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 |   Tales from real life |
| Well, if they're not true, they oughta be! |
Full disclosure: I would like to see failed insurrectionist Donald Trump disqualified from holding office in order to protect democracy and the rule of law. This ban should include any office, be it local, national or global. I would also like to see him barred from doing business in the US or abroad to protect his weak-minded and gullible base from his predatory fundraising. And I would like to see him excommunicated from any and all faith traditions as an amoral, sacrilegious, and unchristian infidel. As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't even qualify as human. Donald Trump's lack of character should be enough to disqualify him from the ballot, but there's no legal requirement to be a good person in order to run for office. So, the issue I want to explore today is the natural-born citizen clause in the US constitution. Hospital records show that on June 14th, 1946, Mrs. Mary Anne Trump delivered a baby and a turd. Unfortunately, the baby died. Mrs. Trump was inconsolable. So much so that she sent the turd off to military school, where it left a bad odor before moving on to university. No one knows how or even if, the turd obtained a business degree. All academic records have been sealed to contain the stench. Amazingly, the turd grew and prospered, becoming a huge steaming pile. And it was always presented on a fine silver platter so that none would dare to call it crap. Now you can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig. And you can serve a turd on a silver platter, but it's still a turd. The real point, however, is that a turd is not a natural-born person. And a turd, no matter how it's presented, is not qualified to be on the ballot in a presidential election. |
| I wrote this song parody almost five years ago. I had no idea that the orange oaf would reveal his man crush on Al Capone and make it even funnier today. The Ballad of Donny and Al (to the tune of The ballad of John and Yoko by The Beatles) Betting on casinos in Jersey, Atlantic City cash seemed so sweet. I kicked up a fuss when my dealers went bust. A stock scam put me back on my feet. Al, you know it ain’t easy, you know how G-men can be. The way things are going, they might incarcerate me. Working with the mob in construction, don't worry pal, the check's in the mail. Sell steaks on the side. or cheap Chinese ties, and Trump U grades the students pay/fail. Al, you know it ain’t easy, you know how G-men can be. The way things are going, they might incarcerate me. Moving into big time corruption, expanding internationally. Shady real estate deals are a license to steal, dirty rubles getting laundered up clean. Al, you know it ain’t easy, you know how G-men can be. The way things are going, they might incarcerate me. Gerrymandered voter suppression, they say that’s how elections are done. We got caught colludin’ with Vladimir Putin, but baby, it don’t matter, we won! Al, you know it ain’t easy, you know how G-men can be. The way things are going, they might incarcerate me. Lying to the people comes easy, self-dealing’s just a personal loan. Emoluments too are just a president’s due; but tax evasion brought down Capone. Al, you know it ain’t easy, you know how G-men can be. The way things are going, they might incarcerate me. Terrence G. Fisher 2019 Author's Note ▼ |
A More Plausible Version “Okay, you won this round, but I still think I’m on the right track,” Satan grumbled. “Heaping personal misfortune on Job may not have been effective but offering power to Hitler almost worked. And I did get his ‘good Germans’ to exterminate millions of your chosen people. Next time, I’ll finish the job.” “Next time? Why must this vain struggle go on? Will you not repent and turn back to Me? Is there to be no end to the misery that you inflict on My creation?” “You’ll see, this humanity you love so much will ultimately betray you. They’re shallow, greedy, and selfish. They love power and celebrity more than they love God. In fact. I’ll bet that I can corrupt the very people who defeated Hitler. Your so-called greatest generation will beget the Antichrist who takes them down. All I need is a man of privilege who gains power without earning it. An amoral man who can lie, cheat, and steal without conscience or compassion. A preening buffoon who isn’t taken seriously until it’s too late. And then, absolute power will corrupt absolutely. He’ll set himself up as an object of worship and the name of God will be utterly forgotten!” “You know that this is pointless, that it only causes needless suffering and pain. Pain for you as well as for them. Only ask forgiveness and it shall be given to you as it is to all.” “No, I won’t do that. I know they’ll betray you again, I'm sure of it. They ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge and brought suffering on themselves. They worshipped a golden calf, why not an orange moron? And anyway, we’re playing by your rules. We all have free will, so you have to let me tempt them.” “Very well, we’ll have another round.” And so, on June 14th, 1946, God covered Satan's bet and created Donald J. Trump to be his tool. |
Loathsome Loser (to the tune of Lonesome Loser by the Little River Band) Have you heard about the loathsome loser? Beaten by the Biden courts every time Have you heard about the loathsome loser? He's a loser but he still keeps on lyin' Sit down, take a look at yourself, Gotta ask 'just maybe it's me?' Garland's Feds are gonna lock you inside You have to face up, you can't run and hide. Have you heard about the loathsome loser? Beaten by the Biden courts every time Have you heard about the loathsome loser? He's a loser but he still keeps on lyin' "Led insurrection", least that's what they say He lost the election but then still tried to stay Keeps on searching though there's no votes to find Staked his soul and lost, now he has to pay the cost. Have you heard about the loathsome loser? Beaten by the Biden courts every time Have you heard about the loathsome loser? He's a loser but he still keeps on lyin' Hear the original: https://www.bing.com/videos/riverview/relatedvideo?q=lonesome+loser+little+river... |
Last month I posted some thoughts about the calendar: "Solstice Reflections"  .I described a perpetual calendar with 13 months of 28 days and a Solstice Day holiday to make a full 365-day year. Every fourth year would have a second Solstice Day holiday to account for our current leap year. The primary objection to such a calendar comes from the religious communities who are committed to a seven-day cycle of the Sabbath. Last week a friend sent a link to a post about early efforts to adopt such a calendar: https://www.ranker.com/list/strange-history-international-fixed-calendar/stephan... What caught my eye was a comment to the effect that weeks have meaning, but months are wholly arbitrary. That set me to thinking outside the box again. Why not make a calendar with 52 weeks and no months at all? We could coordinate the new year with the winter solstice* and simply count up 52 weeks to the next New Year's Eve. Of course, we'd still have to account for an 'extra' quarter day every year to keep our new calendar in sync with the solar year. But instead of a leap day every four years, we could add a leap week every 28 years. Most people would see only two or three leap weeks in a lifetime. This would maintain the seven-day cycle of the Sabbath and eliminate any serious objection to calendar reform. You may wonder about being almost a week out of sync with the solar calendar after 27 years. Is that a problem? Well, if we intentionally start day one of the new calendar three and a half days after the winter solstice, then we'd fall back into sync fourteen years later. And we'd be 3 and a half days ahead of the winter solstice when leap week begins. So, our new calendar would never be more than three and a half days out of sync with the solar year. That seems close enough for planting and harvesting crops. Global warming has already impacted growing seasons by several days in many regions of the world. Of course, using the winter solstice is not required. It's convenient, measurable, and near January 1st, but we could choose differently. Depending on your local culture, New Year's Day is observed in February, March, September, or October. Another possibility is to start the new year with the spring equinox when the green of new life appears. Personally, I could support using either the turn of the solar year at the winter solstice or the return of new growth at the spring equinox. Using weeks would seem weird at first, but many cultures around the world use different calendars. They have no difficulty coping and we'd adjust more easily than you might think. Would we miss our months that have been in use for thousands of years? Of course, we would. But instead of months, we could name the weeks. Wouldn't it be fun to have 53 named weeks instead of a paltry 12 months? *Note: This is written from the viewpoint of the northern hemisphere. A significant number of people experience the seasons in reverse of my cultural bias. |
The prospect of snow brings back childhood memories from when my dad delivered the mail on our rural route. He took the 'neither rain nor snow' slogan seriously and almost never missed a day in his 20-year career. One winter morning, we woke to 4-foot drifts and no school bus. Dad said no problem, we could just ride into town with him. We tried to get out of it, but Mom said go. So, we bundled up to brave the icy trek to school instead of relaxing with comics and hot cocoa. A mile of unplowed, uphill gravel road separated us from the highway. Some stretches were swept bare by the frigid wind, but there were also some deep drifts. Dad got up to ramming speed and busted through a couple of the smaller drifts, but he was stymied by a 4-footer about a quarter mile short of the pavement. There was far too much snow to shovel a path through, so he had to turn back. But that didn't mean giving up. It took a bit of 'rocking' the car back and forth to get loose, but dad was up to the task. You might wonder why he didn't chain up. Well, a man who knows how to drive in the snow doesn't need chains! The roads in the area are laid out in a grid along section lines, so dad tried again a mile further west. That road is more level, except for one steep hill. Dad took a run at it, but it was too slick, and the car slid sideways against the snowbank piled up at the edge of the road. This time we were really stuck. Or were we? Dad told us kids to get out and push, but sideways, not forward. We all pushed on the front fender of the car to spin it around. The road was pure ice, dad wiggled the steering wheel, and the front tires slowly slid in a 180-degree arc. We tried another mile west and dad finally found an open roadway that led us to plowed pavement. From there it was a relatively easy trip to school and on to the post office. We found that school was canceled and the kids from town had already been sent home. It was too late to do us any good, however, we had to wait for dad to come back in the afternoon. A few other kids were in a similar predicament, so we all had a day-long study hall in the Junior High building. A dozen bored students of various ages and one annoyed teacher who had to babysit made for a long day. At least the trip home was downhill. |
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