Sunday, October 30, 2016

Hey, getcha e-mails!

Calm down.  The FBI has always been political.  For years it regularly denied the very existence of organized crime while pursuing Americans for having incorrect politics, compiling dossiers on dangerous radicals like Leonard Bernstein and Groucho Marx.  Agents wrote anonymous letters to Martin Luther King, Jr., urging him to commit suicide.  Other agents spent countless hours deciphering the lyrics to "Louie, Louie" after the Director became convinced they were either obscene or seditious.  (Read the book by Dave Marsh.)  The sexual blackmail of politicians was routine.  James Comey is just subtler than J. Edgar Hoover. 

Comey subscribes to the Val Lewton theory of evidence:  You don't have to show the Cat People; in fact, you don't want to.  Drop hints, dim the lights, and make the audience use its imagination.  Really, are communications between Hillary Clinton and Huma Abedin likely to involve anything classified?  More likely "Out of the office this AM for dentist appt" and "Any thoughts on Bill's birthday party?"  But we won't see them for months, will we?  Meanwhile we can wonder what else is on a laptop Abedin shared with digital flasher Anthony Weiner.  (Do men in raincoats still jump out from behind trees, or is it all Smartphones now?)  Slaver, slaver, where's Ken Starr?  Oh, yes, at Baylor trying to protect rape-inclined football players. 

It won't make Trump any less repellant.  So calm down.   


Today's weirdness has nothing to do with politics, I'm pretty sure.
From Opera News:

"The Metropolitan Opera cancelled what remained of Saturday afternoon's matinee performance of Guillaume Tell after an audience member sprinkled a white powdery substance into the orchestra pit during an intermission...Following the incident, the company also decided to cancel the scheduled evening performance of Rossini's L'Italiana in Algeri."

The terrorism people are testing the stuff, but they seem to think it's the remains of a cremated opera lover, perhaps one who really hated Rossini.  It occurs to me that yesterday would have been the ninetieth birthday of the great Jon Vickers, who died last year and who really knew how to stop a show (most memorably by shouting "Shut up with your damn coughing!" during the prelude to Act 3 of Tristan in Dallas -- yes, he was Tristan).

No, that's just crazy. 


Thursday, October 27, 2016

Friday, Friday

When they go low (lower), I try to go high, but damn, I can't help wanting to see Scranton Joe take Lord Shitgibbon  "out behind the gym."  Apparently no one ever has, and a timely beating might have jarred him into some kind of emotional maturity; some people only learn by getting bloodied.  It's far too late now, of course, and it won't happen.  The Mean Widdle Kid only fights with his Twitter machine while hiding behind his monstrous regiment of lawyers.  If you raised a fist he'd piss his panties and cry.  Big talk, little hands.

Yesterday he dragged the ever-compliant media to Washington to provide free coverage of the opening of his new eyesore hotel, already known as the Trump Trivago because every room is available at a deep discount.  (Why cover real news in far-off North Dakota?  Leave that to Amy Goodman.)  As they fixed on their grimaces and cut the ribbon, it was clear that Morticia and the boys are desperate to get Daddy out of the family business before he runs through the rest of their grandfather's money.  I am now convinced they talked him into politics.  What, you think only Putin knows how to appeal to Trump's vanity and stupidity?  Who knows him better?

But, but, emails!  WikiLeaks!  Somebody at  the Clinton foundation asked somebody for money!  Let's have an investigation!  Let's bring it up at every opportunity!  Let's not ask why, if Julian Assange is not a rapist, he doesn't hurry back to Sweden and demand a trial so he can put it all behind him.  Not saying he is, not suggesting he and Trump share an attitude toward women or anything.  Maybe he likes living in one room in the Ecuadorean embassy.  London is a very expensive city, so maybe he's just cheap.  One more trait he shares with Trump.

Two more weeks.  That's what, nineteen polls?  Steve Kornacki, sleeves rolled up, in front of a map, eagerly relaying that nineteen percent of suburban, college-educated, left-handed women who live west of the Mississippi and east of the Rockies are still undecided.  He's just so excited, he reminds me of the Monty Python election night sketch:  "Can I just say this is the first time I've ever appeared on television?"  Which in turn reminds me of the terrible news that Terry Jones has dementia and is losing the ability to speak.  Some people have real problems, and we should never forget.

Speaking of hacker chicanery, whatever became of Edward Snowden?  Did he buy a house in Moscow?  How is he paying for it?  Somebody in Russia is mighty good at cyberinvading the United States.  Planting the seeds of suspicion and doubt -- it's what we do.

Giuliani:  "When I think of Hillary Clinton I picture her in an orange jumpsuit."  I won't dispute America's Mayor when it comes to prison wear.  After all, my father didn't spend time in Sing Sing.  Oh, too soon, Rudolph?  If only we had had a wall back then to keep the Italians out.

The first Hillary-is-a-lesbian claim has drifted in from the sewage farm, later than I expected.  Powerful women have been scaring the shit out of men for centuries, and men have retaliated by creating myths, often shockingly grotesque ones.  So far, Clinton has not been accused of having sex with horses like Catherine the Great, but keep an eye on Drudge -- it's the kind of thing his maggoty little brain would bring forth.

When FDR proposed increasing the number of Supreme Court justices so they would stop blocking his New Deal programs it was called "court packing" and the right basically went bananas.  Now the Republicans have threatened to keep the Court one justice short if they continue to control the Senate and if That Woman is elected, because wah wah.  As it is, Mitch "One Set of Great-grandparents Is Enough For Anybody" McConnell has held up the appointment of Merrick Garland for nearly a year.  The Republicans adore the Constitution so much, they only take it out and use it on special occasions.  And as has often been said, Trump is no aberration.  He is the apotheosis of Republican obstructionism, the Armageddon battle of their war on democracy, the triumph of fascism.  We have to make sure these mariners wear the Albatrump around their necks for all time.

On day one, President Clinton should appoint Gonzalo Curiel to the Supreme Court.  Impeach that, motherfuckers.

Friday, October 21, 2016

Double your standards, double your fun

You never refer to your opponent except by her first name, as if she were a servant, and then always preceded by "crooked."

You call her "the devil."

You propose disarming her Secret Service detail so that the "Second Amendment people" can solve your problem.

You mock her for attending a memorial service despite suffering from pneumonia, and imply that she has other health problems.

You claim she was "kicked off" a "Watergate commission," whatever that is, for being "corrupt."  At a charity banquet.

You demand she take a test for performance-enhancing drugs before the third of three debates in which she kicks your ass, and then abuse her because she prepared for them.

You accuse her of founding ISIS.

You accuse her of starting Birtherism.

You urge Russian hackers to steal her emails.

You promise at least once a day to put her in prison for some unspecified crime.

You invite her husband's alleged paramours to the debates.

When she suggests that you will try to weasel out of contributing to Social Security, just as you proudly avoid paying income tax, you whine, "Such a nasty woman."

You lying, foul-mouthed, self-pitying, racist, ignorant, cheap, grotesque, poisonous, cowardly, sleazy, stupid, treasonous degenerate.

Is that nasty enough for you?

Thursday, October 20, 2016

Let us prey

You may have been distracted by the debate (promoted as if it were Ali-Frazier) and the sneak-launch of Trump TV, but it's time to get ready for   the founding of the First Church of Trump.  I was surprised it took this long.  Religion has historically been the most effective way of extracting money from the frightened and the foolish, while giving them nothing but vague promises about eternity.  (No one has successfully sued a religion because grandma didn't go to heaven.)  It's tax-free, which must appeal to Donnie Deadbeat.  And if Trump likes the Second Amendment he's going to love the First, which basically says that the government can't touch any racket that calls itself a religion.  Quick, someone, tell him about it!

Believers who join at the Executive level will receive a free Gideon Bible from one of Trump's hotels.  The Deluxe Executive level brings them a Bible plus the Stations of Donald, fourteen heart-rending depictions of Trump being viciously attacked by Hillary, the media, the Khan family, Judge Curiel, Paul Ryan, Elizabeth Warren, Mark Cuban, Lester Holt, Gloria Allred, Megyn Kelly, that bitch Chelsea who didn't invite him to her wedding, George H.W. Bush, John McCain -- look, there may be more than fourteen because Trump has suffered so much worse than Christ.  And sacrifices, wow, believe me, so many sacrifices.  And at the Platinum Deluxe level you get an actual relic -- a hair, a fingernail clipping, whatever -- which you can wear with your "Hillary For Prison" shirt and be of good faith for the next four years.

Trump has proved he can bamboozle the evangelical CEOs (admittedly, not a major achievement), so it's time to lure away their customers.  Selah.


Monday, October 17, 2016

Gross indecency

Defending himself against another woman who accused him of "sexual misconduct," the Republican nominee said, "Take a look.  You take a look.  Look at her, look at her words, you tell me what you think.  I don't think so."  And the crowd howled its agreement:  not hot enough to molest.

Now being of a historical turn of mind, I was reminded of the second trial of Oscar Wilde, the criminal trial in which he was a defendant.  Asked by the Crown Prosecutor if he had kissed  a certain boy in a brothel, Wilde replied, "Oh, no, he was much too ugly."  Which implied that other boys had come up to his standards.  Which was a straight shot to Reading Gaol.  Which is known in legal circles as Not Knowing When To Shut Up, because you think you're the smartest person in the room, which in Wilde's case was probably true but still got him two years at hard labor. 

You are not the smartest anything.  In the words of Walter Sobchak, "Shut the fuck up, Donnie."

Or don't.

Saturday, October 15, 2016

Everybody must get stoned!

While I was unavoidably detained by Hurricane Matthew*, the Chicago Cubs moved closer to their first World Series victory since 1908 and Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize for Literature.  I have no questions.  I can no longer be startled by anything.  Just nod.

In other news that isn't news, Donald Trump is still an ignorant misogynist, racist, and danger to shipping.  You probably can't tell but I've been without television for a week and he is visibly fatter (Calvin Trillin thinks he wears a corset, accounting for the swollen neck and florid complexion).  A few more buckets of Extra Crispy and this could be academic by November.   Meanwhile he grunts along, his tiny paws still leading a band that sane people can't hear,  demanding that Clinton be tested for performance-enhancing drugs before Wednesday's debate.  The steady stream of women now accusing him of swinish behavior -- the Cosbys and Trumps never stop at one or two -- could clinch the election if they all voted in Ohio.  The party establishment continues to act shocked, shocked!, but even Claude Rains couldn't pull that off.  The only trace of humor at this point is the promise of game-changing revelations that turn out to be damp squibs, more hissy-fits from Julian Assange -- himself a fugitive from sexual assault charges, so you connect the dots.  And the crazy has no bottom.  Trump is the target of a Vast Conspiracy that encompasses the banks, the media, Carlos Slim (why?), Rosie O'Donnell, the Elders of Zion, Megyn Kelly, Paul Ryan, the Central Park Five, the Modern Jazz Quartet and his hairdresser.  Also Benghazi.

I only want it to be over, but I had a sick feeling even before armed Stormtrumpers stationed themselves in front of a Clinton campaign office in Virginia yesterday.  Trump has any number of these thugs primed to refuse to accept the results of the "rigged" election.  If you belong to a synagogue, a mosque or a black church, organize yourselves.  Buy weapons, get to a range and learn to use them, for November 8 could well be the American Kristallnacht, and you will be the first targets.  I know, I sound crazy, too.  I hope I am. 

*Not really a hurricane but created by the Army on orders from Obama to scare people into believing the myths about climate change invented by Al Gore and the UN.  Got it?