… you know there’s hope for that religion.

A big win for our side.

George Washington University’s law school should have bragging rights on this one. One of its graduates has been chosen to handle a lawsuit against the highest-profile person in the world. It’s already a very high-profile suit, and will almost certainly become even more high-profile.

So: GWU press release on its way!

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

But there’s the question of how to word it.

PORN STAR STORMY DANIELS CHOOSES
GW LAW GRAD TO KILL HUSH MONEY
AGREEMENT WITH SEX PARTNER TRUMP

That’s a bit… sensationalistic. Let’s see…

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

First, go with her birth name. Use formal titles. Tone down other elements.

MS. STEPHANIE R. CLIFFORD CHOOSES
GW LAW GRAD IN HIGH-PROFILE CASE
AGAINST PRESIDENT DONALD J. TRUMP.

Ah. That’s better. Scathing Online Schoolmarm gave her a middle initial because it sounds more respectable, and because it creates an equivalence between her and Donald J.

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

The GW law grad is a master of the mixed metaphor. SOS has rarely seen such a strong one.

“[A] Supreme Court Justice once said that ‘sunlight is the best disinfectant.’ And we fully intend on bringing as much sunlight to this matter as possible. Let the chips fall where they may.”

Bravo.

Ladies, read up and understand the pattern. They’re your literary and/or spiritual heroes, and you go to them for guidance and a blurb for your book of poems and they jump you.

After they succeed or fail at having their way, they threaten your career if you tell anyone.

The post just below is one of several on this blog chronicling the adorable father/son pairs in this country who roll around together at home on top of thick warm layers of illegal loaded guns and explosive devices (see photo). It’s an all-American thing, and chances are you just don’t get it but lookee here – a three-generation human interest story to warm the Glockles of your heart!

Here’s Grandad – the only family member not currently in jail or out on bond awaiting trial – talking to the media about the wonderful world of family weaponry, the way his close-knit clan has used a home environment strewn with hyper-powerful, ready-to-shoot firearms to treat their son’s autism, and the way satanic anti-second amendment forces have invaded the sanctity of their treatment facility/armory.

“It’s not entirely clear how the grandfather of a boy arrested for making threats at the Academy for Sciences and Agriculture in Vadnais Heights is helping the family cause with an interview he’s given,” sneers elitist Minnesota Public Radio about grandaddy’s dark warning that if the gummit don’t leave his people the hell alone, “Fire is coming down from hell.”

From hell, gramps?… What exactly do you mean? Fire from… haha… one of your big ol’ semi-automatics…? … Zat what you’re getting at?

Gramps is pissed: “This has violated our second amendment” right to raise an autistic kid to threaten to shoot up his school with every single one of the loaded guns on his bed.

You got that right. After their thirteen year old son repeatedly threatened to shoot up his school, his mother insisted there were “no weapons in the home.” A search revealed that she and the kid’s father

owned several illegal firearms and kept loaded guns out in the open…

[The father was charged] with two felony counts of prohibited possession of machine guns and short-barreled shotguns and one count of gross misdemeanor negligent storage of firearms where a child can access them.

Authorities on Friday seized a cache of firearms, ammunition and at least two explosive devices… Some of the firearms were unsecured, and a ballistic vest was also recovered…

“Law enforcement officers also recovered several trigger kits hidden in the ceiling of the residence,” said the charges … “They appeared to be conversion kits for converting weapons to automatic weapons. Deputies also discovered literature on how to convert a semi-automatic weapon to a fully automatic weapon.”

America’s family.

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

[O]nly about one-quarter of [US] gun owners think it essential to alert visitors with children that guns may be present in the home. (Twice as many non-gun-owners think so.) Only 66 percent of gun owners think it essential to keep guns locked up when not in use. (Ninety percent of non-gun-owners think so.) Only 45 percent of them actually do it.

The third day of massive multiple trucks
breaking and shredding and hauling
“a large healthy pine that snapped in
the wind,” says my neighbor.
“It didn’t uproot.”

He’s my unabomber daddy
He means all the world to me
He’s my unabomber daddy
And they made a jail cell jest for him and me

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

It’s the Patek Philippe watch story a few classes down:

‘You never actually own five hundred guns and explosive devices. You merely look after them for the next generation.’

It’s an Only-in-America kinda thing: Matching father-and-son jail cells.

You know what’s also Only-in-America? They’ll be out of jail in seconds — more paranoid than ever, and accumulating more weaponry.

And – hyuk! – ain’t never a threat to safety. Relax. It’s jest a gun!

… to keep up to date on the zillions of junior high and high schools in this country where the kids who bring loaded guns are suddenly, post-Parkland, attracting attention.

Think about it. These are only the pre-teen and teenage heat-packers people are bothering to rat on. The ones who let their secret slip.

Tip of the gunberg.

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

Oh, and a word to Mom and Dad: Do make sure your guns are secure.

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

All that’s left is for the university president to issue the Orwellian War is Peace statement:

We are a safe community, we are a safe campus.

… dumb.

… La Kid, Merrion Square, Dublin.

… the tree guys deal with the fir that fell
on my across the street neighbor’s house.

… UD shares the best wind poem she knows. It’s by Ted Hughes.

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

Wind

This house has been far out at sea all night,
The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills,
Winds stampeding the fields under the window
Floundering black astride and blinding wet

Till day rose; then under an orange sky
The hills had new places, and wind wielded
Blade-light, luminous black and emerald,
Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.

At noon I scaled along the house-side as far as
The coal-house door. Once I looked up –
Through the brunt wind that dented the balls of my eyes
The tent of the hills drummed and strained its guyrope,

The fields quivering, the skyline a grimace,
At any second to bang and vanish with a flap;
The wind flung a magpie away and a black-
Back gull bent like an iron bar slowly. The house

Rang like some fine green goblet in the note
That any second would shatter it. Now deep
In chairs, in front of the great fire, we grip
Our hearts and cannot entertain book, thought,

Or each other. We watch the fire blazing,
And feel the roots of the house move, but sit on,
Seeing the window tremble to come in,
Hearing the stones cry out under the horizons.

If O. had been seven years old.

She was 7 when her aunt told her they were going on an errand. She was taken to a dingy apartment. “The next thing I knew, my panties were being taken off and I was sort of just splayed on the ground,” she says.

“Then something really sharp happened,” she adds.

Her aunt ordered her to kiss the hand of the woman who cut her…

Does it get any kinkier?

Can you think of any better way to comprehensively destroy a woman?

At least those of us with pensions.