Tuesday, January 07, 2020

Caution: No brakes

Buttermilk may have had a wee stroke.  That's often the case when the part of your brain that should moderate and censor the worst of the madness has packed one bag and grabbed the next train out of the station.

"The only ones mourning the loss of Soleimani are our Democrat leadership and Democrat Presidential candidates," tweets Nikki Haley.  Listen, Honorary White Woman, the adjectival form is "Democratic."  I'll overlook it this time because you may not have grown up speaking English.  The lie is standard Republiklan bullshit, unless (let's say) fifty million Iranians have now been downgraded to less-than-human.  But excellent work positioning yourself to become Lindsey Graham with a vagina.  If your ghostwritten bullshit sells a few copies, that's good too, innit?

What is up, color-wise, with Trump's face?  Did Ivanka gag on semen and then puke Toblerone all over him, and he wuvs her too much to wipe it off?  One shade darker and he'll need white gloves and the lyrics to "Swanee."

Ricky Gervais has been embraced by the Rightzis for the courageous way he went after Greta Thunberg, Felicity Huffman and all those Hollywood Libs who didn't have anything heavy and wet they could throw at him.  I'm sure he never heard of Molly Ivins, but she would have reminded him that punching down is cheap.  Still, if Boris Johnson gets tired of being his own court jester, Ricky is ready to lick any low-hanging part of him.

Speaking of whom, all must read Nick Laird's "Blood and Brexit" in the New York Review of Books.  Don't be deterred by his grim account of growing up in Northern Ireland during the Troubles.  Push on to his breakdown of the Leave/Cambridge Analytica/Dominic Cummings/Robert Mercer/Nigel Farage tangle that brought the UK to its current mess.  All roads lead to Russia.

Would it be asking too much of the Weather Channel that they give the fucking weather once in a while?  You can sit there for an hour and get the shocking news of snow in North Dakota (in January), bad driving in Pennsylvania and of course Australia burning, but local temp and rain?  Can't be bothered.  Some American firefighters arrived in Oz yesterday to help, and Trump has thankfully been too distracted to offer advice about raking the Outback.  I wonder how the 6.4 earthquake in Puerto Rico will get blamed on the mayor of San Juan, in the top ten of his Nasty Women registry.  Where was I?  Weather Channel!  Every ten minutes, guys, and spare me the Polar Vortex talk.

The Guardian had an article about the astonishing cultural treasures of Iran threatened by the vulgar slob.  Not one features a golf course.  I think it's the usual oral flatulence, like all those threats against North Korea before he met Kim and the Tchaikovsky swelled on the soundtrack.  But were I in Istanbul I wouldn't even stop to buy a paper within a hundred meters of the Trump Splendorific Hotel and Bowl-o-Rama.

God damn it, Elizabeth Wurtzel is dead from cancer.  She rejected pity and wrote like mad on any number of subjects from Ritalin to Dylan, but I like to remember her for this essay on American stupidity.  She was 52, and what are you doing with your life?



















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