HYPE-OH-WHAT-A-MESS

The following meaning comes courtesy of the ghostwriter of THE DEVIL OF A DICTIONARY, a book of definitions and proverbs by the late Ambrosius Beericus, who died adages ago but is still with us in spiritus:
HYPE-OH-WHAT-A-MESS (not to be confused with HIPPOPOTAMUS, a thick-skinned, fat-bodied, hairless member of the genus mammalis): a cross between a hype-ochrondriac and a hypocrite, as exemplified by Donaldo Trumpotomus, a thin-skinned, fat-headed, hairbrained member of the genus ignoramus politicus.

In other news, The President of THE NATIONAL TRIFLE ASSOCIATION, Wayne La Peeinthehair, has announced that a contribution in the trifling amount of 99 bizillion dollars and two cents has been made to the re-election campaign of Donaldo Trumpotomus because the nation cannot afford four years of sanity, competence, and integrity under Josephus Bidenopus and Camelus Would Harassus. This news was immediately applauded by the nations evangelical leaders, who believe in the separation of church and state of government led by people who don’t have faith in Jesus Televangelicus Miraculous.

Mean-while, back at the White House, Donaldo Trumpotomus has granted an interview to that Randymous guy. Let’s listen in….

And there you have it. Sorry, no refunds.

PIED FEIFFER

pied, adj.  of two or more colors in blotches — Merriam-Webster Dictionary

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Another post, another autobiography (or memoir, going by the book) to review — this one titled BACKING INTO FORWARD, by Jules Feiffer. But I am not so much going to review this 2010 book as pass along some thoughts from it, which, I think, are worth thinking about — relevant, at least in part, to current backward, black and white, regressive times.

First, a brief introduction: FEIFFER (born Jan. 26, 1929), is a Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist and writer who was born and grew up ‘between a blotch (of angsts) and a hard place’ in the Bronx. Having a controlling mother, little interest in school and no athletic ability whatsoever, “Fear was the principal emotion of my childhood. I hid in my sleep. I hid in my dreams. I revealed myself only in comics, which were the embodiment of my dreams.”

In his teens, he was influenced by his older sister, whose “crowd was fast-talking, fast-quipping, mischievous, left, meaning far left in their politics, their taste in books, art, movies, and just about everything else.” Marry this influence with his passion for cartoons, and you have the seeds of the man and cartoonist he was to become (the engrossing details of which you will have to read in the book).

Now for some of those thoughts I previously mentioned and now quote:

Over the years I have been asked how I came to make certain choices. How did I know? This choice as opposed to that, this direction or that? Much of my life as a young man was spent ignoring or delaying choices. The choices I made were due to running out of time. Backed into a corner, a choice was made because I no longer had a choice not to. Having nowhere to go, I spot the one open window and jump through. Choice to me is much like Butch Cassidy and Sundance escaping a posse by jumping off a cliff. They jumped. And survived. It was the right choice. But when it’s not, you’re dead.

Up until I was drafted, I had found that I could survive under any circumstance, no matter how unnerving, degrading, humiliating, or demoralizing, if I could understand the unwritten rules, i.e., the culture that was beating up on me. Whether it was family, school, sports, work, sex, I was accustomed to getting knocked down, picking myself up, and starting all over again. But in the army I was on unknown ground. After five months something went terribly wrong. They transferred me to train me to operate and repair radios on the [Korean] front line–in other words, to be killed. Radio repair was indecipherable to me. I saw no good reason [for] this assignment. As Vice President Dick Cheney explained when asked by the press why he hadn’t fought in the Vietnam War, “I had other priorities.” Yes! Yes! Me too!

It was heartbreaking to watch [Jerome] Robbins go into his HUAC dance. The acting chair of the House Un-American Activites Committee, a somber, ministerial-looking fake, asked Robbins at the start of his sworn testimony what he did for a living. Robbins stated that he was a choreographer. The chair did not understand the unfamiliar word. “A chori–chori–chori–what exactly is that, Mr. Robbins.?” Robbins explained that it was something like a dance director and named shows he had choreographed, from On The Town, his first musical, to The King And I. The members of the committee seemed delighted to have this fancy new word to play with. As each one took his turn questioning Robbins, he took a crack at pronouncing “choreographer.” The point, made to the cameras for the heartland, was that loyal American don’t need highfalutinn words. No! Loyal Americans needed but one thing, fealty to God and country. Loyal Americans wrapped themselves in the flag.

Called soft on Communism, liberals quieted down about witch hunts and loyalty oaths. Called eggheads, they dumbed themselves down. Displays of wit were repressed as too highbrow. Accused of cowardice in the Cold War, liberals began appraising countries to invade. Vietnam was a liberal war. The Republican Dwight Eisenhower refused to be sucked in. But Eisenhower was a general, a war hero, he didn’t have to prove his manhood. John F. Kennedy, although a war hero, was a liberal Democrat. He had to prove his manhood. Kennedy couldn’t afford to let the Russians think he was incompetent and inconsequential, which they might well have concluded after the Bay of Pigs. The Soviets might move on Berlin because of Kennedy’s perceived weakness. Before they could make such a move, Kennedy moved on Vietnam. As much of a disaster as the war proved itself to be, Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson, after him, could not get out. To cut and run was not an option for Democrats because it would make them open to attacks from Republicans.

Enough. Or was/is it? Politics being politics and the American electorate being the American electorate, we now have the grotesquely cartoonish Donald Trump….so let us close with this (for what it’s worth):

FOOL PROOF

fool’s paradise, a state of contentment based on delusive or false hopes. –WEBSTER’S NEW COLLEGE DICTIONARY

A fool’s paradise is a wise man’s hell! –Thomas Fuller, English churchman/historian

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July 13 is FOOL’S PARADISE DAY. If ever there was a day to get a handle on the “state” Donald Trump adherents live in, this is that day. Other than living in a “Fool’s Paradise,” how else to account for them being oblivious to what is patently obvious: The Donald is a sick excuse for a human being (much less a President) whose lies, corrupt morality, bullying, ethical poverty, and colossal narcissism do not matter because the economy happens to be booming (“booming” to whose benefit is apparently beside the point).

Fortunately for America, I know a few eye-opening songs to bring a “fool proof” Trump adherent to his/her senses if he/she will only give the songs’ words an ear and take them to heart….which shouldn’t be asking too much because, as we all know, Trumpies would give an arm and a leg to do the ‘right‘ thing for their country. Left with this admonition….

….how can the devoted Don fan of November 2016 (having now been exposed to cool cats, and hopefully less gullible) not begin to think in terms of Don the Con Man and ask….

Cool cat or cool fool, still believe The Donald hasn’t played you for a total sucker? Pause and consider this Trumpian truism come election day, November 3, 2020:

Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.

 

I BE NOMINATED FOR THE KIESTER AWARD!

Friends, I am proud, humbled and honored to tell you that I (will) be nominated for the Kiester Award for blogging (over, above and beyond the call of duty, no less). Yes, friends, I foresee that you will see fit, after reading this, not only to get off (or on) your kiester, as the case-ster may be, to nominate me….but also to kick yourself in the kiester for not doing so before. So, though your awakening may be in arrears, it is appreciated.

But I’m conflicted, friends. It’s not that I’m ungrateful for the Kiester that you are aching to bestow upon me; however, there are others much more deserving. I would therefore caution you to control yourselves, because worthy as I may be, it’s only right (wing) that you should nominate someone with far superior qualities, such as:

THE DONALD — aka The Orange (T)error. America’s bully boy and wall nut who is able to leap (t)all Republicans in a single bound and make them kiss his ass in a single tweet. Drains swamps by filling them in with b.s. Loves everyone (who loves him), but retains Godfather complex (for those who don’t).

THE MIKESTER — aka Straightarrow Mike. Joined to The Donald at the hip while being the least hip VP in American hipstery. Even a dog couldn’t be more loyal. Leading contender for the Cardboard Poodle award.

THE MITCH-ELAINE MAN — aka Monotone Mitch. The Blue Grass State’s gift horse to the U.S. Senate. Was once caught smiling, and vowed never to smile again. Doesn’t parrot The Donald as much as The Mikester, but is nonetheless for the birds. Married to Elaine Chao, Secretary of Transportation in the horse’s ass administration.

THE HUCKABEE WASP — aka Sarah the married Spinstirrer. White House Press Secretary and daughter of White Anglo-Saxon Protestant Christian Minister and former Arkansas governor, Mike Huckabee. Read her lips. She may not be a dummy, but The Donald’s got her back (or is it the other way around?).

DUMBO THE UGLY ELEPHANT — aka The GOP. It’s the body the Republican Party has become since The Donald took power, as Ronald Reagan turned over in his grave. Who knew Ronnie’s reign as President would one day turn out to be, not only The Good Old Days of fond memory, but the elephant in the room, the ghost of civility past?

In closing, friends, a few of you may think I misspelled Keister, but in my dictionary, Kiester is also acceptable. Spelling can be like pronunciation:

MARK TWAIN ON DONALD TRUMP

I recently came across the Mark Twain quote, “When in doubt, tell the truth.” It gave me pause, because it timelessly suggests why Donald Trump has no scruples when it comes to telling the truth: he is never in doubt about anything he thinks (or wants to think).

That recalls another Twain quote in response to news of his death in 1897 — “the report of my death is an exaggeration”– of which exaggeration he removed all doubt by living until 1910. He could still be living today, judging by these quotes indicating it’s no exaggeration to propose that Twain had more than a passing insight into the likes of Donald Trump:

When the doctrine of allegiance to party can utterly upend a man’s moral constitution and make a fool of him besides, what excuse are you going to offer for preaching it, teaching it, extending it, perpetuating it? Shall you say, the best good of the country demands allegiance to party? Shall you also say it demands that a man kick his truth and his conscience into the gutter, and become a mouthing lunatic, besides?

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.

A half-truth is the most cowardly of lies.

All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence, and then success is sure.

A lie can travel half way around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes.

Never argue with a fool. Onlookers may not be able to tell the difference.

Politicians and diapers must be changed often, and for the same reason.

Patriotism is supporting your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it.

Sometimes I wonder whether the world is being run by smart people who are putting us on, or by imbeciles who really mean it.

I hear you loud and clear, Mark Twain. News of your death is indeed an exaggeration.

 

 

 

THE FLOCKS AND THE CROW, a play on Aesop’s fable THE FOX AND THE CROW

crow, v. To exult, esp. over another’s misfortune; to boast exultantly. –Webster’s New College Dictionary

You have no doubt heard many devotees of Donald Trump defend their support for America’s Crowmmander-In-Chief because “he says what he thinks” — as if such a character trait trumps all else as a Presidential prerequisite. Trust me: by that standard, a few of my in-laws are characters of sufficient grandiosity and shortness of breadth to be Prez. I declare, even Adolph Hitler (had he been born/raised here) might have ridden megalomania and bombastic B.S. to the White House. If drunk with power, no less a windbag than yours truly might rise to the occasion — Lord nose it’snot unthinkable.

My problem, however, is that I’m apt to think and think again before I crow what I think to my flock (otherwise, the by-line on my posts may as well be “by misterspews” instead of “by mistermuse“). Some might call this tendency over-thinking. Some might assert that was President Obama’s hangup. If so, then this guy certainly couldn’t cut it as President:

The Thinker by Rodin

Well, then, shouldn’t we be seeking the fabled middle ground between extremes: under-thinking and over-thinking? But that smacks of compromise, and we certainly can’t have that.

What to do, what to do. Surely there must be a way to get ALL of what we want, if we’re foxy enough:

Any questions?

Any doubts?

Any rags?

BELIEVE IT, BELOVED

If you’ve ever experienced watching something happen that you found hard to believe was happening — like the shock of seeing the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers burn and collapse as one plane, then another, exploded into them on 9/11 — you get the idea of what many felt watching voting results unfold on election night into the wee hours of 11/9.

True — heavily-favored Hillary was a flawed candidate whose baggage was picked apart and mega-magnified by Trumped-up claims….and we who aren’t blind Clinton partisans realized that (for all her political experience) she was not a ‘natural’ as a campaigner, nor was she judicious enough to avoid making “deplorable” mistakes that left us wondering how someone so seasoned could make them. But we thought those shortcomings and errors paled in comparison to the narcissistic, knowledge-challenged, scorched-earth shamelessness of P.T. Barnum the Second, aka Donald Trump. Wrong. Disaffected voters sought a savior, and voted their anger, emotions and perceptions…. and now we face four years of BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, beginning January 20, Inauguration Day. It should be interesting.

Meanwhile, back at the rant, I remember Republicans after the 2008 election vowing to do everything they could to make Obama a failed President. Contrast that with Obama at the White House yesterday saying he hopes Trump (who until recently claimed Obama wasn’t born in the U.S. & shouldn’t even be President) will be a success because “we’re Americans first,” not Republicans or Democrats. But enough about the election and wishful thinking. It’s over, and I’m looking at the bright side:
No more political robocalls ad infinitum.
No more political commercials on TV ad absurdum.
No more mailbox stuffed with political spin ad nauseam.
No more political campaign speeches which seem to go on ad vitam.
Need I ad etcetera?

IN NO MOOD TO KNOW NEWS

Tomorrow, Sept. 11, is NO NEWS IS GOOD NEWS DAY, which celebrates a truism that isn’t necessarily true….but, if we apply it to covering this Presidential campaign season in America, no news would be good news every day until election day: No more being subjected to The Donald’s incessant Barnum-esque babblings, or to Hillary trying to overcome being Hillary. No more spin from their political shills on cable TV. No more polls. No more any of it. Let’s just vote and get it over with. I’m ready. I’ve been ready.

Now that that’s settled, I am going to start the celebration a day early by not mentioning either candidate for the remainder of this post. Furthermore, I’m not going to subject you to my babblings for the rest of this post; instead, while I’m off celebrating, I’ll let what others have said on the subject of news take it from here. Is that good news, or what?

But first, the news: The House of Commons was sealed off today [while in session] after police chased an escaped lunatic through the front door. A spokesman at Scotland Yard said it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. –Ronnie Barker

It’s not a 24 hour news cycle, it’s a 60 second news cycle now, it’s instantaneous. It has never been easier to get away with telling lies. It has never been easier to get away with the glib one-liner. –Malcolm Turnbull

We all want to get the news objectively, impartially, and from our own point of view. –Bill Vaughan

Public opinion is the God of democracy, and the journalist is his prophet. –Evan Esar

We are in the same tent as the clowns and the freaks — that’s show business. –Edward R. Murrow (broadcast journalist)

It’s amazing that the amount of news that happens in the world every day always just exactly fits the newspaper. –Jerry Seinfeld

The American news media has lowered the bar for all of humanity. British news media is definitely trying to stoop down to that level. Everyone is stooping to the lowest common denominator. –John Oliver

I don’t care what is written about me so long as it isn’t true. –Katherine Hepburn

Some people commit a crime for no other reason than to see their name in print. –Gustave Flaubert

Live long enough and nothing is news. ‘The News’ is ‘the new thing.’  That’s fine, until a hundred years go by and you realize there are no new things, only deep structures and cycles that repeat themselves through different period details. –Glen Duncan

 

 

 

DON’T LOSE YOUR HEAD

What would you do without your head? Well, you might become a candidate for President of the United Horsemen of Sleepy Hollow….or President of the United States of America. Just the thought of the latter naturally points to the strange case of one Donald Trump, a septuagenarian who appears to have a head — but every word emanating from said head makes it apparent that it isn’t a real head, but a cartoon head, with real drawing power.

Now, it’s possible that Sir Donald, of House of Orange fame, was born with an ordinary human head (hard to picture, but possible). If so, it seems obvious that at some point he irretrievably lost it (perhaps in a naval exercise, or maybe it was told “You’re fired!” when he was an ANT (Apprentice Narcissistic Tycoon). Of course, it would never do for someone of his stature to appear headless (not great for the image), so no doubt he struck a great deal with a great cartoonist to draw a big replacement head on his shoulders that would not only be the envy of every bird seeking a nesting site, but would look great and inspire many tweets in the bargain.

Needless to say, the cartoonist succeeded in creating an artistic wonder, notwithstanding the fact that every time the head said something, it made its bear-er look like an ass. Of course, that’s not the cartoonist’s fault, but Sir Donald blamed him anyway, because that’s what winners do to losers (of everything but heads). Naturally, Sir Donald’s followers drank it up, because everything he says goes down like Dr. Trump’s Original Snake Oil, ‘still-made’ right here in the good old U.S. of A. by Mexican aliens, and guaranteed great for the constitution, for soothing fear, and curing everything that aliens you.

And so, my fellow Americans, the choice is queer (heterosexually speaking). The time is now. Or is it the choice is now and the times are queer? Anyway, if your mind (assuming you haven’t lost your head reading this post) was undecided as to who or whom to vote for at the start of this treatise, I trust that is no longer a problem.

This has been a public service announcement brought to you as a public service. I thank you.

P.S. Thanks also to Wayne Hogan for providing the cartoon which provided the idea for this post. If his name sounds vaguely familiar, another great Wayne’s world classic appears on the cover of my book SEX SCELLS, which I seem to recall a few of you buying under duress way back when (and of which I just happen to have some leftover copies, in case anyone’s interested).

YOU ARE WHO YOU ELECT

You are what you eat. –Dr. Victor Lindlahr, nutritionist (1897-1969)

Pun aside, a lot of whater has passed under the bridge since Dr. Lindlahr coined the above phrase 75+ years ago, and the older I get, the more I’ve taken his caution to heart….with resulting good health to show for it (if I should drop dead tomorrow, I shall reluctantly admit I came to that conclusion a bit prematurely).

But I have also come to see a parallel to this axiom in the public sector: it’s no accident that we have political dysfunction. We are who we elect. Our elected (and wanna-be elected) officials aren’t anomalies who have somehow passed under voters’ attention spans, leaving us to wonder how such coarse incivility found its way into the political mainstream. Well, wonder no more:

http://www.gocomics.com/wumo/2016/03/28

Obviously, then, eatin’ and politickin’ have a lot in common. As with our intellectual standards, if our table manners go down the drain, we regress into uncivilized louts. To combat this uncouth scourge, we must remember our etiquette. Politicians need to model their behavior after the culinary refinement of the epicure:

Therefore, let us get back to the good old days when politicians may have been idiots, but at least they weren’t tasteless idiots with little sense of propriety. Take these examples:

It’s time to put our blood or our urine where our mouth is. — Rep. Pat Murphy (D-IA) on drug testing, Feb. 1997

We have brave men and women who are willing to step forward because they know what’s at stake. They’re willing to sacrifice their lives for this great country. What I’m asking all of you tonight is not to put on a uniform. Put on a [Rick Santorum] bumper sticker. Is it that much to ask? Is it that much to ask to step up and serve your country? –Senator Rick Santorum (R-PA), Jan. 2006

My problem was, I was too honest with you the first time. –Rep. Tillie Fowler (R-FL), explaining to her constituents why she changed positions.

The feminist agenda is not about equal rights for women. It is about a socialist, antifamily political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, , kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism, and become lesbians. –Pat Robertson, 1992 fund raising letter

They intend to vote on the Sabbath, during Lent, to take away the liberty that we have right from God. This is an affront to God. –Rep. Steve King (R-IA)

Please burn before reading. –1972 Nixon White House illegal campaign tactics memo

My friends, no matter how rough the road may be, we can and we will never, never surrender to what is right. –Dan Quayle, Vice President under George H.W. Bush

I don’t think we came from monkeys. I think that’s ridiculous. I haven’t seen a half-monkey, half-person yet. –Glenn Beck (who apparently hadn’t looked in the mirror lately)

OK, Pat Robertson and Glenn Beck aren’t politicians. Hey, nobody’s perfect. Well, maybe Sarah Palin is, but we don’t have time to do her justice, so I’ll close with this reminder: