Trump, Committing Felonies

PRESIDENT TRUMP, on a daily basis, is committing an unprecedented number of felonies, openly, without hesitation. He obviously considers himself above the law, is acting acordingly, is a great threat to America, and should be removed form power, immediately. Each of his inumerable felonies merits indictment, prosecution, and, almost certainly, conviction. Trump's crimes are committedin broadlight, in front of the whole world. Trump has evidently decided, finally ralized, the trying to concel crimes does notwork, that it inevetabl leads to their being discovered, and the hiding makes it worse. Also, he knows that, as preident, he is almost totally, ond hundred percent immune from prosecution. Now, if he atually sot somebody down in he millde of he day on Fitfh Avenue, who knows? Most New Yorkers would probably just walk right on by it, without noticing. e also knows, however, he has to know, that he will instantly become legally exposed to legal prosecution, so he either plans to leave teh country when he leaves office, or he doesnt plan to leave office. It is not too early or or too crazy and unlikely to start talking about this, and to talk about it widely, with many people, and to have soem sort of plan just in just it actully happens. Can you, fo rinstance, imagine Trump, about a week before teh election or about a week before leaving office in mid January, suddenly ceclares that the United States is suddenly confronte with a great, grave threat, an implacable eneny from within or without, that is such an immediate threat to American national security, nay, to Ameruca itself! (He salutes the flag, shakily) that it has suddenly, surprisingly becoeme absolutely urgently necessary to suspend all normal government internal operations, such as transitioning to a new presidential administration, and devote full energies and attention to this horrible enemy, threatening America. NO time to break in a new president at a time like this, in other words. Maybe later. Ask yourself this: can you imagine yourself, sitting on your couch with a bag of popcorn, some nachos with jalepons, soft drinks and beer, and watching President Trump shake hands with the incoming president, a Democrat, and tell the audience, America, and the world that he, Donald J.Trump, is honored to have been your president, has done the best he could under all conditions, and now is pleased and honored to hand this extremely important job to his honorable replacemant, a lady of unparalled talent, intelligence, integrity, and capabilities. No, you cannot. You can't imagine, nor even remotely conceive, of such an event. You cannot even remotely conceive of Donald Trump leaving office voluntarily, willingly, happily, honorably, or even remotely decently, like a normal, intelligent adult, on January 20, 2029. You can imagine Trump hiding in the basement of his ball room, surrounded with I.C.E agents in full gear wearing MAGA patches on their uniforms, and you can imagine tens of thousands of screeming, angry, violent, well aremed red neck American idiots, a MAGA mob streaming down Pennsylvania Avenue from he Capitol to eThe White House, maybe, but you sure as hell cannot imagine Trump pleasantly hugging Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and saying, "congratulations, Madam President". America, all of it, Democrat, Republican, and independent, all Americans, must prevent Trump from pulling something, and you know damned well exactly what I mean.

Trump, Taking Control of AI

PRESIDENT TRUMP, in typical simplistic, childish, idiotic fashion, is all gung ho about Artificial Intelligence, and presenting himself as the people's champion of AI. So enthusiastic is he that he has already renamed it "super intelligence", like he renamed Lake Ontario "Lake America', and the Gulf of Mexico "The Gulf of America", and so forth.. His next step will be to claim that he invented artificial intelligence, and rename it after himself, like, "Trump Super Intelligence", or something. Trump, after all, like most far right wing extreme mentally ill demetia ridden narcissistic idiots, calls himself a genius.The CEOs of AI companies, all the real inventors of aritficial intelligence, and all AI scientists, are strongly urging the federal government to hurry up and regulate AI, to try to ensure that it won't someday take control of all life on Earth, and destroy it. Normally champions of unregulated corporate capitalism for profit, the CEOs are begging President Trump to save the world and themselves from Ai, by forcing it to slow down and proceed with advancement more slowlyand cautiously, since they themselves are apparently somehow incapable of doing so by themselves, without Trump's help. Trump is convinced that he and only he can and will take control of AI and force it to obey him, the Donald. Could he possibly be planning to use it to nelp him remain in the presidency for life after his second term is supposed to be over, to avoid the horrible fate of having to face justice in the court systme after he is out of office, for all the many crimes he has committed in his second term and before, and all the crimes he is committing now, day after day, such as his most recent blatant crimainal act; using public money to buy television advertising for himself, campaign ads? He knows that the Republicans sre desperately behind in the polls for the upcoming midtermns, and that if something drastic doesn't happen, we the American people are going to elect a heavily Democratic congressional majority, which will not only completely stymie his agenda during his last two years in offce, but will move to impeach and remove him. If he can somehow use Ai, with the help of his crimanal cult's inner circle of associates, to cancel the election of twenty twenty eight by declaring an emergency or martial law, he could in theory remain dictator for life, like Hitler, and avoid prosecution altogether. For Trump to champion and try to spearhead the unmitigated, unregulated super fast devolopment of AI is a policy probably more deadly and wantonly suicidal than his desire to continue using fossil fuels, and ignoring solar and wind energy, and keep digging all coal, natural gas, and oil out of the ground in every corner of the planet, thus making energy as cheap as possible and corporate profits as high as possible with fossil fuels only, thus destroyng all life on Earth with rampant, runaway climate change. Trump would flood the Earth's atmosphere with so much carbon that the Earth turns into another Venus, with temperatures of more than eight hundred degrees. It is possible. Trump will be dead by then, so it doesn't matter to him. Trump, signing an executive order using AI to perpetuate his power, by controlling the internet, using Ai to lock in his authoritarian power for life, and to thus commmit planetary suicide by drowning us all in carbon and heat sounds like a dystopian science fiction novel, but at the rate and in the direction events are prceeding, that is precisely the end result which currently begins to seems more and more possible, even likely. Getting Trump out of office now, before its too late, is more than mere political preference. It has become a matter of life and death.

Learning To Line Dance

LINE DANCING is like Bingo, either you love it, or you don't. Its one of those hobbies which can become a centerpiece of your life, and the basis of your social life. My hobbies of choice are reading, writing, and working out, all of which are for the most part inherently solitary activities, which contribute little to my social life. Oh well, so be it. I prefer cats anyway. I love stationary bike riding, but nearly a year ago my classic Schwinn Airdyne broke, and I have been planning to get a replacement. However, the senior center has a stationary bike, and since it is only two blocks from my house, I use it about five times a week. I do not, however, participate in either line dancing or Bingo, both of which are offered and are very popular.Two days ago I seriously sprained my ankle tripping over an eletrical cord, and I was devstated, thinking I would be unable to exercise, let alone walk, for everal days. I discovered, hhowever, that I could ride the bike without causing pain to my gimpy ankle, and was pleased as punch. While I was riding today, two members of the Semior center entered the tiny exercise room, for a line danceing class. A sixty something lady of oriental descent intended to teach a seventy five year old gentleman, a good friend of mine, basic line dancing. As I peddled lowy, protecting my ankle, she guided him through the basic steps and patterns one step at a time, and invaribaly, he meesed it up, failing to accurately imitate her. I was tempted to tell him "don't give up your day job", like he did to me one day recently when I did some impromptu singing. I missed a good ppportunity for revenge, but, well, I took the high roqd. My impression waa thet she was a luusy teacher, and he was a lousy student. Soon enough, I began to change my mind. He was improving, pretty fast. When I finished my bike ride I limped into the main lunch room, where people were listening to a hillbilly band, and some people were line dancing to its music. My student teacher couple joined the group, and did passably well. I was imprressed. My final opinion was that if he practiced the steps every day, he would become good at line dancing, and would also get in shape, and I told him so. Looking back, I am glad I took this approach, rather than the "don't give up your day job" approach, which might have reminded him of his joke about my singing, (I'm actually a very good singer, as many folks would attest), His reaction to my pay back would've probably been a chuckle, but maybe not, Maybe he would have thought me petty. He would have been quite correct. Amazing to think that I have been going to this small town senior center on a nearly daiy basis for more than eleven years, and, the bottom line is, I have made some friends there, but have also accumulated a goodly number of people who either don't seem to like me, or who I don't particularly like, and in many instances, both. The fact that I dress like a teenager, that I wear dozens of necklaces and rings every day, bling bling, and that I am a blunt, sometimes abrasive radical intellectual with a sophisticated academic vocabulary and education is not necessarily compatible with blue collar farmers and conservative Christians with little formal education. People who say "He don't know oothing", instead of "He doesn't know anything" are not my kind of people, and when I say things like "This hillbilly music is disagreeable to me, I much prefer more intelletually, artistically art forms, like classical music, Hayden, Mozart, and Beethoven, many if not most of the farmers and factory workers shy away from me, and give me disapproving glances from across the room. I am convinced that I belong more in a place like Cambridge, Massachussetts, or Madison, Wisconsin, college towns, full of progressives and egg heads. But then again, even academics possess and display the human characteristics which alienate me from humanity generally; pettiness, greed, arrogance, and condescending judgmental disapproval. The rule of thumb is; when a human being gets mad at you, he or she stays mad forever, as if it has become imprinted on neurological circuitry. It may take years to overcome this, if you choose to. Sometimes I choose to, choose to spend the time and effort turning an idiot's attitude towards me around, turning disapproval into warmth, by using conversational honey and suger. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. So, sometimes I prefer to just go home, and spend the day, and my life, with my cats.

Itemizing Fascist MAGA Ideas

YOU MIGHT REMEMBER, if you're good at "Trivial Pursuit" the infamously fatuous right wing shit list "Project 25", their nefarious plan to destroy America, if unwittingly, a semi-fascist litany of evil, according to which conservative Republicans "articulated" their intent, around the year 2020, to remake the United States in the image of the John Birch Society" and the KKK, by mid decade. Like many of the worst laid plans of mice, this absurdity failed to gain traction or achieve implementation, God save the Republic. Now, the party of Jackson, FDR, Kennedy,and LBJ has decided to take a shot, called "Project 28"...For progressives its platform planks are a breath of fresh air tinged with incense and marijuana smoke. To conservatives, its anathema, pure cow dung. To get to the point, its platform plans are, to wit: 1) Overturn Citizens United. 2) legalize aborion, nationwide.3) Enact term limits for SCOTUS. 4) eliminate the electoral college. 5) outlaw gerrymandering nationwde.6) Restore the media "Fairness Doctrine". 7) legislate universal healthare for all. 8) Prohibit stock trading by members of Congress. 9) Cap congressional salaries at 1.5 times the American median.10) Tax billionaires out of existence. 10) Tax mega churches, all churches with substantial income flow. 11) Raise federal minimum wage to $15.00 to $20.00 per hour...The Republican Project 25 was insane, as you might suppose. It included insane stuff like outlawing all cooperative economics, and socialism, and renaming America the United States of Christ. The United States of Jesus, something like that. (We'll vote on it). Project 25 worships and enshrines pure neo-liberal corporate capitalism, complete individual economic freedom, every man for himself, you're on your own, dog eat dog, low taxes for the wealthy, with strict enforceemnt of the Christian faith with required membership in a Christian church of your choice ( religiousfreedon!), as long as it is a Christian church. They embrace Christian nationalism, with the muscular macho all American Jesus Christ, waving the American flag and carrying a Bible, cross, and an M16 assault rifle, none of which had been invented yet while Jesus was alive and walking the Earth, or a very small part thereof. Apparantly America is turning gasinst all this Republican rubish; pools clearly indicate a sharply declining popularity for Trump, the Republican party and their platform and agenda, and the Democrats on the upswing. Overall the Democrata have anywhere from a nine to twelve percentage point lead, nationaly, all campaigns and elections included. The government is the Democrat's for the taking and, they need only aggressively get their party members to gt out the vote, and kepp the momentum going between now and the sooh forthcoming election. Turning Trump into a total lame duck dead duck would and will be among the greatest causes for celebration imaginable for anti-Trumpers, which, at the current rate, will soon include everyone. Trump, after he leaves office, might by that time have sunk to such a low level of approval and high level of ubiquitous hatred that he slinks quietly out of D.C. and into utter obscurity, or goes and gets another hit TV show, maybe called "The Incarcerate." More likely, he will go completely nuts, start ranting and raving, or rather keep on ranting and raving, claiming that thee lection was stolen from him by the Democrats and Bavin Newsome, or Pet Buttigieg, AOC, or whomever. Trump aint going out quiet and easy. We know that.He will not gracefuly and humbly hand over the reigns of government to his Democratic successor. He'll make trouble. Big trouble. At leasr sifty five percent of the Amerian electorate can and will put a stop to it, while the dwindling mob of MAGA Trump supporters scatter like cockraoches in lamplight, and return to the mansions, hovels, and holes in the ground whence they came.

Comparing Now and Then (Trump, Making Things Worse)

TWO YEARS AGO Biden was still president. Are we better off now, or then? Let's compare. Two years ago there were no "internment camps", as the Trump regime calls them, concentration camps where undocumented immigrants, having been summarily rounded up and removed from the streets and their homes, seperated from their wives, families, jobs, and friends. Trump's American Gestapo had not yet taken to the streets, although the I.C.E agancy existed, and had for a long time. The U.S. was not involved in any wars, at least not any that come immediately to mind, although with the C.I.A. up and running, one never knows. Way back then, the government, acting on behalf of the wishes of teh people, funded science and edcation, rendering American higher education the best in the world, the envy of the world, but leaving her public education improving, but still less than what we want and need, for reasons not necessarily having to do with money. Two years ago public lands were not being sold for pennies on the dollar to fuel companies, which we choe to misnomerically call "oil companies". Public lands and national parks were held sacrosanct way back then, natural reservations for the enjoyment of nature by all Americans and foreign guests. Internationally, we the U.S.A. were friends with Canada, Mexico, and Europe, largely because the president wasn't threatening to attack, invade, conquer, and annex them, which always helps. Gas prices under Biden were roughly half of what they are now, possibly because the president wasn't dropping bombs on any oil producing countries, or kidnapping any heads of state and their spouses from oil producing countries, and putting them in American dungeons and jails. Clean alternative forms of renewable energy were on track to replace fossil fuel climate destroying, wind and solar energy were accepted as good, witout a patological president inventing one false reason after another for abandoning them, reasons such as: the sun doesn't always shine, sometimes its cloudy, sometimes its night time. Two short years ago inflation was down, not up and going higherlike it is now. Back in that bygone era which somehow seems like oh so long ago, food was safer and cleaner. Why? Because it was more regulated by the federal government, and the Uptun Sinclair "Jungle" was under control. The federal regulates what it regualtes, things like business, human health and safety, working conditions, and a whole host of other components of public life, for a reason; to prevent corporations and private interests from cutting corners, cheating on safety standards, and doing whatever is in their power to do to cut costs to themselves and to get as many consumer products, goods and services into the hands of as many consumers as possible, for the highest price possible for the sacred cow holy graille of profit maximation and stock price enhancement and investment stimulus, safety and quality of productand consumer safety be damned. Under forgetful and sleepy Joe Biden, eveything, and hat means everything, was better than it is now. Under sleepy diaper dementia Don Trump, everything is wors now, by any reasonable, verifiable standard of measurement. MAGA cult members paying higher energy, food, housing, and clothing prices, will quite predictably stick their skinny, empty wallets in their back pockets, blame Biden for everything from Trump's impotence to Trump's disastrous foreign and domestic policies, and sing the false, fabricated, fantasy praises of their hero with thirty four felonies, because his racism, zenophobia, homophbia and misogyny suit them just fine.

Changing Dentist?

I HAD A RUN of good luck,which essentially consists of two circumstances. To wit, I discovered a big stash of marijuana, still sealed in tight professional serious unopened packages from a marijuana disersary in a state wherepot is legal, and marijuana stored are every frigging were, to my great delight. And, I was once again, after a long absence, able to log on to the internt and to this essay website/blog. So, I unwrapped one of the packages, an eigth, several small buds, a good quantity considering how potent it is, and transfered the skunk buds to a small bottle, loaded up a pipe with a bud fragment, took a hit, and got stoned. Then, I turned on my silver laptop, and managed to log onto the internet and this website, or blog, which is mine. Both of these developments thrilled the dickens outta me, and for that, to God presumably, I am most grateful. It all makes me wonder if I am truly losing my mind, maybe to Alzeimer's. Is it Prevagen time once again? The first time I noticed no effects. On my mind is my dental appointment later this week, routine, my teeth are in relatively good shape due to assiduously dentistry. Te problem is, every time I make an appointment, six months in advance, the dentist's office calls and reschedules my appointment. Every....frigging...time.., which really doesn't hurt me or do any damage, but it annoys the heck out me, I feel disrespected, and inconvenienced. I really like this dental office, but am starting to think I should switch, which would be a real bummer, causing my patience and tolerance to waver. I must respond to this situation intelligently and maturely, not with anger, stress, anxiety, and all that. The rescheduled dentist appointment is, really, no big deal. I make it a big deal out of it perpaps from pride, imagining, incorrectly, that they lack respect for me. They say that they reschedule me all the time because they have to reschedule somebody, and I only live two blocks away from them. I think, so fucking what? I have a schedule myself, or try to, and being rescheduled everytime, at anything, can be a bit burdensome, a hassle, if you will. I seem to be rather intense about "respect", feeling on a daily basis that people in general lack it for me. That, of course, does nothing to help me get rid of the stress, anger, and anxiety, which, in any event, are not really all that serious,and I think I can control them, since in essence I have all my long life. This essay is very different from the most recent few thousand, because it is a sit and type stream of conscious writing project, like you might see and get in a high school English class, or a college writing class. When I finish typing this sentence, I should probalby hit the "publish" button, Hand in my impromptu essay, to the teacher? No, o me. One thinks, and one types the thought, asbestas one can. My research paper ins ixth grade was on "snakes". That much I remember. I have tended throughout my life to remember every deail of it, permanently, Now, at seventy one, I am paranoid that I am losing my memory, Very paranoid. I will write every day and see what happens. The essays prior to this one are generally highly intellectual, I think my readers will agree, and this one is a bit crazy, whereas all the others, all six thousand of them or so,are really pretty damn good, nay, very good, exremely good, if I do say so myself, although they could have been and could be much better. I will tell my dental assistant that I am workng full time, over time, and traveling all ver the world, which is not true, but is what I want to do, so I probably will. Call me crazy. Remmi's dead, but I still have two cats, aging cats. When they die, I will either get three new cats, or go to Europe. Maybe do both, Europe first. But I want to keep writing to you, for you, whoever you are. I write for the same reason I run, exercise, work out, read, play tennis. Fun. I love it. But how bored are people who might by some crazy miracle actually read it?

MAGA Contradicting

A COMMONLY USED technique in an argument is to accuse the opponent of being hypocritical, of finding and pointing out internal contradictions in his or her reasoning. Sometimes it seems to work. Let's give it a try. As our case in point, why not use, say, MAGA? Here goes nothing, or maybe something. MAGA, like probably every political movement which ever existed, makes much out of its concern for the future, for our children, their education, proper upbringing, the whole spiel. MAGA, showing its deep devotion to kids, elected a demonstrated pedophile to the presidency, a confirmed child rapist. The social, economic equality of women is also on the agenda, several decades too late, but still there. Meanwhile , no fewer than twenty four women have accused the MAGA front man, Mr. Trump, of rape. An abundance of evidence and testimony supports this, well enough to have forced Trump into numerous out of court settlements with hs accusers,with a rape convection in civil court to his name and record. Then, moving right along, we have the law and order president Trump, the I.C.E man, law enforcement's staunchest ally, with thirty four felony convictions, and possibly many more to come, once he comes out from behind the protective cover of the White House. Like all poiticians, The Felon stands solidly behind, of all things, truth and inegrity, virtues he apparantly sees as being forefront in his personality resume. And yet, by accurate accounting, Trump told a whopping thirty two thousand lies during his first term alone, depending on which accounting firm you use, and his total in his second term is off to an impressive start, with lies spewing forth at a rate which might well earn Don the Con back to back MVPs; "Most Vociferous Prevricator". A vast abundance of bad verbal behavior is issuing forth form just below his orange presidential toupe' in terms of sheer number, sufficient to convince observant fans of the sport that, yes, if lies were base hits, Pete Rose's career record total would be in danger, with The Donald closing the gap fast, with still several years remaining on his contract, and in his checkered career in the game of deceit. Moving right along to the category of "Family Values, Guardian thereof", the reigning champion is still the inimitable William Jefferson Clinton, whose reverse sexual morality reached impressively notorious levels, both before, during, and probably after his sexually active presidential administration. No accounting of big handsome randy William J.has ever been formally presented for verification, but, a little research among former associates and colleagues produces oft duplicated attestations of horny Bill's "conquests"... Power, wealth, and fame, the big three, the terrible triumvarate, was in his corner from eearly his political career, way bck down home in Arkansas. He said so himself, when he quipped that the Republcians needn't have spent seventy million dollars proving that he is a sinner; the good folks in the "Land of Opportunity" would willigaly, cheerfully have told the investigators for free. In various historical epochs and cultures sexual promiscuity has been considered a great virtue, but prudish America is not among them, at least not in "decent society". Like Clinton's, Trump's womanizing resume has reached legendary proportions, and, once that happens, the genie never goes back in the bottle. The Christian conservative wing of the G.O.P. is forced to wince, turn its head, and pretend that it aint so, Joe. The "Its the policies, not the personal behavior that counts" ploy also can serve weell. Clinton got through two terms carrying his overnight bag and package of condoms in his back pocket, and Trummp is keeping tradition alive. Most men of wealth, fame, and power cannot reist leveraging their assets for sex, men being the animals they are. Mistresses and one nighters come with the territory, like bonus points. As Mick Jagger, himself a prolific fornicator said in a song: "it Aint the latest thang."

MAGA Podcastors, Turning On Trump

ACCORDING TO A REPORT on CNN, MAGA podcastors are turning against Trump. Such reports, base on polling and surveys, are neraly always reliable, as is polling generally, despite widespread belief to the ontrary. One might sarcastically ask: "Welcome to the club, what took you so long to join? Trump's polling is in the mid thirties, and falling precipitously, heading south into Lincoln and Truman territory.The difference is that Both Lincoln and Truman were great presidents and men of honor and integrity, and Trump is a pathological liar convicted criminal sexual predator scum bag, and so forth. Ironic, because both Lincoln and Truman, hated by many as all presidents inevitably are, are by current historical consensus among America's greatest presidents, with Lincoln a probable number one, and Truman checking in soilidly in the top twenty, even though this was not always the case. Presidential rankings rise and fall like animals in heat, depending upon the "zeitgeist" of the time period, and the values of an American society, which maintains a solid foundation of unchanging values, but also, can reverse itself with the drop of a condom. In order to sink far below water in approval ratings, a president must not only engender the wrath of a growing poliical opposition, but also, alienate those in the center, as well as the apathetic, the uninformed, the poorly educated. Is is that Trump's MAGA base has always known what a reprobate their iconic leader is, but are only now starting to come to grips with this reality? And if so, is this because in issue after issue, even his staunchest supporters are being disappointed over and over again by Trump's repeated failures? His MAGA cult followers do not like Trump's war of choice against Iran any better than anybody else, snd who could blame them? There is no discernible purpose for having it, other than to distract the nation from the Epstein files, or from the currently disastrous rate of inflation which negatively affects Trumpers as much as his majority opposition? At the grocery store and the electrical and heating bill payment cash register, MAGA-folk are being hit every bit as hard as the sane and decent anti-Trump majority. Like Bill Clinton famously said thirty years ago between extramarital trysts: "Its the economy, stupid". Its always the economy, genius. Americans vote with their pocketbooks first and foremost, and always have, and always will. WE blame and take it out on the president when we lose our jobs, fail to get a pay raise, or fail to find a new and better place of employment. Human beings have never been famous for logically discerning causal connections, and are likley as not to blame the president of the United states for everything from the death of the family dog to the wrong team winning the World Series. Millions of people have either blogs or podcasts, podcasts having in recent years caught up with and surpassed blogs in terms of how many of them there are; people would rather talk and blather than think and type. The general mood of podcastors is a proverbial canary in the mineshaft in American media culture; a reflective indicator of much else going on, on the internet, the media in general, and throughout society. Now, the midterm electins approach, and the Democrats are sitting at sixty percent, with a cumulative twelve point lead over the party of Donald Trump. Unless something drastic happens in the interum, look for either an inside job attack of some sort to hit the United States, or for another kind of fabricated disaster to necessitate the cancellation of the election and declaration of martial lsw by the Pedophile in Chief. Trump tried to violently overthorw the Amerian government the last time his side lost an election. This time, as a lame duck, he has nothing to lose except his power, wealth, fame, and centerness of attention. Who knows what he'll cook up this time?

Smoking Marijuana

I BEGAN SMOKING MARIJUANA in January or February of 1978, intrigued by it, inticed by a friend of mine who was devoted to it, and seemed healthy, happy, and successful. Not so much "peer pressure" as peer influence, or role modeling. Forty eight years later, I still smokeit, and still enjoy it as much. Even that occasional and well known paranoid feleing that comes with it is a bit of a thrill. I know, deep down, that all is well, I am fine. The fact that it has largely been legalized and is available is most states is a vast improvement both from a sociological and criminal justice point of view. t raises tax revenue too. As Lincoln said: "Prohibition gues beyond the bounds of reason, in that it makes a crime our of thngs that are not crimes, and attempts to control a man's appetites by legislation. Prohibition strikes a blow at the very foundation upon which our republic was founded." I laugh and smile nostagically when I remember how we used to hide behind barns and in closets to smoke, and spray our bedrooms and cars with Lysol after a toke or two. I can think of many dead friends who would've been better off smoking pot than drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes. I would have more living friends, with livers and lungs intact. True, smoking anything does not help one's lungs. Marijuana, however, famously expands the air sacs, cleans out the accumulated mucus, and was once the best and most commonly used treatment for asthma. When I was two years old, I had asthma so bad that my parents asked whether I would live, as I lay cold, frightened and lonely inside an "oxygen tent" in the late nineteen fifties, waiting for the world and its medicine to catch up to my needs. Eventually, it did. I probably love marijuana more now, or at least as much, as I did back then, in the faded jean jacket seventies. I have always and still do treat marijuana like fine wine, to be savored in small quantities, shared with friends at special occasions, such as hanging out with said friend(s). As far as I know nobody has ever died or been rendered chronically ill by smoking pot, although there are certainly people who disagree, mostly priggish conservative types. The fact that now I still love and enjoy it but can take or leave it is the perfect balance for me. I have to drive fifty mmiles across a state line to purchase it legally, which is a hassle if marijunnas is my only motivation. But I can make the drive, and visit my hometown, old high school friends, and my family too, killing several birds with a single stone, as it were. The shrunken asthmatic lungs i was born with have, over the decades, morhped into a deep thick chest with big, healty lungs, which require me, at rest, to inhale only about four times every minute. Daily exercise helps too, of course. Even when striding along at a good jogging clip on treadmill or wooded trail, my lungs cycle through in steady, slow form, not at all strained. I have to run a good healthy sprint to get myself breathing rapidly and deeply. I have noticed, for a long time, that marijuana sometimes dulls my ambition, makes me slugghish, and lazy. A little bit of that goes a long way, as I, like most Americans, smoke or no smoke, prefer being productive. Sometimes, it fuels my ambition and productivity. Go figure. With a bit of self dicsipline, I manage to manage that. I am not the sort to make dramatic, blanket declarations of intent, like "On January first I shall cease smoking, forever." Nor do I make New Year's Resolutions genrally.. I simply decide what to do, and do it, any day of the week or year. As Goethe said: "There is no sureer way to blunt a resolution than to keep talking about it." And, as we all know, talk is cheap.

Raking Leaves

TO MOST PEOPLE its a nuisance,an anoyance,even a migraine. To mie, its a rite of autumn, an damnedgood exercie for an older "gentleman". I refer to raking leaves on a one third acre suburban lot in a small town with about twenty mature maple and oak trees,which recently barely survived a massive drought, and let many of their leaves loose,to avoid dying, I suppose. Traumatized trees, trees in shock. The twenty or so deciduous treest I planted twenty years ago are fully grown, I hope,and my yard and my life are knee deep in maple leaves, much much too early in late summer, victims of he drought which have been somewhat alleviated, but probably not totally ended. For me, a positive thinker, that's a tip toe through the tulips. Their fate is a leaf by leaf affair, depending on my mood and the vicissitudes of circumstance and fortune. Some I rake and bundle up, for the garbage man's amusement. Others will remain dormant until I break out the lawn mover in early march.I don't want to pay anyone to do my yard work until I get too old and feeble to do it, which I hope won't happen until the day I die. So, I rake and bundle, filling trash cans and big plastic bags like a Republican filling the air with hot mess and lies...A few thousand years ago there was an estimated seven trillion trees on Earth, science says. Homo sapiens hs cut that number in half, and keeps going, madly, franticlly chopping and denuding. We aren't finished. Ten billion trees a year are human harvested. The good news is that some countries are belatedly but steadily beginning to perceive the problem, and make changes. Belts of new trees hundreds of miles long nd wide are being planted in China and all across North Africa.The day may come when sub Saharan Africa is a vast, verdant, lush forest, with climat change, and reverse climate change through human intrvention. When I planted trees all over the then barren yard surrouding my newly built house twenty years ago, my mother, understandably, predicted that I would live to rue the day. I can still see her point, but au contrar, dear mother, no regrets here. I am waging a small scale war against global environmental destruction. I would applaud anyone else for doing this; I'll let other people applaud me, if they can make the connection between my yard and the rest of the planet. Earlier today I told my neighbor that he and I will both live to see a summer in which the temperature rises to one hundred degrees by Memmorial Day, and largely remains there until Labor Day. His silence told me that eithr he thought I was talking crazy, or that he didn't care. I told him that it doesn't matter to me personally, that I will be dead soon, but that it sure as hell will matter to his children and now young grand children. Still no response. Americans don't care about global warming/climate change because they have air conditioning, and, well, it really isn't doing them any harm, so, so what, what's the big deal? Oh, but it is doing them harm. Food prices are already headed for the roof, as are cooling bills. Heat already kills more people in the United States and Europe, the places we care most about, than most other causes of death. And still we elect morons like Trump and other Republicans who will be dead in a few months and who lack the intellect and courage and integrity to accept reality. I'm seventy one, and can still run a fifteen minute mile. I should be able to rake leaves at least a few more years. My trees won't get much bigger, if any. I have the money to pay for yard work help, if it comes to that. So, it seems I'm set. Then too, as I mentioned, I'll be dead before humanity has to deal with and somehow survive climate change for real, or do someting to reverse it, which I, in my never ending optomism, think will happen. But, who knows? Either wewilor wewon't. i hope to live long enough to find out, but can't count on it.

Trump, Suing

DONALD TRUMP has been involved in thousands of lawsuits during the course of his ignominous life and career as a real estate scam artist. At last count, he is being sued approximately four thousand times, and is suing other people at approximately the same rate. After all, one requires balance in one's life. And, quite predictably, nearly all of these lawsuits are predicated primarly on money. Trump has a clever scam scheme in which he contracts construction companies to build things, and, when the projects, high rise apartments and so forth, are completed, he finds fault with them, and damands an unreasonable redress, monetary redess to which no reasonable person or businnes could or would possibly accede. Trump makes his litigation so irksome, odious, tedious, and burdensome to his victims that in most cases they lose steam, grow tired of hemmoraging money, run out of funds, and agree to settle out of ocurt, under duress and desperation, creating a circumstance in which Trump, his pockets still well lined and able to withstand years of possible extended future litigation, simply outlasts his exhausted courtroon adversaries, who, from sheer financial, emotional, and legal exhaustion, are willing to accept a settlement inimical to thmeselves, but less innimical than had they stayed the course, and attempted to confront Trump mano del mano ad infinitum. Trump wears down and wears out his legal adversaries. He is patient, and willing to wait to harvest his easy low hanging fruit, fruit that has fallen from the tree close, ready for a scavenger to harvest. Trump is indeed a scavenger, marauding through society like a gang of outlaws in late nineteenth century Arizona, or a carpetbagger in the defeated, prostrate, ruins of the post Civil War south. Trump is a vulture, preying upon carrion, the helpless and harmless, the defenseless. Jackels and hyenas come to mind as appropriate metaphoric animals with whom to compare the Donald, Don the Con. You don't want to be like Trump. Nobody of any character and intelligence does. Any normal human being, enbued with the slightest trace of moral human decency, steers well clear of living any sort of lifestyle which even remotely resembles that of America's most politically successful con man carnival barker. For a fact, nobody likes Donald J.Trump. Nobody in his immediate or extended family, none of his acquaintances or "friends" or associates of any sort want to have anything to do with him. Every book written about Trump is essentially the same. Hundreds of monographs detailing the utter moral depravity and ammoral criminality of a man whose entire life is devoted only to his own enrichment, seeking primarily to gain attention, his greatest addiction being to fame. The most insightful information about Trump comes from his niece Mary, who, with a doctorate in abnormal psychology, has her infamous uncle pegged to a "T", as we say. She describes him as indeed mentally ill, with the same extreme narcissism and pathological prevarication and lack of human enpathy which by now all Americans are so tiresomely familiar.The story of Trump is at once a comic opera and s Shakespearian tragedy of King Leer proportions, and future historical novels and historical narratives will agree that here was a man devoid of any positive human characteristics, a nearly perfect study in evil, one to rival Hitler, Stalin, or Caligula. And like these monstrous reprobates, future generations will marvel that such a demon could ever have existed in human form. When today's young adults are old, their grandchildren will be amazed at the stories they will hear from their grandparents. Edgar Allen Poe, in his grave, will be jealous that he missed the opportunity to put Trump on paper, in a macabre, twisted, terrifying narrative of pure, devastating darkness.

Losing Nature, Keeping Money

THE BILLIONAIRE CLASS is coming out rock solid in support of either getting rid of Artificial Intelligence, or ignoring, contemptuously, what it has to say. Our lords and masters seem woke to the fact that AI is a logical thinker who/which gives logical recommendations. It remains uncertain whether Herr Professor AI is a liberal or conservative, but early indications are that he/she is dead set hard core Mr. Spock logical, emotion free. That being the case, AI canot help but notice that both the American and global economies operate with crushing inefficiency, distributing wealth chaotically, haphazardly, whimsically, riddled with what economists call "externalities" which are unanticipated factors which intrude upon, inetrvene, and buffet the economy about, such as bad weather and warfare. Since society generally bows down and scrapes and grovels at the feet of the billionaire class, the high and mighty superhumans who simply must be superior because they have all that money, why shouldn't computers? The very moment AI suggests a massive, comprehensive redistribution of wealth for global economic efficiency, expediency and fairness, watch out! If on some fine weekday worday morning you and nobody else can log on to the internet, you'll know why. Big Brother, of the organic kind, has stepped in, zealously guarding the hoarded wealth of the one percent. At this point, dear reader, all bets are off, all possibilities are in play. If we naively don't think that "our" computers are becoming pefectly capable of organizing like an industrial waste collector labor union or Al Capone's "wise guys", we the people had better think again. Somehow you just suspect that AI, steeped in logical solutions to very real problems, is not going to take kindly to the one percent hoarding twenty percent of society's aggregate wealth, and the twenty percent owning eighty percent thereof. Economics is closely associated with human environmental impact, as a way of quantifying and describing it and its consequences. As things stand now, give us another five or ten years before we experience environmental collapse, if anyone cares to care. If not, well, its been real, and we'll see each other again on the other side, assuming there is another side.

Cults, Withering and Dying, Like Gods

LIKE All CULTS, the Cult of Trump will wither and die shortly after its dear leader and iconic savior, the dishonorable Donald J. Trump, has died and gone to wherever, and fails to rise from the dead, as he and or his worshipful cult followers dooubtless will wait with held breath for him to do. They won't wait as long as the still waiting Christian cultists, but long enough to be disappointed, which Christians, refusing to give up, refuse to become. Better to postpone the arrival-advent of the second coming of Christ, eternally, for centuries on end, than to give up, admit defeat, admit that their religion was and is, in the end, a figment of their fearful, hopeful imagination, a hoax, as we like to say these days. Trump has assumed a somewhat Christ-like status among his most hard core followers, above and beyond politics. Just as the hatred of his millions of enemies is predicated more on his obvious moral shortcomings than his right wing semi fascist politics and hatefulm insane policies, the adoration displayed by his loving sycophants goes well beyond politics, having assumed all the characteristics of a religious cult. The Christian religion began as another among many near eastern fertility cults, which invented and worshpped gods who would promise to bring nourishing rains and good harvests, sustaining the civilization in return for their worship. Petty insecure jealous gods invariably demand much attention, and worship, in true Trump like style. Humans invent gods with distinctly human like personalities, with all of the pettiness, insecurities, and jealousies we that humans are driven by. Yahweh, Elohim, Jehovah, depending on which book of the Old Testament is referenced, are the main names of the veangeful, wrathful, childish very insnsecure diety invented by the ancient Hebrews, in their own image, of course. WE invent gods in our image, and how could we do otherwise? There have been many more names of the flame throwing deity on top of Mt. Sanai, or atop other mountains. God must always be elevated, physically, above humankind. The Hebrew culure deserves credit for inventing the world's first enduring monotheistic religion, the second overall. The ancient Egyptians, having invented a sun god, Amaenhotep, Aman ra, Aknaton, around the fourteenth century B.C, a god which flourished for a short tiem, then was joined by a new panoply of gods, invented the frst monotheistic religion. One god was simply not enough, and seldom has been in history. People love dieities so much that s single one is seldom enough. The sun, the source of everything, and recognized as such by even primitive humans, is the source of all gods. The more the merrier. Greek and Romam gods numbered in the dozens or hundreds, Hindu gods number in the thousands, with each village and region of the Indian sub continent manufacturing its own highly specific deities, in terms of function. The Greeks and Romans only had so much energy and resources with which to build enduring granite monuments to thier favorite, most important Gods and Goddesses. The modern approach is to put all societal eggs in the basket of one God, for expediency. This keeps the unwashed uneducated masses content and passive, and allows for their easy subjagation to entrenched authority and power. WE await a less benighted future in which all the gods have died, and gone to heaven, or ground into dust.The death of the gods will liberate humanity from their yoke of emotional and intellectual self imposed bondage, and open the doors of perception to the possibility of understanding the universe and themselves for what they really are, whatever they really are.

Politicking

THE REPUBLICAN PARTY was founded as the "free soil", anti-slavery party in 1854, in Wisconsin. Abraham Lincoln was a founding member.Give credit where due. The "Grand Ole Party" has a well intentioned genesis. It went down hill in a hurry, as it was captured by big business in the post Civil War era of explosive corporate capitalistic expansion, the American industrial revolution. It has remained so captured ever since. The party of the wealthy elite, the Christian conservative party, is firmly entrenched within the bank books of billionaires. Of course, to a somewhat lesser degree, so is the Democratic party. Our great American uni-party, the party of property, Gore Vidal called them, the ruling wealthy elite, "our corporate" masters, he termed them, for good reason, accurately. The more things change, the more they remain the same, as the saying goes. Arguments can be made for the European political system, in which every country has a veritable plethora, a multitude of political parties, with shifting, temporary pro tem issue dependent coaltions, ranging from far left communism and socialism on the left, to conservatism and fascism on the far right. If you can't find a political home in Europe, you simply aren't trying hard enough. Since the United States is a nation of near European proportions size wise and population wise, with cultural diversity, somewhat, it should, arguably, have more than our mere two political parties. It should have several viable parties, all semi-major, all healthy, vibrant, and influential. Why not cover the entie spectrum, and truly represent everybody? Communists, socialists, liberal centrist, conservative, and fascist, with all of them viable and none dominant? The problem is the difficulty of forming a majority with the ability to actually pass legislation and get things done. Also, avoiding gridlock is an issue, gridlock which, in any event, we often have anyway. The chief benefit of the European systme is flexibility. The downside of individual politics, the hindrance, is fragmentation, atomization in which every man and woman is a political party unto herself, floating free upon the vast political ocean. In American politics a majority is easily attained, and readily stymied by the machinations of the minority. The founders intended that the minority have the wherewithall to act as a force to limit the power of, the "tyranny of the majority", as they put it. Otherwise, the body politic risks spiraling downward and descending into a one party tyrannical monopoly, as in fascism. We Americans need term limits, to prevent anyone from making a career of politics, from staying in Congress decade after interminable decade, effectively creating their own little fiefdoms, miniature kingdoms within their home stae from which they can go to Washington and wield personal power and influence in the legislative branch tantamount to a monopoly. When a politician has been in the House or Senate for three or four decades, and merely has to mail in his name to the election commission to stay in office, while his state's voters lazily succumb to his or her governing style and familiar, comfortable ideology, democracy stagnates, and said Senator or Representative becomes a sort of lord or baron, no disrespect intended towards the scion of our somewhat tyrannical current head of state. In short, a healthy democracy relies on a constant infusion of fresh, new blood. We are currently being governed by an elderly bunch, by our ancestors. Seventy and eighty year old career politicains do not adequately represent the interests of people under thirty years of age, to whom the future rightfully belongs. Jefferson realized this when he said that the American experimental republic would reuqire a revolution every generation, and that the tree of liberty would, from time to time, "require the noruishment of the blood of patriots and tyrants". We have reached that point several times before, one of which resulted in an internal domestic "civil" war of nightmarish proportions. Let's not do that again, shall we. Thomas Jefferson, after all, only goes so far. We Americans need term limits, which we actually already have, at the ballot box. No system is perfect, as we all know, and none will ever be, since God and Christ seem content to let us mere mortals stumble along in our ignorance, making and correcting our own mistakes.

Compassion, From A Car Hop, In a Wooden Box

TODAY I KNEW that I would want and need my Route 44 Lime Slush. Happy Hour at Sonic, as America knows, is two to four, so that's when and only when I go. Two dollars is less painful than four to pay for a styrofoam cup full of ice, sugar, and artificial lime flavoring.I love 'em. There is no accounting for taste, as they say. The drawback is that when its above ninety degrees, their slushy icey machine gets behind, and has trouble keeping the slush frozen, Nothing is less sexy that a half frozen slush of any flavor, as teenagers will attest. Today the slush came fast, not that it always does. School wasn't out yet, and that helped. The young lady who brought it was friendly, and asked: "How are you today"? My first impulse was to mechanically utter the obligatory "fine", or "good", which I did. Then suddenly, I decided not to prevaricate. Actually, not so good, I opined. My cat died three days ago, and I am still dealing with the grief. Her response was immediate. "I'll pray for your cat", she offered. And she did, right there in my parking space, between speakers. Her words escape me now. Flagging memory of old age and perhaps advancing Alzheimers. But her words were moving, inspiring. I thanked her, and told her, honestly, that her prayer had made me feel much better. I drove off with a four dollar cup of flavored ice for half price, uplifted and inspired by the brief but sincere prayer of a teenaged girl. Hours later, I still felt the same way. Somebody cares, and told me so. It was enough, nearly, to rekndle my long lost faith in the human species. I tell myself that nearly everybody has loved and been loved by a loving dog or cat, has suffered their loss, and that fully forty percent of the American people indicate on surveys that they much prefer the latter to the former, cats and dogs over people. And why not? The choice is between unconditional rock solid unwavering unshakable love and loyalty, or stinking, conniving, deceitful self absorbed human beings. That hardly seems a choice. Within a few days I expect the vet to call and tell me that Remmi's ashes have been sent back from the animal crematorium, I guess it is, and surely they will mail me a nice note of condolences, which will help. I assume the ashes will come in one of those pretty little varnished wooden boxes, with her name in gold plate on the front. Very lovely, very dignified. Remmi's remains will go up on the fireplace mantle, along side those of Jake, Shylow, and Diamond. I have only three little wooden boxes. My sister, older than I, says she has dozens, all in a place of honor in her lavish home. Other cats are buried in my front yard, along the fence, in a pretty place among the shrubery. I don't actually have grave markers; ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we all return to the elements, no mattter where we make our final repose, whether we make it in full body armor or cremains. My mom's cremains are buried in a cemetary on the same gravesite as her parents, my grandparents. Baby is home at last and forever, with her mom and dad, her parents that she loved so much. I never knew my maternal grandfather. He died in 1943, twelve years before I was born. My loss. I am told he was a prince. My maternal grandmother, 1892-1971, a true Victorian farm woman, was an angel, and she and I loved each other until her death, when I was sixteen. My mother and father knew full well that I love my cats and dogs more than any human on Earth, including them. They understood without negative overtones or hurt feelings. My grief at the loss of Remmi, now three days old, is finally, slowly, abating, a gift, and an indication of my personal strength. As you age, you toughen up, with experience. My father told me when I was 15 that as I lived my life, I would get knocked down, over and over again, and that I would get back up, every time. And so it has come to pass. I am now back on my feet, waiting for Remmi to return to me in ashes, to join my other bygone beloved kittens atop my fireplace, while I go on, ready, willing, and able to get knocked down yet again.