Showing posts with label Bernie Sanders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bernie Sanders. Show all posts

Sunday, November 06, 2016

POTUS Envy

As Charles Dickens once wrote, "It was the worst of times, it was the worstiest of times."

My ballot sits before me. It's time to pull the band-aid off this year-old scab and hope it won't bleed too much. Oh, but rest assured, little ones. There will be blood.

You think this is all going to be over November 8? Not hardly. Once the results are in, the party continues with a useless recount (or two), accusations of voter fraud from the left, right and center, not to mention what follows. Calls for impeachment will begin almost immediately, hearings will commence along with court proceedings and this obscene circus will never leave town.Soon we will long for those halcyon days of Election 2000. "Remember the hanging chads? Those were such a hoot!"

Now we're all innocently shaking our heads and wondering, "How did we get in to this mess in the first place?". If you don't know the answer to that question or even dared to ask it in the first place, please jump off the nearest high rise into rush hour traffic. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's all been fun and games until someone called Last Call. That's when the lights are turned up and reality finally sets in. "Oh no....I'm going home with THAT?????"

There are two candidates of any consequence in this battle. At least, that's what's been shoved down our gullets. If there's a phrase that pays in this cycle it's "The system is rigged", someone trumpeted from both side of the aisle. That's what y'all call irony with a capital IRE. The system is indeed rigged in favor of this archaically damaging two party system. Want proof? Take a gander at the two at the top. The others don't stand a chance and never will because the powers that be will never allow it to occur. Therefore, this country is beholden to either one or the other but not another until the end of time or days, if you prefer.

You could very well indeed vote for one of the other candidates. However you will be vilified not only by your peers but by those who actually stood apart not months before. The beloved little cherub Bernie Sanders himself is scolding those who would dare make a protest vote. Hey, pal. They're all protest votes. You were a protest vote. Why are you spitting in the face of all your supporters who say you as a viable alternative against the Hillary machine? Why are you toeing the party line so vehemently? Are you Berned-out? Unless...

CONSPIRACY THEORY #1
Bernie Sanders has been working for Hillary and/or the Democrats all along. He was never meant to win, only to gather support. Dear sweet Lady Macbeth has never skewed to a younger, hipper demographic, but that snow-haired firebrand Uncle Bernie got them all fired up like the rabble rousing Lefty he is what with his free college tuition promises, taking down the 1% and things that young people actually care about. Then when it came down to the wire, he rolled over way too easily, even after learning  he had been screwed over by Team Clinton. Instead of standing his ground at the convention when could have actually made a difference,  he told his constituents to vote for the candidate they hate as much as any Republican: HRC. The percentage of those who will indeed do as he asks may be enough to put her over. Good job, Bern. What were you promised-a cabinet post? Some much needed cash for your retirement? A Rascal to get around Washington? Let's face facts, old son. You won't be back in 2020. Too bad. You might have taken home the bacon this time around. As it is, you can take that participation trophy the DNC handed you to display prominently on your mantel for all to see as you sit in your Barcalounger watching election results on MSNBC.

On the Republican side, the tents went up on Cirque de So-lame as the clown car pulled up during debate season inexplicably beginning in late 2015. to every debate. The masses were oh so amused by the hi jinx that ensued when those doors opened and these buffoons all toppled out in fill regalia. "Damn it, Chris Christie! Why do you always have to get in the car last? Rubio's getting crushed!" "Because I have to drive. I know a shortcut so we don't have to take the bridge." This the party that controls Congress and has held the country hostage all this time? Holy merde. Say hello to their best and brightest, a bigger pack of empty suits and nimrods the country has never seen. But hey, the American people ate it all up with a plastic spoon if the Nielsen ratings were any indication (and they are) of what kind of a pit we have fallen into voluntarily. And the media has only perpetuated this shameful spectacle and milked it for all that was worth. They run everything into the ground to get every last nickel they can no matter what damage has been done.

So who's in the running for the highest position of what is laughingly referred to as the Free World?  Why, it's Hillary and The Donald for the POTUS championship belt, probably the worst main event in modern history.

Hill was crowned the Democratic nominee a long time ago in a backroom far, far away, probably back in 2008. The scenario could have been that she had been asked to graciously step aside because it was time for an African-American president, not a woman. "Don't worry, Mrs. Clinton. You're next. We'll see to that." "Don't call me Mrs. Clinton." So Barry O'Bam gets the nod and Hill gets to be Secretary of State. Whoopsy! Now she's an even tougher sell to the American voting public because, let's face it, Hilly is almost as reviled as the Trumpster. Her support stems from dyed in the wool Democratic sheep who would vote for a pile of dirty clothes if it had the right party affiliation, anyone and everyone wanting herstory to be made by electing the FIRST WOMAN PRESIDENT (not Susan Sarandon who announced she doesn't vote with her vagina, giving new meaning to the term "ballot box") and every Trump hater who see her as more Presidential than the former star of THE APPRENTICE. But though Hillary may have the backing of Hollywood (the entertainment rag Variety has even announced their support, a first for the paper) with Beyonce, Jay-Z and Katy Perry singing their praises, she ain't beloved and never will be. Do you know why her slogan is "I'M WITH HER"? Because it's difficult to say her name in the same context. Try it. It'll get stuck in your throat. "I'm with HHHHHHHH....... I'm with HHHHiiiiiiiiiiiii...I'm with HHHHuuuuuuhhhhhh..... her."

As for for Benito Trumpilini. is there really anything more that needs to be said that wasn't self-evident the moment he threw his hate into the ring? For the love of God, people. This is the same fool who stood front and center with the Birther bullshit. I don't care if it originated with the Clinton camp. He became the goddamn spokesmodel for the product. Didn't watching his moronic reality send off any warning flares? Those Republican debates gave him the opportunity to be the Roastmaster General and he ran with it. After watching him skew everyone of his opponents, he was deemed the Washington outsider who shoots straight form the hip, no matter what the hell fall from his lips. After years and years of a non-productive government, he looked like the solution that the country really needs-to be shaken to its core so that we can start anew. Trump the Grump began spewing his ideas every chance the media gave him and that was constantly. The more outrageous the claims or accusations he made, the more the coverage he got. The fabled October Surprise of this election cycle was the Access Hollywood tape where he made despicable comments about women. Is this really a surprise in October or any other month? He's a pig. Shocking. Next. But that does bring up...

CONSPIRACY THEORY #2
Billy Bush leaked the tape himself, paid off handsomely by the Bush family, getting even with no only how Trump bullied Jeb but his humiliation of the entire family throughout the campaign. Don't fuck with the Bushes. They're ex-CIA. Barbara probably still wants to give him a hearty kick in the huevos for good measure..

The fallout left some chinks in Teflon Don's armor, but he was already insulated and reinforced by the plethora of hateful rhetoric regarding illegal immigrants, that insufferable wall and the rest of his playlist filtering into the cracks and crevices where lived the dregs of society aka the Basket of  Deplorables (sounds like something I want to order for the holidays from Harry and David). These sewer rats clawed their way back into the sunlight again as the nation finally began to head in the right direction and their kind had been forced to not go away mad, just go away. Well, they're back and it going to be tougher to get rid of them because now they've re-organized. What's going to happen when he loses? Something tells they're going to be poor sports. Can you say Civil War II, the sequel nobody wants?  Trump has been telling it like is, all righty. He's also been making it up as he goes along, a bull in a china shop that won't stop, win or lose, until the entire Great American Mall is reduced to a pile of rubble.


To use the 21st century version of a time-honored tradition of relating everything to 9/11, Hilly represents everything bad about America before 9/11 while Don-Don everything after. We're screwed either way. It's only a matter of time. With Clinton at the helm, it'll be a slow side into oblivion, stretching it out as long as possible, though as the campaign has progressed, the timeline might accelerate. President Trump will plunge us into disaster instantaneously.

So what to do? Does one pick one or the other? Would picking anyone else be a statement? What about leaving it blank? Do you dare throw your vote away? As for myself, I have picked the proverbial "lesser of two evils" in almost every election since I've begun voting. Now as I round the back turn and head into the home stretch,  I find myself in a moral quandary, telling myself that every vote matters as it has been drummed into our heads since turning the legal age to cast a ballot, regardless of the Electoral College system that only the winners want to maintain, but I refuse to flip the coin, roll the dice or eeny-meeny-miney-mo it. The thing is, I'm an Independent. These are not my candidates. By Oregon law, I was not allowed to make a choice during the primaries (a state proposition that would have done so was shot in flames last time around. Thanks for working against us, two party system!) There's Clinton, Johnson, Stein and the choice of a new generation, None of the Above.

It's two days before the election. I had yet to fill out my ballot. Which ever way I decide, I'm going to vote with my conscience. If you do the same, I applaud you. A conscience is a precious commodity these days. Hang onto it as though your life depends on it.

It does.




Sunday, September 06, 2015

Labor Pains

As Labor Day signals the end of another summer, it's time to sit back and reflect on the season gone by.

Well, that was quick.

The record heat this year is responsible for losing me as a fan of summertime. I don't do extremes very well any longer. Maybe I should move into a nice temperature-controlled mall. On the other hand, life was certainly a lot easier with the miracle of air-conditioning. (You can blame me personally for destroying the planet, greenies) We've lived in a rented townhouse for the past nine years, originally through a property management group. When we moved in, we were informed there was no central air. Fine and dandy, we thought. We had already lived in an apartment w/o said amenity, making do with ceiling fans. This place had no such appliance in any room. My son Matt graciously donated his two box fans that we placed strategically in the house. We made due with what we had. Besides, this is Oregon. It never gets above 90 for very long. Who needs anything else? It's like umbrellas here. They're for rain-sensitive pussies. Cut to: Last Year at this time. The townhouse owners decided to wisely show the property management group to the curb due to their gross incompetence (Their name is The Alpine Group, by the way. If you're in the market for a new abode, steer clear of these maroons.) The owners took over the lease and after our initial meeting, they inquired as to how the place was holding up. For example:

"How's the air conditioning working?" they asked.

"We don't have air conditioning," we scoffed.

"You'd better have air conditioning. We paid for it."

The owner walked over to the thermostat and flipped the switch. For the first time in eight years in this home, we had air conditioning.

Thank goodness for that. Egg on the face is so much worse in the heat.

I didn't attend one movie this summer, the first time in forever. There was nothing I felt compelled to run out to the cinema that I couldn't wait for at home. Isn't that a sad state of affairs? Even worse was another fatal shooting in Louisiana, echoing the psychotic Colorado rampage that finally made its way through the courts. On top of that, when I do finally visit a local cinema, it will a solo affair as per my usual. I allowed a nitwitted Facebook posting to take me aback, proclaiming that "There a guy sitting behind us in the theater...AND HE'S ALL BY HIMSELF! OMG! I CAN'T RELAX AND ENJOY THE MOVIE! WHAT IF HE...???". 

I don't know. Told you to put your fucking phone away during the movie, you dumb-ass doorknob. But that's not what kept me out of the theaters this summer. Product and product alone. Sequels, remakes and bland blah blah blah.

Naturally, that other thing didn't help matters any. Paranoia, justified or not, can't help but creep into what used to be considered our general well-being. Profiling can't be avoided when the guilty parties fir the same demographic.But those that don't are seen as predatory time-bombs, ready to snatch your kids and/or waste everyone with the same vigor as aggressively taking out the garbage.

So no film outings for me this summer, but I wasn't a complete shut-in.

Fortunately I managed to see Grant-Lee Phillips this last May in concert at the Alberta Rose Theater in Portland, performing with Steve Holtz, a fine singer/songwriter in his right. After yet another amazing set by this artist I'm proud to call my friend, I had an all-too brief but still gratifying reunion with Grant. He gave me a copy of his 2012 album WALKING IN THE GREEN CORN, another sensational solo work that I highly recommend, containing one of his most beautiful compositions, "Bound to this World". Yeah, I'm three years late to this party. What else is new? Besides, is there an expiration date on art?


In the meantime, the world continues to back up my proclamation that 2015 is the Year of the Sap. Need I really mention Trump? I think not. How about the other occupants of the clown car known as the Republican presidential contenders? Hillary ain't looking so good, but I don't think she ever did. Christ, will she win by default? Bernie Sanders is this election's Dennis Kucinich and Dopey Joe...oh, say it isn't so. It looks like I am probably sitting this election out and will be proud to admit it. Add this to the ongoing shit storm of cop killings, black people killings, religious crackheads, sandwich pedophiles, moralistic hackers, transcendental transgenders...it all makes me want to yell "Uncle!" 

But I won't, Not just yet. There's a balance in my world at least.

I haven't mentioned the stage productions of my melodramas because I have done so ad nauseam. I'll only say that it was indeed a swell season professionally and it's even sweller to able to say those words. (See previous post- A MELO SUMMER)

The BIG event of the summer was the visitation of family members far and wide when I got immersed in major grandpa love from my three grandchillun. That's the icing on the cake known as Summer 2015 and my life in general. It's a well-worn cliche to say that one most focus on us on what is best in life. No, Conan, it's not to crush your enemies, see them drive before you and to hear the lamentations of their women. Those are pretty sweet, but at this point in my time here on Earth, I take solace in this:. I have a great family and feel blessed to be a part of it. They manage to center this oft-kilter life of mine and the time in which I exist. Things could always be better until I am in their embrace. Then I realize that this is the best of all possible worlds. Everything else can take a powder.

So long, Summer
Bring on the Fall.