YES, THE GOP IS FULL OF S

In case you, my fellow Americans, haven’t noticed or have been hibernating for the bitter part of the past decade, the GOP is no longer the party of Ronald Reagan, or even of Richard Nixon. It’s no longer (except in name only) even the Republican Party — it has unquestionably become the Trumpism Party, and will remain so until sanity and integrity say enough is enough, and Trumpism is reduced to a disharmonious, petty cult. How long will that tune take? It LIES IN THE TIME it takes Trump supporters to look in the mirror and ask themselves: How Long Will You Sing….

…and I’m guessing that ain’t gonna happen anytime soon, even if their Great White Hope, Donald Jehovah Trump, is put on trial(s) and convicted of breaking laws he’s above. Meanwhile, back at the waiting room, I thought I’d compile a sort of sordid list of “S” words the GOP is full of, just for the (until) HELL (freezes over) OF IT:

sanctimony
scalawags
scams
scoundrels
scum
scurvy
seditionists
sickos
skunks
slanderers
sleazebags
sophists
speciousness
spite
spuriousness
subterfuge
suppressers
suckers

There, of course, comes to mind another “s” word I could mention that the GOP is full of, but why stoop to their level?

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU FISH FOR

When I was a lad of nine or ten,
I had two uncles who were fishermen.
One actually fished, the other told fish tales,
Like the one about the day he caught two whales.

Being still wet behind the ears,
I was into believing everything one hears.
Naturally, I now know his whale of a tale was in fun,
And I’ve come to believe he probably caught only one.

Yes, there was a time when fishermen were almost as notorious for telling whoppers as were politicians. Nowadays, of course, it’s no contest….but both continue to have one thing in common: the gullible still fall hook, line, and sucker for their troller whoppers. Fortunately, friends, you know as sure as my real name is George Washington that you can rely on my never telling a lie (though I have been suspected of writing one occasionally)….speaking of which, have you heard the one about the big one that got away? In fact, it’s gotten off the hook so many times, I’m not sure if it’s a trout or a Trump.

Well, you can’t win them all. Let’s face it: for some fish, life is ova before it begins. So, by all that’s holy, mackerel, isn’t it time to cast off the lies that bind and get reel — why put up with a never-ending pain in the bass? Wouldn’t you rather be gone fishin’?

BTW, did I ever tell you about the herring I caught that was hard of hearing? I asked if I could buy it a herring aid, but got no reply, so I ate it. Served it right.

THE STUPID SECTION

As we approach “March Madness” (college basketball’s NCAA tournament), I’ll be fan-atically viewing various games — especially my favorite team’s game(s). Basketball fans know that a time-honored college game sideshow is the antics (like raucous home team bias and trying to distract the visiting team’s free throw shooters) of the “student section”– which, logically enough, leads me to ‘post’ this piece about a time-dishonored sideshow of political games: the antics of the “stupid section” (in particular, the congressional GOP STUPID SECTION).

The current members of that section may seem oblivious to the stupidity of their antics, but evidently they’re just as shameless as they are stupid (and more about showboating than being serious about proving their points). Unless you’re foreign to American politics, you know the names of these losers: Marjorie Taylor Greene, Jim Jordan, Lauren Boebert, Matt Gaetz, Paul Gosar, and the true ha ha freshman and boldfaced liar of the class, Mr. I CAN’T (help but) TELL A LIE GEORGE “Washington” SANTOS. There are, of course, many other such basket cases….but you’ve suffered enough.

Frank-ly (and Nancy-ly), there is a much more winning way to do somethin’ stupid:

So, is there any hope that those congressional nincompoops will change their tune and learn to become wise to themselves? The only chance I see is if they transfer from Ignoramus University to the Kollege of Musical Knowledge….though I have my doubts that they can pass the entrance exam:

OK, Kyser — they’re all yours. You have my symphony….er, sympathy.

A PEER IN THE REAR-VIEW MIRROR

“True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country.” –Kurt Vonnegut

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Frankly, my dear friends, I don’t give the above quote a lot of codger cogitation, because to a geezer like me, such a discovery is ancient history. For one thing, I’m so old that most of my high school classmates are no doubt dead by now (as is Kurt Vonnegut). What’s more unsettling is when I think about the class of living nincompoops who seem hell-bent on ruining the country as they lust to run the country. Is it any wonder that I tend to look back with nostalgia at the GODs (Good Old Days) Before Trump….even though I know what appears in the rear-view mirror wasn’t always as heavenly as it’s cracked up to be. Still,

So I’m putting BLAME IT ALL ON THE MIRROR ON THE WALL (my last post) in the rear-view mirror, and looking at….

Yes, friends, I may be a graybeard, but back in the day, getting my beard shaved and my hair cut cost but two bits, which is twenty-five cents any way you cut it. OK, twenty-five cents won’t get you much of a haircut today, but I no longer have much hair.

So, when you’re old and gray and look back this way, I wonder what you’ll say about what you see today….and the price you’ll pay.

BLAME IT ALL ON THE MIRROR ON THE WALL

Do you sometimes wonder why we humans behave as we do? Shakespeare (through Cassius in Julius Caesar) has it that “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in the stars, but in ourselves.” But, true as that may be on the face of it, the question begs further reflection….

Yes, we can blame vanity for its part in the dark side of humanity, but is Vanity Fair game for ALL THE ILLS we read about, see, and experience daily (or monthly, as the case may be)? And, if vanity is not all, what’s up, Doc?

As it happens, I’ve just been perusing the latest (March) issue of Harper’s magazine, which addresses the subject in a very interesting piece titled MIRROR, MIRROR by Anouchka Grose, from which I quote:

“At the risk of oversimplifying, a human infant is uncomfortable in its own skin, which is why it cries so much. A baby can’t control anything much, certainly not its own body, and just has to scream and hope for the best. Then, at around six months–once their native cognitive faculties are sufficiently up and running–they are suddenly able to grasp the notion that the thing they see reflected back in a mirror is them. Not only that, but these creatures that circle around them–their family or whoever–are separate from them. Even more amazingly, they themselves are one of these beings.
This is an incredibly exciting revelation for a baby. The image it sees in the mirror appears more advanced and more perfect than the messy reality it inhabits; the reflection is a promise of future mastery. There’s a moment of absolute jubilation….followed by a lifetime of disappointment caused by trying to live up to the promise of that moment. That’s the tragedy of the human condition….”

So there you have it in a nutshell: if it weren’t for mirrors, we might not see the wisdom in the saying that ignorance is bliss — proving once and for all that….

ACHES AND PUNS

“I have suffered too much in this world not to hope for another.” –Jean Jacques Rousseau

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I get it. Rousseau knew what he was squawking about. There is so much suffering in the world that it is impossible to ignore (though some of us do our best to ignore the suffering of others). This doesn’t necessarily lead me to realistic hope for a painless other world….but I don’t know what I don’t know, so who knows? All I know is that ours is a world in which life isn’t fair — at least, for many (if not most) of us. But that’s a post for another day. Today I’m taking a whack at the wacky side of suffering….

Yes, friends, life can be a pain in the….heart — which, for those who have no heart (Putin and Trump come to mind) may be why their pain is so I-solated. For others, for better or worse, having a heart can be a curse:

Yes again, friends — life can put on you such a hurtin’ that it feels like the final curtain:

Friends, I don’t know how much more hurt you can take, so if you don’t mind, proper etiquette sadly decrees quitting while I’m a-head. Thank you for your very kind attention.

A BEVY OF BIRTHDAYS

February may be the shortest month, but it can boast of a long list of birthdays of the Mitch and Famous. But Mitch (McConnell), Kentucky’s rich and famous senior senator, was born on Feb. 20, and today is Feb. 15 — which has a lengthy birthday list itself, including the following (with year of birth) who have come and gone:

GALILEO GALILEI (1564)
CHARLES LEWIS TIFFANY (1812)
SUSAN B. ANTHONY (1820)
JOHN BARRYMORE (1882)
WALTER DONALDSON (1893)
HAROLD ARLEN (1905)
CESAR ROMERO (1907)

Of the above, the first four are probably the most famous, followed by the least famous, Walter Donaldson….and yet, he is one of the most prolific hit song composers of all time — not only in terms of quantity, but of dead serious songs such as this 1929 dirge:

Harold Arlen, if not for his score for THE WIZARD OF OZ, might be just as forgotten as Donaldson, but he has written many other quality songs, such as It’s Only A Paper Moon, Stormy Weather, I’ve Got The World On A String, Blues In The Night, and That Old Black Magic. He was also a fine vocalist, as in this rendering of his own composition:

Last, but least known for singing (much less, writing) songs, is actor Cesar Romero — but I have nonetheless caught this Latin lover in the act of singing a love song with words written by a lyricist who died in February (1970). And so it goes….

Speaking of Latin, if you dig the first clip best, here’s how to express it: Caterva carissima mea est Mortui Grati (My favorite group is The Grateful Dead).

Adios.

IT WAS ICE WHILE IT LASTED

In the good old days BR (Before Refrigerators), people kept their food BRRRR cold in ice boxes, which were insulated cabinets or chests with a section for ice blocks delivered by an iceman, just as milk was delivered by a milkman. Judging by this song, if the lady of the house didn’t pay the delivery man C.O.(L)D., things could get frosty in a hurry:

Although it seems the milkman got a warmer reception than the iceman….

My adv-ice, then as now:
Always keep cool, any-how.

.

WHYS GUYS

“Why, if there’s a God in the sky, why shouldn’t He grin/ high above this dreary twentieth century din?” –NOEL COWARD (from his 1933 composition TWENTIETH CENTURY BLUES)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Why, I wonder, should God even bother to grin, given (by all that is holy) that He appears wholly indifferent to and above the din of the 20th (and every other) century’s inhumanity? For crying out loud, is He blind and deaf? Or is He but a divine misanthrope?

Unfortunately, my fellow fall guys and gals, your lowly and humble muse can’t answer these maddening questions here and now….but I promise to get back to you after I’m dead and gone (Lord willing and the meek arise). Meanwhile, here are some slightly less inscrutable Whys from guys who were able to deal with them (after a fashion) before they went the way of all flesh:

On a lighter note, what could be more apropos than a melodious question asked by a holy trinity of male song writers (Maurice Sigler, Al Goodhart, and Al Hoffman) and sung by a glorious trio of sisters:

We end with Why Begin Again?

I give up. Why?

THE STATE OF THINKING

thinking cap n. A state in which one thinks, esp. carefully —Webster’s New World Dictionary

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I don’t know about your state, but I don’t think the “red” state I live in bothers to do much thinking — or it wouldn’t be a red state. But, GOPolitics aside — and being in a thinking state of mind — I thought I’d do a thinking post today, including quotes about thinking by thinkers whom I think know what they’re thinking about. But first, here’s a thought-full ditty to get you in the mood:

There is no expedient to which a man will not go to avoid the labor of thinking. —Thomas Edison

Few people think more than two or three times a year. I have made an international reputation for myself by thinking once or twice a week. —George Bernard Shaw

When all men think alike, no one thinks very much. —Walter Lippmann

Ours is an age which is proud of machines that think, and suspicious of men who try to. —Howard Mumford Jones

There are two ways to slide easily through life: to believe everything, or to doubt everything; both ways save us from thinking. —Alfred Korzybski

When men talk, they seldom stop to think; when women talk, they seldom think to stop. —Evan Esar (sorry about that, ladies)

Men can live without air for a few minutes, without water for about two weeks, without food for about two months — and without a new thought for years on end. —Kent Ruth

Many people have eaten and drunk themselves to death. Many people have played themselves to death. Nobody ever thought himself to death. –Gilbert Highet

For God’s sake, don’t let us think. If we did, there would be an end to society. —Lucas Cleeve

But there will be no end to this post without one more song….

….or (on second thought) two….

Here’s thinking of you, kid.