached logic meeting an as yet unnamed mental illness, is underselling the actuality of what occurred by miles, if not multiple galaxies.

Like most future stories that are to be eventually told over mixed drinks and a cheese platter, it started off fairly innocuous at first, if not pleasant overall. The small town I live just outside of these days is a laid-back, neighborly, almost Norman Rockwell kind of place, and after living for several decades in a rapidly gentrified city that wants so badly to look like Portland, but as of late, tends to emulate the intellectually dimmest part of Texas.

This relatively newest of locales is truly a refreshing sea change when it comes to the inner machination of setting parameters for how I function within my current lifestyle. But as with all things peaceful and in balance, eventually a red-hatted murder hornet is going to buy some cheap airline tickets, arrive in your quiet little town, and immediately set up shop within your rock garden of Zen, spoiling for a fight.

The truly pathetic part of this invasion of your serenity is the fact that the hornet doesn’t really care about winning the fight, or even surviving it, they just want to make you somehow pay for their fabricated transgressions based solely on a sense of paranoiac obliviousness and externalized delusions.

I, like many of you to be sure, have all heard the ceaseless braggadocio from modern-day conservatives about “owning the Libtards”, but their pride of such that they post obsessively all over Facebook doesn’t quite match up with what we all know is the truth, when one takes even the merest of looks at it.

For all of the incendiary bluster generated by these obsequious blowhards, the only thing that ever results from their infantile posturing is the gracious exhibition of truly unintentional comedy, much to the amusement of those of us who’s intellect still works the way Odin intended it to.

When they find themselves as they often do, “offended” by fellow Americans who dare embrace inclusion, multiculturalism, or ideological tolerance, they gather as an amoebic mass, infecting the various media platforms of YouTube, Instagram, 4Chan, etc., and do what comes naturally to their ignorant ilk- they embarrass themselves, as well as their families, along with whatever primordial cesspool they slithered out of in the first place.

If I had to give these mendacious morons praise for anything, it’s the fact that they serve so humbly as shining examples of what unintended comedy can achieve if one simply and willingly, disconnects their intellect from the scourge of obvious reality. To back up this assertion, let me relay the first of two tales in regards to interacting with persons whose family tree appears to have no branches.

To begin, I’ll dress the stage. The time; a little over a year and a half ago. The place: a normally placid community post office, located just outside the quietly serene town of Silver City, New Mexico. The cast: yours truly, a craggily good-looking if not modestly talented Creative, set against a bitter little troglodyte who when she unfolded her bat-wings and woke up that morning, decided to show all of us what a failure of the American public educational system looks like.

Now that the scene is set, let us get on with the show.

So, there I was in my local post office, a ruggedly good-looking paragon of human kindness, buying some stamps because I’m one of those people that believes in both personal letters along with making your creditors have to go to the bank, sharing a joke with my adorable postmistress, a lovely Latino woman who goes by the name of Julia.

 Now, I wish I remembered what the joke was, but if I was telling it, odds are it was a killer. Daddy knows how to work a room, and all that. As the pleasantries proceeded, we fell into our usual socially acceptable pre-established rut, which nine out of ten times, will involve some form of political discussion. At that time, the hot topic of the day was the confirmation hearing for Brett Kavanaugh, who is now a Supreme Court Justice for no other reason than the fact that he can chug an entire keg of Heineken as he’s simultaneously fellating Donald Trump.

Not gonna lie here, that IS a definitive skillset, no doubt about it- especially when you factor in that not only would he have to maintain adequate rhythmic suction on gear that’s been described as being almost inverted, but he’d also have to make sure he didn’t drop the keg while doing so. So what I’m saying here is despite my political leanings and the personally held belief that the guy is an outright scumbag, I’m going to have to give a high-five and buy him a drink,

When he’s sobered up, of course. So, I figure I’m off the hook until somewhere around March of 2024, give or take a lost weekend. Getting back on track, we were discussing said clusterf**k of a hearing, as she couldn’t watch or listen to it at work, due to the fact that she’s the embodiment of what you expect a dedicated mailperson to be, so as I had been watching it all morning, I was giving her the Cliff Notes detailing the blow by blows of what was going on.

Now, if you have seen it, describing it as a “clusterf**k” may actually be far too kind, as it could also be easily labeled as a “s**tstorm farce”, or as “a study in corrupted partisanship”, but in my personal estimation, it was akin to being forced to watch Lady Liberty receiving a back-seat finger-bang by an over-the-hill hooker wearing sandpaper gloves, stitched together using barbed wire.

Sure, there’s going to be an eventual payoff for all parties involved, but getting to that point is going to suck in a way you never thought would ever be possible in this country. The hearing itself though, was a truly glorious GOP train wreck- there was screaming. There were tantrums. There were accusatory side-eye glares as well as rude invectives and targeted slander. There were crocodile tears, scripted demonstrative breakdowns, and high school calendars making a rare cameo appearance.

And this was all broadcast live to an audience of millions around the world, who collectively, must have had the very same mass thought: Isn’t it supposed to be the women who are the emotional ones, and if so, why are these conservative men acting like they’re cosplaying the Dawn of Man scene from 2001: A Space Oddity?

I’ll speak only for myself here, but at one point I was wholly convinced that the U.S. representative for Ohio’s 4th congressional district Jim (“sex scandal whitewasher extraordinaire”) Jordan was going to start flinging his own poop at the very same television cameras he was overacting for, and then fashion a sleeping nest from the shredded campus police reports of the sexual abuse he allegedly covered up while serving as an assistant wrestling coach at Ohio State University.

It was truly one of the most bizarre things I’ve seen in my life, and that’s saying a lot, considering the tinted toddler failing as our president recently paid a visit to a medical equipment distribution facility in Allentown, PA, where once again, he didn’t wear a mask, and as usual, rambled on about topics ranging from PA’s Democratic Governor Tom Wolf, along with the media as always: “they are a disaster”, and added yet another scapegoat to his ever-growing list, that being “globalists”, a reference to the U.S. International Development Finance Corporation, (AKA: DFC) an agency that operates on a self-sustaining basis, meaning American taxpayers bear no cost, and which services over 160 countries worldwide by mobilizing private capital for new and expanding businesses.

Trumps hilariously caustic statement was his stereotypical mix of deflection and untruths: “You know what a globalist is? They want the globe to do well, but they don’t care about us.” There is literally so much clueless irony in that statement, that I’m pretty sure I could build my own Millennium Falcon using the core of it alone. But our Corona Cadet wasn’t done embarrassing himself and our country just yet, no-siree-Bob.

He then went on to say something that only an Adderall-fueled flesh suit would think to say out loud: “The moment this terrible virus reached our shores, each of you has worked relentlessly to get the vital supplies to our healthcare warriors, and they are warriors aren’t they, when you see them going into those hospitals and they’re putting the stuff that you deliver, but they’re wrapping themselves, and the doors are opening, and they’re going through the doors, and they’re not even ready to go through those doors, they probably shouldn’t, but they can’t get there fast enough, and they’re running into death just like soldiers run into bullets in a true sense, I see that with the doctors and the nurses and so many of the people that go into those hospitals, it’s incredible to see, it’s a beautiful thing to see.”

Yep… the craven who dodged the draft with phony bone spurs, who not only insulted a Gold Star Family but a war widow as well, and who can never insult anybody to their face if he’s denied access to Twitter, thinks that people running into bullets is a “beautiful thing to see.” Yep. Not f**king nuts at all. Stable genius. Best brain. Best words. Best looking. Doesn’t need advisors. Hires only the best people, as we all know.

And Kavanaugh? What a tasty draft pick- an alleged rapist, most definitely a blackout drinker, and whose main qualification is that he’s fully owned lock, stock and kegerator, by Trump, who is attempting to fill key positions in the US Government with lackeys, bootlickers, and morally adrift loyalists, in an effort to control the consequences he most likely will be facing due to his corruption and treasonous behavior thus far.

He’s not running for re-election; he’s desperately running for his life, and it’s as obvious as his incompetence. So, there I was, much to the amusement of my postmistress, acting out that morning’s histrionics of the GOP’s urgently deflecting representatives, when from the side doors,in  waddles a squat land hag whose face was set in a countenance that the cool kids might sympathetically describe as one that had tried unsuccessfully and with great effort, to french kiss a concrete mixer that was still in motion.

Aesthetically jarring to be sure, but the first impression that struck home was that I wasn’t aware that there was such a thing as a truly angry Ewok. I guess what they say is true, you really do learn something new every day, whether it’s willingly, or inadvertently inflicted upon you.

Stepping aside so as to let this seething Jawa access the service counter to mail her rather large pile of outgoing correspondence, I closed off my previously private conversation with a breezy aside, saying something along the lines of “It must be so embarrassing these days to be a Republican, don’tcha think?

This assessment by the way, I feel is more than valid, considering the GOP went from Eisenhower humbly saying; “If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt, it is mine alone.”, to a cravenly Great and Terrible Orange, mewling; “I take no responsibility.”.

Hearing my remark, this far-angrier-discount Deborah Lee Carrington whirls around, her face contorted with rage as if she had just witnessed a group of African-Americans enjoying themselves, and spat out; “WELL, IT SURE BEATS BEING A BABY KILLER!!!!”, and storms out, her tiny fists balled, her back ramrod straight, which I feel was more due to the stick up her ass, versus any predilection for good posture. *

BTW, Debbie Lee Carrington, was regarded as a very talented little person actress & stuntwoman, and is best known for her scene-stealing performance as the 3’10” lingerie-clad courtesan Thumbelina, in the 1990’s Arnold Schwarzenegger sci-fi film “Total Recall.” During a pivotal scene, Thumbelina shivs one of the movie’s deserving villains [in the crotch!] with a previously secreted knife, jumps up on the bar with a sub-machine gun, and starts mowing down the bad guys, Chicago-typewriter style. And it is BAD-ASS..

Now, as you can imagine, I was stunned into a very rare moment of silence, and not only because her slur came seemingly out of the never-never, but because it’s been at least a good twenty years since I made that kindergarten themed snuff film. See? that’s the real problem with the internet- it brings your past to the immediate future under a very bright light.

All horrible kidding aside, I was not expecting that, or anything close to it, outside of a town where I get asked regularly not only if my chakras are in alignment, but if I need any weed as well, at least twice a day. And in most cases, usually by the same person. Here’s a heads up- I would never kill a baby, but if it had some top-notch candy and refused to share it, odds are pretty good I might smack it around a little.

Speaking as someone who is rarely at a loss for words, I was at that time, doing a dead-on impression of Ron Perlman as “One” from the seminal movie City of Lost Children, and in so many words, it was viciously infuriating.

As she retreated, my brain was working at warp speed to deliver the savage retort my brain was formulating directly to my vocal cords, but due to being caught with my Adamantium claws retracted, all I could do instead of responding with either “Says the woman who never had her egg carton cracked open in the first place”, or “Spoken like someone whose uterus has the original price sticker still attached”, was stand there, gasping like a German out of sauerkraut.

There once was a bit on The Simpsons where Marge says: “How come you never think of the good insults until it’s too late? “Shut up Betty!!” Yeah… that would have been sweet.” It’s one of those private jokes my GF and I occasionally share, and while it never fails to crack me up, I never once thought I’d actually experience it in situ for myself.

Glancing through the front window of the post office as I stewed in my own snark, I observe that her truck has a Trump bumper sticker on it. Of course, it would. Hold on and scratch that, as I need to modify that statement. While there was only one sticker design affixed to her truck, there were at least THIRTY individual stickers covering the tailgate, the fenders, and some had even been trimmed out for the brake lights.

Does anybody remember the good old days when if somebody joined a cult, they had the social grace to shave their head, dress in robes, and play a tambourine, so the rest of us had the option when we saw them coming from a mile away to decide whether or not to avoid them?

Sigh… good times. Good times.

Damn. That’s a lot to unpack right there, but maybe I should give her credit for putting their mental illness out there for everyone to see. After all, it also serves as a warning to the rest of us that maybe getting to know all your neighbors isn’t always the best of ideas to begin with.

Hilariously or not, depending on your POV, it turns out that this mass of moronicness is a neighbor of mine just two blocks over, so I’ve been making it a point to drive past her house every time I leave my small community, blasting *Stevie Wonder’s “Keep Moving Forward” at ear-splitting volume. And let me tell you, I’m starting to think that my melodious meanderings are softening up her attitude a little, as she always makes sure to rush out and give my car a free wash as I cruise on by- is that thoughtful or what?

But as I depicted earlier, these sorts of loathsome interactions are few and far between where I live, as most of the town seem to be well set inside the ethically decorated walls of Liberalism, thank Odin. Sure, the occasional red-hat does pop up, but it usually reads the room correctly, and manages to keep its inanity to itself, at the very worst… or so I thought.

As previously ascribed, I live in a very small town, three hours from anywhere or anything metropolitan. Think Smallville versus Gotham. And because the people here unlike me, have both good manners and a sense of charitable sympathy, it’s also the kind of place where Kevin Sorbo might actually be regarded both as a celebrity, or an actor by some, despite all evidence to the contrary. However, there are scores of even smaller towns on the outlier here, and in more than a few of them, reside some of the most intellectually incoherent people I’ve ever run across, hands down.

I don’t want to imply in any way, shape or form that just because someone lives in a small rural community that they’re an inbred rube, but JFC, some of these Trumpeters could make the folks in the Dukes of Hazzard look like the denizens of Masterpiece Theatre by way of comparison.

Despite all that, and I know I’ve said it numerous times, but I really do love living here, and if I were to go one acidly harsh step further, it can also be noted that when it gets right down to it, that minus a few people, restaurants, and a very specifically particular list of art spaces & galleries, I don’t really miss my old bitching grounds of Phoenix much at all. I did what I needed to do, and it was way past time for me pack up the ol’ claws and move on to other challenges.

However? While I don’t miss the high-school mentality to be found among certain drama llamas within the PHX Art Scene, I do miss one vital component that always kept me going- that being the various adversaries that were to be found lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce upon the first sign of weakness.

Depending on whatever metaphorical *bolgia I found myself in, there was sure to be at least three to five people within it who despised everything about me, or more specifically, my so-called saturnally venomous POV. *[A division of the eighth circle of Hell, Malebolge, in Dante’s Divine Comedy. Think of what it would be like to be eternally trapped in a hotel room in New Jersey with Gilbert Gottfried, and you’ll be on the right track.]

For musicians, it was my undying love for ABBA that set them off, for dancers, my belief that Twyla Tharp was over-rated, for sculptors, the fact that I still think Richard Serra was and is, a talentless hack, and when it comes to the visual arts, don’t even get me started on how much I truly loathe Picasso and adore the late Patrick Nagel. Seriously, can someone please logically explain to me why this piece of garbage by Pablo Picasso is “worth” 69.4 million…And this gloriously ever so 80’s piece by the late Patrick Nagel, is openly dismissed as the lamest of POP?
Say what you will about beauty being in the eye of the beholder and all that, but a Picasso woman wouldn’t be able to pick up a blind frat-boy at last call, if her life depended on it. And when it comes to my love for Ding Dongs and the pink version of Snoballs, if you even dare mention Tastykakes in my presence, I will cut you like a bitch using a frozen and sharpened Little Debbie Nutty Buddy to do it. Just a warning. Everybody gets one.

Granted, while I do view confrontation very much in the same way that a small child looks forward to Christmas, I also expect a worthy nemesis when I find myself neck-deep in the thick of battle. As I’ve opined before: “They say you judge your success by your enemies… in which case, I definitely need some better enemies.”

Sadly, I have to state that while I’ve been here almost two years, overall, I haven’t really accumulated the pile of valid adversaries that someone like myself requires as a reason to get up in the morning. But I do think that’s about to change, as I’ve recently discovered a fully stocked enclave of crazy out here in the wilds of what is a customarily serene dreamland, and I couldn’t be happier. Imagine- a whole new dim-witted demographic for me to vex and taunt openly.

Christmas indeed came early this year boys and girls, and it was charitable enough to not only arrive baring gifts, but to bring a metaphorical cadre of thigh-booted Asian strippers in tow as well.

If there’s one thing I certainly relish more than a perfectly chilled plate of Ding-Dongs, it’s eating the withered souls of the intellectually devoid and wholly hypocritical. It’s both a hobby and a passion, which I’ve always felt, is the truest epitome of what a perfect balance should be. I recently created a new page on my main website called “Reich N’ Roll” where I post my Facebook interactions with these lauded graduates of Trump University, and it’s been ever so much fun, if not ever so easy, to compile the content for it.

 I really have to do nothing more than open up my web browser, and the cornucopia of idiocy flows like the wine at a Hemingway family reunion, in the sense that it devastatingly showcases both the true character and the willful ignorance of my fellow so-called patriotic Americans.  And in an ironic twist that makes me unsure as to whether to laugh or cry, it’s “hits’ are outranking the rest of my galleries by an astounding ratio of 8 to 1.

I think what this tells me is that I have a far more successful career ahead of me as an internet pundit, then I ever will have as a visual artist. Others might find that spiritually crushing, I just look at it as a means to saving tons of money on art supplies in the long run. Speaking of things getting crushed, common sense also appears to be the latest casualty in the never-ending battle against the horde of screeching harpies known far and wide as “Karens” or the male equivalent known as “Kevins”, in a seemingly never-ending battle royal for our country’s soul.

Once a crucial cornerstone of our country, it has of late, been pulverized under the relentless onslaught of these over-privileged white women and men demanding “rights” that they’ve never had and could never lose in the first place. However, if they had ever truly been possessors of these imaginary entitlements, it’s a sure-fire guarantee that they’d also make damn sure that those they erroneously consider beneath them wouldn’t be allowed to receive them in the first place.

This demographic would include naturally, the poor of every race including their own, the service class, the LGBTQ community, non-Christians, atheists, and of course… anybody who isn’t beige in both skin tone and personality. There are numerous variants within this definition of course, but as a rule of thumb, the double K’s are usually the type of people whom if the Nazis were still a policy-making power-block, would be the first ones in line to rat out their Jewish neighbors down the street for free.
Yeah… I said it, and no- an apology (yet again) is not forthcoming. These people play the victim so much, I’m amazed they don’t have their own limited-run series on TNT: “Tonight on Special Karens Unit- the squad has to investigate the trauma Karen suffers when she has to accept that there are other people on the planet.”

 I’d give special guest star Ice-T all of five minutes before he’d pimp-slap one of these feckless Botox dipped bitches upside their empty heads, and tell them to either step-up or step off. Or whatever he’d say. I’m not from Newark, so he’d know better than I, which way to go with it.  

Sadly however, it seems the double K’s out where I now live have grown tired of screeching incessantly about their being minorly inconvenienced, and decided to get into the restaurant business, and are openly breaking the law, using the paper-thin rationalization of personal “civil rights” to do it. What exactly am I talking about, you ask?

Well, up until about two weeks ago, the majority of the restaurants in my small town (if they were open) were doing phone-in for takeout orders only. No in-person dining was allowed due to state restrictions, and most people here just took it as one more minor thing we all needed to do to keep our fellow citizens safe.

But as is usual with the double K clan, being incommoded is regarded as no less than outright tyranny, parallel to being forcibly incarcerated within a prisoner of war camp. If there is one unintentional highlight we can collectively take from this pandemic, it’s that we now all know exactly which people have never had the word “no” said to them in their entire life.

With that as a lead-in, the place I’m referring to is a locally-owned Mexican food joint out here called Jalisco’s Café. I’ve eaten there quite a lot in the past, as lard, refried beans, and green chile have been alleged to constitute at least 60% of my blood, but no longer, due both to their willful ignorance and smattering of racism.

And to explain what I just stated, I’ll be using some visual aids. Sorry- they’ll be photos, not hand-puppets doing inappropriate things. Maybe next time. First, this establishment weeks before the state-sanctioned 50% occupancy restrictions were initiated, allowed sit-in dining, an action that even with enforced social distancing, was breaking established health code law at the time, no matter what these internet constitutionalists like to claim.

This of course, led to the justified suspension of their food handler permit, yet it continued to do business as normal, because… America, F**K YEAH, I guess?
See? That’s an official document and everything pasted on their front door. You can tell how serious it is by all the legalese and signatures and stuff. Plus, when you see any kind of seal or logo, you know the people behind it aren’t f**king around. They paid cash for that graphic designer, and they’re going to get their money’s worth, believe you me. Second, along with the health code violation, there was also “medical documentation” posted in the front windows as an attempt to rationalize as to why this business should be allowed to violate well-established health protocols.

So, where did he get this so-called medical knowledge from, you ask? The Centers for Disease Control (AKA; the CDC) most certainly? Nope. Ok, maybe Michael Mesa, the owner of Jalisco’s, asked the NM State Health Department for this critical information so that he could inform his customers using the most up-to-date research that they could offer him? I’m afraid not.

Wait, you’re right- I totally forgot the local angle at play here, so he most definitely decided to ask our community hospital or possibly even his personal doctor, to assist in his campaign to inform his clientele of what was really going on.

Oh… he didn’t do that either? Well, who did he ask then, one of his busboys? I’m sorry- that was a ridiculous supposition, as well as being somewhat insulting. He naturally of course, got his information off the Internet, just like any rational person who’s trying to make sure that the information they present isn’t biased or inaccurate at all.

Hey, whatd’ya know, this online Disney quiz says not only is my moon in retrograde, but that my spirit animal is actually Shere Khan from the Jungle Book. I knew it! The only problem with this, other than the fact that shockingly, internet-discovered information isn’t worth the pixels it consumes 90% of the time, is who the source quoted was, that being one Dr Russell Blaylock, a physician and author who is an active voice within the junk science community.

Way to use that search algorithm, kids!

Known for coining the truly catchy phrase ”excitotoxins”, a term that’s become quite popular with modern-day snake oil salesmen, he allegedly believes that cancer-causing nanoparticles have been intentionally released into the atmosphere via “chemtrails” as part of a collaborative government / corporate plot.

Derided for his maliciously inept and wholly baseless declarations by no less than Skeptic’s Dictionary and QuackWatch, who labeled him as an anti-vaxxer, he also extensively markets his own line of uncorroborated “Brain Repair Formula” supplements, which quite correctly earned him the honor of being christened the “quack of the day” by The Vaccine Conspiracy Theorist.

This unethical promotion extends to other so-called “remedies” that he endlessly touts, which are based on his claims alone that certain neurological disorders stem from the consumption of aspartame, MSG and other additives in our food supply- which naturally of course, only his products can possibly cure or treat. For his part, he publicly sanctions opinions that are drastically inconsistent with established scientific agreement, such as that the H1N1 influenza (swine flu) vaccine conveys a higher jeopardy to one’s health than the disease itself, and that any dose of GMOs is too much.

Blaylock has also advised that despite the research by McGill University’s Joe Schwarcz, which shows no recognized evidence to bolster his claims, that antioxidants, fish oil, and vitamin D, efficaciously steel one against contracting the flu.

However, that’s not even the deepest level of irrationality that he endeavors to reach, for not only has he branded the United States medical structure as wholly ‘collectivist’ , all while promoting a theorem that health-care reform efforts undertaken by former President Obama were instigated by a cabal that attempted (unsuccessfully) to enact euthanasia, a truly “WTF?!?” position, by any stretch.

And if that still wasn’t enough, he’s espoused an equally unhinged conspiracy theory that the former Soviet Union tried to spread its version of collectivism by clandestinely introducing numerous sexually transmitted diseases into the United States, along with illegal drugs. Because as we all know here in the West, we didn’t have either of those issues until those Red bastards took an interest. This pile of flaming debunked inanity is fueled by Blaylocks so-called books, his websites, and his self-founded institutes, known as Theoretical Neuroscience Research, and Advanced Nutritional Research, respectively.

Not to be overshadowed by these foundational stones, he has also been a regular guest on the Christian Broadcasting Network, stereotypically appearing on the talk show of the hilariously demented grifter and full-time Jesus pimp, televangelist Pat Robertson, who once seriously stated: “The feminist agenda is not about equal rights for women. It is about a socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.“.

My personal favorite media appearances hands down though, are the habitual ones he makes on Infowars.com, with host Alex (They’re turning the frogs gay!!!) Jones. Can you envision the level of nutbar those two must reach together? It would be as if Andy Kaufman just before he died, set loose a previously unknown army of his clones upon the world in his last great act of performance art. And to close off this assessment of Jalisco Cafés resident Doctor of Density, I will leave you with this declaration, posted prominently in the windows of the restaurant:
As an honest aside, I truly loved science in school, and still do, as it explains almost everything. Sure, I still have no answer as to why hot dogs and hot dog buns are still legally allowed to be packaged in different quantities, but I was never a science nerd, and I never was the type who claimed I was. But even given the limited grasp I possess on how the Universe works, even I know deep down that this supposition is pure unadulterated bullspit of the highest caliber.

Seriously- this is the guy that Mesa willingly listened to when he chose his metaphorical hill to die on? I can only surmise that when Mesa looks back upon this severe miscalculation regarding what was his once-lauded business, I’m sure his inner theoretical conversation with the spirit of Baylock and the others of his ilk would bring to mind tis seminal quote from the 1978 film Animal House: “Flounder, you can’t spend your whole life worrying about your mistakes! You f**ked up. You trusted us!

Here’s the truth of the matter, Mikey- I unreservedly support local business 100%. In fact, it’s one of the main reasons why I love this community so damn much. If this was a case of just opening for the sake of your business by doing take-out orders only, and your employees were arduously following the established safety protocols as they are currently doing, I would promote you to the fullest of my ability.

But you didn’t do that. You opened up for sit-in dining long before the regulations were relaxed, a potential health risk of epic idiocy and illegality, and also engaged in an act of completely unnecessary racism by offering this vile sign for public absorption:
I just have to ask… what in God’s mythical name is wrong with you? “Wuhan” Luhan? I’m not sure what I should be angrier about- your childish as hell riposte, the deliberate misspelling of our governor’s name (it’s “Lujan”, actually) your arrogance, or your f**ked up slur. You don’t like our Governors policies regarding the safety of your fellow citizens, then get off your ass and go vote her out of office

Believe me, I do get that side of the coin you’re trying to hide behind, as after all, you do have a business, you’re invested, and hopefully, you’re also thinking of your employees as well, because you have integrity. I can respect that, coming from, and remaining so, proud blue-collar stock.

What I, and many others in this town can’t understand is your need to merge an ignorant Trumpism with a pointless act of defiance. You violated the law, It’s just that simple. Your rights aren’t, and never were, in jeopardy for any reason, and as much as I love your tacos, which are the bomb, I’m not going to let you off the hook just because your green chile sauce is a certified freaking miracle.

On top of picking the wrong allies [more on that in a bit] for your cause Mike, you also most certainly chose the wrong way to express your discontent with policies you wrongly think are unconstitutional. *Spoiler: they’re not.

Reaching back into the history of such, an early verdict to ponder is the end result that emanated from the U.S. Supreme Court regarding the power of the State to enforce quarantine. Arising from a 1824 case that is branded in history as Gibbons v. Ogden, it was considered a momentous decision regarding the application of federal authority in relation to commerce on the interstate waters. The notable Chief Justice John Marshall, elucidated that one of the powers the state possessed was the power to quarantine.

At the time, this judgement was not seen as contentious; for as Marshall stated, the power to quarantine was seen as an authoritative stance “flowing from the acknowledged power of a State to provide for the health of its citizens.” In addition, there was another legal benchmark that was about to be set, resulting from a case out of Louisiana. titled Compagnie Francaise de Navigation a Vapeur v. Louisiana Board of Health.

Louisiana over the course of two summers, had been plagued by outbreaks of the mosquito-borne Yellow Fever, which when once carried over to humans, scourged the state. Naturally, this led to Louisiana taking a fairly aggressive attitude towards quarantining both the affected and the healthy alike.

The directive that the judiciary had to contemplate stated that: “hereafter in the case of any town, city, or parish of Louisiana being declared in quarantine, no body or bodies of people, immigrants, soldiers, or others shall be allowed to enter said town, city, or parish so long as said quarantine shall exist.”

A state-enforced position that isn’t too dissimilar to some of the legal edicts that have triggered outlandish displays from some of the more privileged double K clan covidiots over the past few months. By a split vote of 7-2, the court upheld Louisiana’s stance as constitutional, despite a legal challenge posed by a group of travelers who had endeavored to enter Louisiana after their arrival on a ship hailing from Italy.

Despite the certainty of there being no indication of disease within, the court ruled in favor of the state’s reasoning that it was guilty of nothing more than trying to shelter its citizens, and therefore, Louisiana’s actions to do so did not violate the Constitution.

So, please stop pretending you’ve been cast in the role of a modern-day Thomas Jefferson, when you’re more akin to the infamous Ephialtes of Trachis by willingly presenting yourselves and others to a risk that nobody deserves.

The historical context: As described by Herodotus the historian, Ephialtes betrayed the Greeks enmeshed in battle at Thermopylae. It was there the outnumbered Greeks defended their position within an alleged to be impenetrable pass situated between the Malian Gulf and an elevation to the West. Herodotus’ depiction of the event states that Ephialtes informed the formidable Persian forces of a rudimentary and unknown path that presented the advantage of being behind the up until then, impermeable Greek bottleneck.

Once the Persians implemented this newfound knowledge, the Greeks were inevitably slaughtered wholesale. In an ironic twist, Ephialtes never received his anticipated reward, due to the Persians defeat at the Battle of Salamis. Fleeing to Thessaly, he discovered to his horror that the Amphictyons at Pylae was offering a recompense for his death.

According to the account scribed by Herodotus, his end came at the hands of Athenades of Trachis for an seemingly unconnected. However, the Spartans rewarded Athenades for his deed, so the moral here boys and girls, is not to be an untrustworthy dick, lest ye meet you end going full commando in off-the-rack toga.

I’m just saying that If you hate wearing a mask, you’re definitely not going to enjoy the experience of having a ventilator tube jammed down your throat, and you’re really going to despise the awkward conversation foisted upon you at the funeral of someone you possibly helped kill.

Now I do understand that my assessment may come off as a bit caustic, but suck it up, you bitter little buttercups- I’m done playing with you, and I’m most certainly done with tolerating your selfishness, your imaginary right to privilege, and your insane comparisons of living under and within a fascist paradigm, just because you’ve been courteously asked to not be an egocentric jackass for a few minutes.

Mask it or casket. It really is that simple.

If the experts are correct about using masks and following other safety protocols, then we can collectively put brakes on this runaway plague. And if they’re wrong, well, then we all got to look like modern day cowboys for a few weeks, or in my case- a minor character understudy from Mortal Kombat.

You know, even after this is all over, I may stay dedicated to this look for a while, as it makes people get the hell out of my way, and I’m not going to lie, I am totally digging that. What these snowflake double K’s are ignoring, almost on purpose it seems, is that these public safety measures are at worst, a temporary inconvenience.

A rapidly expanding pandemic is literally the only justified time that these extraordinary measures must be enacted, to curb or in this case flatten, the transmission of an exceedingly infectious and possibly lethal disease. Separating the sick from the healthy is a key component in stopping the rampant infection, and whether the screaming for “liberation” loonies want to believe it or not, the authorities are acting in the best interest of their citizenry.

This level of self-absorption naturally results in asinine declarations that some form of illegal discrimination is taking place against them:Yep… why should you follow common sense safety protocol, if other people aren’t? That totally justifies putting your fellow humans at risk, does it not? Come to think of it, why should any of us follow any of the so-called rules society places upon us? After all, we’re born naked, so there really should be no reason as to why I can’t do my regular grocery shopping in the nude, am I right?

These by the way, are the very same people who tell us that if we’re “so afraid” we should “just stay home”, but are also the same ones who have a meltdown when anyone dares reminds them, that their convenience isn’t a priority. On a side note, the person behind this screenshotted density has piqued my interest, due to similar comments such as this and other posts regarding their political point of view, so I’ll be dealing with them in the upcoming continuation of this screed.

Now, is there a firmly set date as to when they can definitively state that this pandemic will have finally and safely subsided? Currently there is not, and most likely won’t be until all the data is researched, compiled, debated, rechecked, debated again, and finally tallied and given to the general public.

But despite what all the anti-government covidiots like to screech, when the danger to the populace’s health is no longer a viable threat, the restrictions in regards to it will fade to no more than a talking point, to be argued about over family dinners for years to come. And if they don’t, then and only then, should we all go dust off our tri-corn hats and muskets. The end goal of all this of course, will be the hopes of returning these Karens back to their natural environment, demanding to see the manager, because the barista forgot to add soy-milk to their cappuccino.

Speaking of the Klan of Karens, you may have found yourself curious as to how they’re spending all their free time, since their stereotypical routine of screaming at underpaid wage warriors, and calling the cops on black people for doing white people things, has found itself severely curtailed as of late due to the aforementioned pandemic.
So, what do you do if you’re an unoccupied princess of privilege, and you live in a small town like mine? Obviously, you take to the internet and in all-caps no less, complain about being nicely asked to not be a selfish child for the five and a half minutes you’re inside the Albertsons, wrongly claiming that your civil rights are being violated.

Putting aside your normal xenophobic “the law is the law” meme postings on your Facebook, you then publicly throw your support behind a business that’s not only openly breaking the law, but courting some of the worst examples of hypocritical humanity to back them up as they do so.

Why? Well, it’s all in order to “own” those pesky “Libtards”, who are so callously asking for you to take care of yourself and the others around you. Next thing you know, liberals will be demanding that you don’t put a plugged-in toaster into the bathtub with your kids.

What monkey-masturbating mother-f**kers.

There’s an old maxim, that states; “When you hang out in the wrong places with the wrong people, you will soon do wrong things”, and that’s solid and practical advice, no matter what situation you may find yourself in, but in relation to this one? Most definitely. So, who are these allies that have circled their wagons around this den of delicious density?

Well, it’s a mixed bag; long-time faithful customers certainly, a few fellow local business owners, the politically apathetic, the aforementioned double K’s who don’t care one way or the other what happens to themselves or others as long as they can still get their plate of tacos, and of course, “Cowboys for Trump”.

Mind you, I didn’t say random cowboys who just happen to be fans of Trump, I’m talking about an organized group of cowboys “for” Trump, which when given the fact that all types of people are puzzlingly enamored with Trump, having cowboys within that mix doesn’t strike as all that strange to begin with. Especially when you consider that out where I live, we have real-life cowboys all over the place- I literally see the Marlboro Man 3 times a week, wearing well-worn spurs, and smoking hand-rolled cigarettes, as they down a cold one at the local watering hole.

Whereas the Marlboro Man would probably judge you solely by your word, your work ethic, possibly your church attendance, and your ability to take a kick to the face from a truly not-to-be-broken horse, these “cowboys” so ain’t that. Not by a long shot. No pun intended.

But before I get into highlighting the who, the what, and as to the why they’re far more relevant to this story and more importantly, to the issues surrounding Jalisco’s than the other patrons, let me share their “vision” so-called, as posted on their website: “To support our sitting President Donald J. Trump and his Make America Great Again policies.  We believe that by securing our border, protecting our second Amendment, and protecting the lives of the unborn are the most vital and key aspects in Americas Greatness.

We also want to stand up and support rural America thru greater access to public lands, natural resources, and rural industries. We advocate against the attacks of environmental and radical endangered species acts. The backbone of America is found in the logging, ranching, mining, farming and oil and gas industries. And those are the industries in which we support.”

Along with this declaration of backing a man who hypocritically at best, advocates for their supposed values, they then go on to state the following: “We believe that we are a nation at crisis and want to show support for our President who is standing with us preserving our way of life. Our three main concerns are: (1) Securing our nation’s porous southern border. (2) Protecting the unborn (3) Preserving our 2nd Amendment right.”

Now, I could address the mangling of proper grammar here, or the fact that their website looks like most of their operating capitol goes to buying Trump flags to pose with in selfies, but I have somewhat bigger horses to go and geld. As is the norm with the majority of Trump’s slavishly uneducated base, an amalgamation of putrefactive patriotism, religious zealotry, wholesale duplicity and xenophobia reinforce their tissue-paper thin intellectualism, much to the chagrin of those who have to deal with them directly, and the amusement of us who don’t.

What isn’t funny however, is just how these people endeavor to remain willingly ignorant in relation to what’s actually going on outside the boundaries of their small and fearfully paranoid world. Once again, we go to their website: “Unfortunately our nation’s security is being used as a political bargaining chip with the residents of our nation’s borderlands paying the price. We believe we are a nation of laws and want to see those laws upheld. As a nation, we must stand behind President Trump and his push for strong border security.

We organized this ride to support our President and our Nation. This is the nation that we love and the nation that has always been considered a place where freedom and liberty ring. A Nation where justice is upheld and law and order are embraced. A nation where our political leaders are put into office to serve the American people and not their own interests. We want to secure these God-given rights for our future generations. We firmly believe this is a demand of “We The People” and a demand that MUST be carried forth.

Our ride was not only be a symbol of support but more importantly a symbol of unity. A unity that is not created by political agendas nor created by partisan lines. We want to show a unity that is upheld and supported by who we are as Americans and the ideals and principles that make America the very best! We as Americans, by God’s grace, can get our country back and make America Great Again.

2 Chronicles 7:14 tells us that if we will pray, repent, and turn from our wicked ways that God will hear our prayers and heal our land; that in a nutshell, is what we must do. We must seek God. We must turn from our wickedness as a nation. We must love our neighbor as our self. We MUST do this NOW.”

Ok… let’s unpack this s**t sandwich, shall we? Quite honestly, there’s nothing more nauseating, and I say this as both a recovering Catholic and proud American, than to see hypocrites who’ve wrapped themselves in the Flag, justify their own character flaws and targeted abuses against the innocent community at large, by purposefully misinterpreting the Word.

The very concept that a group of God-fearing warriors who believe that they’re battling for the soul of America would vaunt a lying, racist, homophobic, xenophobic, misogynistic, cravenly, traitorous, grifting, adulterous, porn-star paying, narcissistic man-child who golfs every Sunday rather than attend church, as their lauded champion isn’t only laughable, it’s damn near sociopathic.

I for one, don’t recall any part of the Bible where this sort of behavior is given a pass, especially for someone who once said in two separate interviews: “I have great relationship with God. I have great relationship with the Evangelicals. I like to be good. I don’t like to have to ask for forgiveness. And I am good. I don’t do a lot of things that are bad. I try to do nothing that is bad. I just go on and try to do a better job from there. I don’t think so, I think if I do something wrong, I think, I just try and make it right. I don’t bring God into that picture. I don’t.”

Color me curious, but did Larry Flynt ever publish a version of the Bible that’s sold exclusively through Horse Tack shops or more likely, PornHub?

Because if so, it adequately would explain as to why these self-proclaimed Christians ignore their own blatant disingenuousness. For all their chatter that liberals are “intolerant”, they always seem to be the only ones who want to chill the Free Press, ban gay marriage, limit women’s healthcare options, openly deport Mexicans, ban voting by mail, slur all Muslims as terrorists, demand that oppositional party politicians be arrested for imaginary crimes, and turn a deliberately blind eye to police murdering African-Americans with chilling impunity as they fail to successfully boycott any person or corporation daring to promote diverse or humanistic views. Ironically, the only thing Liberals truly cannot tolerate is intolerance. Funny, that.

I’ve said it before, and I know I will say it again, but it’s my opinion that these people are Christians in very much the same way that Donald Trump is a faithful husband, or that Kevin Sorbo will ever be mistaken for an actual actor. And if these riders of a short-horse ever bothered to actually read the Constitution, they’d be shocked to realize that the rights they claim are always being denied to them, apply to others as well.

Because when it comes to their interpretation of the Bible, man… are they in for one hell of a shock when they get to meet Jesus. I’m pretty sure he’s going to have some thoughts, and they’re not going to like the Post-It notes he’s been jotting down. But overall, why should anybody really care if a bunch of working cowboys want to take time off from their ranches, farms, and part-time jobs entertaining children at birthday parties, to go ride their hobby-horses to the White House in a show of support for our incompetent president, who quite honestly, wouldn’t piss on these sheeple if they were on fire?

More than the unintentional humor these flag-waving Hatetriots provide, is what they disquietingly represent- the hateful underbelly of modern politics that threatens to flash over into physical violence based on no more than a whim. What do I base this potentially valid belief of mine on, you ask? In general, I may actually not be the best one to answer that, as after all, it would just be my simple little opinion, and Lord knows, what could that be worth in the end?

So, in my case to strive for accuracy, I’ll just go straight to the Fountain of Goof to get the evidence I need to bolster my assertion, as personified by the founder of Cowboys for Trump, that being current Republican Otero County Commissioner Couy Griffin, who, if I were trying to remain diplomatic, I would classify as an individual with a truly unique point of view, to say the very least.

And as an aside, if anyone out there can give me the entomology behind his first name, I would be eternally grateful, as all I’m coming up with are jokes involving cactus and the Spanglish nickname for Chewbacca.Normally, as an elected official, you’d think that you’d try to avoid any form of controversy that might threaten your public standing, but Griffin is definitely a true maverick. And by that, I mean his mouth needs not only to remain closed lest others become infected by his asinine rhetoric, but if it has to be open, there should probably be a bit in it, to keep said blather rendered even more unintelligible than it already is.

You’re probably curious as to what this cosplaying as a cowboy troglodyte has had to say about the issues of the day, and let me tell you, some of his less-than-intelligent assessments are a showcase for highlighting the depth to which a combined mélange of personal delusion and ignorance can sink.

By way of example, he rationalized to the Daily Beast that people who were protesting against lockdown orders were possibly justified in using violence, as he feels that Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer and Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam, are no less than traitors who deserve to be killed for imposing vital restrictions to help flatten the curve of the Coronavirus pandemic.

I can hear you all saying, “so what?” in relation to what I just presented. After all, why should anybody care about yet another fringe group that eventually, SNL will be making fun of? So, what if a bunch of faux patriots led by someone who preaches a gospel of vehement insurrection, and who violates the very tenets of the faith he claims to follow, likes to get on his literal high-horse and go for a ride every now and then with a bunch of like-minded muttonheads?

This is America, and last time I checked, you can do, within reason of course, pretty much whatever you want. Or it was America when I woke up this morning- I haven’t checked Twitter yet to see what our mad king has decreed.

Here’s why we all should care: a direct quote from the (alleged) Man with No Brain that raised more than a few alarm bells during his discourse, was this gem: “You get to pick your poison: You either go before a firing squad, or you get the end of the rope,” When queried about the possibility that protestors may become increasingly violent, he replied that: “I’ll tell you what, partner, as far as I’m concerned, there’s not an option that’s not on the table,”

While speaking at a church in Truth or Consequences located in New Mexico, he irresponsibly and glibly opined that: “the only good Democrat is a dead Democrat.”, a comment that he somewhat walked back after receiving valid condemnation from not only New Mexican citizens, but from Marg Elliston, the Democratic Party of New Mexico Chairwoman, as well.

Elliston responded to his inanity by saying: “Violent speech like this has no place in New Mexico politics. The silence from New Mexico Republican officials is deafening and implies their tacit approval of Commissioner Griffin’s behavior.” Every Republican candidate and elected leader should condemn Griffin’s actions “unequivocally, and Griffin should resign his post,”

As to be expected, the state GOP response regarding Griffin’s clarion call to violence, has remained dishonorably weak. For his part, Griffin feebly contended that his comments were taken out of their true context, stating that they were never intended to be taken literally, and averring that he was referring to their political careers, and not their lives.

I don’t say that in the physical sense, and I can already see where the videos getting edited where it says I want to go murder Democrats. No,” Griffin elocuted, “I say that in the political sense because the Democrat agenda and policy is anti-American right now. I absolutely don’t want to harm anybody; I don’t agree with the Democrat platform.”

Later adding to his remarks, he expounded: “I’m saying it politically speaking and I’m saying it because we need to have majorities in the House and the Senate. It’s the only way that we’re gonna put the brakes on an out-of-control governor.

Sure… I’d buy that explanation for a dollar, and I’m sure the rest of you would as well. This ironic hypocrisy by the way, emanates from a man who not only has repeatedly criticized necessary pandemic related limitations, but who later told The Daily Beast that he “could’ve chosen a different verbiage. I guess I need to be more careful when I choose the words that I speak,” he admitted, “But you know, it’s just so hypocritical of the left how they’re blowing this up, like I’m some hate-speech murderer.

Yeah, it’s so hypocritical of us as a group to call someone out for openly declaring that people who don’t share their political disposition should be killed, based on nothing more than a highly warped worldview and a misinterpretation of the Constitution.

Despite multiple demands for his immediate resignation, Griffin has declared that he will not do so, because he believes he did nothing wrong in the first place. Not too surprisingly, this steaming pile of fecund folly was retweeted by our Toddler in Chief, thereby negating Griffins faux apologetics, and giving it a sense of unwarranted validity among his cult.

Comically, this wouldn’t be the first stand for erratic idiocy that Griffin has drawn a symbolic line in the sand for. Previously, using the platform of Twitter much like his incompetent idol, Griffin carped of being denied access to his local Walmart due to their unyielding request that all customers wear face masks in order to enter the store.

Cryptically threatening that: “It might be a lead up to a civil war,” Griffin continued: “And if we do have a civil war over this, maybe that’s gonna be the uniforms. Maybe one of the uniforms will have masks on and the other ones won’t.” Griffin also attempted to defend his contemptable history of uttering incendiary declarations to New Mexican columnist Milan Simonic by claiming that, “I’m the target of lies and slander, horrible slander. There’s no uproar from the left over that.”

A charge that currently, he has been unable as of yet, to ascertain with any form of proof.

Drawing on his previous skillset as a traveling street preacher, Griffin now uses his odious gift for twisting logic and reality into the formulation of a political movement based in ignorance and paranoia, that literally rides in on a horse. There’s an old and well-known rejoinder that goes: “F**k you and the horse you rode in on.”, and while I’ve used that as a retort in the past, I never once thought it would ever be an actually tangible concept.

Granted, these Dupes of Hazzard are no worse or no better than the majority of the cultists that kiss the gilded feet of their spray-tanned version of *ḥēṭ’ ha‘ēggel, but for me, there’s the local connection to consider. Back in May, Jalisco’s Cafe which at that point, had been openly violating a state-issued public health order, and as of yet, has suffered no tangible consequences for doing so, served as the Cowboys for Trump meeting point before they paraded through the streets, traveling to Gough Park in Silver City for an “Open New Mexico” rally.

What a great series of mixed messages Mesa was promoting with this alliance… come in for the Chiles Rellenos, stay for the religious hypocrisy, faux patriotism, the xenophobic ignorance, and threats of metaphorical hangings! You know, just like your abuela used to make? *[The Golden Calf referenced in the Bible]

Now, if I were to play Devil’s Advocate here for a moment, I would unreservedly put forth the credence that one cannot choose who expresses support for them, but the person in question can choose whether or not to support them right back.

For instance, the KKK openly endorsed Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign for President, a position which normally, should give anyone who isn’t a malignant narcissist a moment of inward reflection as to why that might be, but to be fair, Trump’s campaign did quickly issue the following statement in regards to it: “Mr. Trump and the campaign denounces hate in any form. This publication is repulsive and their views do not represent the tens of millions of Americans who are uniting behind our campaign.”

Granted, as we’ve all come to see, that sole declaration wasn’t worth spit, but I digress. After all, when you’ve locked up the White supremacist vote without even trying, your inherent problem probably goes a lot deeper than some bad PR. Speaking of which… if Mesa wasn’t truly cognizant of Griffins controversial and inflammatory remarks, along with his hilariously blatant Christian hypocrisy, than I can understand his acceptance of their pony show without question, and suggest that we should all just cut him some slack.

Note that I said “some”, not “all”. There is still the Piper to be paid in regards to his deliberate actions, and he’s long overdue in settling that account in full. But there is an alleged caveat of sorts that also needs to be given equal consideration, that being, what if he did know?

After all it’s one thing to plead ignorance regarding the character of people who are obviously strangers to you, but if you were banking on positive publicity and the support of your local community to shield you from the state entities determined to castigate you and your business for breaking the law, would you have so graciously accepted CFT’s virulent “help” wholesale? T

here are really only two possibly valid responses to my academic and hypothetical query, and those are separated into the short reply of “Hell, no”, and the slightly longer one of “Oh, f**k no.” I won’t make any snap judgements about Mesas’ overall character, as it would be extremely arrogant if not slanderous, of me to do so without the proper statistical data, but if the adage that you’re judged by the company that you keep is even remotely true, than he’s going to need a severe makeover, and that right quick.

Think of it as a “Queer Eye” type of intervention, but instead of addressing issues with his fashion sense, it would address his fascist sense, or to be more specific, his willing collaboration with a group of people who openly support one. It’s fairly obvious however, that when it comes to how he runs his business, Mesa believes in a slightly distorted take on the old Seussian axiom of “Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind!”.

Except that when it comes to his interpretation of its context, he‘s taken it to heart that as long as there are unquestioning loyalists who eat his food no matter what legal decrees he casually ignores, all those who disagree publicly to his arrogant stance aren’t to be factored in at all.

Let’s keep in mind though, what sort of people he already has and will continue to be attracting into his restaurant with all of his puerile posturing. The reality here is that when it gets right down to brass tacks, if he’s openly comfortable with posting a racist dog whistle on the side of his building, as well as plastering his front windows with debunked internet snake oil of the lowest quality, then his willingly folding tortillas with faux patriots who moonlight as the American version of the Taliban, won’t probably tip the scales toward the positive for anyone whose intellect still works.

If this group of xenophobic hypocrites is considered either as a desired customer demographic to be courted, or far worse- as valuable allies by Mesa, I can only imagine (with a dawning sense of sickening trepidation) just exactly whom or what, he’d be more than willing to consider sponsoring in the future.

As I suggested earlier, come in for the Chiles Rellenos, stay for the religious hypocrisy, the faux patriotism, the xenophobic ignorance, and threats of metaphorical hangings, and if he plays his cards right, who knows what can happen… maybe the next big event he’ll agree to cater for his new Cowboy buddies, will be a midnight torch-lit get-together on somebody’s front lawn.

The White robes being optional, of course.

“The only thing worse than a bigot is an “ally” who can’t stop congratulating themselves on their enlightenment.”- Julio Alexi Genao















Media-ocrity Pt. 2 (Jaundiced Journalism)

“If I’d written all the truth I knew for the past ten years, about 600 people, including me, would be rotting in prison cells from Rio to Seattle today. Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity in the context of professional journalism.” -Hunter S. Thompson

Hello Blogiteers!

Question for the day in two parts: Do we still truly have a Free Press in this country, and if so, why does their journalistic genitalia now resemble the genderless set that Barbies’ forever companion Ken has? I’d normally opine that it’s to protect our children from both unrealistic expectations, if not the uncomfortable questions their imaginative curiosity may unearth, but isn’t the entire purpose of the Fourth Estate to serve as the morally incorruptible Cerberus to our political process?

The iconic broadcast journalist Edward R. Murrow in regards to his chosen profession, once stated that: “We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty. We must remember always that accusation is not proof and that conviction depends upon evidence and due process of law. We will not walk in fear, one of another. We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful men – not from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate, and to defend causes that were, for the moment, unpopular.” 

A grave sentiment which when measured against this jaded age of ethically challenged journalism, deserves an introspective overview. Murrow, long held up as a paragon for the inherent purity of what has also been referred to as the Fourth Branch of the government, authored several sage observations regarding the sanctity and intrinsic responsibility of those who act as our advocates in the challenge of protecting our right to know what must not ever be hidden from the populace at large.

 The most famous of these being: “Our major obligation is not to mistake slogans for solutions.” “Everyone is a prisoner of his own experiences. No one can eliminate prejudices–just recognize them.” “A great many people think they are thinking when they are really rearranging their prejudices.” “To be persuasive, we must be believable, to be believable, we must be credible, to be credible, we must be truthful.” ”No one can terrorize a whole nation, unless we are all his accomplices.”

However, the most relevant, especially given the reach of today’s over-saturated 24/7 news cycle, may be this: “The speed of communications is wondrous to behold. It is also true that speed can multiply the distribution of information that we know to be untrue.”

On the surface, we hear echoes of these lofty affirmations without fail, from almost every news distributor, no matter what their distillation of the news may be accessible to you as, whether it’s in the form of magazines and newspapers, streamed online content, or your local six o’clock news, it’s been subtly shaped, constructed, and disseminated to the general populace as the only source we should ever trust.

The fact that these pre-packaged placebos are deigned to ensnare a specific demographics bias, can be construed as nothing less than troubling, if only for its strongly Orwellian undertones. It’s almost impossible to make an educated decision if the information you’re receiving has been deliberately premeditated to sync up and reinforce the views and opinions you already possess.

In the dystopian tome 1984, if I may reference author George Orwell yet again, the stated ideology of “Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past” has, via the crucible of a corporate thirst slaked only by the accruement of power and profit, found itself recast as “Whoever controls the media, controls the mind”, which aims a spotlight upon those shadowy machinations that covertly direct the perception of what modern journalism pretends to represent these days. Back in June of 2010, I wrote about this very sort of thing, and opined that there were only two modes that modern mass media operated in, that being either Fear or Fluff.

To quote myself: “Fear mode dispenses stories about illegal immigrants, vague terror threats, unsubstantiated pandemics, child kidnappings, crime alerts, there’s a [in 2010] black President and everything is his fault, the foods that may kill you- although you have to wait till the 10 PM newscast to find out what those foods are, things that essentially make you want to join the NRA, listen to Sarah Palin, fortify your house with extra ammo, food and water, purchase a nuclear weapon, and vote Republican. Just in case.

Fluff mode on the other hand, feeds you cotton candy- celebutards tweeting, kittens rescued from trees, charity stories, who Madonna is currently sleeping with, or pretty much anything involving Model / Whore / Bad Singer / Bad Actress / Waste of Skin / Paris Hilton. Too much and your brain rots. Think Keanu Reeves.

And speaking of brain rot, why does our local news keep testifying to their slobbering masses that they transmit in “Hi Def”? Who gives a rat’s ass? It’s not that important for me to see the mindless 6 and 10 PM Technigore, especially on a $250.00 TV set. Also, “Hi Def” is not, shall we say- kind, to the on-air talent.

The first time I saw CH. 3’s morning anchor Patti Kirkpatrick in “Hi Def”, I was instantly reminded of my car’s interior- but only because they’re both constructed out of overworked leather.”

As you can see, even 10 years later, the issue of journalistic competence and my sense of inherent cynicism remain not only pertinent, but unfortunately so. How sad and somewhat terrifying, is it that I can go back a decade and save for a few cultural references, still be able to drop an entire section into a current screed, with nary a ripple stirred? The more things change, the more they remain the same, and all that happy jazz, I guess.

What has changed however, is the lack of spine that certain journalists are willingly displaying in the wake of an increasingly fascist presidential administration due to the fear of either losing presidential access, or stunningly, the fear of being tweeted about. It literally strikes me no less than wholly ridiculous that a cadre of fully-grown and seasoned professionals who’ve covered everything from wars to street-crime are seemingly intimidated by a corpulent, lying, narcissistic, coddled man-toddler, who’s always in some form of sheer meltdown mode.

If I ever had a kid who acted this way in public such as he does without any fear of credible repercussion, I’d help answer a few personally-held questions regarding dental aerodynamics and physics as I’d validate whether or not it’s really possible to slap someone’s mouth right out of their skull. And collectively, we’d discover whether it’s truly feasible for one to Twitter when your iPhone has been unceremoniously shoved up your ass sideways as well.

It’s contemplative thoughts like this by the way, that make me strongly suspect that I might not be cut from the cloth of fatherhood… just saying.

Despite my barbed criticism, I will express a sympathy, albeit one that is limited, towards the unfortunate members of the Press Corps, who after years of paying their dues, finally get to play the big room, only to discover that their careers positional security is based on a critical ability to not accidentally trigger a spray-tanned orangutan into throwing his feces at them, and more importantly, their chosen network.

Previously, an individual would most likely actively seek out a news source that as I noted above, appealed to their singular biases and beliefs, which is really not too surprising overall. We like what we like, and as a species, try to keep our comfort zone as cozy as we can make it, given what realities we’re forced to deal with every now and then. And back in the day, at least outwardly where it’s public persona was concerned, Journalism attempted to market itself as an institution founded on an ideology of incorruptible ethics, although at times it could contain a smattering of political lean- a transparent POV offset by the balance of truly independent counterpoints being also equally presented.

This translucent integrity took a severe hit in 1987 when the Fairness Doctrine was eliminated by then President Ronald Reagan who’s veto on legislation designed to save it helped end the policy after being an FCC staple for over three decades. But what was it exactly, and what does it have to do with the ongoing degradation of political reporting in this country?

From Wikipedia: “The fairness doctrine of the United States Federal Communications Commission (FCC), introduced in 1949, was a policy that required the holders of broadcast licenses to both present controversial issues of public importance and to do so in a manner that was, in the FCC’s view- honest, equitable, and balanced.

The FCC eliminated the policy in 1987 and removed the rule that implemented the policy from the Federal Register in August 2011. The fairness doctrine had two basic elements:

It required broadcasters to devote some of their airtime to discussing controversial matters of public interest, and to air contrasting views regarding those matters. Stations were given wide latitude as to how to provide contrasting views: It could be done through news segments, public affairs shows, or editorials. The doctrine did not require equal time for opposing views but required that contrasting viewpoints be presented.

The demise of this FCC rule has been considered by some to be a contributing factor for the rising level of party polarization in the United States. The main agenda for the doctrine was to ensure that viewers were exposed to a diversity of viewpoints. In 1969 the United States Supreme Court, in Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, upheld the FCC’s general right to enforce the fairness doctrine where channels were limited. However, the Court did not rule that the FCC was obliged to do so.

The courts reasoned that the scarcity of the broadcast spectrum, which limited the opportunity for access to the airwaves, created a need for the doctrine. The fairness doctrine is not the same as the equal-time rule. The fairness doctrine deals with discussion of controversial issues, while the equal-time rule deals only with political candidates.”

In its purest distillation, what the demise of this rule has spawned, is the proliferation of as yet unchecked news organizations and networks who unlike their established predecessors, now freely graft a specifically crafted narrative to their presentation of newsworthy events, exempt from the fear of consequence since they would no longer be required to offer an equal alternative to the POV they were promoting.

These corrupted clockworks of disinformation, run by a cabal who present themselves much in the manner of a freelance illicit pharmaceutical rep lurking in the shadows at the edge of a Walmart’s’ parking lot, inflict a far more insidious social poison, that being a dense miasma of falsehoods branded and marketed as neutral commentary to a populace that is far too mawkish in regards to what was Journalism’s once unquestionable virtue of fearlessly speaking truth to power.

However, unlike the news coverage of the past, the multiple reporting media platforms ranging from long-established alt-right networks such as Fox and Breitbart, to feckless websites such as InfoWars, a digital sewer lorded over by unhinged demagogue conspiracy-theorist Alex Jones, exist solely to be no more than a complicit softball-dispensing propaganda arm for whatever political movement they find themselves ideologically in alignment with.

At best, these ethically compromised media outlets can be disturbingly effective at the propagation of fraudulent and damaging advocational positions, due to their entrenchment within the sphere of media that they alone control. And at worst? Well… look at not only who they willingly helped achieve access to the formerly most respected office in the world, but note how they are currently assisting in the white-washing by he and his sycophants that concerns his impotence at governing competently.

When I see who’s sort of running the free world these days, it almost makes me feel as if I’ve been in a hospital coma ward for the last 20 years, and somehow managed to finagle a three-day-pass from my psychologist and let loose into the world unawares. Speaking as a person who rightfully considers himself a political junkie, even I’m starting to feel like I wound up speed-balling a kilo of uncut smack directly into my heart in relation to all that has occurred since January of 2016, and which horrifyingly, just keeps getting exponentially worse with each passing day.

Formerly known to be immoral character lapses such as corruption, influence peddling, nepotism, deceit, blatant racism, misogyny, fraud, homophobia, xenophobia, and rape culture have been oddly normalized, if not rewarded outright, and most stunningly of all, a bold-faced repudiation of core American values willfully embraced by a demographic who claims to bleed red, white, and blue. Well, they definitely bleed white, anyway.

When tallied up, these abominable flaws of a maggot-ridden character that exist are, and always should remain as so, a stain on the floors of what was once a hallowed and revered calling, and if the concept of schadenfreude ever becomes a physical presence, I can only hope it lands on the metaphorical throats of these capricious charlatans of journalistic integrity with spiked boots that are also concurrently on fire.

What can I say? I like a good visual to go along with my dispense of deserved justice.

But even given the ongoing failure of today’s journalism to stand as a united front against the Fanta Fascist currently endangering America and its denizens, there exists an even more ignorant subculture, whom still support this dangerously narcissistic nitwit and the media that promotes and shields him, despite being in his crosshairs, and inadvertently or not, they are equally as bad as the mango Mussolini himself.

And even after we rid ourselves of this failed social media experiment, they will remain interwoven within our society, defiant, angry, and motivated to their delusional creed. I am of course talking about the people who identify with one of the most odious political movements of our time, that being the paranoiac monstrosity known as QAnon,

For those of you lucky enough to be unaware of what this gathering of mental midgets is and what it represents, I can only say that I envy you, and wish that I was still blessed with that void of tranquility within my acquired knowledge. But sadly, I feel I must now take the time to make you aware, because that’s what I do, and I truly cannot apologize enough for having to do so.

However, if I didn’t, I’d feel like that I left a good deal of you intellectually unarmed, and there’s no way I’m allowing this on my conscience, after that whole “Hey, let’s watch Highlander 2, The Renegade Cut” vegan pizza party fiasco I foisted upon some formerly close friends a few months back. So, who are these dogmatic curs of discourse, and why should you care?

At its inane [if not completely insane] core, QAnon is a wrapped-in-tin-foil conspiracy theory detailing an alleged secret subversion by the “deep state” against U.S. President Donald Trump and his base of loyal followers, The fantastical theory originated in October of 2017 after a person (or persons) utilizing the moniker of “Q” posted on the 4chan website, claiming to have intimate access to classified information concerning the Trump administration and its adversaries.

This vile gathering of slithering agitation has routinely slandered numerous high-profile individuals, ranging from beloved actor Tom Hanks, along with various politicians, and government officials, who Q claims that along with many others who self-identify as politically liberal, are directly involved and complicit in the act of engaging in an international child sex trafficking ring.

And no… I’m not kidding.

You have no idea how much I wish I was. They also maintain that Donald Trump feigned collusion with Russians in order to enlist the aid of Robert Mueller (?) to expose this alleged sex ring, while helping to prevent a coup d’état overseen by former president Barack Obama and ex-secretary of state Hillary Clinton, along with noted philanthropist George Soros, whose personal check for my clandestine services, I’m still waiting on.

“Q” allegedly takes its name from the Q clearance used by the Department of Energy. The deluded disciples of this inanity are also known for posting the hashtag of #WWG1WGA on their various social media pages, signifying the movements motto of “where we go one, we go all”, which I have always assumed meant that when one of these mentally-larded simpletons has a hankering for a plate of chicken-fried steak from their local Waffle House, all of them get loaded up in their Mom’s minivan, and go together in order to secure the early-bird discount.

However, the core belief that these nattering Nancy Drew nutters have latched onto much in the same manner that Madonna holds onto her diminishing cultural relevance, is that there exists an organization of pedophiliac Satan-worshippers, [similar to the Illuminati] which rules the known world. Allegedly, “they” control politicians, they control the Media, and naturally of course, they control Hollywood,

Their existence would have remained a closely-guarded secret, unbeknownst to most, if not for the election of Donald Trump- you know, the supposed billionaire with a long history of alleged sexual assaults, who’s cheated on all three of his wives, and is also known for making highly inappropriate sexually tinged remarks about his own daughter, and has been linked to no less than five prominent alleged pedophiles, that being Jeffery Epstein, John Casablancas, Tevfik Arif, George Nader, and Ray Cohn?

Yep… this checks out. I once noted that it was amazing how every woman I knew had at best, no less than three stories of someone attempting to sexually assault them, but yet, no male friend of mine has ever known a sexual predator. Weird, that. But even given this disconnect from reality, who the hell have you ever known who has been intimate friends with five pedophiles, and if they were, would you think they’d be the logical go-to to stop a child sex-trafficking ring?

Pushing this lunacy under the CBN-esque movie names The Storm and The Great Awakening, this half-baked conspiracy theory and case of full-on cerebral degradation has been branded by most mainstream journalists as unfounded, deranged, and lacking any traces of evidence or rational thought. This of course, does not apply to the fine folks at FOX, who’ve more than once, lauded promoters of QAnon theories on-air, exposing the network’s already brainwashed viewers to yet another level of incognizance.

In a Fox & Friends segment aired in March of 2019, regarding Donald Trump’s toothless executive order concerning free speech on college campuses, Fox “reporter” Carley Shimkus read a tweet from @QAnon76, a noteworthy QAnon Twitter account that currently, has more than 160,000 followers. Shimkus cited @QAnon76 as one of the Twitter users praising Trump’s action, reading the tweet on-air as Fox displayed the Twitter handle on-screen: “Do not for one second, underestimate the significance of this EO,” the tweet read. “Thank you POTUS for reestablishing and preserving FREE SPEECH rights for ALL students.”

An ironically hypocritical statement, when one takes into account that Trump recently threatened TV stations with the full revocation of their FCC-issued broadcasting licenses if they didn’t immediately cease and desist airing a political ad that fittingly criticized him using his own statements for his totally inept bungling of the horrific coronavirus pandemic currently threatening the United States economy, its labor force, and most critically, its citizenry. Not that our swaggering wannabe banana republic tin-plated dictator with delusions of godhood really cares, of course.

Trump has repeatedly re-tweeted posts from Q Anon followers, some of whom have later been banned from Twitter for breach of the platform’s guidelines, solely on the basis of the compliments for him contained within, if nothing else.  He, and his complicit GOP lackeys, are far more concerned about their stock portfolios and tenuous grasp on power, than they are regarding the responsibility to uphold their sworn oath of protecting their constituents from harm.

And if I were to go one step further, they also don’t seem too concerned about reigning in the abuse of power regarding the distribution of aid that their moronic man-child is currently inflicting upon the Democratic-run states whom he feels haven’t kissed his ass enough. The nerve of these commoners… don’t they know he’s doing an amazing job that he self-rated at 10/10?

After all, when it comes to the Coronavirus, his past statements should reassure us all, that not only do we have a truly stable genius in charge of the pandemic response, he also has the most accurate information off of FOX concerning it as well, so chillax, kids.

At the time of this writing, his range of statements have gone from the bald-faced lie of “We have it totally under control”, to “I take no responsibility” followed up with the truly tone-deaf tweeted narcissism of: “Because the ‘Ratings’ of my News Conferences etc. are so high, ‘Bachelor finale, Monday Night Football type numbers’ according to the @nytimes, the Lamestream Media is going CRAZY Trump is reaching too many people, we must stop him.’ said one lunatic. See you at 5:00 P.M.!”

Yep… he’s got both of those freakishly small hands around the throat of the pandemic situation, hasn’t he? Almost a death grip, if I may be so bold. Sure, he’s killing us at the same time, but as we all know, some people gotta die so the Jeff Bezos’s of the world can continue to exploit the working class. After all, you can’t wage class warfare without a sub-class beneath you, now can you?

Of course not.

Make no mistake here- he isn’t holding these calculated “briefings” to inform or calm the general public, he’s only holding them because without one of his political Viagra girth-granting rallies, he’s having to directly face just how out of his depth he truly is in regards to filling his elected readership role, and if there is any consistent factor in the fourteen-carat gilded fantasy world of America’s most embarrassingly inept president in its history, it would definitely be his pathological and highly disturbed inability to ever accept blame for anything he’s ever done.

The fake bone-spurs that “kept him” out of Vietnam, even though while on the campaign trail, he couldn’t recall which foot [both] they were supposedly in? Must have been the Doctors fault. His engaging in racial discrimination back in the 70’s? Hey, those people were Black, so it’s their fault, not his. Cheating on all of his wives? Well, he can’t really help it if he’s so goddamn handsome, now can he? His alleged penchant for sexually assaulting women? C’mon- when you’re famous, they just let you do it.

Refusing to apologize for the newspaper ad he took out calling for the deaths of five wrongly convicted African Americans who were later cleared by DNA testing? Science is just a Democratic hoax, based in political correctness. Refusing to read intelligence briefs? He already has the best brain, the best words, the best hunches, and his uncle was a genius who taught at MIT- ironically, a school whose name he can’t spell, so why would he need to?

And when it comes to the Coronavirus, AKA; Covid-19, sorry… that should have been noted as the “Chinese Flu”, since “The Plague of the Coughing Ching-Chong Chink” won’t roll off his Adderall addicted tongue as easily as the latter, since he now claims that despite his previous statements, he always believed that: “This is a pandemic. I felt it was a pandemic long before it was called a pandemic, All you had to do was look at other countries.”

You know, the countries that he’s always insulting, but yet praises when they feign to tell him he’s pretty? Never mind that he spent close to a month golfing and lying to the country he doesn’t give a damn about, as he kept issuing false platitudes that it was not something we ever needed to be concerned about. The reason for this deliberate dereliction of duty? Money. Plain and simple.

As always. The GOP brand has, for quite some time now, stood for GreedOverPeople, and the latest power and cash grabs barely disguised as necessary legislation and judicial appointments reinforces my cynicism almost daily, if not hourly. Another interesting thing or two to unpack here, if I were to note his fecund arc of narcissism yet again, it’s the fact that the quote he so willingly retweeted was from an article criticizing his ham-fisted management of the ongoing pandemic, and that’s the lone point he took away from it.

But what’s even stranger than that, is who he willingly retweeted it from, that being the official New York Times Twitter account, which represents a corner of journalism that he supposedly doesn’t pay any attention to, but yet still obsessively insults, by saying that they are “failing”, “an enemy of the people”, that they represent a “dishonest press”, and who most likely inspired his need to tell Russia’s megalomaniacal dictator and personal  man-crush, Vladimir Putin that he wanted to; ”Get rid of them. Fake news is a great term, isn’t it? You don’t have this problem in Russia, but we do,”

This threadbare red-meat dog whistle, while not true on any level, would be apt as a descriptive where Herr Drumpf is concerned, as he’s ironically, the first fake president this country has ever had to endure.  However, I guess all past sins are forgiven when you erroneously ascribe the wrong narrative to what is essentially a damning insult from a still current detractor, not that our Fanta fascist knows how to differentiate between the two.

Outwardly, I still maintain that what Trump would probably have loved to say if he and his puppet-master, could ever manage to book a weekend tryst at the *Pozharsky Royal Suite within the Four Seasons Hotel in Moscow, would be somewhere along the line of: “Gee, I wish I could murder journalists who dare question me, like you do with impunity.”

*[Currently renting at $19,170.00, or 1,238,000.00 Rubles in the local economy, and sited on the seventh floor, this luxury apartment style accommodation worthy of royalty boasts three king-size bedrooms, a spacious living room, a dining room for 10, and a secluded terrace with Manezhnaya Square, Alexandrovsky Garden, and the Kremlin within its incorporated view.

 It has a private sauna for those late-night election-interfering planning meetings, along with a guest bathroom. The hotel itself is new, but it was inspired by the design of the site’s former occupant, the Hotel Moscow, constructed between 1932 and 1935.

There is some background lore regarding just how the hotels distinctive irregular façade came to b., The story goes that the contractors showed the at that time Russian tyrant Joseph Stalin, a lone architectural plan of the soon to be erected building that had two versions of the façade, and when Stalin signed off on it without noting any specific directives as to which design was approved, the builders being too afraid to ask or decide on their own, united both ideas into one.

Russian madmen… the more they change, the more they have the same effect.]

And if you think I’m off base here, consider this- in March 2019, Putin signed a “Fake News bill” into law, whose inherent vague language criminalizes any journalist who “insults” the state or government online. Essentially, it enacts focused retribution on any who may directly or inadvertently, display alleged “blatant disrespect for society, government, official government symbols, the constitution, or the governmental bodies of Russia.”

A much more disturbing statistic is that no less than 21 journalists have been murdered in Russia since Putin came to power in 2000, and that Russia has recently been ranked number 149 out of 180 countries as noted by the World Press Freedom Index, an annual rating from the organization Reporters Without Borders.

Speaking as a visual artist, I would love to travel to Russia someday. Speaking as someone of German descent, it’d be nice to visit the place the Fatherland might have owned if not for the fact we showed up in winter with the completely wrong wardrobe en masse. But as a writer, I’d also make sure that everything I’d eat and drink during my stay there would have come over on the plane with me, as it seems that a lot of Russian cafes have a worrying issue with Pollinium-210 coming with the meal as an unexpected side-dish.

To be fair, derisive attacks targeting the Free Press from those in authority is not even close to being a relatively new concept, but like most things associated with this corruptly abominable administration, a new bar has been lowered into place, and our president and his sycophantic enablers limbo under it easily, as if they were flattened cockroaches. It’s interesting to note however, that the press wasn’t designated with the slur of “fake news” until the installation of a fake president, but I digress.

Like most demagogues, Trump is not a fan of critical scrutiny, and as such, does whatever he can to cast disrepute upon those who accurately lambast him for his  personal inadequacies which range from an overblown and unfounded Ego, to allegedly being sadly equipped with wedding tackle that can’t get past the molars of a Russian hooker, no matter how much he leans in, which when given pause, might explain why he always overreacts to any form of criticism, minor or major. Project much, my small-handed, small-brained, petite mushroom king?

Understand one thing within the context of what I’m saying here- in order for him to protect the veneer of his fragile as wet-tissue-paper skin, he needs to bully, deflect, lie, and brag his way away from his rapidly expanding list of personal failure, whether it’s as a husband, a father, a businessman, a president, or as a human. Self-reflection is not his bag. Self-absorption is. And he wallows in it as if he were taking a bath in Champagne.

Or to be more accurate in regards to his current stance, the blood of the infected American citizenry that’s dying on his watch, his own supporters included. I have never before seen in my lifetime or in my own country at least, a publicly supported sociopath, and if Odin is prepared, never will again, once they place this *egoistisch verräter either in a rat-infested prison, or as an unwilling counterweight swinging on the end of a knotted rope, much in the manner of Mussolini. *[“Selfish traitor” in German]

Who by the way, still holds the honor of the best Pinata cosplay I’ve ever seen a photo of, hands down. I’m good with both, to be quite honest, and at this point, it’s long overdue.

Despite playing the victim card more often than a GOP senator caught yet again having consensual gay sex in a public bathroom with an underaged rough trick, Trump still managed to self-own his own facetiousness in an interview with the “failing” New York Times (weird, because they’re “failing”) that was published in February of 2019, and contained the following admission: “I do notice that people are declaring more and more fake news… I even see it in other countries. I don’t necessarily attribute that to me. I think I can attribute the term to me. I think I was the one that started using it.”

When we run his stereotypical, I’m not to blame for anything I’ve done or said deflection through a Trumpspeak to English translator, it processes as: “I didn’t concoct the conspiracy theory that all the negative news about me is fake, I simply coined the term to describe it.” Oh, yeah… once again, that makes sense to take credit for a term for something that you didn’t invent or know about, yet seemingly were the only one espousing at the time, then and now. Odd that a conman who takes the thunder for things he had no hand in, wouldn’t want the recognition for inventing the most successful political catchphrase of the last few years, huh?

Other things he’s claimed he did that have no basis in actual reality include: creating the phrase: “Priming the pump”, claiming Lady Gaga only became a star because of him, increasing internet speed: “I have made the internet faster than any other president. We’re at 5G right now, going to 6G and probably 7. Obama barely got to 4G.”

The act of popularizing campaign rallies, firing CEOs from his executive council who had actually quit first, restoring the widespread use of “Merry Christmas” back to the American people, not starting a new Civil War: “Since I have been president, we have had nothing like the Civil War, or any other war between states, which happened a lot in our history. A lot. I really love the South and had I been their president, they would have won. Believe me.”

Ford’s investment in creating jobs for Michigan and Kentucky, the sales of McDonald’s cheeseburgers doubling, the dimensions of oranges in Florida: “Florida’s oranges are like super big this year. Imagine if Crooked Hil had won?”, the popularity of the English language around the world: “More people in other countries speak English than we have here who speak their languages. America is great again and much of the world knows it – that’s why so many people can’t wait to speak our language and stop using theirs, which is really tough to speak and write, anyway.”,

In regards to American public safety: “We have more people now in American jails than any country, even the really bad countries, like some really terrible ones. It proves that my focus on law and order is working when before they would be on work-release programs and God knows where. Americans haven’t been this safe since Eisenhower, a Republican, and we’re probably safer than that.”, military funding and it’s new technology: “We spend more on military than most nations combined now because of me, but we do it smartly. We put money into planes, really good planes and bombers, for instance that can shoot people from many, many miles away. We never had that before.”

 Increasing a sense of Patriotism: “A lot of people tell me that more people are saying the pledge and singing OUR anthem than ever before. When Obama was president, there was kneeling- not just the guys you know about it. Many, many more. They’re not now.” and my personal favorite slice of lunacy, this hypocritical tidbit, which could only be the result of a three-day Adderall and Quarter-pounder binge: “According to the CDC fewer girls and women are getting abortions because they are hearing my message of abstinence and loving one man or woman and what I say about the bible.” Spreading the Word, just like Jesus… it’s truly amazing.

 Or maybe not, when you consider he has repeatedly stated that the Bible is his “favorite” book, coming first of course, just before his second most favorite book, his ghostwritten tome, The Art of the Deal where he spends the majority of it bragging about his business acumen, which as we’ve all seen and experienced, is as solidly set in concrete that has the tensile strength of microwaved Velveeta, but I digress.

However, during the course of a sit-down interview with Bloomberg Politics back in August of 2019, he was casually asked as to what his favorite book contained within its pages was, and this charlatan who has broken literally all Ten Commandments- nine of them repeatedly, prattled out the following response: “I wouldn’t want to get into that because to me that’s very personal … The Bible means a lot to me, but I don’t want to get into specifics.”

When pressed to recite a favorite verse, the deer-in-the headlights look on his face as he feebly spat out; “No, I don’t want to do that.”, was the purest hypocritical comedy gold one could ever hope for. But it only got better…throwing out one last merciful Hail Mary softball question that my eight-year old Grandniece could have answered right as she woke up from a cheese-stick bender nap, our resident Liar in Chief was gently handed the query of whether he liked the Old Testament or the New Testament more.

For those of you who aren’t religious, you tend to pick the Old when you’re a devotee of God’s wrath and divinity, think of it as a “tough on crime” stance, and the New when you possess more of a laid back “Jesus is my Homeboy” approach to spirituality.

If I were to put this opinion into the form of a classical musical analogy, the soundtrack to the Old would be Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain, versus Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6 for the New.

Either way as a politician, it’s an easy win-win, and only a total muttonhead could have screwed this known factoid up.  Fortunately for learned Atheists and late-night TV comedians, the tangerine-tinted Muppet masquerading as our president, managed to do just that. His intellectual gambit to convince all in earshot and those watching on TV of his rock-solid Faith? He said, and I happily quote: “Probably equal. I think it’s just an incredible… the whole Bible. I think it’s just incredible. The whole Bible is incredible.”

His cleverness made flesh, he followed up that highly plausible opinion with the following: “I joke, very much so, they always hold up the Art of the Deal, I always say, ‘My second favorite book of all time.” Yep, if there’s one thing Adolf Twittler is known for, on top of his honesty, his marital fidelity, his bravery, his love of minorities, his humbleness, his piety, his eloquence, his civility, and his stunning personal charm, it’s most definitely his sense of humor.

And let’s give credit where credit is due, his weaponizing of the Evangelical movement in this country is nothing short of awe-inspiring, even if he did inadvertently admit to a room full of the most prominent religious leaders in this country that he actually doesn’t know dick about his “favorite” book after all.

Speaking to them, he referenced Robert Jeffress, an Evangelical pastor and contributing liar on FOX who has stated that Trump is a “Christian warrior”, and has also declared that any attempt to remove him from office would result in the creation of a “Civil War-like fracture” within the United States.

Ironically, he’s gleefully opined that Jews were “going to Hell”, while also claiming that he’s prayed to “bless those who bless Israel and curse those who curse Israel”. I’ve just got to ask the obvious question here, so bear with me if you would- why would you damn Jews, but yet wish for blessings upon where they live?

Is he trying to protect some sort of future celestial real estate angle that involves the West Bank, assuming that all the Jews will leave prime beach behind once they’ve been forcibly relocated to Satan’s sauna?

And why was Jeffress even mentioned, you ask? Once again, I quote our incognizant doyen of dumbassery: “I didn’t know him, but I watched him, and I’d watch him on different shows. I said,’ I like that guy. Man, he talks really great about me, and I like people that talk well about me.’ He was saying, ‘He may not be the greatest Christian I’ve ever seen, he may not know the Bible quite as well as the rest of us, in fact he may not know it very well at all, but that guy’s a real leader.”

Yep… our Bible-loving apostolic advocate for abstinence and faithfulness, openly admitted to a room full of our nations alleged spiritual shepherds that not only is he not assumed to be the “best Christian”, he’s also clueless as to what his favorite supposed book represents as well. Hilariously, he threw all of this into the public blender not due to any desire to unburden his conscience for being a fraud, but because he just had to brag that someone he deems as important (because they say nice things about him) was giving him unsolicited praise to begin with.
I’ve often said that I have always regarded God as no more than a petty sociopath, owing to his/her/it’s incessant thirst for unbridled worship, but now I’m thinking I should offer up a sincere apology of sorts for this assessment, because God has no corner on the market of Ego where this man-child is concerned.

He may be the only person in history who can peruse reams of savage criticism regarding his idiocy, walk past incensed crowds calling for his ferret-topped head, and watch an analysis of his failures on the news, and have the effect of such pass through his warped intellect as it were corn running through a two-year-old.

And this isn’t the first instance of his full disconnection from the reality of how he’s actually perceived by the populace he routinely fails to serve, as I noted above in regards to the NYT article. Trump recently tweeted a picture of himself playing the violin in the manner of Nero, along with a caption that read: “Who knows what this means, but it sounds good to me.”

Amusingly Trump, due to the fact he has no grasp on history, literature, irony, or self-awareness, had and most certainly by accident, promoted a book titled The American Nero, a critical tome written by Richard Painter, a former George W. Bush appointee who also happens to be a staunch critic of our dumpster fire president.

The meme itself emanated from the Twitter account of one of Trumps’ assistants, whose name is Dan Scavino, and who happens to be one of his former golf caddies, spending his professional hours web-surfing, seeking out any positive mention of Trump, and it’s been alleged his Twitter feed is a virtual blueprint for what information is fed to the Fool who calls himself King. Now when it comes to the art of self-congratulating himself, nobody does it better than this self-tanned piece of human pudding skin who when he looks into a mirror or any reflective surface, sees not only an attractive, successful, ethically erudite, dynamic leader staring back at him, but who also truly believes everyone else sees it too.

Nothing could be further from the Truth, but in Trump’s distorted worldview, reality will always take a backseat to the desires of his Ego, as it’s not the narrative of the factual that matters, but what he can convince his base of cultists is occurring, if only to offset the approaching consequences he may have to face from the ineptness of his impulsivity.

Speaking of which, there was this insightful exchange from a February 2019 interview in which Trump granted an audience with the “failing” New York Times, and its publisher A.G. Sulzberger. Trump, showcasing his particularly vehement commitment to a fusion of self-victimization and largesse, opined that: “I ran, I won, and I’m really doing a good job… I came from Jamaica, Queens, Jamaica Estates, and I became president of the United States… I’m sort of entitled to a great story- just one- from my [local] newspaper.”

Trump stated that even though he was acutely aware that focused scrutiny came with the job, he immediately contradicted himself by noting that: “I get it really bad. I mean, let’s face it, this is at a level that nobody’s ever had before”, thereby setting in bedrock a customary refrain we’ve all become far too accustomed with as his ongoing doomed-to-failure presidency fashions itself out of sheer flop sweat and hubris.

In his opinion, no matter what events have transpired, be they real or as is his penchant, fabricated out of desperation, he is always either the sad victim of fate, never the cause of it, or the grand conqueror, whose legendary and of course, never before seen victory was certainly most assuredly self-propagated. To be quite honest, I’m genuinely surprised that he doesn’t send out a press release every time he has a bowel movement, since after all, he always does when he hires one.

And no matter if it’s justified or not, his voracious void of Ego demands ones willing and unquestionable capitulation to it, hence his comment of “I’m sort of entitled to a great story”. Staying true to his brand of toxicity, he went on to lovingly say that his sycophantic propaganda lapdog Fox News “treats me very well,” added in that NYC’s local television was “so great to me”, but just had to vent that that the New York Times, who if you remember- was currently interviewing him at the time, treated him “so unbelievably terribly.”

As I noted, Trump demands loyalty to him as an expected given, but no personal allegiance will ever be returned by him, regardless of the cause, the person, or the organization involved. I for one, am shocked, shocked I tell you, that he and the Free Press have such a sadly complicated relationship and all, especially when he’s so inclined to not only insult them to their faces, but to act as if by doing so, he’s presenting them with some form of a soon to be appreciated charitable compliment.

The naked manipulation of situations and persons has always been his stock in trade, and while he may present as proof that evolution can go in reverse, he does have a unique ability to échappé around his own internal chaos as if he were a Adderall-addicted descendent of Rudolf Khametovich Nureyev.

Minus the grace, the charm, the badass middle name, the aesthetic beauty, and the rigid discipline of self-control, of course. Why all of this matters, is because at no point in my entire life have I ever experienced this kind of insanity in American politics, past the usual sex/greed/money/drug hypocrisy-laden scandals that politicians like to bathe in. but here, we have one of the worst examples of Humanity, and for some as yet unknown reason, not only has it been given the pass keys to Disneyland, it somehow managed to score a free lifetime VIP pass to Splash Mountain as well.

There are several subtle shades regarding the employment of a Fox to guard the henhouse, but when the sole condition of its working there is to complicity cover up your trail of incompetently murdered chickens, you’re almost bound to have several disturbing lapses of professional ethics, by the by. The Free Press was never intended nor has it ever been implied, that it was to serve and be in league with any organization, governmental branch or legislative individual, nor was it ever stated that its access to the powerful was wholly dependent based its reporting on the same.

In order to be a truly independent entity, it must strive to maintain a zero-tolerance policy on it becoming no more than a weaponized vehicle for agendas or policies outside of its charted purpose.

The Irish statesman and philosopher Edmund Burke once noted that: “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing”, and boy, is that ever so chillingly applicable in today’s political climate, where those who took an oath to protect the laypeople of this country have willingly shelved it for either a taste of highly diluted power, or even more pathetically- because they fear a run of tweeted harangues from a petulant man-child who if he occupied any other position in the land, would find himself in a dark alley fully tuned up into a state of bruised unconsciousness, and most likely sans a few formerly set in place teeth.

And this keenness to be wholly subservient, like the cancer it is, has swiftly brought far too many media outlets to heel under the slimy wingtips of a corpulent dictator in process. Whether it’s fear of losing access to the oval office, a valid concern about being singled out via his social media, or facing the loss of their career, todays Press Corps/hostages is forced to walk that fine line between doing their job ethically, and soothing the Tangerine Toddlers snowflake sensibilities. However, even when one possesses a solid track record of being a staunch loyalist in the past, this does not on any level, afford protection to said career, or guarantee of continuing access to his staged ersatz rallies disguised as press conferences.

Even his contingent booty call Fox News, has at times, inadvertently committed the truly unpardonable transgression of asking questions considered to be far too unpalatable for the Fanta Fascists ego and limited intellect, and have as a consequence, found themselves marked as a contemptuous target by either he or his mindless base of slack-jawed sycophantic admirers.

This by the way, is not a sign of his impulsivity, only the incoherent word salad he presents as leadership is. This wholly Machiavellian capping of journalisms metaphorical canines is key to his focused endeavor in transforming our democracy into the world’s largest banana republic with him firmly set in the center of its power. Think I’m being paranoid?

Well, that is a fair judgement- after all, despite what many historians and other intellectuals of note have declared openly more than should be required, he really isn’t Hitler in the end. He’s just been cribbing Adolf’s study notes and adding a contemporary twist to them, as most arrogant second-handers tend to do.

Today’s immigrants are the Juden of old in his view, those who dare oppose or question his narcissism laden leadership are “Enemies of the State”, he’s hiring a cabal to occupy all levels of governmental authority with faithful partisans, and there is no adversary he fears more than the concept of a truly free and independent press that he cannot possibly begin to charm, manipulate, bully, or control outright.

Sadly, he’s not alone regarding his strong dislike of the Free Press, as a 2018 *Ipsos poll discovered that a multitude of self-identified Republicans accept as Gospel that Trump should possess the sole authority to shutter specific news outlets, despite the Freedom of the Press guaranteed within the Constitution they all deceitfully claim to adore.*[https://www.thedailybeast.com/new-poll-43-of-republicans-want-to-give-trump-the-power-to-shut-down-media]

For those of us who write some form of political or social commentary, these results are hardly shocking , but they do present as a chilling threat to the sanctity if not the future safety of the fourth estate, as those polled willingly showed a definitive bias against the mainstream media and it’s representatives, along with a desire to see castigatory actions against those whose opinions they find objectionable,

This increasingly aggressive dog-whistle that Trump keeps tweeting at his cult of personality, lately known as the Branch Covidians, has led to a disturbingly unhinged poi nt of view among them that they, like Trump, see responsible journalism as the sole cause of Trumps’ numerous failures as president.

As the poll discovered, no less than 43 percent of Republicans so-called, held the opinion that “the president should have the authority to close news outlets engaged in bad behavior.” When asked which media outlets Trump should board up specifically, their picks [insert sarcasm here] amazingly matched Trumps own list of what he has slurred as “Enemies of the People”, that being The “failing” New York Times “fake news” CNN, and of course, The Washington Post, who despite Trumps derisive attacks, and hilariously unintentional misidentification of the Pulitzer Prize for journalism as the “Noble” Prize, still boasts 47 of them on its fireplace mantel.

Moving forward in the mental mire that the GOP faithful wallow in as if it were silk, 48 percent alleged that “the news media is the enemy of the American people”, and four out of every five, a ratio of 79 percent, put forth the oft-repeated and asinine assertion given Trumps’ own actions and statements, that “the mainstream media treats President Trump unfairly.”

Threats, gaslighting, and the shrewdly targeted dissemination of fictions is how he and his ilk have battled the media thus far, and that is straight out of the ol’ pages of the Mama Hitler cookbook, an otherwise inedible tome who’s marketing success relies solely on divisive fear as its main selling point. He who controls the flow, controls the Universe, regardless of whether that’s information or *Arrakis Spice. *[“Spice”, is the name of a drug mined on the imaginary desert world of Arrakis, and which serves as a crucial plot point within the science fiction novels written by Frank Herbert, collectively known as the Dune series. As the narrative unfolds, the most valued commodity in the known universe is “the Spice” (AKA: mélange) which gives its users an extended life span, superior vivacity, and a sense of sharpened awareness. In some humans, it can lead to the gift of clairvoyance, depending upon the measure and the user’s physiology.]

Speaking of fear, one facet that often gets overlooked due to the amount of idiocy that this tangerine trash fire produces with the consistency of the Sharknado and Tremors franchises, is the sheer terror Trump increasingly fails to hold in check regarding being both called out for his trail of incompetence, and for the consequences resulting from being held accountable for the same.

On one hand, it’s chilling to watch this unhinged faux “world leader” who possesses the nuclear launch codes, have yet another one of his trademark meltdowns, and on the other… I so want to see one of those poor reporters stand up and ask: “Donnie, do you need a Capri Sun, a cheese stick and a nap? Because you’re being all kinds of a pussy crankypants.”

This externalized dread of his has been baring its teeth more frequently as of late, due to certain reporters who refuse to get in goosestep with their fellow colleagues, who as I noted earlier, tend to show more belly than Gwen Stefani did in the 90’s. And the best part?

The majority of these journalists who dare rise to challenge America’s Angriest Creamsicle just so happen to be women, one of his most frequently targeted demographics for assault, both physical and verbal. If Karma truly exists, it’s a certain guarantee that she’s not only female, she’s also laughing her ass off in relation to this fact. For all of his bluster, smart women scare the ever-loving bejesus out of him, and it’s hilarious to watch his attempts to maintain his imaginary Alpha status as one serves him his tiny testes raw on a plate.

In a recent press conference/rally, our Liar-in Chief wheezed out the following falsehood: “When somebody’s President of the United States, the authority is total, and that’s the way it’s gotta be. Total. It’s total…” The President of the United States has the authority to do what the President of the United States has the authority to do, which is very powerful. The President of the United States calls the shots.”

Why is this false? Well in a nutshell, it’s because of the annoying to Trump, but valid to Democracy, detail that no president in the entire history of this country has ever possessed any measure of “total” authority, as we not only have three separate, yet equally powerful branches of government, but the democratically elected position of our president  is in no way stated or implied to be either a Sovereignty or in Trumps addled and hopeful fever dreams, a repressive dictatorship.

The governors, mayors and educational district officials who have imposed the critical social limitations of the citizenry under their purview, as well as the temporary shuttering of the public-school system and what are considered to be non-essential businesses, are the only ones who can decide when to revoke those restrictions.

There is NO legislation in our Constitution that openly gives the President any form of authority to supersede any states’ decisions concerning public health. Keep this in mind, however- on the 13th of March 2020, he famously declared: “No, I don’t take responsibility at all,” adding; “We were given a set of circumstances…it wasn’t meant for this kind of an event with the kind of numbers that we’re talking about.

But now, he “has” the authority, an asinine position he almost immediately contradicted less than a day later when he said: ‘I will be speaking to all 50 governors very shortly. And I will then be authorizing each individual governor of each individual state to implement a reopening, very powerful reopening plan of their estate in a time in a manner which is most appropriate, the governors will be very, very respectful of the presidency,’ he then noted; ‘This isn’t me. This is the presidency. The presidency has such a great importance in terms of what we are doing. You can talk about constitution. You can talk about federalism. You can talk about whatever you want. But the best way, I am talking now from a managerial standpoint, to let individual governors run individual states and come to us if they have difficulty and we will help them. The governors are responsible, they have to take charge and do a great job,

This abrupt turnaround just goes to prove that given enough pushback under the guise of a united front, Trumps’ tin-plated bravado will fall apart faster than a flan in a cupboard. At the time of this screeds posting, more than THIRTY THOUSAND Americans have died from the Corona virus, and that number is certainly going to increase, regardless of his desperate attempts to deflect his direct complicity in the mangling of the federal response so called, to its initial stranglehold.

So far, he has, (or tried to) blame the Covod-19 pandemics initially unchecked spread on: the Obama Administration, the WHO, (the health organization, not the seminal British band from the 60’s, but let’s face it, the day is young) Democratic governors for fraudulently alleged mismanagement, federal inspectors general, China, and in an act of true personal cravenness, the doctors and nurses serving on the frontline.

Even more disturbing, if not more certifiably insane, is his continuous call to not only re-open America against all medical advice, but encouraging his Redhatters to defy the necessary “shelter-in-place” orders that are being introduced in an attempt to reduce the pandemics’ current domination over both our economy and our safety.

In fact, here’s an image of that posted lunacy from a guy who once also just had to tweet: “Actually, throughout my life, my two greatest assets have been mental stability and being, like, really smart.

Crooked Hillary Clinton also played these cards very hard and, as everyone knows, went down in flames. I went from VERY successful businessman, to top T.V. Star……to President of the United States (on my first try). I think that would qualify as not smart, but genius….and a very stable genius at that!”

Uh-huh… the very same guy who had to let us all know he was a genius, as it was so obvious from his prior dazzling track record of bankruptcies, failed marriages, fraus\d, settled lawsuits, along with germinating one of the biggest health and economic crises in American history.

Despite all that personal glory, he still felt the need, nay the compulsion, to order his cult of constituents to literally gather in a mass and protest what should be common sense for the rest of us who’s brains actually work, by willingly disobeying the vital protocols set in place to protect society from their sheer ignorance and to an even sadder degree, save their useless lives.

That last part falls under charity of a sort, since the forfeiture of these moronic malcontents would only be a boon to this planet and the future DNA contribution to the human gene pool, of which, they have always resided within the shallow end. Keep this series of tweets in mind, if you would:
as the ultimate proof that the SITTING PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES JUST PROMOTED, IF NOT OPENLY DEMANDED, AN INSURRECTION AGAINST THE LAWS OF THE COUNTRY HE INEPTLY REPRESENTS. How this doesn’t qualify as treason of the highest order, necessitating the immediate implementation of either Article Three of the Constitution or the 25th Amendment, is beyond my comprehension.

For those who are unfamiliar with this aspect of our constitution, Article Three of the United States Constitution establishes the judicial branch of the federal government. Under Article Three, the judicial branch consists of the Supreme Court of the United States, as well as lower courts created by Congress. It also authorizes the courts to handle legal disagreements arising under federal law, along with any other calculated areas. And most relevantly, it also defines Treason under the law.

Requiring that at least two witnesses testify regarding the act of treason, or that the turncoat accused of treason willingly confesses in open court, It also limits the manner in which Congress can penalize those convicted of treason, a transgression for which I think Trump easily checks the boxes for, as it has been prescribed under the law. The 25th Amendment on the other hand, is the most likely option for Trump’s removal other than a truly unhindered election.

Proposed by Congress and ratified by the states in the wake of JFK’s assassination, the Amendment lays out the parameters for replacing both the president and vice president following an incident of event of death, resignation, or incapacitation, be it physical or mental, a condition which I could effortlessly argue applies almost exclusively to the failed mail-order meat salesman who presents himself to the world as if he were Benito Mussolini with a discount spray-tan.

The year 1970 was the first test for this protocol to be enacted, when the Watergate scandal led to the removal of not only Richard Nixon being substituted with Gerald Ford as president, but Vice-president Spiro Agnew as well, who was exchanged for the previous four-term governor of New York, Nelson Rockefeller.

And I for one, feel that the circumstances for removal by this mandate, failing any subversive attempt by he or his enablers to interfere or suspend our legal political process, may be the surefire way to go to excise this walking analog for all that is f**ked up with our country and our long-held values. Now despite my cynicism, there has been a concerted effort of far-too-late by certain elements of the media to wrest control of the dialogue away from the tantrum tossing tinted toddler who calls himself our leader, and it’s literally what they should have been doing since the grotesque mockeries that he ironically refers to as a press briefing began.

What is this brilliant, yet so goddamn obvious solution? Well, ABC, CBS, NBC, and CNN along with a lone NPR station in Seattle who made their decision back in March, have all decided to stop broadcasting these barely-disguised campaign rallies and ego fetes, proclaiming that they are not in the public interest.

Joe Barron, a representative for, and speaking on behalf of, the United Forces Of Broadcasting, said the following in regards to this long-overdue decision: “We at UFB have joined together because we put the lives of Americans over the self-interest of Donald J Trump. It is our belief that his agenda through these press briefings is nothing more than campaigning at the expense of the health of the nation. He doesn’t care about anything but the economy. People need to take priority now.

This man is not a leader. He is an imbecile. Worse than that, he thinks he’s genius! So, he’s giving medical advice that defies medical science and his idiot supporters are actually following it. He’s going to kill people. UFB struggled with this decision. At first, they thought they should push his ideas and let natural selection do its things. Trump’s base would soon disappear and the world would be a better place, but they reluctantly decided that would be wrong. Dammit.

Trump will never see airtime on our networks again.”

Ouch. For an overgrown narcissistic attention-whore like Trump, this expulsion from his most useful bully-pulpit, snidely delivered with an ice-cold helping of bitch-slap, is going to do to his ego what he’s done to the office of the President- face f**k it with a sandpaper condom wrapped around a double-headed-dildo molded from porn legend Ron Jeremys bread and batter, and all without the reward of a nice dinner and pillow talk afterwards.

There is no greater drug for Trump than access to unfettered attention and adoration, and no more painful personal withdrawal for him then when it’s denied outright. However, the rotting floor boards of his carnival pitchman’s’ wagon started caving in a few weeks back, when CNN started fact-checking his press conference statements in real time almost as fast as he said them.

So, how exactly did that work out for our very stable genius with the best brain and highest IQ of any President ever?
Damn… if he was a contestant on Celebrity Apprentice, he not only would have been fired by now, the producers would be calling up Gary Busey and apologizing profusely for implying he was the biggest loon in the room. It’s one thing to distort or lie, as even the most moral among us do it occasionally, that ranging from the white lie of: “No, those acid-washed jeans look great on you” to the far more insidious one of: “Oh yes, you should totally watch the Renegade Cut of Highlander 2”, but to lie about everything under the sun?

Even Satan doesn’t run those kinds of numbers, and he happily cheats at Chutes and Ladders. Or so I’ve been told. So, it’s a well-known fact that Trump is a liar of unprecedented proportion, which really comes as no surprise to anyone whose brain still works, but given his extensive catalog of falsehoods and the years spent compiling it, the most compelling question that might have to be asked in regards to his pathological deceitfulness is this… why is he so bad at it?

Pop psychology author writer Malcolm Gladwell once put forth the theorem of the 10,000 Hour Rule, the underlying concept being that the crucial key to success regardless of the chosen field, is the implementation of practicing a specific task 20 hours a week for 10 years, in order to master it. Many people, including myself have scoffed at this seemingly arbitrary rule pulled from the ether, but one facet of it does ring true- that the devoting of one’s time to a particular endeavor can at the very least, lead to a sense of competence, even if it qualifies as barely passing as marginal.

If I were to be quite honest, I’d like to believe that if I had spent no less than 70 years lying about everything from my wealth to my dick size as I bragged about nailing models no one had ever seen me in public with, I’d come off smoother than oiled silk, and not as the human analog of a stucco bathtub. I literally can’t think of anything more wretchedly funny than someone who looks to be the end result of an experiment gone awry where a group of scientists endeavored to cross-breed a sexually-frustrated sweet potato and an overly tanned velociraptor, but here we are, and somehow they got it to wear a suit and a dead ferret on its head in the end.

This I feel, indicates that either we’re spending too much money in regards to funding science in this country, or not nearly enough, as I’m still waiting for that flying car and jet-pack I was promised as a kid.

There’s quite the puzzling dichotomy at work here concerning the accumulation of Trumps’ staggering and numerous lies- on one hand, they’re easily debunked if not mocked for their obvious slant towards transparent deflection, and on the other, his base swallows them without question, time and time again, no matter how unfounded or insane they tend to be.

Case in point, his comments regarding injecting disinfectant into one’s lungs, for which he later claimed he was “being sarcastic” (he wasn’t) and for which his dimwitted defenders stated that his remarks were “taken out of context” (they weren’t) an absurd point of view that is disproven easily, just by using his own words; “Thank you very much. So, I asked Bill a question that probably some of you are thinking of, if you’re totally into that world, which I find to be very interesting. So, supposing we hit the body with a tremendous- whether it’s ultraviolet or just very powerful light- and I think you said that that hasn’t been checked, but you’re going to test it.

And then I said, supposing you brought the light inside the body, which you can do either through the skin or in some other way, and I think you said you’re going to test that too. It sounds interesting. Right. And then I see the disinfectant, where it knocks it out in a minute. One minute. And is there a way we can do something like that, by injection inside or almost a cleaning. Because you see it gets in the lungs and it does a tremendous number on the lungs. So, it would be interesting to check that. So, that, you’re going to have to use medical doctors with. But it sounds- it sounds interesting to me.”

In all of my 51 years walking this big ball of granite and water, I cannot think of any other person who lies this much, and as noted earlier, so badly, save for *Joe Izuzu and my ex-fiancé. And weirdly, both used to lie about the same thing, that being cars. His lies were for the sole purpose of trying to sell them, and hers was trying to explain why she was always being caught in in the back seat of one having sex with someone who wasn’t me.
As I’ve remarked throughout this screed, the American press has continuously dropped the ball in how it’s handled his ongoing amalgamation of deceit and unchecked hubris, starting from the very beginning of his initial candidacy, and sadly, any attempts to close the barn doors now seems kind of pointless, as this brain-dead horse has not only been running wild for months now with their help, he’s also managed to trample Democracy into a possibly irreversible coma.

So, while I am glad to see these networks and a few select media outlets finally take some responsible action, let’s not forget who gave him millions of dollars’ worth of free advertising exposure in the first place. Sure, some of them may have joined the Fourth estate’s version of AA, but we all still remember who was both vitally crucial and totally responsible for helping him into the chair he never truly earned or deserved to occupy in the first place.

So, media that is partially but still largely responsible for the leadership nightmare we’re currently in, how’d that desperate grab for ratings work out for both the country and your ongoing relationship with our petulantly mad king?

Yep, that was a brilliant stab at acquiring what turned out to be not important access, by sacrificing both your principles and metaphorical testes to the whims of a soiled diaper toddler with impulsivity issues never before seen outside of a fan-fiction bondage-themed novel. Nor can we as what used to be a democratic republic versus a third-rate mango-tinted one, ever thank you enough for your foresight in packaging this demagogue as a refreshingly caustic cultural singularity within the American political structure.

To quote the ironically sarcastic Dr. Peter Venkman from Ghostbusters Two: “Tasty pick, bonehead.” So this is where we find ourselves currently- led by an unhinged ignoramus, socially distanced by a pandemic he helped expand beyond control due to his incompetence, and a free (at-this-time) press that thus far, has been exceedingly uneven if not cowardly, in its limited response to his unfounded and tyrannical attacks.

 Excuse my hyperbole, but these are truly the darkest of times, and the damage that’s presently being wrought within our democracy will take decades to repair, if such a repulsive maiming can be undone at all. And key to this correction will be the dedicated involvement of both the free press but more crucially, the American public, who let’s face it, needs to get off their lazy arses for once and do their goddamn jobs as citizens for a change.

And what is their (and your) collective task, exactly? Well… first off, VOTE, and when you do, understand and believe that your choice does have far-flung consequences. Make your decision based on facts, not emotions or prejudicial views. Be informed. Prevent problems by not electing them into a position of power in the first place. I cannot stress this enough, because thanks to the combined density of Bernie Bros, Hillary Haters, and people just ignoring their inherent responsibility, we wound up with Trump.

Second, hold those in power accountable- call them, email them, write letters, and if that doesn’t have an effect, show up to where they are, regardless of what or where it is- their church, the grocery store, a nice restaurant, or for most republicans, inside the bathroom stall of a bus station with a rough trick named Chaz. Whatever you do, keep the pressure on, no matter the consequences or the time required to do so.

Corrupt politicos are akin to a cockroach on your fridge- they run for cover when you flip the light switch on. If we’re ever going to get this country out from under the ever-expanding shroud of dictatorial darkness, it’s going to involve a combined effort from all of us, and one of our key allies will be the free press, so we need to support them like never before.

Because if we don’t, then we’re not going to have a truly free and United States any longer, just a banana republic gilded in 14k gold, led by the most spiritually corrupt of men, whose compassion, empathy, sympathy, and intellectual curiosity matches the size of his dick- and none of us should ever be cool with that.

“Whoever would overthrow the liberty of a nation must begin by subduing the freeness of speech.” – Benjamin Franklin







Media-ocrity Part 1 (Opiate for the Asses)

Disclaimer: This current screed contains a number of severely and sarcastically harsh opinions regarding organized religion, calls into question the veracity of a Supreme Being, and possesses more than a few statements which could be considered both profane, if not wholly blasphemous, by those who consider themselves deeply religious or pseudo-spiritual. I make no apologies for this, and I will not be issuing any, no matter what kinds of recriminations may occur from such a viewpoint.

Also, threatening me with eternal torture in a place by an entity I don’t believe in, will only result in my engaging in bouts of maniacally mocking laughter, which I will be more than happy enough to do to your face. So please, don’t threaten me with a good time, and endeavor to save your prayers for somebody who is either six years old, or incredibly gullible, thank you.
“The public wants work which flatters its illusions.” – Gustave Flaubert

Hello Blogiteers!

Today is a strange day, for I find myself without a sense of clear direction as to what I’m going to write about. Granted, this has never slowed me down before, but it can still be somewhat vexing, nonetheless. As I sit here at The Little Toad Creek Brewery and Distillery in Silver City, fortified by my standard order of cheeseburger sliders, my Diet Coke (with 3 lemon wedges) and side of fries with Ranch dressing, I realize that as far as the act of falling into a personal rut goes, this one’s kind of awesome.

Not to mention that my favorite office away from the office comes stocked with a pretty decent selection of locally produced spirits, and who couldn’t love that?

Straight-edge incels, that’s who.

And for once, I’m not narrowing that description to just Trump supporters, even if they’ve proven that they definitely like to drink. Arguably, most of what they consume is ignorant Kool-Aid, but I’m certain that the occasional beer just has to make an appearance, if only to act as a balm against an inner monologue that suggests non-stop that man oh man, did you ever back the wrong horse.

Don’t color me as callous, because I am sympathetic to the reality that we all make the erroneous choice from time to time, but JFC, how personally detached from the concepts of Reason and Humanity do you have to be to support this vulgar and inane piece of overly bronzed human pudding skin?

Sure, I may have suggested in my youth that Xanadu was going to sweep the Oscars for Best Picture, Best Actress, and Best Cinematography in 1980, but looking back with middle-aged hindsight, I can begrudgingly acknowledge why they gave those lauded honors to Kramer vs. Kramer, Sally Field, and Apocalypse Now.

And the valid reason can be summed up in just five words: the Academy hates leg warmers. In my opinion, which is also entirely correct, nobody outside of Jennifer Beals in Flashdance has ever worn them better than Olivia Newton-John. Come at me, bro- I’m more than prepared to throw down over this.

 It’s a real shame however, that his base of cultists is unable to monetize all the rationalizations they exude to deflect from the reality of who and what he is. If they could, they’d all be rolling in the wealth they think he’s going to grant them. That of course, being sometime in the very near future, I’m sure. After all, he promised, and you can take that to the bank. Not an American one to be certain, but I’m pretty sure Promsvyazbank based in Moscow, probably has some sort of bulls**t to Rubles trade-in rewards program.

And the best part? Their free pens can also do double-duty as listening devices, so that’s an unexpected plus.

With Odin as my witness, I never thought I’d live to see the day where my fellow Americans would so willingly not only lie down with a flea-infested treasonous whore-monger, but would also sing the praises of his massive character flaws as well. I used to think that with my past sexual history of being easier to ride than a Big Wheel, there’d be no way that I could ever become president, but now?

I’m starting to think the long-suppressed details of my 1993 Mardi Gars trip to New Orleans could be made into a comic book and handed out to Boy Scouts, and I’d still be swept into office by a landslide, because obviously- a lot of people have gotten totally cool with an extensive range of behaviors that previously, always ended in either lawsuits or criminal charges.

For those of you who might be thinking that I’m making a groundless blanket statement, keep in mind that our current “leader” and his slavish base of legislative licking enablers have defended or attempted to rationalize, the following; xenophobia, white nationalism, voter fraud, sexual assault and domestic violence, acts of political violence, pedophilia, treason, collusion, foreign influence on our electoral process, cyber-bullying, bribery, influence peddling, abuse of power, homophobia, rampant narcissism, fabricated falsehoods, half-truths, quid pro quos, willful ignorance, and my personal favorite, supporting a president with disturbingly blatant cognitive issues in relation to his ability to accept or function within, the construct of actual Reality.

Windmill cancer, anyone? How about some repeatedly flushing toilets? Or we could go rake a forest when we get some communal free time, just to keep the wildfire risk low. That is, after we figure out how to collectively close an umbrella, and find the giant armored limousine that’s been parked right in front of us the whole time.

There’s a famous movie quote uttered by Jack Nicholson that goes, “Sell crazy somewhere else. We’re all stocked up here.” And to be honest, a truer statement has not been made as of late, and I certainly don’t expect one to be forthcoming from the conservative element within this country that’s hate-fu**ing America as if it were auditioning for a web-cam series on Pornhub.

Out of all the abominable qualities that this country currently finds itself overstocked on, it’s quite easy to overlook one of the most virulent, due to its uncanny ability to fly under the proverbial radar using its innocuous countenance. I am of course, not referring to the most publicly aggressive issues of our time such as institutionalized racism or the never-ending battle for true gender equality, but something just as insidious in our day to day lives, if not more so, depending on who and where we are as a society at any moment.

I am referring to both the bane and cornerstone of modern POP culture, that being the commoner’s sanctuary known far and wide as mediocrity. While there is an extensive list of underwhelming accomplishments to choose from, some of you may not possess an actual mental image of what mediocrity actually is. In its purest form, true mediocrity is the quality of something that is not very good, which can also be embodied as a person who does not have the special ability to do something well

Envision Tom Cruise being miscast in the 1985 film Legend as a forest boy named Jack, or in a truly puzzling act of “f**k all common sense and logic”, Kevin Costner as Robin Hood. I guess it could have successfully come together if the filmmakers had relocated Sherwood Forest inside the suburb of Aspen, Colorado where Costner currently resides, but that’s all water under the faux stone English bridge, I guess.

And speaking of water, I’d happily watch the extended Director’s Cut of his apocalyptic box office bombs Waterworld and The Postman back-to-back before I’ll ever allow myself to suffer again the unintentionally hilarious spectacle of him butchering the English accent. The last time I heard a vocal performance that cringe-worthy, Trump was talking about the Chinese, and we all could guess beforehand how that was going to turn out.

Whether we’d like to admit it to ourselves or not, mediocrity has always been one of America’s core components, and everyone’s been guilty of engaging in it at some point. For instance, I’m a pretty good cook, but a terrible singer, and an even worse dancer. If one were to judge me as I attempted to do both at the same time, they’d be convinced I was dually strangling a chicken while having an epileptic seizure, and essentially, they would be correct.

There’s a very specific reason why I write and stay behind the camera, and sadly, the fact that I look go**amn amazing in a sequined jumpsuit isn’t enough to stave it off. In the days of yore, mediocrity had it’s own special realm, and was allowed to occasionally wander outside of its borders, on the condition that it was just visiting us, and not moving into the garage. But now?

We’ve not only given up our spare set of house keys, we’ve turned over the guest bedroom to its in-laws as well. If you have doubt, just look at how low the bar has been set to achieve or maintain one’s fame in this country. Talent, skill, ambition, and moral standards are no longer required to establish a truly dedicated fanbase, in fact, those attributes are generally presented as either a hindrance or an occurrence of rarity overall, and as a society, we’re currently paying the heftiest of fees for this repulsive and ignorant as hell point of view.

The origins behind the continuing dumbing down of America as a whole vary widely of course, but I’ll start with one of the biggest, that being the main causeway to how our society currently acquires what it perceives as authentically valid and vital information. I am referring to, as you may have already guessed, the most detrimentally useful resource ever devised by talking monkeys outside of coffee-flavored soda, that being the World Wide Web, AKA; the Internet.

A repository of joy, sorrow, statistics both real and imaginary, hope, hate, indifference, cat videos, memes, stunted debates, and for those who could care less about being emotionally connected to their fellow humans, shades of the pornography rainbow that even the normally stalwart Germans and dispassionate Japanese would take a hard pass on.

And considering their singular adult output ranges from Scheisse videos to Shokushu goukan manga, you just know that there’s some truly disturbing neighborhoods of the Internet you should never even think about visiting often, unless you’ve always wanted to be put on a very special law-enforcement list.

Feel free to Google those terms, because I ain’t ever describing any of this in detail here. As I’ve noted more than once, the lack of knowledge is a truly dangerous thing, especially when it’s packaged as quite the opposite to an intellectually-challenged demographic that doesn’t want it’s core of flawed beliefs even remotely questioned in the first place.

We live in an age where photoshopped images and weaponized paranoia are lauded to be just as valid as definable facts, and woe to those who dare to prove that assertion wrong, as it is always shown to be. One of the glaringly obvious flaws of a generation that’s never been exposed to the rigors of using a card catalog is its inability to do truly unbiased research when necessary. The internet at times, is a little bit like an overprotective parent, in that its tailored algorithms make sure you only get to see what it thinks you want or should see.

In practice, it’s akin to when my dad would take me to our local drive-in to go see that year’s newest James Bond movie- I’ve seen Goldfinger like sixty times, but as for the ponderous swamps that are On Her Majesty’s Secret Service and Never Say Never Again?

Once. Only once. Thank Odin.

Conversely, the Web can also serve as a portal to true personal enlightenment, by granting unfettered access to previously unknown concepts, cultures, and the possible expansion of your world view, when properly utilized. If you had told me in High School that one day, I’d be having a real-time discussion with a fellow Creative in Australia as I lounged comfortably in bed wearing Star Wars pajamas, dry-eating a box of Froot Loops, I would have strongly warned you to stay out of my Ziploc bag of “special” brownies in the future.

Now, as somebody who’s career, hobbies, and social life is highly web-dependent, it would be exceedingly hypocritical of me to tell people that their exposure to all things online should be purposefully curtailed somewhat, but I’m still going to suggest it anyway. Sure, an online life is far easier to manage and debatably less chaotic in relation to your offline one, but it can also present itself as impersonal, shallow, and wholly disingenuous, at the best of times.

And let’s face it, if humble-bragging and selfie-posting ever become Olympic sanctioned sports, this country will sweep all the gold out of those categories. That’s right Romania… you’ll get nothing for your mantel at home. And you’ll like it.

But the Web also has another downside, and that’s the cumulative consequence similar to having a severe addiction issue. I for one, sometimes think that my quitting smoking and sleeping with single-named strippers wearing thigh-boots were much easier things to do than setting down my phone for five minutes unchecked.

If you think I’m kidding, ask my GF, because I’m pretty sure that one day in the near future, I’m going to wake up and find that my Galaxy S8 “accidentally” fell into our home office paper shredder… three times. For me, it’s both entertainment and a yoke of sorts, due to my current living situation. We went from the 5th largest metropolis to a very small town that has no less than twenty-seven different ways to ask you how your mother is doing, not that I’m complaining or anything. It’s actually quite nice living among people who acknowledge that other people co-exist on the same plane at the same time.

How cool is that? Very, actually.

But when you go from being the resident “Mad Boy” of a marginally surviving art scene to being known as the local watering hole’s resident Bard of Snark, there’s definitely an adjustment curve of sorts for you to ride out, and it definitely takes some getting used to. I don’t mean that to come off as anything negative, but it does make you recalibrate your approach to both your life if not your life’s work, to say the very least.

And if there’s one thing I unquestionably needed for quite some time before Ashley and I moved to the pastoral serenity that is Southwest New Mexico, it was a full-on spiritual and emotional rebuild. It’s never been a well-kept secret that I always had issues of one kind or another with my former artistic stomping grounds, but there exist very few people outside of my inner circle who knew just how or why I was feeling so particularly burnt-out and frustrated with the so-called scene overall. In as few words as possible, it was all based on my gut reaction to the maddening inclusion and generalized acceptance of mediocrity in relation to the created works, their presentation, and the marketing of such.

Strangely, following the same path of ineffectiveness that hasn’t worked before and will most certainly not work again, isn’t typically how one achieves success, but you have to give credit to those who doggedly, and consistently, punch down to maintain their status quo in regards to snatching failure from the jaws of victory.

Because if there’s any descriptive that I’d use to accurately underpin America’s current state of mind in relation to its entertainment, spiritual, and politically-based news options, I would have to definitely lay the card of mediocrity on the proverbial table. 

I noted earlier that America has always had a mediocrity problem, but it was generally presented as talk-show filler and fodder, not as substance or as anything to be taken seriously. Think of who and what passes for deserving celebrity status nowadays: actors who can’t act, singers who can’t sing, and online “influencers” whom most of us over the age of 12 have never heard of.

Look at it this way: Old Hollywood gave us Kirk Douglas, Cary Grant, and Audrey Hepburn. And what has New Hollywood gifted us with?  Rob Schneider, Jayden Smith, and Kirsten Stewart. I’m not saying that I despise these people, but I’d definitely unplug their life support to power my DVD player in order to view films that unlike theirs, are worth watching.

If you took their collective body of work, and gathered it all together in a pile, the only way you could make these wretched movies a truly enjoyable visual experience would be to set them and the studio executives who greenlit them in the first place, on fire. And while you’re doing that, feel free to use the screenwriters who are solely responsible for Highlander 2, The Star Wars prequels, Green Lantern, and Battlefield Earth as additional kindling to keep this righteous conflagration stoked.

Just make sure that when the ashes have cooled, you store them in the same place where they hid the shooting script for Alejandro Jodorowsky’s sadly never made version of Dune. And when it comes to the business of producing content for weekly television/streaming, it’s a mixed bag at best, to be totally frank. While in this case, the viewing options have gotten significantly better, the incessant need for said content has led to a still willingly limited standard of near biblical proportion and scope.

For every series like Jack Ryan, there’s The Bachelor. For every Cosmos, there’s the train-wreck that was Baywatch Nights, and for every inspirational Anthony Bourdain travelogue, there’s a long line of plasticine-based Kardashians laying in proverbial wait like the chlamydia in Paris Hilton’s underwear drawer. When one looks back at the dawn of television, the creators of shows that were destined to become classics were really not that much different than the people attempting creative relevance today.

If you examine the brass tacks of the current ongoing cycle of creation at hand, the finish line is exactly the same as it was back then- try to create marketable content, line up some sponsors, and cash a hopefully huge check when all was said and filmed. And if you wound up sculpting an accidental icon at the end, so much the better. The crucial difference in my opinion, is that Television and Cinemas’ early originators were blazing headfirst into unknown territory, versus today’s maddening trend of endlessly rehashing and reanimating stereotypical tropes to the point where the audience not only knows the ending before the show even starts, they can almost quote the dialogue they haven’t even heard yet.

Don’t get me wrong, I love predictability as much as the next slack-jawed mindless entertainment disciple, but throw me a charitably original bone every now and then, would ya? Case in point, the last Star Wars movie- I already knew to expect some awesome lightsaber fights, a few scenes of Kylo Ren moping like the sullen candy-assed Goth he is, some witty repartee from Poe Dameron, and the occasional British prissiness of C3PO, but Rey being able to shoot force-lightning out of her go**amn hands?!?

To that, all I can say is SQUEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

If there’s one characteristic that has not changed since I was a kid, it’s that I am a hugely brazen dork- I love all things Sci-Fi, Super Hero, and Documentary related. It’s pretty much a rock-hard guarantee that if I have the choice between going out or watching a five-part miniseries on how the Universe was formed, I’ll be taking a raincheck in regards to your clambake.

But unlike most people, despite my pessimistic overview on today’s choices for distraction, I’m also not a cultural snob when it comes to how I entertain myself, either. For every time I’ve managed to find myself at a high-end art opening sipping champagne, rest assured that there’s most likely a photo of me chomping on a turkey leg and sucking down a Miller Lite out of a wood flagon at a Renaissance Fair, dressed to the nines as a slutty wench.

What can I say? I like to play to my strengths.

In essence, I have no issue separating gold from its dross, and this stance applies to pretty much everything in my life that serves as a moment of interlude, depending on what my mood may currently be at the time. Somedays, an elegant four-course meal is what I crave, and other days, I’m perfectly fine settling for a lightly toasted ranch-dressing and bacon-bit sandwich. It’s all good. It’s basically the difference between watching the director’s cut of Blade Runner, versus 1980’s Flash Gordon, although both are excellent for a variance of reasons.

Steak and potatoes versus a sauerkraut-chili dog, by way of analogy, as it were. Granted, a little celluloid cheese every now and then would be considered hardly a societal concern by most people, but as it does make up a sizeable portion of the offerings to be found within today’s streaming platforms and online, the risk does exist that constant exposure to malevolent thought slickly packaged as entertainment or worse, as a factual educational dialogue, can have severe ramifications that survive far beyond the pale of the immediate.

Once a virulent Jinn escapes from its lamp, it’s damn near nigh impossible to put it back in, as history has shown us time and time again, and with the advent of the World Wide Web, it’s also disturbingly possible to spread this rabid disinformation literally at the speed of light.

Not for lack of better examples, for there are many to be found, but when I log onto Netflix or Amazon these days and see that numerous “documentaries” exist about Bigfoot, alien abductions, the Bermuda Triangle, the so-called 9-11 coverup, pro anti-vaccine propaganda, time travel, how the Clintons are serial killers, the Democratic Deep State, dimensional doorways disguised as pyramids, and my personal favorite- how the Earth is flat.

I sometimes wonder if I should pray for Humanity or for the asteroid known as 99942 Apophis to arrive ahead of it’s projected timetable of April 13, 2029, and save me both the trouble and the possible wear and tear on my proudly heathen knees. Perhaps due to the fact that I tend to read so much, I’m all sorts of critical when it comes to my choices in distractive entertainment. As previously noted, I have no issue with lowbrow cheese as a rule, but I draw the line when it comes to having my intelligence willingly insulted.

For instance, the morass that was the god-awful 2001 movie Swordfish starring John Travolta, is notable for a few reasons, the first being Travolta creating a villain archetype he’d go on to rehash in several far more superior films, albeit with a less ridiculous hairstyle, and second; because the studio fairly thought a shot or two of Halle Berry in lingerie and reading topless could save this convoluted quagmire of clichés.

Now don’t misconstrue my opinion, because there’s nothing I could possibly enjoy more than a half-naked woman comfortably reading fine literature when it’s essential to the plot, but not when it’s thrown in as a ham-handed distraction from mediocrity, as is seemingly the case with a majority of the content that Hollywood is apt to produce these days.

Put it this way- I’m more than willing to suspend my belief that an 11 year old boy who drowned at Camp Crystal Lake due to counselors who were supposed to be watching him having sex instead, and I’ll even accept that he came back from the dead having been transformed into a six-foot-five unstoppable killing machine, but that’s where I say enough is enough.

I refuse to believe however, that the first thing anybody would do after discovering that one of their friends has been halved with a machete, is grab a flickering candle, instead of a baseball bat, and go looking for whomever did it. Or even worse, decide that’s the perfect time to go for a solo skinny-dipping session in the middle of the deep dark woods. I’m not expecting a Shakespearian tragedy by any means, but at least create some characters who, due to their lack of common sense, don’t make me happily root for their soon to be killer, would ya?

On the upside, according to *Smithsonian Magazine, more people went to libraries, than the box office last year, so maybe the odious tide of anti-intellectualism in this country is finally starting to turn. And I really hope this trend continues, because I for one, cannot handle yet another Adam Sandler cinematic eyesore, or even more terrifying, a full-on reboot of Battlefield Earth starring Tommy Wiseau and Owen Wilson. *[https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/americans-went-library-more-often-movies-2019-180974091/]

Don’t laugh- there has to be somebody who’s pitched it at least once, and you just know that out there somewhere, is also a director or studio who believes that they can remake Gigli, and turn it into a blockbuster, if they could only just get Andy Dick and Paris Hilton on board.

Sadly, when it comes to the other panacea that America turns to when it’s diet of bread and circus fails to sustain it any further, it’s the blatantly corrupt cash-grab and snake-oil mediocrity bazaar better known as organized religion. Before any of you start lighting torches and sharpening your designer IKEA pitchforks, let me just state that I truly have no solid grievance with persons of uncontaminated faith.

I do however, have a colossal objection to people who abuse the Word as a permissive vehicle to act inhumanely upon their own personal biases in a means to shirk their willing complicity in such divisive acts. We’ve all gone to a detractor’s Facebook profile to see what type of person we’re dealing with, and discovered to our collective amusement that in such cases where said persons self-identify as “Christian”, that their profile usually looks as if a Hobby Lobby blew up in close proximity, and scattered the resultant crafty debris all over their page.

I don’t know who owns the usage copyrights for American flag emojis and the #Blessed, but if they ever started charging for it, they could buy their own planet complete with a fully-loaded space armada, thanks in large part to these hallowed hypocrites. As is true with most intimate relationships, corporatized Faith tries to discourage invasive questioning about its base tenets very much in the same way I successfully avoid my girlfriend’s queries about why my abode was once known as “Wayne’s Home for Wayward Strippers”.

For those of you who are curious as to why that was, let me just clarify that I ran a fairly effective localized community outreach program for independent erotic dancing contractors, and leave it at that. And with the advantage of 20/20 hindsight, engaging consistently in this sort of hands-on charity work can lead to one being branded as somewhat of a rogue, although I’ve always felt that valuation in my humble opinion, was a tad bit harsh, if not wholly inaccurate.

However, the fallout of such doesn’t always remain contained, and as proof, here is a sadly true but still somewhat humorous, side story. I once had a conversation with my now-estranged father regarding the person I was seeing at the time, which was prior to the current relationship I’ve been in for the last eleven years. When my dad had asked about how things were going and what she did for a living, I said that things were fine, and that she was a “professional dancer” as she was and still is, a professional ballroom competitor and dance instructor.

So naturally, given my past history, my father asked “what club does she work at?”, and I had the joy of replying curtly with the following: “Arthur Murray Dance Studio… perhaps you’ve heard of it?”. I won’t speak for you, but that kind of awkward silence doesn’t come with a price tag on it, let me tell you.

In regards to uncomfortable pauses, one usually follows whenever I start delving into the minutiae of those who possess an obviously hypocritical sense of Faith.  You know the ones… people who like to brag openly and endlessly about their personal relationship with God, but yet, display no actual virtues resulting from such an interaction? Praising the Lord one moment, while blithely posting several examples of bearing false witness the next, these holier-than-thou malingerers are the quintessential reason why I’ve always rooted for the lions in gladiator movies.

As it was noted above, I truly have no solid grievance with persons of uncontaminated faith, for when it’s used as either a crutch or shield, even I, the resident cynical agnostic, can see the positive side of such usage. But when it’s wielded as a sword to control or harm those whom you disagree with, rest assured that you and I are going to lock horns, and I will make it metaphorically possible to visit your Sky-Daddy in spirit, if not in person, far sooner before you ever expected to do so.

And that is not a promise, that is a certified guarantee. Right as rain, and as wrong as a man-bun.

However, religious hypocrites aren’t anything new, and it could be debatably argued that religion was never intended to be anything more than a subtle methodology who’s end goal was to control an ignorant and oft-abused populace, who if left unfettered, might seek out their own balance to power. It’s rather brilliant, when you give it serious pause.

Tell the uneducated to live a virtuous life, instill rules that harshly condemn any inquisitorial curiosity regarding the illogical premise, and preach ceaselessly that they will experience the bliss of being rewarded eternally via the conduit of a magical sky kingdom, for their blind non-questioning conformity. Once they shuffled off the mortal coil, that is. Oh, and definitely don’t forget to demand that they tithe whatever they can and can’t afford, as God for some reason, apparently requires lots of investment capital and petty cash.

Which sort of makes sense when you think about it, given all the absurd legal challenges that modern Christianity likes to foist upon our society from time to time. It’s fairly obvious that God would require an army of lawyers, and since there are none to be found in Heaven, bussing them up from Hell for a client consultation on a Monday has got to be bloody expensive in the long run.

But the regurgitating blathering sheep that spew such inanity, much in the manner of the most devoted of Trumpanzees, are only the end-product of the Jesus pimp industry, which markets eternal salvation very much in the same way that Ivory sells soap and my most hated ex posts her weekend rates. And from what I’ve read in some of the best bathrooms, they’re apparently quite reasonable for the service packages offered.

Capitalism at its finest, if I do say so myself, and I most certainly do. Speaking of such, what passes for a personal moral code these days, is no more than an explicitly marketed Ponzi-scheme that targets our monkey brains hive-mind, and plays upon our fears, guilt, and superstition. The purpose of this is so that those directing it from above can fuel a lifestyle that Jesus would only not be disgusted by, but would most likely result in his trashing the lobby of the mega-church that supposedly reveres him and his teachings.

That is, if said “church” allows brown people in the door in the first place. Thank himself that Jesus, despite being a full-blooded Jew born in ancient Bethlehem, could easily pass as a WASP from Connecticut, otherwise he’d still be waiting outside in the parking lot.

I’ll be addressing these practitioners of the Profit Gospel in a bit, but for now, let me get back on the proverbial track. When I was a kid back in the early 70s, church was just a weekly obligation forced upon me by my parents- my Mom specifically, as my Dad was always more of a lapsed Lutheran, and sort of just went along with her sense of Catholicism, as one who just wants peace and quiet is apt to do.

Quite frankly, I never understood why we had to be there. If God was omnipotent, why did we as a group, have to get all dressed up and come to a specific place to genuflect and kiss his ass? Does a church just have a far better Wi-Fi connection to the Sky-man hotline, and if so, what was the point of my daily praying at home if my call couldn’t get through?

Ever since I left my preordained faith, somewhere in my teens, I’ve always regarded God as an absent Creator at best, and as a petty sociopath at worst. Not to mention, he/she/it always struck me as something of a needy drama queen as well, because seriously… who needs that much focused affirmation just to get by? And yes, I will definitely explain my reasoning for this, lest some of you more reactionary types think you might want to send me to Valhalla via a case of rigged to explode Ding-Dongs, which quite honestly, is a trick I would totally fall for.

If one were to dispassionately dissect the premise of an all-powerful and all-seeing deity, with a cynically logical eye, they’d have to view the belief in such with the same way one generally regards lauded actor Gary Busey. On the surface, it seems highly entertaining and harmless, but when you take the time to open the Ark of the Covenant, you come to realize that collectively, it’s just a cheaply gilded box of fables and threats, designed to control and deceive the gullible, the frightened, and those who need an immune to criticism underpinning for their conceited self-righteousness.

And as a rule, it most definitely will melt your face off if you dare try to assert it’s nothing more than that. If you think I’m being overly dramatic, just think of every time some celebrity or politician has had to begrudgingly apologize to the Fantastically Fraudulent Faith Brigade for issuing a flippant or sometimes deliberate, comment they’ve made regarding organized religion.

I’ve always found this overblown sense of petty offense odd, considering that their all-powerful deity of damnation is supposedly beyond all mortal questioning and reproach, but yet strangely, still requires the deployment of manipulated minions to speak on his behalf. And boy, do they ever speak for him, even though there’s seemingly never any correlation to what he had Humanity write down, and what they do instead, but I’m fairly certain that’s really more of a communication issue than anything else, like say a sense of rampant personal bias or inherent hypocrisy, of course.

And also feel free to ignore the factoid that despite the recorded history of there being anywhere from 8,000 to 12,000 gods who’ve been worshiped on this planet, grouped into nine archetypes, based solely on divergent doctrinal characteristics, only theirs is the “true God”, and in a coincidental twist of Fate, their chosen god’s partialities and flaws of character just happen to not only mirror their own point of view almost seamlessly, but also allows for the flexibility of cherry-picking what rules they choose to follow, as is if they were grabbing a bite at Golden Corral.

I don’t know about you, but that kind of fortuitous luck makes me wonder if these people should consider investing in some lottery tickets long before they think of attending Sunday services.

Speaking of winning the lottery, it’s also an open secret that next to selling me Ding-Dongs, prostituting Jesus may be one of the easiest ways to amass ill-gotten wealth from those who are devotedly trusting. This detestable passion play, which uses the established fear-stoking of organized religion as a means to camouflage it’s shell game of graft, is also known as Prosperity theology, AKA: the prosperity gospel or seed faith.

The cornerstone of this doctrine is an easily exploited belief by those of unscrupulous intent, which targets its parishioners by proclaiming that God himself will endow a financial blessing, but only if donations to their specific religious cause are consistently given. These modern-day flock fleecers claim to be loyal servants of God, but the only entity they truly worship and outwardly represent is Mammon, whom medieval writers commonly interpreted as either an evil demon or god. He/it is referenced by Jesus in his famous Sermon on the Mount, noting that: “You cannot serve both God and mammon.”

The term also appears in The Gospel According to Luke, as a descriptor of the debasing influence of material wealth, and which is conveniently disregarded by the false prophets who promote this corruption of the Word as Faith in its purest proactive form. Disparaged by religious leaders from numerous denominations of faith, the movement has been tarred as reckless, endorsing idolatry, and as being in opposition to established scripture, along with accusations of being actively engaged in the deliberate exploitation of the poor.

Launching its initial incursion in America during the 1950s, this tainted theology expanded its influence considerably due to the rise of the public’s interest in 1980s televangelism, and has only gained a disturbingly robust momentum in the years since. Some of its more effective hucksters such as Todd Coontz and Benny Hinn, have found themselves facing serious legal charges ranging from check-cashing schemes to federal tax evasion, crimes which when given the influx of steady and untaxable revenue, hardly comes as a surprise.

An absolute cash flow corrupts absolutely, and all that.

If you were raised to be religious or grew up in a religious family, (there is a difference) you’re probably familiar with what Jesus represented, and it sure as the place where these guys will end up for Eternity if you believe in that sort of thing, wasn’t about material wealth. To quote Matthew 19:24, “And again I say unto you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.”

For the layman, this can be directly translated as an edict that you can’t buy your way into Heaven using physically acquired wealth, as God doesn’t accept cash, checks, credit cards, or participate in that FastPass system that Disney has in place at all of its resorts and theme parks. Or maybe God just likes seeing camels suffer. Either/or, as he/she/it tends to have mercurial mood swings at best.

There is of course, a major loophole for us Catholics, as we like to present our accruement of good deed chits when we show up at the gates, and those are as valuable to God as a roll of duct tape and a box of paper clips is to MacGyver.

And the best part? It also applies to recovering Catholics as well, so long as we apologize for everything we’ve done on our deathbed. How do I know this? My priest told me so when I was a kid, and if there’s one thing Catholic clergyman as a whole are known for, intentionally misleading young impressionable boys wouldn’t be among them, I’m sure. But the deliberate deception that fuels the Profit gospel celebrant’s hypocrisy essential to keeping the future mansions and private jets rolling in, never stops demanding even more sacrifices from its congregation.

After all, while Jesus may be the savior of all mankind, he’s apparently really bad at personal budgeting, and is dependent on you to cut his emissary on Earth a sizeable check to help keep him in the designer sandals and bespoke knee-length tunics he’s known for rocking like Dokken back in the day.

Given the naked greed and weak moral rationalization inherent within this movement, it may be the one time I ever give the Bronze-Age book of handed-down fairy tales that organized religion touts as both a cure-all and hammer a full mulligan, as it literally contradicts everything these capitalistic faux Christians preach.

And yes… I’m looking at you, Joel “won’t open my church to those who need shelter” Osteen. If another natural disaster hits Houston again, I hope the same people you willingly turned your spine-free back on show up en masse at your 17,000 square foot 10.5 million dollar mansion, with its six bathrooms, five fireplaces, and separate guest and pool houses, and set up their yurts on your two acres as if they were attending Burning Man.
And I most definitely hope that they’ll raid your fridge, while they’re overstaying their welcome, as well.

But Joel isn’t the only Galilee grifter who unethically profits from the dumbly devoted, he’s just one of the better-known ones, due to his television show, his books, and his line of branded merchandise, which ranges from T-shirts to, and I kid you not, custom chalkboard art. Just like Jesus would sell, if only to prove to Joseph and Mary that graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Mixed-Media Arts wasn’t a total waste of his time and their *Denarius. *[Silver coins used as currency during the time of Jesus]

Sure, he’s known far better for that whole Son of God connection, but his Instagram and Pinterest were amazing, and nobody has ever come close to making those yarn baby Yodas quite like he has, hands down. Or in his case, nailed up.

Other deacons of disreputability championing the theology of milking profit from those seeking eternal salvation, include: sex-scandal plagued Oral “God will call me home” Roberts, financially scandalized Robert “Being poor is a sin” Tilton, 60M jet-plane scandalized  Creflo “The Devil is trying to discredit me” Dollar , and current “spiritual advisor” to observably non-Christian and evangelical masturbatory fodder icon, Donald Trump, the one and only Paula “To say ‘no’ to President Trump would be saying ‘no’ to God” White.

And sadly, that is a factual quote from someone who not only has the ear of the conceivably most unstable President in US history, but who also likes to claim that she is in fact, not a preacher of the prosperity gospel, maintaining emphatically in a 2016 interview with The Christian Post that: “I do not believe in the ‘prosperity gospel’ as I’ve been accused of believing it, I do believe that all good things come from God, and I also believe that God teaches us so much through our suffering.”

Despite her assertion, this falsehood is easily disproven by her actions and the repeated demands that she makes of her soon to be financially shorn flock of gullible sheep. Take this loathsome nugget of not-in-it-for-the-money faux sermonizing, where White opined to her followers that if they dared to portion part of their income to pay their electric bill, they were doing no less than worshipping Florida Power and Light (FPL) as if they were God him/she/it/self.

Let that inanity sink in. Feel free to take all the time you need to process the sheer hubris of its gall, and as you do that, enjoy her non-profit-based spiritual guidance: “Instead of writing [that check] to the house of God as I’m instructed to, then what I’m saying spiritually is, ‘FPL, I have now established a spiritual law that put you first. So, FPL, save my family, FPL, deliver my drug addicted son. FPL, kill this cancer that doctors say is in my body.” All I can say after this is wow, because words actually have failed me at this point.

If she gets this vexed at you paying your basic household bills, just imagine how furious she’s going to be when you’re buying food that wasn’t pre-approved by her accountants.

It’s this kind of pretentious fraudulence that makes me truly nostalgic for a mob of old-timey *Hexenjäger to show up and start pretending they’re doing the one true God’s work once again. They wouldn’t be, but as a society, we’d at least be happily rid of a blatantly false prophet, and I’d finally have a positive use for all of that wood scrap that’s been building up in my studio as of late. *[“Witch Hunters” in German.]

Real problems require real solutions, based on a plan grounded in logic, and this approach should always be the go-to, not the afterthought. The concept of banking on magical thinking to rectify one’s issues always calls to my mind Loki’s rejoinder to Black Widow in Marvel’s The Avengers: “This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer… PATHETIC!”

And no, I don’t really care if this POV offends you one iota- mindlessly praying for a fantastical conclusion to a reality-based dilemma is literally the least effective thing you can do to attempt some form of alteration to a negative situation, and it HAS NEVER WORKED. FOR ANYONE OR ANYTHING. I will add one small caveat to my cynicism here however, and that is this- if prayer gives you the strength to get though the personal trauma that Life dispenses the same way that Costco hands out cheese samples, more power to you. Comfort is comfort, after all, and even I won’t mock that.

But if you can’t rely on your “God” to stop school shootings, homelessness, war, poverty, sexual assault, Justin Bieber albums, and pedophilia committed by your chosen deity’s own employees, then why in the H-E-double hockey sticks, would you ever place your faith in that he/she/it would assist your team in winning the Super Bowl, cure your cancer, or finally convince your girlfriend to dress up as Wonder Woman on your birthday?

Look, I get it. Being responsible for your own actions sucks, as does suffering the slings and arrows of unfortunate fate, but that isn’t an excuse to give the steering wheel over to the always empty seat next to you. Nor, is it a valid justification for the creation of a deflective scapegoat either, as has been eternally done via the construct of the ultimate bad-boy Satan, who conducts his infernal business under the guise of various names or aspects, depending on the theology you ascribe to

The list is as follows: Abaddon, King/Angel of the Bottomless Pit, the Adversary, Morningstar, Lucifer, the Infernal, the Antichrist, the Beast, Beelzebub, the Great Deceiver, The Devil, Son of Perdition, The Fallen Star, The Enemy, Father of Lies, and according to British comedian Rowan “Mr. Bean” Atkinson, “Toby”, because apparently, Satan likes to keep things “informal as well as infernal”.

The majority of these were obviously crafted by a severely overachieving evangelical public relations department, intent on laying the blame for their all-knowing Saviors gaffes on a hopefully far less likeable deity, hence why Hells’ marketing division countered this manufactured slander by making sure it cornered the market on that whole Sex. Drugs, Rock and Roll thing, to boost its leaders’ street cred.

And let’s face it, we all know that Angeline Jolie isn’t batting for Heavens’ baseball team, so I think we gotta give Ol’ Scratch some serious props for that heroic recruitment effort, methinks. That’s a dedicated administrator who definitely knows his customer demographic, and eventually is going to get Roma Downey onboard too. Count on it. In author Neil Gaiman’s graphic novel masterwork Sandman, Satan is a supporting, yet vital, character throughout the tales’ canon, both hindering and advancing the storyline, depending on the need of the situation at hand.

At one point, he decides to resign his Lordship overseeing the day-to-day running of Hell, eventually coming to Earth for a series of related adventures. Portrayed as a highly complex character, Sandman’s interpretation casts the Morningstar in an entirely new light, no pun intended, or implied.

However, there is one exchange between Satan and Morpheus, who is the Lord of Dream, that I’ve always liked, to the point where I went and ultimately had the comic panel art depicting said conversation framed and hung in my home studio, and it goes as follows:

“You also rule a world, Morpheus… A world of sleepers and dreamers, of stories. A simple place compared to Hell. I envy you. Can you imagine what it was like? Ten billion years providing a place for dead mortals to torture themselves? And like all masochists, they called the shots.

‘Burn me.’ ‘Freeze me.’ ‘Eat me.’ ‘Hurt me.’ And we did. Why do they blame me for all their little failings? They use my name as if I spend my entire day sitting on their shoulders, forcing them to commit acts they would otherwise find repulsive. ‘The Devil made me do it.’ I have never made any one of them do anything. Never. They live their own tiny lives. I do not live their lives for them. And then they die, and they come here, having transgressed against what they believed to be right, and expect us to fulfill their desire for pain and retribution. I don’t make them come here.

They talk of me going around buying souls, like a fishwife come market day, never stopping to ask themselves why. I need no souls. And how can anyone own a soul?

No… they belong to themselves. They just hate to face up to it.”

And therein lies the rub of the matter, as Satan doesn’t solely exist just as an example of what not to emulate, he also happens to be the go-to pretext for why bad stuff happens to “good” people, and why the wicked are compelled to do what they do. You can’t have Good without Evil, you can’t have the Light without the Dark, and you can’t sell Salvation without Damnation, or Ding without Dong, that’s for sure.

Marketing is the engine which powers modern religion today, no more, no less. But as long as we’re diving into worthwhile issues, let’s discuss the nature of the free will supposedly “gifted” to us by God as discussed by his least enamored former employee, and how the utilization and consistent practice of such, really doesn’t work towards furthering the best interests of the dividend deacons that I’ve acknowledged previously.

Free will is defined as: “The freedom of humans to make choices that are not determined by prior causes or by divine intervention.” So, what does our alleged Lord and Savior do if you decide to willingly use the “choice” he/she/it granted you? Well… like most heavenly decrees to be found in the Giant Book of Fairytales, it’s contradictory passive-aggressiveness at best, outright hypocrisy at worst.

From Romans 13:2: “Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves.” Or peruse this not-too-subtle threat from Galatians 5:16-17: “So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want.”

 In so many words, God is basically admitting: “Here is a flaw that I purposely designed and put into you, so if you do dare to embrace it, I’ll just rationalize my sending you to a place of eternal pain and suffering, forever cast out and far-away from the grace of my sight and presence as the end result of something that’s entirely your fault, and not mine.”

Without question, God still does the best Marquis DeSade cosplay I’ve ever seen, hands down, and then adds a twist that even Ron L. Hubbard couldn’t have devised in his most fevered scheme dream. But considering God’s track record of hypocrisy, misdirection, posturing, half-truths, and overall pettiness, I just have to ask a question in regards to the loaded threat that he’s held over the heads of Man since the Garden, and that is this- is that gun of damnation even loaded?

And if so, would he actually have the guts to pull the trigger? Keep in mind that he flooded the Earth after his first narcissistic version of the Matrix failed to produce the worshippers, he thought that he truly deserved, and even then, still felt the need to keep a family of subservient bootlickers around to sing his praises. And it only gets more screwed up from there, as we will discover.

From Genesis 6:5–7, King James Version: “And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And it repented the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart. And the Lord said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth; both man, and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air; for it repenteth me that I have made them.”

Now, let’s unpack all of this, shall we? You have an omnipotent and vengeful Creator, who due to his own purposeful manufacturing flaw, decides to reboot the entire system, and rather than take some time and back-up a few vitally needed add-ons, chooses to wipe the Earths’ hard drive as if it was no more than the celestial version of Windows XP.

And to be fair, I can almost understand that to a very limited degree, as more than a few of my creative endeavors have either met the office shredder or the occasional bucket of paint thinner, but even then, I just don’t get rid of everything. I’d be a sociopath if I did, as there’s apt to be a component or two that’s wholly salvageable in the end. So, you want a kingdom full of new subjects, that’s cool, as you are the deity in charge, but seriously… what pray tell, did the wildlife do to deserve the same fate as the wicked flesh fiends?

Was there a particularly atheistic koala bear lazing around in Australia somewhere, watching furry-porn, sleeping with rent-by-the-hour Care Bears, and using the pages of the Bible to polish his collection of graven images?

Because otherwise, Old Testament God is just having a toddler’s candy-aisle meltdown. I’m also not too comfortable with a certain set of instructions that God issued to Noah, given after he and his family were deposited back on dry ground, as it’s kind of creepy and awkward, very much in the way that watching 50 Shades of Gray with both sets of your grandparents would be.

Once again, we reference the Good Book, this time citing the lone passage from Genesis 9:1- “And God blessed Noah and his sons, and said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth.” Why is this disturbing, ask those thankfully few of you who seemingly lack the ability to do math and have obviously never read Flowers in the Attic? Once again, let’s look at what the good book says, as it’s just full of… let’s just say interesting, if not downright improbable, details.

Verbatim from the Book of Genesis, King James version: “In the six hundredth year [sure…] of Noah’s life, in the second month, the seventeenth day of the month, the same day were all the fountains of the great deep broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened. And the rain was upon the earth forty days and forty nights

And God spake unto Noah, saying, Go forth of the ark, thou, and thy wife, and thy sons, and thy sons’ wives with thee. Bring forth with thee every living thing that is with thee, of all flesh, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth; that they may breed abundantly in the earth, and be fruitful, and multiply upon the earth. And Noah went forth, and his sons, and his wife, and his sons’ wives with him: Every beast, every creeping thing, and every fowl, and whatsoever creepeth upon the earth, after their kinds, went forth out of the ark. And Noah builded an altar unto the Lord; and took of every clean beast, and of every clean fowl, and offered burnt offerings on the altar.

And the Lord smelled a sweet savour; and the Lord said in his heart, I will not again curse the ground any more for man’s sake; for the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth; neither will I again smite any more every thing living, as I have done. While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease. And God blessed Noah and his sons, and said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth.”

I have so many questions here, but I’ll start with the easy ones first, and I’ll toss them out as my consciousness flows. Starting with: Noah was 600 years old, and nobody in his village thought that was odd or that he was a demon? What did the animals eat? Why were those animals in particular chosen? Were they all devoted Catholics who tithed consistently? How did the animals from Australia make it to the middle east? Did they fly Qantas?

If the Earth had been flooded, and killed every living creature and plant species, what did Noah and his clan live off of? Could there have been a celestial version of Grubhub that we weren’t made aware of? And if so, would Noah have had to tip the angel who delivered it? And because my brain tends to work in weird ways, what exactly would be the correct percentage, and where would the angel put it, as celestial robes are usually pocket-free?

And finally, if not most disturbingly, there were only eight people noted on the Ark: Noah, his wife Emzara, his three sons, Shem, Ham, Japheth, and their three wives, Sedeqetelebab, Na’eltama’uk, and Adataneses, So, if we are to believe this tale that has more plot holes in it than the Resident Evil movies, all of Humanity stems from an abhorrent effort towards committing adultery at best, and dedicated inbreeding at worst.

However, when given serious pause, this does somewhat explain just how your average Evangelical can openly support Trump- after all, they already have a track record of devotedly obeying the declarations of a petty and mercurial sociopath, so I would have to hazard a guess that breaking the stringent laws of morality and nature are perfectly fine if the so-called Creator opts to gives you a mulligan regarding Commandments six and nine.

Can you even imagine the awkwardness of the conversation that would take place regarding this edict?  How does one even begin to open an impersonal discussion in regards to hooking it up with both of your brother’s wives? And I’d also have to ask, given how juvenile my gender can be, if the inevitable joke was made about Adataneses and Na’eltama’uk being the bread in a “Ham sandwich”, because you know… somebody had to be thinking about it.

 Look at it this way- just think of how hard it would be to convince your significant other to engage in a threesome with that hot barista from your local Starbucks, and then add a generous helping of the “we’re all family” horsey sauce from Arbys’ on top of all that. Sure, it’s sort of mildly spicy and makes the repulsiveness easier to swallow, but you’re still going to be paying homage to the porcelain god come two A.M., whether you like it or not.

And when it’s over, you’re now going to have two women who will openly joke about that thing you do so badly, and I’m not referring to your inability to juggle several things at once. Oh wait, in a roundabout fashion, I totally am. Granted, while it’s sometimes been noted that I can be a rather clever linguist, even I don’t think my pitch to repeatedly engage in sexual congress on the orders of God with my brother’s sweet potato of a wife would ever take flight.

And they’re both hardcore born-again Christians, which let’s face it as a demographic, are so separated from reason and logic, that you can sell them bottles of “Lourdes Holy Water” on the strength of their Faith alone.
The reality is exceedingly simple here. If I can’t get my girlfriend to hook up with the stunning café au lait soul sister working behind the counter on the basis we’re going to get free lattes for life, then no way in New Jersey that these three splooges were ever going to willingly trade their wives as if they were Pokemon cards. Just my two cents.

However, one thing not addressed in the Good Book of Inanity, is also the glaring fact that once again, the all-powerful, all-knowing Creator who restarted the world from scratch driven by his own selfish needs, still somehow managed to get it wrong a second time. If your previous subordinates succumbed to the temptations of the flesh, why not just get rid of all of them, Noah’s brood included, and create Utopia anew?

 After all, if you’re the one pouring the foundation, why not use the best metaphorical rebar as a precaution? Doesn’t make sense, does it? Unless of course, what you’re truly seeking is the ability to use your prior displayed act of terrifying pettiness as a tool of control, over a population that otherwise would rob you of said influence by simply forgetting you, much in the manner of how Mtv now likes to pretend it never knew who Winger or Thomas Dolby were in the first place.

The only way to stay in charge, whether it’s politics or as upper management, is to control both the flow of information, and the reaction of the people who receive it. Hence, the vitriolic response from organized religion to any form of truly free thinking that’s presented in opposition to it.  

The church may no longer have the impunity to physically burn it’s self-declared heretics at the proverbial stake, but it will, and has done so using the newly weaponized tools of mass media.

Are you a career politician? Well, you better be publicly Christian, because otherwise, how will we ever ascertain that you have morals? Because when you’re eventually caught in an act of illicit influence peddling, graft, or more likely, discovered with a rough trick named Chaz in a Motel 6, we’ll need you to tell us Jesus forgave you, so we can too. But if you identify as Muslim, your prophet and faith is false, unlike the one surrounding Jesus, whom oddly, the Quaran does recognize as a holy prophet, so at least there is some form of decorous professional courtesy granted there, which is kind of nice, when you think about it.

Maybe you’re openly LGBTQ? Then obviously, you’re a sick sexual deviant who’s out to recruit our morally outstanding children into the fashion and designer industries. And you can just ignore the fact that Jesus never mentions it once, or that it’s nowhere to be found on the top ten no-no list either. Sure, God may be arrogant, judgmental, mercurial, illogical, and self-righteously sullen, but at least he’s no fan of Queer Eye.

Are you a woman who wants autonomy over your own body? Well sorry baby-killer, but according to Timothy 2:11-15, you’re out of luck, because your only value as a woman and your only route to salvation is to be a vessel, and a quietly meek one at that.

To quote the Word: “Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence. For Adam was first formed, then Eve. And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression. Notwithstanding she shall be saved in childbearing, if they continue in faith and charity and holiness with sobriety.”

 In essence, shut your yap, and open up that gap, because Humanity being born into Sin was all your fault entire, and cannot be attributed to the sociopath who was the one who created the concept of original Sin in the first place.

Perhaps you’re a proud atheist? Man, oh man, does the Lord have a bone to pick with you. From Psalm 14:1, there’s this nugget of judgement: “The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God. They are corrupt, they have done abominable works, there is none that doeth good.” I find this arrogance odd, given that I know way more kind atheists, than I do tolerant Christians, and with zero exceptions, their motivations for being so aren’t based on the fear of a petulant Sky-daddy.

Weird how that works, isn’t it? It’s almost as if they’re responsible for themselves, or something crazy like that. And despite what at this particular moment may feel like a completely off-tangent diversion, the concept of mediocrity I started weaving earlier still applies, as it should.

The sci-fi author L. Ron Hubbard did seemingly learn from the best when he created his pseudo-religion known as Scientology, and in a plot twist born out of a sense of sheer creative brilliance, decided to add extraterrestrials to his catechism Chex mix, which in my opinion, makes just as much as sense as the concept of my being cursed with the burden of original sin for an act of disobedience I wasn’t involved in, and held accountable by the very same flawed deity who’s solely responsible for it in the first place.

And how might I escape this cruel fate, you ask? By offering my unquestioning allegiance and slavish devotion to a sacrificial zombie whose own father sent him here to die in my place, because… mysterious ways, if you swallow that sort of moronic pablum.

Don’t misconstrue what I’m saying here- while the overall story of an occasionally vengeful and wholly mythical deity is always a win, and given the fantastical suspension of disbelief required to take it to one’s heart, I would still have to admit that the overall marketing and cultural campaign for it is nothing short of amazing.

Imagine being able to sell the same book for over a thousand years, and in an unforeseen addendum, having it turn out to be an unforeseen cash cow as well, which is nothing short of having Milla Jovovich showing up at your house with several cases of chocolate syrup and ten pounds of marshmallow fluff, and asking if you have any ideas on what can be done with it all.

Trust me on this. I do have more than a few, and since I‘m now fully equipped with a state-of-the-art insulin pump, I’m also more than willing to get my glycemic index raised in the name of creative research. And she wouldn’t even have to thank me for participating, as the statistical data produced would be its own reward, if I were ever so inclined to be humble.

So to recap, a for-profit-and-to-assist-in-the-unethical-control-of others posing as a spiritual movement, spearheaded by a cabal of morally rudderless and corrupt grifters using a highly implausible fairy-tale powered by the ongoing weaponization of the human tribes inherent fears, guilty consciences, and superstitions, and if one dares to point out the illogic, hypocrisy, and utter lunacy that comes with the faith in such, society is openly allowed if not encouraged, to brand you as either intolerant or bordering on the immoral.

Nothing screams as being truly mediocre quite like being an otherwise rational adult who still ascribes to the bizarre concept of magical thinking, especially in this the age of access, where all of the world’s information is no more than a click or two away, false tangents aside. In this day, being consciously ignorant is a willful choice- don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Overall, it’s also the easiest path to achieve both personal and ethical mediocrity, no matter how it’s practitioners might try to package it for consumption by others. As I noted above, the strategic marketing campaign for this magical mysticism tour may be brilliant, but as for the contradictions, hypocrisy and outright naked greed it harbors?

Mediocre at best, and as a rule, definitely mediocre at worst.

Wow… it’s like 2 in the morning as I finish this section up, and after 11, 412 words thus far, I know that I and we, can definitely use a break of sorts. And when I come back, I’ll delve into the last leg of my Triad of Mediocrity, that being what fails to pass itself off as competent journalism these days. Normally, a topic that has all of the exhilaration of a sawdust-filled waterbed, but I’ll do my best to liven it up for you. Until then, get some sleep, grab a snack, and send your hate emails to the regular place.

“Any doctrine that will not bear investigation is not a fit tenant for the mind of an honest man. Any doctrine that will not bear investigation is not a fit tenant for the mind of an honest man. Any man who is afraid to have his doctrine investigated is not only a coward but a hypocrite.” – Robert G. Ingersoll



































The Phantom Trollbooth (The Celibacy of Cowardice)

“To say I’m an overrated troll, when you have never even seen me guard a bridge, is patently unfair.” -Tina Fey

 Hello Blogiteers!

I have been busy as all Heck lately, my time being equally divided between writing, forming a definitive legal plan aimed at successfully suing both my former employer Engelsen Molding who operate out of Michigan, and my former supervisor, Antonia “Tomi” Ramirez, who operates out of a sense of hubris and obese ineptitude.

Am I looking forward to this sure to be epic skirmish? You betcha. This valid reckoning is long overdue, and where before I was fine with just delivering a catty bitch-slap and walking away, now I’m looking to legally add two empty skulls to my human cereal bowl collection. Metaphorically of course, since a human skull is completely undersized and way too wobbly to hold my standard portion of Apple Jacks, but you get where I’m going with this.

Currently, I’m enjoying the ripples emanating from the dropping of my last two screeds, as it’s been a fairly productive month, so I can’t really complain in the fashion that I and my readers have all grown accustomed to. This situation can present itself as being both good and bad, depending on how mercurial my existing mood is at that moment. But this is me after all, so there will have to be carping, and it will be shared.

Lucky, lucky you.

Recently, I celebrated my 51st birthday, which has served as a reminder the unsettling statistic about diabetics tending to die at the age of 65. This unwanted knowledge has led to some fairly dark inner monologues where I’ve pondered about how much longer the metaphorical sands in my personal hourglass are going to smoothly run. Forgive the inclusion of morbidity, but after twenty years of ceaseless combat with my old bloodborne adversary, I sometimes get a little worn out, both mentally and physically. Even with my new insulin pump, it’s still an uphill battle, and yes, that does include the best of days.

At times, I openly wonder if I’ll hit all my planned benchmarks before this damn disease or the decrepitude of old age finally takes me out. Interesting aside: diabetes and depression occur together approximately twice as frequently than by chance alone, so maybe that’s why I happen to find myself feeling that I should drag out my old Goth wardrobe, smoke a pack of clove cigarettes, and go full nihilist.

Fortunately, when it comes to the act of creative writing, these mood swings haven’t limited my output- if anything in fact, it’s forced me to expand on what topics I choose to cover, and I for one, think it’s helped advance my range rather significantly. While I will always have a focused interest regarding the world of Art, I’ve found myself as of late, covering what might be considered much “heavier” issues, which to be quite honest, I’m really kind of enjoying getting into more so than at any other point in my career thus far.

Savagery, sarcasm, and statistics are seemingly the foundation of my writing, and after fifteen years, I think I’m finally getting a handle on how to use them effectively and brutally, If the amount of virulent email I receive from time to time is any kind of indicator. And yes, sometimes acts of pure unbridled hatred directed squarely at you can be regarded as a good thing, believe it or not, as at the very least, it confirms your hope that people are paying attention. Especially the ones who need to hear it the most.

As John Lennon once said; “Being honest may not get you a lot of friends, but it’ll always get you the right ones.” Besides, there’s really nothing more helpful that my disparagers can do than assist me with whittling down my Christmas card list, and you have no idea how much I appreciate that. At this rate, next year I’ll like have only two cards to send out, and the remainder of my mad money can go to what’s really important- buying Star Wars toys and art reference books. A man has got to have his priorities, as you well know.

So, exactly why do I enjoy the venom so much? Well, most people would tell you that the mirror opposite of Love is Hate, but that’s not even close to being accurate. The true contrarian of Love is Indifference, and for a Creative, that’s an absolute hellish land to find yourself exiled to. When someone loves what you do, that’s great. When they hate what you do, that’s even better, given the fact it costs them a tremendous amount of energy to stay focused on you. But when someone could care less either way?

Well, at that point, you should probably just go find a truly serene and economical place to inter your artistic corpse, and accept the fact that your career is over. I’ve often half-joked that I’ve had more comeback tours than KISS, but that’s only because when it comes to what I do, you’re only as good as your last set of accomplishments. It’s kind of hard to sit on your laurels when they fall apart faster than a pair of shoes from Payless, and you can only use the excuse that you’re “in the process” before people start realizing you spend most of your time watching Scooby-Doo cartoons and posting angry reviews on Yelp.

On a related note, screw you Papa John’s, because that cardboard circle slathered with ketchup that you like to advertise as an actual pizza, absolutely sucks.

However, when I do find myself walking down a morose and self-pitying path, I remind myself that things could always be worse- after all, I could be dead, I could have lost more than just a part of my left foot, or in the ultimate horror show, I could be one of those mouth-breathers that looks to Kid Rock for political advice.

Sure, “Bawitdaba” is a kick-ass song, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to take voting cues from a guy who looks like he deals skunk weed out of the trunk of a faded 1983 Pontiac Fiero. Just saying. And no matter what is happening in my life, at least I try to use my innate anger and sense of acidic cynicism to highlight the issues that I think need to be addressed, whether there’s a receptive audience for my opinions or not.

When it comes to what I do, the first person who I aim to satisfy is myself. Always. And if I can entertain a few road-weary travelers along the way who appreciate that, so much the better.

But there’s one demographic in this country that is never at peace, never content to be one with their fellow humans, and whose offered solutions for the things that supposedly vex them border not only on the ludicrous, but the sheerly psychotic.

I’ve written about these nonsensical nimrods before, but it seems that every time I think I’ve hit the rock bottom of this topic, I discover that it has a sub-basement crammed full of pork rinds, unopened Bibles, Confederate flags, dog-eared copies of The Protocols of the Meetings of the Learned Elders of Zion, Chinese-made pro-Trump bumper stickers, hats, and T-shirts, along with a collection of guns, ammo, and XXL camouflage fatigues, for when they want to play soldier, but are still too craven to join the actual military.

This festering fellowship of morons, malcontents, faux patriots, whiners, hypocritical Christians and boycott-addicted simpletons who as a collective, cluster under the internet’s bed, feebly harass the online citizenry with an obsessive passion seen hitherto only in middle-age men who collect My Little Pony dolls.

I am of course, referring to the cravenly scourge known as Trolls, who roam the shadowlands of the Web, engaged in a dark quest to find both relevance and a definable personality. Defined as a noun, the word Troll presents as: A dwarf or giant in folklore which inhabits caves or hills.” And here I was, assuming they all had mortgages for a nice spot under a bridge. Damn. Fairytales have totally lied to me my entire life. Next thing you know, I’ll find out that the witch in Hansel and Gretel was actually a Florida retiree that two German kids proceeded to mug after they finished eating her house.

However, the modern-day definition of Troll as a verb is what I’m most interested in for this particular screed: “To harass, criticize, or antagonize by provocatively disparaging or mocking public statements, postings, or acts.” In essence, this is a really diplomatic way of stating that the type of person you’d report to HR if they were a co-worker, spends most of their time surfing the web in the manner of a modern Thugee, waiting for an unsuspecting traveler.

As someone who’s more than familiar with this subclass that spends most of it’s free time lurking in the pixelated murk, I can attest that they all tend to follow the same script, which is at it’s best, no more than a craven’s compendium of post-it notes suggesting the repetitive slurs, threats, and translucent deflections, they require to bolster their unfounded belief that they possess some relevance in the first place.

When one dissects this singular populace, they’ll notice it’s an inane cross-section of persons who are socially and politically marginalized, and to some degree, sexually frustrated as well, given how consistently the slithering alongside Incel community attempts to brand itself as noble martyrs to the fight against the current feminist movement. I for one, wasn’t aware that you could take such a fierce pride in being involuntarily celibate, but at the end of the day, anything that helps keep the makers of Fleshlights in business, can only be regarded as a win.

Rarely can one stay the course when these leeches of logic attach themselves to what was once a previously focused debate, due to their dependence on a panacea so addictive that they have to hijack non-related conversations as a means to attain a transitory sense of personal influence that they lack in their otherwise hollow lives. When their attempts to disseminate falsehoods or their failures to defend cherry-picked statistics force these individuals inevitably backed into a corner, they only have one fail-safe option to exploit, that being the capacity to weaponize the Internet’s shroud of anonymity to an almost terrifying degree.

I once wrote that the Internet was a lot like Tombstone in the 1880’s, in the sense that it had no rules, no truly enforced laws, and the odds were pretty good that the person you were dealing with was functionally illiterate. And I still maintain this POV is accurate, especially when it comes to the framework of personal accountability for one’s online actions and commentaries, which the Web at the moment, finds itself in severe lack of.

I’m not suggesting that regulating or censoring our citizenry’s right to free speech should be considered, but I will firmly take the position that dialogue targeted to harm my fellow humans doesn’t even come close to deserving the same afforded protection. In all the years I’ve been writing social criticism, I’ve found myself dealing with more than my share of people who possess an almost childlike sanguinity that presenting one’s viewpoints anonymously is a contemporary variance of a medieval castle keep, but let me assure you, this assumption is only partially correct.

To quote Luke 8:17, “For there is nothing hidden that will not be revealed, and nothing concealed that will not be known and illuminated.” And despite the fact this insight hails from the pages of a Bronze-age book of fairytales, it’s still exceedingly apt when applied to the corruption of what should have been the most lauded repository of all the world’s knowledge.

Instead, when you’ve removed the usefulness of Google, cute cat videos, and the access to free pornography, the Internet is really no more than an extended virtual Thanksgiving dinner at which everyone of your ignorantly racist relatives show up unannounced, drunk, and wearing a pro-Trump T-shirt. So it’s just like real life, but the level of idiocy you’ll have to experience is dialed all the way up to 11, and you never get the peace and quiet present when your Uncle Frank is shoveling your Aunt Hilda’s world famous marshmallow-topped sweet potatoes down the pipe that serves as his neck.

To be fair, it’s quite easy to want to dismiss these disturbingly-comfortable-with-Nazis-outside-of-an-Indiana-Jones-movie lunatics, and that’s understandable, if not the life goal that many would like to eventually achieve. But if I were to offer a small caveat, it would be this- worrying concerns that are blindly left unsupervised in the dark tend to become emboldened and dangerous as time moves on, and this faux brain trust is no exception to that rule.

While a majority of trolls just spew their acidic bile optimistically believing that they’ll compile enough hit-points to merit a re-tweet from the man-child Mussolini they slavishly worship, this is not the case for all, as some go far past the line in the sand that an ordinary malcontent would normally believe should never be crossed, as the 24/7 news cycle has proven over the last three years.

According to an *article published in The New York Times in March of 2019, hate crimes have hit a 16-year high, with a noteworthy increase in violence directed at Latinos, according to the FBI. And while the sense of vehemence focusing on Muslims and Arab-Americans has seen a downturn, physical assaults have spiked, accounting for 61 percent of the 7,120 documented incidents that were reported to law enforcement officials nationwide. *[https://www.nytimes.com/2019/11/12/us/hate-crimes-fbi-report.html]

Keep in mind, these stats are drawn only from the known data, as some experts have noted their belief that possibly more than half of all victims of hate crimes never file a complaint in the first place. Disgracefully, state and local police forces are not required by law to report hate crimes to the FBI, which to be fair, has a limiting impact on the range of the conclusion that can be ascertained from the collective data.

A hate crime is defined as: “A criminal offense against a person or property, motivated in whole or in part by an offender’s bias against a race, religion, disability, sexual orientation, gender, or gender identity, as well as ethnicity.” Under this definition, the classification of hate crime victims can also include established institutions, religious organizations and government entities.

One odd factoid for review is that in areas where Trump has held his Nuremburg-style Ego rallies, there has been a statistical jump in hate crimes, although it’s not anywhere near the absurd 226% rate claimed by certain meme-posting individuals on Facebook. This is not to suggest that there aren’t unsavory characters prowling the streets of our cities causing havoc, but the assemblies of these mental midgets only really started appearing consistently on the social radar after being emboldened both by Trump’s rhetoric and his seemingly tacit approval of their current activities and recruitment outreach.

Far beyond the pale of rational thought, these people tend to be hiding in plain sight among the good people of the virtual realms, shedding avatars and profile pages quicker than a high-schooler tries out new personalities. This, for no other purpose than to stay several steps ahead of the social consequences they so richly deserve and have truly earned.

As with all cowards, the level of threat presented differs on a case to case basis, but coalesced into a teeming mob with a singular targeted mentality, that’s when this horde is arguably at its most dangerous, if not its most unpredictable. To quote comedienne Tina Fey regarding the murder of Heather Steyer at what was supposed to be a peaceful protest against the White Power Movement in Charlottesville: ”Who drove the car into the crowd… Hillary’s E-mails?” I

n public, these Trumpflakes not only crave the companionship of their fellow Red Hat brigade members, they require it, since without this mass of sheer numbers, these twerps would be stomped flatter than a narc at a Hells Angel BBQ. However, when they’re sitting around in their underwear in the embryonic warmth of their Mom’s basement, their disconnection from their brethren causes a sense of rapidly fading hubris and faux bravery which can only be rejuvenated by donning their well-worn and tissue-thin, cravens’ cloak of Internet anonymity.

Now, when you note that their profile/page/opinions are made wholly out of air and arrogance, the invariable response that you’ll normally receive is that they’ve purposefully set it up that way to “protect themselves” from the evil intentions of the “Alt-Left”, a non-entity who apparently, wants nothing more than to turn their children into atheistic soymilk latte drinking transgender drag queens who practice witchcraft while demanding free abortions as they set fire to the American flag.

I don’t know about you, but that is one argument that’s really hard to disprove, when you don’t have immediate access to a mobile lobotomy kit. Just an observation. Nevertheless though, the reality of this ham-fisted approach to online social interaction is rather self-evident, no matter what fantastical theory they wrap it in. In essence, these paranoid and pathetic rationalizations highlight a far sadder issue than just what they claim to believe.

What all of this subterfuge represents is the true innermost struggle that they face- holding dear a set of values so dishonored, that they can’t openly share them with the populace at large, Whether you want to lay the blame for their reluctance at the feet of PC culture, or for accuracy’s sake, the advance of common sense and/or logic, it’s just not socially acceptable in this, an era of dawning diversity, to be proudly and willfully racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, elitist, homophobic, vulgar, and ignorant.

It is however, still okay to admit that you think Xanadu is a perfectly fine 80’s movie, since it’s soundtrack more than makes up for the act of portraying Gene Kelly as eager to co-own a roller disco. Not to mention, you also have Olivia Newton-John running around in leg-warmers, and who in their right mind doesn’t appreciate that? Communists. That’s who. And to a lesser degree, persons who think that the “Renegade Cut” of Highlander 2 makes it twice as good. Spoiler: it does not.

But as I noted earlier, it would be remiss to deride the lone individuals whose sole purpose in life is to find proof of their own relevance, unfounded as it may be, as harmless. These people are spoiling for conflagration, and all they lack is the spark to set their limited world aflame. And when you’re faced with souls that lack basic humanity, this cults’ penchant for embracing hate filled strangers they only see at circle-jerk rallies as their only true friends, starts to make a whole lot more sense. I may not be an actual psychologist by any stretch of imagination, but even I know that’s a fiercely f**ked up mindset.

Speaking of f**ked up… 

For all of their posturing as being “victims” of the non-existent “Alt-Left” movement, the Red Hat Brigade is always seemingly discovered squarely dead center when it comes to the numerous incidents of politically-inspired violence, voter intimidation, gerrymandering, ballot fraud, voter roll purging, and let’s not overlook the fine art of doxxing that they do with a maniacal fervor not seen since Glenn Close had her star-turn in Fatal Attraction.

Doxxing, for those of you who may not be familiar with the term, is the act of publishing personally sensitive information online, of which it can be pertained to a corporation, or stereotypically, a private citizen, Processes utilized to obtain this targeted data can range from the absurdly easy, such as searching the standard social media sites like Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter for previously  posted information, to the more serious undertaking of illegally hacking web-based accounts to ferret out what has been intentionally kept from the prying eyes of the public.

The end goal of this immoral acquirement is not to use the data uncovered for the purpose of doing good, as the hacker collective Anonymous has been known to do from time to time, but instead to use the compiled material as raw ammunition in order to shame and/or harass the object/s of their obsession. The purveyors of these vile acts of anonymous cowardice seek to inflict some form of harm against people that they don’t know, which is as close as you can get to being a full-blown psychotic without having to wear a tin-foil suit to identify you as such, in my humble opinion.

And not too surprisingly given my political leanings and inability to be intimidated by the Hot Pocket horde, this has happened to me more than once. I’ve had my previous addresses and phone numbers posted, my website and social media pages attacked, and in one weird instance, my work history as well. Strangely, whomever posted this list of my former employers actually did me a favor, since I had accidentally deleted my resume master file, and all of my work stubs were inaccessible at the time, so it was great resource when I needed to update my resume. So, I owe one at least, to the gloomy compulsive who took the time to inadvertently do me a neurotic solid.

Overall, most of these acts of worthless retaliation fell flat, and were about as effective as their so-called boycotts tend to be. I swear to God that if I had to make a cartoon-related analogy regarding these hapless hackers, I’d compare their rate of successful efficiency to the luck Wile E. Coyote has had using the fine products that ACME makes, in his endless attempts to catch and eventually eat, the Road Runner.

Dude, if you’ve got the scratch to consistently purchase a giant hitch-hiker thumb, rocket-powered roller-skates, vats of guaranteed slippery grease, jet-propelled tennis shoes and pogo stick, anvils, a box of dehydrated (just add water) boulders, triple strength leg muscle and super-speed vitamins, a do-it-yourself tornado kit, a bottle of earthquake pills, suction cups, both an iron carrot and iron bird seed, several giant rockets, a bow and arrow set, a smoke bomb, multiple crates of dynamite, a sweet “jim-dandy” wagon, and a score of oversized slingshots, then you can just as easily text DoorDash, and tell them to bring you a grilled Roadrunner sandwich on Sourdough, el pronto.

Just saying.

Out of all the trolls I’ve dispatched and sent swiftly to the pits of Abaddon, there is one that stands out from all the rest, mainly due to the fact that when one is full of sewer gas, it’s inevitable that they’ll rise to the surface. This virginal viper however, went further than most of his inane ilk, and decided to show some truly obsessive aggression, despite his lacking any physical semblance of a detectable spine.

The disturbing discovery that several of my professional contacts, friends, and weirdly, Instagram fans, had been contacted via his numerous fake profiles, was something that instantly infuriated me, after it was revealed that they too, had been threatened or “warned about me” as well. To clarify, I wasn’t mad because I was concerned for myself, because online cowards are the equivalent of a mentally-challenged kitten forever chasing the red dot, but I was truly livid that this neutered schizoid was now attempting to terrify those people I care about, because he was and still is, too craven to show his real face.

Oh yeah… this guy’s a winner at Life. And that applies to his wretched existence, the cereal, and the classic board game, of which I am convinced is the next logical step after you’ve mastered the mosh pit that is Chutes and Ladders. On top of that, my sexless stalker took several additional steps in order to try and cause some consternation, which I am happy to admit, sort of blew up in his Vaseline coated hands, due to his amateurish overkill in regard to what he was attempting to achieve.

And yes, there will be examples, because as a Creative, I’m all about the visual, and I cannot thank Odin enough for how much unintentional comedy this *zölibatär verliererin has provided.
*[It’s a German descriptive. Feel free to Google it,]

To start, let me present some context first, if only to show today’s impressionable children what really happens when a person lives on a diet consisting of bargain-brand diet soda, pizza rolls, and joyless, if not angry, masturbation. Like many modern Creatives, a good chunk of my life is centered around the Web. But just like when I have a show of my figurative work, the perpetually blue-balled incels arrive as if they were remoras on the backs of a shiver of sharks sensing a bleeding debutante in the water.

The main similarity of course, being that if it wasn’t for the scraps left behind by the actual top of the food chain, they’d have all starved to death by now. If there is one hilariously predictable trait that every Trump-strumpet share in common, it’s the inability to work without a script. This intellectual flaw, exposed when any of them attempts to debate without using their preassigned so-called talking points, generally turns into a litany of slurs and threats, due to their “winging it” ability being somewhere along the lines of a drunken penguin.

They don’t like being challenged, They don’t like their *seelenlos feigling being mocked. And they sure as hell don’t like facts, no matter how they are presented. I’ve actually come to believe over time that every validity that begrudgingly enters their empty heads, must hurt like a razor-studded Q-tip that’s being hammered in with a five-pound sledge, given how vitriolic their responses to a measured debate tend to be. By way of example, I present the following screencaps from the aforementioned Vaseline aficionado. *[Soulless coward in German]

First, we open up with how I’m a “loser”, and how he’s going to pay me a visit to receive his face to face apology, which presents as an almost adorable and highly optimistic outlook, given the fact he would never have the stones to show up. And to think… I went out and bought that veggie party tray for nothing. What a waste of some perfectly good Ranch dressing. Not cool, dude.
Next, since the apology he didn’t deserve was never delivered, he slithers right into what I guess he considers a series of “threats”. First, he tries to attack my age and vanity, which as a rule, tends to fail miserably, since I already have a face so full of fault lines, I could be a mountain range, and I’m looking forward to my Sam Elliot craggy phase.

Trying to bolster that weak-ass opening gambit, he then charitably lets me know that not only will I need to make my Instagram page “private”, because… (reasons?), but that I’ll be also spending all my free time looking “it my window” as well.  I assume he meant “out”, but then again, when you’re stuck inside the virgin’s closet past your early thirties, your view of the world has to be somewhat limited in scope, since the only things you ever whisper sweet nothings to are your hands and the occasional apple pie.
And here come the inevitable dick size and sucking jokes. Or in other words, insults that didn’t work in 5th grade, and sure as hell aren’t going to work now. I love how these cowards never realize that in order to insult someone, they have to value your opinion first. And as you can see, I handle these slurs with modesty and gentleness. As someone who grew up in the 80’s, I have never thought that having someone imply I was gay was ever an insult, I always took it to mean I was incredibly culturaally hip.

As a middle-aged white man, when it gets hurled at me now, I regard it as a nice compliment that my houses property value is stable, my sense of fashion is dead-on, and that it’s obvious that I work out, because you don’t get a ghetto booty like mine watching TV. I think it’s pretty transparent what he’s really mad about here- the fact that I could still pull tail on either side of the sexual fence, and the only thing he’s ever gotten to pull is himself.
Having failed to intimidate me or kill me by making me laugh so hard that I hacked up my own kidneys, he then switches to a grab-bag of projection and threats, none of which are even worth commenting on past the point that he really needs a role model other than a man in his seventies who incessantly melts down like a binky-denied toddler.

I don’t mean to be egotistical here, but if you’re going to stalk me like my 3rd ex-girlfriend, show some love for the craft at least. That wench invested like 60 bucks in a professional quality baseball bat when she decided to try and expose my brain to daylight, so step up your game, bro. I’d expect and demand nothing less.
Now, let’s see just how desperate this guy is to score some points, by his claiming that I sexually abuse women. Weird that in a 20+ year career, that’s never been presented anywhere as fact, huh? Better still is his admitting the number of fake accounts he runs, thereby proving not only his lack of an actual life, but that he also possesses in spades the lack of personal bravery that separates Trump’s male fans from actual men.

He then goes on to openly threaten an IG fan of mine, which was followed up later by a menacing email, sent from yet another one of his many fake accounts. That’s why these people have to strike at you online, if they were forced to have to face you in person, it would be almost damn impossible for them to effectively hide their mother’s gut-girdle under their Trump T-shirts.

Regarding that SEO fallout he smugly mentioned, since his slander was posted, it’s basically led to a zero-sum career impact. Zip. Nada. Zilch. No cancellations. No model blowback. In fact, I got two jobs out of it. Citing the fact that if I pissed off a Trumplethinskin loser like this so bad that he went to all of this trouble to try and harass me, my new clients took it at face value that my critical writing must be top notch.

So, I guess I’m on the hook to send him a fresh case of Vaseline and a case of Kleenex as a thank-you gift, so that his Friday nights will be booked for quite some time, at least. It’s true what you’ve heard- I give because I care.
A further listing of some more of his impotence, via IG’s notification feature. I particularly like the projection form an actual loser and coward that I’m one as well, along with the assertion that now I was going “to feel it”, which given the context, almost comes off as dialogue one might not want to hear inside a prison shower. Considering this guys gear couldn’t go past the molars of the hooker he’d have to hire, I don’t know if this statement is based on a sense of blind optimism, or an act of full-on delusion. Most likely, it’s both. So let’s hear it for multi-tasking!

I don’t even know how to personify the true wretchedness of this losers psyche any better than this flaccid falsehood he also threw out there as yet another limp-wristed attempt at besmirching my unblemished professional reputation, This is supposedly a posting he placed on a message forum for the high school I graduated from in, wait for it… 1987.

Yes. You did read that right. As far as I can tell, Captain Emptypants here thinks that my business model depends on contacting strangers from a time period when people thought plaid parachute pants and British flag t-shirts were a fashion go-to. I literally laugh myself into a state of hypoxia every time when someone I know, and who’s usually laughing at it too, brings this to my attention.

But this posting is a perfect example of what occurs when sheer stupidity believes it’s disguised as sheer genius, since this could serve as potential evidence of a serious crime. This captured moment, forms the base of a still open case whereas the Arizona Department of Public Safety finds itself concerned.

This is due to the fact that for some strange reason, they take a rather dim view of anyone falsifying a public notice, and even when you remove the ineffectively pathetic slander aspect, this takes his wanton idiocy up several notches to a place with some outstanding serious consequences- even if, as far as I can tell, he never actually went through with it. I have a well-developed sense of humor. The police generally aren’t known for theirs, as a rule. And to be quite honest, I have no idea how he thought this plan designed by his celibate Incel support group would work smoothly in the first place.
The reality is that if any of my then-neighbors would have received one of these, the police, and postal authorities would have gotten involved, and the focused sole resources of each agency would never have been directed on me, past the peripheral. But, I am pretty sure that when he’s found out, and he eventually will be- he’ll have some, in the words of 50’s Cuban heartthrob Ricky Ricardo, some “splaining to do.” And I’m also equally confident that when he does, the courts won’t accept his declaration that “Trump is your king” as a legitimate defense.

During this time period, and it may be just a coincidence, but my main website was also hacked… sort of. Basically, someone redirected it’s address to a vitamin wholesale website, where I wound uo scoring a great price on some B-12, so in the end, all’s well that ends well, for it only took less than five minutes for my webhost provider to fix the issue.

And when it comes to that sweet case of B-12? Well, my red blood cell formation is off the charts, and my *Homocysteine levels have never been better. So thanks to this minor annoyance, I’m going to live forever. *[Homocysteine is a common amino acid that has been rumored to be a factor an increased risk of heart disease, so always eat animals, and wash it all down with a tall glass of milk.]

There is one consistent trait that all bullies have in common. Their threats always read as if they cribbed them from a straight-to-DVD cop movie they skimmed on Netflix. In this exchange sent to the IG fan of mine I referenced earlier, our profile in cowardice believes that repeating the name of the innocent he’s trying to harass as he mentions specific details, passes for badassery, when all it does is recertify what an absolute sniveling coward he actually is. Fake name. Fake Email, Fake bravado.

Factor in that this person he’s failing to intimidate is also a disabled veteran, and the level of dense depravity he willing to wallow in makes itself clear. And as for the wholly laughable hard-nosed gumshoe persona he’s pushing, based on nothing more than his luck at managing to dig up a few easily accessed details, this wretch has more in common with Scrappy-Doo, than he ever will with Nancy Drew.. This is the type of man-boy that owns ten Harley-Davidson shirts, but still depends on his Mom to drop him off for his shift at Taco Bell
Granted, while his falsifying of an official public notice was an epic fail, this photoshopped faux message may be the stupidest one he attempted to foist, and I’ll explain why. First, if such a message had ever been sent out like this, my account would have been immediately suspended, without question, and this real-model-and-not-a-fake-person-at-all would have most certainly spread the word around.

Second, even if you don’t know me personally, a simple look at my bio would prove that this in no way “sounds” like me, one iota. And third, all any model would have to do to check out my rep would be to contact the “models I’ve worked with” list that’s listed RIGHT UP FRONT on said bio page. This gaffe is the end result of what happens when someone spends way too much time seething over the failure of their life versus learning how to make peace with that failure. And third, you’d think that if any of what he fabricated so poorly was true, it would have come out at some point over he last 20+ years, don’t ya think?

After all, I’m not famous, I’m not wealthy, and I don’t have Harvey Weinstein level type friends. But I do appreciate him giving me the alleged status of a kingmaker, even if he erroneously thinks that the newspaper industry is somehow even remotely relevant to the current world of professional modeling.. Unquestionably, this is not a guy well-versed on how any aspect of my professional world works, but then again, he doesn’t seem to have the hang of how this one operates either.
I gotta give some props here- this wacko is so obsessively angry with me, you’d think he and I had dated at some point. Something tells me however, that when this hapless hobbit is found and put on the chopping block, he’s most definitely going to look exactly like the type of person those police officers in your grade school told you on Stranger Danger Day to never take candy from.

I can’t think of a better and more apt compliment to my effectiveness at vexing the Trump trolls, than this impotent lunacy he labored to throw up on YouTube, Vimeo, and Ebaum’s World, to absolutely no avail. If anything, this has really only helped my street cred among my fellow liberals, and helps me skewer the Trumptards who try to use it as a ”gotcha” point. He literally and figuratively, helps to sink his own cause every time this randomly pops up, and for that, I am eternally grateful.
Looking at this past mass of nonsensicality as a whole, I can’t for the life of me, wonder why these paste-eaters aren’t given the proper amount of respect they think they’re due. A mystery for the ages, I guess. So, a recap- in order to soothe his candy-assed and bruised Ego, our resident Man of La Moron decided to prove all of my initial conceptions about him and his ilk by not only living up to the Trump cult stereotype, but surpassing it.

For my part, I’d like to think that in a corner of his studio apartment, there exists a Memento style Polaroid display, and that he’s covered in all sorts of home tattoos depicting the conspiracy theories he‘s swallowed wholesale. You know… to offset the ones on his fat gut depicting his love for Hello Kitty?

But there will come a time in his life, when his actions, much like his erectile dysfunction, will catch up to him, and when that day arrives, he’ll spend the rest of his miserable life literally paying for his civil transgressions, both far and wide. Mainly, since I can’t be the only one he’s tried this crap with, and while he may feel untouchable at the moment, all digital excursions leave behind a traceable path.

And one day, he’s going to piss off a hacker who really knows his craft far better, and this boy will get f**ked like a Kardashian at an NBA mixer. And while there exists several laws and statutes this cur will eventually be charged and sued under; most police agencies are still essentially clueless on how to handle these cases properly in the first place. This take of mine is highlighted clearly by how differently the law enforcement agencies in Arizona handled my initial outreach regarding his targeted attempts at neurotic harassment and slander.

First in line, the Phoenix Police Department, or as I’ve always regarded them, the equivalent of a school crossing guard recruitment program that hires well-armed, if not undertrained, racist thugs. If that sounds a bit harsh, it’s well-deserved, as in my opinion, the PPD is one of the most openly corrupt and incompetent agencies in Arizona, if not the country, and I’ve been to New Orleans more than once.

And the cops there make less than a worker at Popeye’s Chicken. A close friend of mine who’s now retired from the NYPD, once joked that Arizona cops come in three designer models: Rogers, Careers, and Desks. According to my buddy, Rogers are named after the late and genial kid show host Mr. Rogers, because they’re the cops who haven’t become jaded with the job quite yet, and still believe they can make a difference. These are definitely the cops you want to show up on the call you made.

But the other two archetypes? F**king useless at best.

You may ask why this is. Well, in his esteemed opinion, Careers only care about themselves and their professional trajectory, making crucial decisions based solely on what may harm that and them, versus what may affect the citizenry they’re supposed to serve, and Desks can only follow the simplest of orders- the relevant analogy being a worker bee. The reason he refers to them as “desks” is because in his estimation, they do nothing but ride one. Damn… even I winced at that description, and I’m known for being sarcastically savage on my nicest day. Because regardless of whether it’s a perfect world or not, somebody has to do the eventual heavy lifting, and they should have the same respect as the people who oversee the process, in my opinion.

However, that vibe and charitable feeling soon evaporated when I filed my report regarding the threats I was receiving, and the beat officer they sent was not only a “desk”, but also possessed the intellect and personality of one as well. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong here, but isn’t there some standard of physical prowess that one must retain in order to be an active duty police officer? Because if so, this sweet potato of a man needs to get his oversized load back to the gym, el pronto.

With no due respect, I don’t expect any officer to look like Tatum Channing does in Magic Mike, but I also have the belief that he shouldn’t require a greased-up doorway to be able to enter a room. If this guy ever had to chase down a suspect on foot, it’s almost a certainty that his quarry could design and build his own house, find a wife, raise a family, send the resulting kids to a good college, and comfortably retire, before this lump of law lard would catch up to him.

This rather acidic assessment stems from the fact that after my detailed describing the doxxing, the threats, and the slanderous harassment my simplistic stalker was issuing, he opined that (A) he wasn’t “even sure that a crime had been committed”, and (B) that this was similar to “guys in high school going behind the gym to settle it out”, which even a hockey puck on meth would assure you it is not. I’m starting to think this so-called cop either found his badge inside a box of Cracker Jacks, shining like a jewel, or that the PPD has an annual hire the mentally handicapped drive, and he was that year’s blue-ribbon winner.

Adding insult to injury, he then also informed me that if said wackaloser did show up at my house, and I was forced to defend myself and mine, I’d be the one arrested, because… I had stated openly that no one was going to be allowed the sole chance to hurt me, my friends, or my loved ones. True story. To protect and serve, my ass.

Can you only imagine what Dudley Do-wrong must be like on a domestic violence call? “I’m sorry lady, but he claims that you ran into his fist multiple times on purpose, so it sort of seems to me that despite all the witnesses and proof you provided to the contrary, that you were kind of asking for it.”

And if I were to be even harsher, I’d also suggest that he’s the type of idiot who’d hand out his personal phone number to a sexual assault victim, because he’d guess she’s already down to f**k. That joke is why I’m not listing his name here, as I think it’ll be more fun to read about him when he gets fired for inadvertently assisting the criminals he was supposed to stop. Oh hell, who am I kidding? To quote Sean Connery in The Untouchables: “There goes the next Chief of Police”.

But when it came to the Arizona Department of Public Safety? Night and day type of difference across the board, both in tone and professionalism. Two detectives met with me, took copies of all the screencaps, the various fake profile pages, and that email message I posted above, and went straight to work opening a case file.

And shockingly, they were of the dual mindset that possibly several crimes had been committed, of which one was most definitely a felony. I guess when you spend more time with a law book than the menu at Dunkin’ Donuts, you actually know what your responsibilities to a community are. Imagine that. So what’s next? Well, eventually this wielder of a disturbingly sticky keyboard will overstep both his limited intellect and the concrete  boundaries of the law yet again. After all, he’s already left enough of a trail for a competent hacker to follow, and even better?

Despite his success at hiding within the murk of the Web so far, that pond of brackish pixels gets smaller and smaller every day, thanks in part to active citizen groups like Anonymous and the state laws which are playing an efficient game of catch-up. Not to mention, this guy’s obviously got an easily bruised Ego, and he won’t be able to stop himself from launching even more attacks against the people he’s too cowardly to face offline.

It’s literally the drug he mainlines, and like most addicts, if he doesn’t get a regular fix, he’ll implode. And that need to take his steady fix will ultimately lead to the authorities or worse, a private citizen with the means and the motivation to go far beyond what the law might prescribe, to get their fix on him. Either/or.

Best of luck, dude. Truly, I hope that the hole you’re currently inhabiting is deep enough to bury the burden of your earlier sins, because when you finally cross the wrong person, and you will, that past weight is going to crush you flatter than your sex life.

“I’ve come to realize that the most critical of the social media accounts are the least verbal in real life and I can assure you that most social media trolls have no physical troll land to dwell.” – Aysha Taryam


Bridge over the River Cry (Sieg Heil Snowflakes)

“Almost any sect, cult, or religion will legislate its creed into law if it acquires the political power to do so.”- Robert A. Heinlein

Hello Blogiteers!

In regards to my last screed, I discovered that publicly expressing the hope that the jackleg along with the judge who f**ked you over regarding your AZIC case wind up in a prison shower scene where all of the convicts are wearing sandpaper condoms, will not endear you one iota to the church group unfortunately sitting right next to you at your part-time writers garret and town’s watering hole, but it will increase the amount of prayers directed your way that aim to rehabilitate your soul, and quicken the pace of their lunch, so that’s a plus of sorts.

Speaking of serious soul-searching, are you tired of “winning” yet? I know I am.

I never had a definitive reference point for what can be constituted as emotional fatigue, until the Mango Mussolini who masquerades as our current President somehow managed to gaslight his corpulence into securing the most powerful job in the land. A walking, twittering, sniffling corpus of every vulgar human characteristic that was ever freed from Pandoras Box, Herr *Pilz-Penis is without doubt, the least redeemable person I have ever witnessed in my lifetime.

Keep in mind that I grew up during the Evel Knievel years, and that guy was a stone-cold bastard, covered in a piquant son-of-a-bitch-sauce. But at least he had a few qualities Trump will never be able to buy at any price, that being style, guts, and the ability to rock a white leather jumpsuit with a sense of swagger not seen since Elvis walked this Earth. Say what you will about his fashion sense, but Evel never backed down from a fight fair or not, and at least his hands were man-sized.
*[“Mushroom” in German.]

Other than his ass and ill-fitting off the discount-rack suits, everything about Trump is petitely underdeveloped- this includes not only his intellect, but his empathy, sympathy, loyalty, and sense of patriotism as well. More embarrassingly, according to professional schlong connoisseur Stormy Daniels, he’s also not packing anything between his thighs that Liz Phair would ever write a truly rocking song about. Sad. Bigly. If not covfefe beyond compare.

Granted, I myself could never present as a tangible challenge to say, Italian porn star Rocco Siffredi, but at least my gear extends past the molars, and I don’t have to cut a check for 130K every time I want to play a game of hide the Vonnegut. Just saying. In the end however, he’s really no more than the end dish of a corrupted kitchen that mixes racism, narcissism, homophobia, misogyny, and a stunning pride in being willfully ignorant, into a meal so noxious that the selection at Taco Bell comes off as if they were the ala carte Lounge Menu at Le Bernardin in New York.

And just like most things that prove to be inedible, he’ll eventually be tossed out like the trash he is. The same thought cannot be held however towards both his slavish base of cultists and willing enablers, sad to say. This now firmly-entrenched demographic, which has already proven itself to be a truly dire problem facing this country, can only be expected to ramp up both their rhetoric and threats of violence as they find themselves being forced back into the natural marginalization  they had previously occupied by a despised majority they wish to see exterminated, and that right quick.

I have to be upfront here, as it’s kind of hard for me to fear people who think that by just owning a surplus of XXL-sized camo and ammo, that they’ll be able to commit a successful act of sedition, when they’ve already shown that as a rule, they can barely spell the word in the first place, and have no idea what it actually means, in the second.

MENSA candidates these people are not, but in-bloom sociopaths they have proven to be, given both their posted and public actions over the last few years. Whether it’s championing ludicrous and debunked conspiracy theories, praying for the next great “Civil War”, or espousing that former (and far better President) Barrack Obama is overseeing a shadowy governmental cabal known as the Deep State in between producing shows for Netflix, the list of unintended and inane comedy seemingly never ends.

And neither does the continually venomous ichor broth that these erroneous views produce. If it weren’t for their ability to mindlessly parrot the propaganda they glean from t-shirts, bumper stickers, Chinese-made hats, FOX “News”, and the unresearched memes these persons swallow as if they were free pork rinds, we’d all be blessed with a far more peaceful world, as their political arguments tend to be as strongly fortified as their combined intellect.

I’ve often taken the firm position that I honestly don’t care that others think differently, as long as they’re actually THINKING in the first place. When somebody open up a debate with me using any of the bottom-rung talking points that this ilk holds in such high regard, the odds are that I’d rather eviscerate them than engage in a pointless and circular argument with these barely sentient hockey pucks.

I’ve touched upon this subject before, but in essence, I barely scratched the surface. As far as topics go, this one not only possesses an almost perpetual motion momentum as it’s theoretical underpinning, it also lends itself to a wide variety of approaches as to how one can write about it, and so far, this wellspring has presented as an inexhaustible source of literary inspiration. No matter which way you want to tackle the subject of this self-lampooning cult, you seemingly can’t go wrong, and for a dedicated writer like myself, that’s mental manna straight from the perfectly defined zombie-killing arms of Milla Jovovich.

Okay, it’s nothing like that, but it’s been at least ten minutes since I mentioned her online, and I have a daily quota to meet. By way of example, when one looks at Trumpism dogma, most of the horde that trusts it tends to post ideas and beliefs so mind-numbingly stupid that one has to wonder if the majority of their nutritional intake as children was comprised solely of lead paint chips.

But this is just the natural side-effect of when one deeply supports a man so widely despised that the best he can hope for when he dies, is to have his body interred in secret, so as not to have his grave violated. There’s a previous Artbitch honoree, a faux wannabe politician from Chicago by the name of *Frank Coconate, whose unwavering devotion to Trump despite the harshness of all the information that has come out, highlights my main point as if it was born to do so.

Amusingly, even though Senor Coconuts wound up eventually blocking me on the ol’ Facebook, due to my forcing him to rely on weak rationalizations versus hard facts to serve as his defense, I still have a more than a few sources who send me random screencaps of his stuff, mainly so I can mock it. There’s an old saying that goes; “Do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.”

By the way, this is truer than you know, especially when you look forward to correcting inanity in the same way a four-year old regards Christmas. And because he’s the perfect shining example of why we so desperately need to fund public education in this country like never before, I’d like to gleefully share some of his recent postings and ramblings about current events, if for no other reason than that they make me smile.

First up, here’s Frankie whining about being held responsible (yet again) for violating Facebook’s Community Standards- apparently, the guy who stalks the free website he trolls on like a politico version of The Zodiac, also lacks a basic understanding of how the clearly stated rules are applied to everyone who signs up for the service. But in his very limited defense, I’m also willing to bet he’s never read the Constitution either, which when you think about it, does explain a lot.

And if you missed it, he slurs whom ever turned him in as a “coward”, yet his role model is a cravenly shell of a man who needs a rally every three weeks because he can no longer sustain an election:Here, we see Frank parade out his longtime girlfriend, that being a diseased skank who goes by the name of Overt Racism. She’s not much in the looks department, but she’ll never fail to tell you that your baseless bigotry is damn sexy, no matter what that bitch Reality says. I could note that new immigrants are the number one demographic for entrepreneurship creation in this country, and that compared to his fellow native-born Americans, they also commit less crime, not that facts matter to Frankie in the first place.

Also, if as Frank and his ilk like to claim that true racism is a fraud, then why would he worry about being relegated to becoming a minority? In a city that according to the 2010 census, was charted as 45.3% White, 32% African-American, 5% Asian, 3% Mixed-Race, and 31.7% Non-Hispanic White, he should be just fine. Unless of course, minorities have a history of being treated bad in this country…Frank switches gears here, and showcases the hypocrisy that has infected the Christian faith as of late, by ignoring not only the “true” story of Jesus, but all of his teachings as well. Granted, I’ve never met the Dude, but he strikes me as the sort of guy who loved everyone, no matter what their skin color was, which in his case, was more likely closer to a shade of olive wood, rather than that of a Massachusetts WASP. And as a past Catholic,

I do have it on fairly good authority that he wouldn’t be cool with allowing kids to be put in cages or allowing them to die on concrete floors, either. Also, he’s not that big a fan of Christmas, because it doesn’t actually have a damn thing to do with him, and he has no idea who started that rumor in the first place.

And Frank, when you’re done fellating your never-opened Bible as a means to justify your own vile intolerance, take a moment to look up the following verses: Deuteronomy 26:5 & 27:19, Exodus 22:21 & 23:9, Galatians 3:28, Deuteronomy 10:19, Hebrews 13:2, Leviticus 23:22, Leviticus 25:35, and my favorite, Matthew 25:35. As the saying goes, “Y’all need Jesus.” And if you’re not even going to pretend to do what he says, then stop pretending you and he were ever tight.Oh boy… I always assumed that if I ever had an Uncle who while watching FOX had a stroke, it would sound a lot like this. Frankie ignores the numerous differences between the consensual skin-flute hum-job that Bill received and Donnie’s conspiring to obstruct justice, due to the fact he obviously doesn’t know what either is.

As an added bonus, he’s kind enough to let us all know that the phrase “African-Americans” is another way to identify people sometimes referred to as “Blacks”. It’s that kind of obscure educational trivia I’m sure we all find truly fascinating. And here I was, thinking there’s no way I was learning a new fact today. Man, is my face “Scarlet”. (“Red”)

A few things to dissect here. One, most of us do have a “dark side”, but unlike Bill Cosby a convicted rapist, it usually doesn’t center around willfully sexually assaulting vulnerable and drugged into unconsciousness women. Two, while accidentally mistaking a TG individual for the opposite sex at 4 in the morning, may be personally embarrassing for some, it hardly constitutes as being equivalent to the heinous act of committing multiple rapes.

And Three, considering he still thinks that a thrice-failed husband and reality TV show host is an actual President, I’m going to have to take his advice regarding African-American comedian placement with about a pound and a half of vanilla-laced salt.Can anyone else taste the ironic pretense here? She’s not qualified to talk about world affairs despite being surrounded by a cadre of qualified advisors, but a former reality TV show host who thinks that windmill noise causes cancer, that hurricanes can be stopped by the use of nuclear weapons, and who somehow bankrupted four casinos, while failing to successfully sell vodka and steaks to Americans, is?

A man so stupid that he can’t operate an umbrella, gets caught on a hot mic bragging about sexually assaulting women, and once said of his election coverage, “That was one hell of a night. I think it was maybe, you know, there are those that say one of the most extraordinary and exciting evenings in the history of television and the history of anything.” I really don’t even need to try and make a relevant joke here, as Frank’s unintentionally comedic hypocrisy is far funnier than anything I’d come up with on my best day.

Sigh… yes boys and girls, the King of POP was murdered by “greedy Globalist”, which is the singular, not the plural of the word. Grammar is unimportant when you’re overlooking the fact he might also have been a serial pedophile, and was addicted to a drug routine that eventually killed him, but there’s no reason why you can’t tack a ludicrous spy-novel take onto his tragic end, am I right?

The definition of a globalist by the way, is defined as such: “a person who advocates the interpretation or planning of economic and foreign policy in relation to events and developments throughout the world”, which naturally, make all of us not only think of the music business, but obviously Michael Jacksons’ career as well.

So, let’s take a rough tally here, shall we? Frank thus far, has shown us his affinity for racism and Christian hypocrisy, downplayed Bill Cosby’s rapes as him just having a “dark side”, and just opined that MJ was murdered by a lone and apparently greedy, globalist. I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I will say it again, but you have to stop pushing when the Q-tip you’re using to clean out your ears meets resistance, Frank.

Ok… I’ll give Frank partial credit here, even though his analysis as usual, is severely flawed. What would be more accurate for him to have stated, would be that major corporations scheming under the umbrella of a Globalist agenda, have leveraged their political and financial clout against the common citizen, to the detriment of some of our most cherished institutions. I do like however, that even when he’s on the right track, his innate hypocrisy still demands a seat at the adults table, nonetheless. The Democrats are bought and paid for, but the Republicans are not?

That is a truly full-on brass cojones kind of take on the current situation at hand. The one party that has in the last few years openly and proudly defended Nazis, pedophiles, murderers, drunk drivers, wife beaters, sexual predators, Confederate monuments, and outright treason, are somehow in Frank’s narrow estimation, wholly immune to being corrupted. This point of view is what develops when your TV only has one channel, kids. Take note, and invest in a good streaming service.

Some free advice Frank- if your personal attorney has told others of a credible threat to your person long before he informed you, it might be time to either up his retainer quite a bit, or start the process of getting yourself a new attorney. You know, one that doesn’t want to see your internal organs on the outside of your body? Just a thought.

As for the “threat” itself, I’m of the mindset that if an unsavory element in Chicago truly wanted you hurt, you’d either already be in the ICU, the river, or made into one of those deep-dish pizzas you guys do so well. Look upon this as a personal teaching moment, Frankie. It’s only a matter of time before your history of making arrogantly empty threats guides Karma to your doorstep and settles your account as a matter of principle.

But look on the bright side- you’ve been playing the wounded martyr card for so long,  it would be almost a Godsend of sorts for it to actually be justified for once. And as for “feeling like Jimmy Hoffa”, while his head is almost certainly stuffed inside an oil drum, yours is just so far up your own ass, that you can see out your bellybutton.

And finally, we can see from this posting that Frank has managed to blame both the Democrats and the entertainment industry for Iran’s logical counter-reaction to the wag-the-dog distraction his Fanta-colored man-crush greenlit. Call me crazy, but I can’t give any semblance of credence to the theory that an industry which has produced 12 Friday the 13th movies are in any way, shape, or form, partially at fault for inciting a possible war with Iran.

And you really can’t lay blame on the Democrats either, since the Fanta Fascist decided that rather than inform them of his brain-dead idea to launch a military strike, he needed to have his idiot son Eric tweet about it first. This is why when Trump talks about the Constitution, I feel the need to point out that maybe we need to as a country, explain to him what his powers actually are, using flash cards as a teaching aid

If there’s one thing we can all take away from this assemblage of abject paranoiac density, it’s that the Right’s often repeated disparagements of the Left being the “intolerant” side is at best, truly and exceptionally, disingenuous. I’ll be the first to admit and this willingly, that I myself, have a zero-bulls**t policy in place in regards to my interactions with what now tries to pass itself off as the modern Republican Party. I’m all for a measured and logical debate, but I’ll happily draw the line in my opponent’s blood if the core of their so-called argument is based on nothing more than racism, misogyny, homophobia, egotism, jingoism, xenophobia, and willing ignorance- you know, the things that as functioning human beings, we’re all supposed to not tolerate in the first place?

This does not even remotely equate to what the Right has tirelessly presented as a poisonous disregard for opposite points of view, because that’s a transparent deflection from what the actual issue is. One side promotes tangible values and fights to protect them, and the other consistently searches for scapegoats to blame for problems they themselves created in the first place. Does there exist a number of organizations on the Left who can be just as violent and intractable as some of the more extremist groups we’ve seen on the Right? Most certainly.

Monkeys are going to monkey, and all that, but the key difference is that you never see the Left at an ego-stroke rally comfortably aligning itself with White Nationalism, home-grown Militia groups, and small-tackle paranoiacs who need to strap on a gun to go get coffee, now do you?

And there’s other observations backing up my point of view that I can note here, and so I shall, if just for the sake of annoying the Trumplethinskins who send me physical threats as if they were handing out supermarket samples. Note the statistics when it comes to gerrymandering, political intimidation, voter ID laws, and the illegal purging of registered voters- it’s almost exclusively a standard go-to Republican tactic.

In addition, the conservative demographic has a solid track record of harassing sexual-assault victims who dare to come forward, are constantly attacking women’s reproductive rights, marginalize the LGBTQ community as they directly and obsessively try to legislate lawful discrimination against them, go after poor people and immigrants as if they have a hunting license to do so, and are perfectly okay ripping asylum-seeking families apart, all  for the sake of massaging their vulgar presidents petty and candy-assed Ego.

Truthfully, who are the ones always leading the charge against logical gun reform, student debt reduction measures, funding education, forcing corporations to pay their fair share of taxes, fixing the rigged medical care system, and any social program that benefits the poor, the elderly, and our veterans, who unlike many of the GOP Warhawks, have served with brave distinction? What party beats the over-funded war drums non-stop, but can never find any money to finance truly clean energy, fix our failing environment, feed the hungry, or house the homeless?

On top of this, let’s also call focused attention who’s usually instigated the violent incidents that have occurred at what should have been peaceful protests over the last three years. Shockingly, a political party that is seemingly okay with modern Neo-Nazis marching down American streets while chanting anti-Semitic slurs, doesn’t really have a moral leg to stand on when the subject of who’s really personally intolerant comes up for a serious societal discussion.

And when they crow about being Pro-life, know what they really mean is that they’re Pro-birth. If they weren’t, no one in this country would be hungry, sick, homeless, uneducated, have gone bankrupt from medical bills, or be watching the Kardashians for any reason. And at the rate these geniuses are ineffectively boycotting companies for (GASP!!!) acknowledging that their fellow humans have the same rights as they do and should be treated with respect and dignity, they’ll have to eventually learn how to grow their own food and coffee, brew their own beer, and make their own designer clothes and original movies, so that their faux morality isn’t triggered.

Look at it from the view of one who lives on Sesame Street, as in one of these things is not like the other, one of these things does not belong. One side shows up with hand-made signs, glitter, pink crocheted vulva hats and Pride flags, the other comes armed to the metaphorical teeth with guns, bats, paramilitary garb, riot helmets, and tear gas, all while waving the badly defeated flags of treason and racism.

And for once, I’m not talking about the Police, even though at times, they seem to be operating in coordination with these Sieg Heil goose-stepping faux patriots. For all of their propensity for spewing bile about the violence yet to come, this demographic is at the core of their candy-assed hearts, lowly cur spawns of cowardice at best. The same people who brag about how they’ll teach us “libtards” some manners sooner than later, are also the very same ones who’d rather play “I’m a Militia” in the woods, than join the real Armed Forces.

Anytime you see an American flag serving as somebody’s Facebook or Twitter avatar, it’s almost a certainty that you’re being challenged by someone too stupid to understand how a book works, and is also probably befuddled by the mechanics of bubble wrap as well.

But that’s not to say that we should ever feel completely comfortable turning our backs on these walking punchlines, though. Individually, this squad of boorish bullies are as dangerous as a glass of warm milk. En masse however, they can rapidly coalesce into a serious threat to life, liberty, and the pursuit of Truth, which is exactly what their puppet masters strive so hard to achieve. The standard modus operandi for people not cunning eno