No Title
“Trump plans to hold unprecedented military ‘farewell event’ on Inauguration Day with a 21-gun salute, color guard and martial music when he boards Air Force One for final flight to Mar-a-Lago”

Dress rehearsal.



My Toast to Biden, via My Sister’s YouTube Channel.
Nice Save.

Our beloved democracy, that is. Good going. NBC calls it.

Goodbye, cruel world.

… And as for all those horrid political contingencies ahead of us…

Let’s face the music and dance.


Georgia, Georgia, the whole night through
Just an old sweet hope kept Georgia on my mind

Georgia, Georgia, love you so
We’re movin’ up to 2-7-0


Certain voters frighten me
Certain eyes look violently
And in dreadful dreams I see
The road lead back to Trump

Georgia, Georgia, some peace I find
Just a late-night count keeps Georgia on my mind

Pull Away, Joe!

Sing it.

Hey, pull away, the ship of state is holding.

Hey, pull away, you’ve pulled away, Joe!
Hey, pull away, the vote is now unfolding,
Hey, pull away, you’ve pulled away, Joe!

King Donald was a bully boy
Before the revolution
(Hey, pull away; you’ve pulled away, Joe!)
He tried to crown himself today
And kill the Constitution

Hey, pull away, you’ve pulled away, Joe

Hey, pull away, we’re bound for better weather
Hey, pull away, you’ve pulled away, Joe

Mail-in Ballots:
Newspaper Poem

A poem taken from a newspaper or magazine article, using words and sentences from the article.


The moon is rusting and we don't know why.

Hematite shows, where latitudes are high.

But how can that be, since the moon is dry?

There are a couple theories as to why.

Solar wind calms in our magnetic sky.
Meteors make the surface liquefy.
From “New Year Poem,” by Philip Larkin

For sometimes it is shown to me in dreams
The Eden that all wish to recreate
Out of their living, from their favourite times;
The miraculous play where all the dead take part,
Once more articulate; or the distant ones
They will never forget because of an autumn talk
By a railway, an occasional glimpse in a public park,
Any memory for the most part depending on chance.

How much more of a freak show can America’s game become?

Put aside the question whether the academic joke, financial catastrophe (UD thanks John for the link), and criminal bacchanalia university football represents makes it a terrific fit with American higher education. Put aside the fact that multiple high schools are unable to field a team because so few guys (thanks for the link, Charlie) are stupid enough to take part. Put aside the ritual militarization of high school games, with fights and gunshots becoming a structural part of the fun. (As Ravi, one of my readers, puts it, we’re heading toward “open carry on the gridiron.”)

Look merely at one professional team, the Raiders, which recently boasted the Three Violent and Insane Stooges (all were rapidly suspended or dumped or whatever).

UD doesn’t get it. If you really want to watch an insane obese male lumber about destroying everything in his path, you’ve already got the President.

It’s summer. So mass murder moves…

… to the beach.

“We are intrinsically more violent than the average mammal.”

Uh, yeah.  We like being violent, and we love watching and imagining violence.  Tens of millions of Americans elected a president who physically stalked his opponent during their debate, and whose face goes red as a baboon butt when he shrieks Lock her up to shrieking crowds.  Violent Video Games R Us.  Violent Rap Lyrics R Us.  If a NASCAR monster doesn’t go flying off into the stands lacerating a family we feel cheated.  

We’re pretty fucking protective of the football players designated to be competitively violent for us on a regular basis.  They are our heroes.  We overfeed them and give them special drugs to make them scary to look at and capable of immense leverage against weaker people; we dress them up like monsters and moan with bliss as they fracture and concuss.   Every single day of their lives we cover them with be violent kisses and shower them with be violent fame and fortune, and when they’re violent off the field (why wouldn’t they be violent off the field?) we cover it up.  The police, the university administration, the media, the sports leagues, the rest of us: We cover it up, and at the end of each year we give the most violent of them trophies.  “The NFL looks for players who are aggressive — and, by definition, that means they have to be OK with harming themselves and others.” 

You can write all the high-minded articles you like about how we all agree that violence against women by the most violent heroes among us is shocking and wrong; you can talk about penalties and solutions.  

It often seems that only video evidence forces the NFL and its teams to take a victim of domestic violence seriously. Even when action is taken, the league hopes the public’s memory will fade. “[The NFL] wait it out, because fans have a very short attention span,” says [one observer]. “There is no financial reason for them to not continue the status quo.”

Instead, if change is to come, fans are going to have to take action. “So painful as it’s going to be, we’re going to have to boycott teams who fail to meet basic standards of human decency,” [says another]. “So as a society we have to certainly send the message that hiring and retaining players who are perpetrators of violence will result in harm to their bottom line.”

Uh, who’s “we”?  Have you noticed many women, who might be expected to care most about the pummeling of their sex, in football and hockey stands?  In sports organizations?  For successful college and professional teams, failing to meet the basic standards of human decency is job one; failing to hire and retain perpetrators of violence is the quickest way to get yourself fired as recruitment coach.  

We don’t even care that our biggest heroes go nuts (who wouldn’t?), ending up in jail or gaga or dead or killed after years of getting bashed to bits as fucking freak shows for the rest of us.  Really, mes petites: I wouldn’t hold your breath on the whole violence-against-women bit.

Okay, so its one star player was just arrested for domestic abuse…

… but at least Kansas has a shitty football team whose games no one attends.  And that’s bankrupting the school.

Hughie Does Liberty

My savior, ’tis of thee,

Sweet school of Liberty,

Of thee I sing;

Land of hypocrisy!

Land for a perv like me!

Where I’ll pretend I’m Jesus-y.

Let freedom ring!

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