(Reblogging Michael Jochum) The Man Who Forgot the Room (or, Clots and Prayers in the Oval Age of Confusion)

 

Let’s talk about the photograph taken today, President Donald J. Trump, sitting slack-jawed at a table, eyes half-closed, posture melting into his chair like a wax figure left too close to a Florida window. This isn’t a retired celebrity sighting. This is the current President of the United States, looking for all the world like a man who has forgotten not just where he is, but who he is, and why the room around him keeps stubbornly refusing to turn into a golf cart.

This is the man with the nuclear codes.

This is the man making life-or-death decisions about wars, alliances, famine, immigration, climate, surveillance, and democracy itself...

Not a thankful day for First Nations peoples

I am observing a day of remembrance and mourning for our land's Native Americans. Her first stewards, who loved her, and the cultures we destroyed and women and children and innocents we slaughtered so we could steal their homes and colonize, pollute, and desecrate.

Never forget. It was theirs and we stole it. It belonged to the Choctaw and the Blackfoot and the Nez Perce and the Apache and the Mohican and the Aztec and Inca and Maya and the Inuit and the Miq Maq and so many beautiful civilized nations.

We should really clean it the fuck up and give it back.

"The time has come

To say fair's fair

To pay the rent

To pay our share

The time has come

A fact's a fact

It belongs to them

Let's give it back.."

-Midnight Oil, Beds Are Burning, about the destruction of Australian aboriginal cultures, but it suits our US and south and north of the the border massacres as well.

Embolism now, please. America is waiting.

Not really, since you'd go to fucking Club Fed and live like a goddam king in there.

I'll be happy if you get the death penalty in a court of law as a result of your treason against the US Constitution and your oath of office. I'll be happy if you have a massive fatal embolism during one of your insane and unhinged tirades.

I will be happy when you're in your grave through no help of any but legal channels or your own poor health choices. This is not a threat. This is a prayer. Please, God, prove you exist, strike down this blaspemous, hateful, cum guzzling, son of a whore QUICKLY! Stop his heart with extreme prejudice. Make it painful, make it hurt, make him SUFFER.

Either that, or I will be happy when you lose absolutely everything and are living in a single room occupancy coakroach infested hell down by the fucking docks, subsisting on top ramen and tap water until you die, alone, forgotten, unloved, and unnoticed until your corpse stench informs the nation that its nightmare is finally completely over.

My health is incredibly poor, and right now, my only goal in life is to keep my heart beating and my lungs pumping for 24 hours AFTER your shit stops, you motherfucking slimy, cocksucking, ball nibbling, dog fucking, cat shit eating bastard.

Why? Because I HATE you! M O U S E.

Sedition! Sedition! (picture Tevye here)

 

I'll be FUCKED if I'll be lectured about 'sedition" by the "leaders" who brought us January 6th.

Definitions

 

Charlie Kirk was NOT "assassinated".

Martin Luther King Junior was assassinated. JFK was assassinated. Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.

That motherfucker was SHOT. Like the rabid fucking dog that he was.

Don't fucking smoke

Folks.

I swore I would never do this, because it annoyed me when other people did it to me. But it needs to be said. It needs to be shouted from the rooftops.

Do not smoke. Don't ever smoke. Not even once. Not even occasionally with a beer. Just don't fucking do it.

Here I am with COPD, unable to catch a full breath after stepping one step to my bedside commode to go pee.

Smoking absolutely contributed a major MAJOR part to my steady downward health slide, and if I could turn back the clock and smack that first cigarette out of 14 year old me's hand, I would do it so fast and so hard the bones might break.

If anybody you love smokes, nag the FUCK out of them to quit. Don't let up. Be an annoying asshole. We are junkies, and we need to be browbeaten into getting our shit together.

And if you smoke, move fucking heaven and earth to get off that shit. If I can help you, I will. I am always here for cheerleading and emotional support as you journey to healthy lungs.

The less time you smoke, the less damage you will do. I smoked for 44 fucking years. In a few years we may be discussing my lung tumors, I just don't know. We're not there yet, but I fear it will come.

Do not be like me.

It is time to shout out the truth.

 

Thank you, Deb Colburn, owner of Nomad, Cambridge and pretentiousl;y fake 79 year old hipster with the screaming fire engine red hair, the stupid glasses, and the designer dogs, for showing me a complete tour of your naked vagina, clitoris included, when I was five and you were 21, and encouraging me to hold and rub your boyfriend's penis and testicles when I was seven and you were 23 or 24. For breaking wooden spoons on my ass. For telling everybody I was a crazy liar so that they didn't believe me when I told them what you were doing to me.

For driving a wedge between me and my sister, and my father. For driving my mother away, then abandoning us when you had your own kid.

I hope you die bleeding painfully from your asshole.

I think I'll send this letter to the Cambridge Chronicle, Boston Globe, and WBZ news.

Bet you voted for Trump, too. Cunt.

Shit is going to get real, Deb. I won't hurt you or encourage people to. I'll just drive you batshit crazy.

Pneumonia

 I could not breathe worth a damn for a couple of days, and finally had a major crisis where I could not catch my breath at all.

Called an ambulance, they started oxygen and took me in.

Long story short, I have pneumonia.

I'll be here for a few more days, but I AM going to be fine.

THE “TOLLWAY OF DOUBLETHINK" (Reblog: Robert Hawks)

I was walking this morning, turning over yesterday’s little political vaudeville act in my head, Donald Trump stepping out with great fanfare to announce that, in the spirit of lowering your Thanksgiving grocery bill, he’s rescinding tariffs on agricultural imports.

Touching, right? 

Marjorie Taylor Greene Didn’t Become a Hero. She Just Became More Dangerous (Reblog Michael Jochum)

Marjorie Taylor Greene is not having a “moment of clarity.”

She is not awakening.

She is not evolving.