Do you suppose that Donald J. Trump even realizes how insulted he was in this picture? He was just handed a “Yes you are! Yes you are a big-boy!” envelope for all the world to see. What a colossal jack-ass!
Another hero of the revolution, Kathy Griffin was raked over the coals for holding up a fake Trump head dripping with fake blood (he now has lots of real blood on his hands). Bee called Ivanka Trump a “feckless cunt” for not pushing against her father’s terrible immigration policies. Both of these women are high on my good-graces-list (what ever that is) for fighting back against centuries of male aggression and subversion. The scary part about it is the Barbie-dolls on the network news talking about “beyond the pale”. This is the WASP version of a woman so programmed that they will put on a suicide vest under the burka and self-detonate.
Cunt is a good old Anglo-Saxon word, but the term “feckless cunt” clashes. Feckless is sort of brain-dead and waffling. Cunt is much more aggressive. It, I mean the word cunt, is probably correct in Ivanka Trump’s case given her passive aggressive manipulation behavior, but feckless just does not work. I think a better slam on her nature would be Loki’s diss on the Black Widow in The Avengers movie. He called her a “mewling quim” while she was playing him for information. Shocking for a Marvel movie, it means the same thing as feckless cunt though more on the whiny side, but at least the majority of those “beyond the pale” folks would have had to look up the word quim.
I am starting to gather a few more heroes who are real these days. This is good since I once wrote a poem with the line “my heroes all came from comic books.” I need more real people who are doing things against male ignorance and bad behavior through-out human cultural history. I have Traci Lords because she took a bad hand and made the porn industry tremble. Now I have Stormy Daniels who actually had the courage to fess up to letting a stinking rich pig like Trump touch her and having the good sense to hire an adequate attorney. Kathy Griffin is on the list for hanging in against brutal kick back after offering artistic-hope to the resistance of the same stinking rich pig criminal and his evil cabal, and now Samantha Bee for trying to call a spade a spade in a degenerate death dynasty feeding on hate and exploitation of greed as a cure for despair.
My grand-daughter is a fifth generation “Westerner” which might mean something in a weird sort of way. I am old and worn out now, but I thank God (whom so ever She, He, It, or They are) there are people fighting back against those that will attempt to exploit and use her. I hope I get around to teaching her how to shoot before I die.
As the John Wayne character put it in She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, “Never apologize, it is a sign of weakness”. We are fighting a cultural-war against economic oppression and ignorance on many levels, but in the beginning of the seventeenth month of being stalled out in the trenches, I am starting to see some walking wounded who will need to step back for some R & R before they head back to the front to continue the battle. Heal up, lick the wounds, and get back on that horse again: please!
“Not a puppet! Not a puppet! Not a puppet!” D.J.T.
The strings are invisible, and mostly of the mind, but once one learns to see them, one can find a way to cut them.
Proviso: If you wish.
Restriction: Be careful of the muscles and ligaments, they help one move.
“Hyperbole does not turn lead into gold anymore than gilt brings back a golden age.”
it would be a comedy if it was not so scary . . .
Even in the boonies where the deep state lives (the people are the deep state) they are starting to smell a rat.
Bridge Troll in Seattle
This is an experiment in saying essentially the same thing in two different forms: Prose Poem vs. Exposition. I prefer poetry, but I really need to work on my prose if I want to write those adventure stories about treasure, monsters, and the people caught in between.
Trolls: Prose Poem
I have grown fond of the term “Troll” on the web; I might even be one. I live between Midgard and Asgard under a Rainbow Bridge. I am fairly certain I am not a “bot”, or an android. My body wishes it was an android as the aches and pains grow more pronounced. But if I am a troll under a bridge, my parents never taught me how to take toll. I get nothing from those that cross over.
I mostly just sit by the fire and listen to the traffic, the foot clomps that keep me awake or awaken me from a deep slumber
Just when I was getting use to the idea that my comments on Facebook might make me a troll, I looked up the term in Wikipedia. My view of trolls comes from Tolkien, and they turn to stone when caught in the sun. I have been called a “troll” once at least in the last fourteen months, but not a “bot”.
According to Wikipedia:
“a troll is a person who sows discord on the Internet by starting quarrels or upsetting people, by posting inflammatory, extraneous, or off-topic messages in an online community (such as a newsgroup, forum, chat room, or blog) with the intent of provoking readers into an emotional response or of otherwise disrupting normal, on-topic discussion, often for the troll’s amusement.”
I am not that. I am just a poet with an opinion, and as the old saying goes, “opinions are like assholes, everybody has one.” When I originally set up my blog it was to explore the webs potential to introduce my writing to people outside of the traditional methods of hard copy publication going through magazine and journal editors, or even publishing houses for longer materials. I tried that route for years starting in the early nineteen-seventies. I have a whole list of rejection slips with wonderful lag times of weeks if not months before those works went out again. What I did finally manage to get published never built an audience and without an audience publishers do not go out of their way to print your work or go out of their way to promote you.
The web seems like a nice way to build an audience before turning back to the print world again.
I have set up two blogs, one is just a vestigial organ now, and the other at WordPress is still active. I set up a web persona just to add some mystery to my work. The persona became more active when I set up a Facebook page to help promote the blog. I have yet to post a Tweet to see if that can drive traffic. I am still trying to figure out how Twitter works. I have an old brain and nobody has offered an upgrade yet.
When the Trump administration was installed with the help of FSB money, trolls, and bots, Facebook became my way of at least stating a quick opinion in the comments section. It made me feel I was rallying those of like opinion and voicing some hope and wallowing in my despair until my works in my blog at least caused a ripple in an audience. What is an old poet to do while we wait to exercise our right to a peaceful transition of power in government via the two-thousand eighteen November election and the American people can at least try and vote out the supporting structure of Congress in this horror story of corruption and exploitation.
It has been a very long time since I have been around an active war zone or a coup. I have actively avoided those for forty years now. My intelligence gathering goes back to what would be called the diplomatic community, but I worked for a very long time as an information specialist until I found a real job dealing with the solid waste flow, fighting the war on garbage professionally. It develops an odd perspective of society and leaves the mind free to wander. I will have much more time as I approach retirement to put all that information into written form. I like to think of it as writing my memoirs, but most of it will be fiction. That is the stuff that I want to be trolled and boted (is that even a word, to be boted?) by forces that I piss off. Maybe I can develop readers. Facebook and Twitter are just tools for me. I guess I am exploring new mediums.
In the movie Blazing Saddles, Gene Wilder is leaning over Cleavon Little’s shoulder consoling him after being bad mouthed for being the black sheriff of Red Rock:
“You’ve got to remember that these are just simple farmers. These are people of the land. The common clay of the new West. You know . . . morons.”
At which point, Little cracks up.
That is how I like to see people who are not trolls or bots but do not like my comments. But I do not write them to provoke or create discord. That is useless, and any amusement I can get from discord can be found in the news, and it is not amusing. As far as changing opinions, beliefs, only time can do that or growing as a person. Some people just have to learn the hard way.
The web is a powerful tool and like all tools, they can wind up in the hands of people who abuse them, you know, morons. But in clever hands, trolls, bots, propagandists, governments, religions, intelligence services, advertising agencies, salesmen, conmen, etc. it can be deadly unless everybody pays attention to how to use it as an information source. This may be a totally new event in the evolution in humanity. We were all just lucky enough to be born in interesting times. I thought movies were a powerful medium. I thought newspapers, magazines, television, and radio were powerful. I thought just talking to people if you have the gift of gab was powerful. The web transfers data without a beginning or end, without much chance of stripping the data apart and putting it back together to see how and why it works. You have to do that with the written word, you have to do that with film, and eventually you have to learn to do that with everything, the web included.
I am getting pretty old, it is probably time to grow up, learn how to deal with the new world we are living in. Sure I have some experience, but I cannot move as fast as I use to. The web presents a totally new mechanism for my creeping senility, an off loaded memory machine. Mine as well as everybody else’s. Like in studying literature as I was taught in school, a person using this off loaded memory machine has to watch out for trolls, bots, and liars. Just like we are supposed to have learned about life in general growing up. I guess I should have suspected, growing up never stops.
As an experiment, my preliminary observation is that poetry is shorter.
I am not an expert, and I do not play one on TV, but an old word popped into my head today: sedition.
Since there is no legal charge for collusion in Trump’s instillation in our government by a foreign power, though in all probability he conspired with foreign moneys to do so, though he still has not been “proved” to have conspired with them. He does not seem to care where his money comes from, so criminal and foreign funds would be fine with him. He fell down that slippery slope to criminal behavior a long time ago. In his mind it would be just business. He might even pass a polygraph test on that because he probably does not think of it as conspiracy against US laws. He believes business is above the law, hence his desire to deregulate. Conspiracy is however a valid charge.
Treason does not work as a charge in Trump’s case as we are not at war. A person can only be treasonous in a war.
So I looked up the word sedition today. There is actually a Sedition Act of 1918.
Wikipedia says that sedition is:
“disloyal, profane, scurrilous, or abusive language” about the United States government, its flag, or its armed forces or that caused others to view the American government or its institutions with contempt”.
Groping the flag on stage, being “smarter than the generals”, and “draining the swamp” sure looks and sounds like contempt to me.
His tweets alone would convict him on the “profane and scurrilous, or abusive language”. Add his probable money laundering and probable tax fraud, I would call that a case of causing “others to view the American government or its institutions with contempt”.
Somebody out there with some legal chops should really look into this charge, and tag it on the every growing list. Hopefully somebody in the resistance will explore the issue, run the word through the media gristmill a bit. I am getting tired of the seditious Donald J. Trump folding his arms in a defensive posture and driveling about “No collusion”. He needs a new word. I would take “No conspiracy”, but I would love him spout off about “No sedition.”
Latin: freak of nature
The Elephant Man, at least in the film, reaches a point when he cries out “I am not an animal, I am a human being!” He is a human with a deformity and has been an outcast all his life. He longs to be a normal member of society, to fit in. From Quasimodo to Phantom of the Opera, film and literature offer us legions of outsiders damaged either by nature or society who just want to belong again. I still go back and forth if society and nature are two separate things by now. Has Social Darwinism removed humanity from the natural order to the point where any form of evolution for good or ill ultimately is our own fault?
Fairly recently I started toying with the idea of modifying the Elephant Man’s statement to “I am not a human being, I am an animal!” This would start to get me away of some of inclusions in social behavior which are coming to be fairly loathsome of late. Legislating other people’s morals and ways of life with the barrel of a gun is just one of them. People-kind’s long history of trying to separate themselves from the other fauna and flora of the world is another. My being an animal again might be a good way to get back to one of the early oaths in my research of sorcery, e.g. “I shall endeavor to be more than human.”
Since the factions in support of the Trump Administration came into power almost fourteen months ago, stress has risen to a level which has not been felt in a very long time. Worst of all, nobody has been able to alleviate that stress with any degree of success for any serious amount of time. This causes problems in our society as our governing bodies are being crippled to the point where they will soon no longer be able to deal with the outbreaks of violence and despair that are growing ever more evident. Perhaps it is just that we see more of it now that we have the Web.
We will all have to wait and see who comes out on top through this totally new state of America’s identity. Will it be the forces of law and growth through an orderly process or will it be the lust to ravine and kill all of those you think are wrong around you. I see a little of both in the future, but I have always been wary of how the media is used to sway things into the normal phase and keep people compliant. I have been overwhelmed by the amount of information being presented and numbed to the point that I fear that our current government is being normalized. There are ups and downs on this hellish ride.
I am starting to have longings for a form of punishment under the law, if the force of law win, which would violate the Eight Amendment of the Constitution, the one about “cruel and unusual punishment”. It is probably just the stress of the last fourteen months without getting closure in the most successful attack on our Constitution ever.
If any of you have seen the nineteen-thirty-nine version of the film “The Four Feathers”, the main character goes to some extreme measures in returning the four white feathers which are badges of his cowardice by disguising himself as a Sangali tribe’s man who has rebelled against the Khalifa. Since this tribe failed in their rebellion, the men were branded as traitors and their tongues were cut out. I have always carried this image of the damaged and dumb beggar in the bizaar since I was a child.
It was reinforced by real blinded and damaged beggars in the same kind of places where I learned how deceptive a government controlled press can be. I had only the English version of the Pakistani Times to read about the nation’s events. It was not until I could access the freer information sources of the US diplomatic community that I learned just how wrong my understanding of what was going on was. This was before I graduation from high school during the Indo-Pakistani war of December nineteen-seventy-one.
The reason I bring up the concepts of cruel and unusual punishment in the form of a crippled beggar on the streets is I am starting to think that in this instance, instead of prison where all of the Trump Cabal will hopefully wind up, maybe we should take an insight out of Proverbs or the Hammurabi Code. There have been far too many financial crimes against people in the world during my lifetime where the criminals have been fined, or imprisoned for millions of dollars stolen and thousands of lives destroyed. Yet all these financial crimes just have grown larger with new ways of hiding the moneys so that people cannot get reparations or justice.
It might be time to start thinking in terms of deterrents as well as punishment. I cannot help but think that if a few of these mega-dollar criminals had their tongues cut out and were blinded with a sign around their neck that said “thief” to wander around Wall St. and the stock exchange to beg, they might set an example for others. If the Shkrelis and Mandoffs of the world had been punished like this for securities fraud, would people like Manafort, Putin, and Trump be in the positions they are today after years of money laundering and embezzlement through off-shore shell corporations. People have held up the death penalty for years as a deterrent to crime. It does not do so, but maybe seeing these kind of people on a daily basis by the moneyed-gentry might at least give them pause.
I know that nothing stops people’s desire and ability to do wrong. As I say, it is probably just the last fourteen months with no closure from these criminal’s attack on my country and peace of mind. Seeing them wounded and wandering the streets is just a fantasy. Months of mass shootings, Trump chirping up about “bombing the shit out of them” and “death penalty for drug dealers”, Chinese, Russian, and US incursions into economic and political battlefields, espionage and assassination reactions, withdrawal of safeguards to prevent this kind of financial crimes, government incompetence and corruption on a cabinet level, the rise of racial tension while people are squabbling over the corpse of Charles Manson (He wanted to start a race war remember), it is just testing my patience.
I chose the term losus naturae for the title of this piece because it means freak of nature, and I said I have not been able to decide if nature and society are two different things yet. Trump is a freak of society. He and his cabal are a mutation that we should all have seen coming, maybe we did and were just too complacent in the hope that things would work out. I know I was. I should have been working on these problems more actively for the last forty years, now my old age is going to be work, work, and work. Ah well, as the senility and the pain creeps into my body and mind, it will give me something to battle until they scatter my ashes to the wind.
The word monster has become such a cliché that I went looking for a new word. That is where I found losus naturae; Latin makes a body seem wise but pompous. I thought of using the term chimera, like the hydra it is something that a person can battle. Jason had to fight one to get the Golden Fleece. The freak of society, Donald Trump, is a monster, maybe even a chimera. I would not want to be the pathologist that has to dissect him. I have a queasy feeling in my stomach just thinking about him in one piece. I just hope that there is a history left to break him down into his creepy parts.
What to do when you are listening to different news groups telling you yes, no, and maybe. Try to listen to the voices that give you hope, but do not believe them until you can prove to yourself that event did come true. Do not beat yourself up when you find out you were wrong. Learn from the mistake, pick up the pieces, and build a new belief system: repeat.
Try to learn to not lie to yourself, other people will do that for you. Try and also remember that when people are telling you the truth, they may also be telling you the truth for a reason. Ask them why, and when they answer, try and figure out if they are lying to you or themselves. “Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.”
Think of life as a desert and remember “in the desert, no man meets a friend”. Try and remember on that long Silk Road to enjoy the caravanserai when you find them.
When you have been living in the darkness for a very long time, it is painful when someone turns on the light. It is possible to forget while learning to use your eyes again, that sometimes people fish with torches, sometimes they hunt with spotlights, and nocturnal animals are frequently found as blood stains on the highway having frozen in the headlights.