They Might Be Giants

Congratulations to the House Democrats for finally finding sufficient motivation to, you know, do something about the open, rampant lawlessness emanating from every sweaty pore of the executive branch, and uphold that pesky Constitution. Make no mistake -- these people have been stress-testing institutional resistance the entire time. They know they already have the judicial branch in their pocket, since they (literally) paid down the six-figure debts of Justice Rapebro McGambledrunk and thus purchased his services for the next several decades. Now they are seeing how far they can push the legislative branch before there's pushback.

And here we are. No matter how it got to this, nor how long it took or whatever, the fact is we are here, so let's do this right. Be like Bruce Lee:  swift and lethal, but also studied and methodical, knowing just where and how to hit to inflict real damage. Obviously, information is surfacing practically by the hour, so this is easier said than done, but one hopes (assumes) that the timing of the Democrats' decision is not random nor strictly reactive, that they have prepared and strategized for this eventuality, and that there's a rollout planned in advance.

Of course, Trump and his gang of bumbling idiots seam determined to help out as much as possible already, just in the past twenty-four hours or so:

• Trump apparently called Pelosi yesterday morning to see if there was something they could "work out" on this whistleblower thing. To anyone other than a full-on Kool-Aid-slurping cultist, this is prima facie evidence of intent to commit conspiracy, as well as an admission of guilt in the crime in the first place.
• Giuliani has been flooding the zone and fucking the dog, losing his shit on a number of panel shows and apparently even holding up his own phone at one point as the repository of the evidence. We'll see if he receives his subpoena before his own people throw him under the proverbial bus. Chances are both have already happened by the time you read this.
• Which will beg another question for the investigating committee(s):  why the hell is Rudy Giuliani, who has no government position, being used as an intermediary in sensitive foreign diplomacy? Even if everything was kosher -- and it isn't, not by a longshot -- he's Trump's gofer. There's a reason these tasks are undertaken by employees of the government, who have accountability to the nation, and not to this scheming, chiseling douchebag. Birds of a feather -- Rudy was over there pro bonehead, to head-hunt another captive customer for his "consulting" racket.
  
  Think in Goodfellas terms:  Rudy is there in the Tommy role, to shakedown the restaurant on Paulie's behalf. Not as a bust-out, but as an ongoing protection racket. It's really that simple, and none of the players needs to explicitly say anything. Just friends needing favors from friends, and maybe we help you guys out, and then maybe my pal Rudy here can host a nice security conference in Kyiv or Odessa next year for a small honorarium.
• Giuliani is saying he was in Ukraine on request from the State Department. Which means Mike Pompeo is probably balls-deep in this mess too. And don't count out Pencey the Toady!
• The "transcript" is obviously no such thing, unless Trump and Zelenskyy both spoke at one-fifth normal speed. The call was a half-hour long, and there's maybe six to ten minutes' worth of dialogue to be had in what is assuredly a scrubbed text. Apparently the White House even altered a transcript of the press feed yesterday (which is official documentation, and not to be altered for obvious reasons) when Fatboy got pissy with a reporter. So yeah, tapes or it's not a transcript. Not that we don't trust you, but....you understand.
• I had been thinking that there's no way to Trump without going through Bill Barr, and that would certainly be simpler, but it's a dead cinch that Trump's tax records and Deutsche Bank loan docs will show a clear pattern of fraud. He inflated his net worth to secure the loan, and then turned around and understated his income to the IRS. Go ahead and try either of those things yourself, and see how that works out for you.
• However, Barr deserves to be impeached, and at this point, he has made it as much of a legal and moral necessity to do so as Trump has. Already we are seeing clips of Kamala Harris grilling him back in May, in the wake of the Mueller Report, specifically asking Barr if he had investigated anyone at the behest of the White House or any of its staff. And Trump himself brought up Barr in his conversation with Zelenskyy. It's great that the boss' sheer ineptitude makes this easier, but hopefully no one takes anything for granted. Make the case as strong as possible. Impeaching Barr will only reinforce the case overall, and may even get Dollar Bill to flip on his chief.

Again, the terrain is shifting by the hour, so it's impossible to synthesize all the info quickly and produce any sort of analysis that will mostly hold up a week or even a day from now. But things are moving fast, and so the Democrats must be prepared to roll with that dynamic.

The biggest factor is the GOP elephant in the room -- if enough evidence starts pouring out in a torrent, and the "leaders" of that traitorous cabal start looking at their internal polling, the flood of retirements, the incoming calls (apparently thoughtful Ben Sasse made sure to direct all questions to a hapless staffer named James), and then factor in that another wave of retaliatory tariffs from Genius Q. Dealmaker's spiffy little trade war are set to kick in right before Christmas, you might start seeing a few high-profile defections.

It will be tempting at that point for the Democrats to make some sort of deal. And unless that deal involves Commander Babyfingers leaving office and standing trial, it's a no-go. The Republicon Party has spent the last couple decades proving that it must be ended, pulverized, disintegrated, the ashes spread to the four winds and the embers urinated and shat upon.

This precedes Trump by a long time, goes back at least to Newt Gingrich, and really back to Paul Weyrich and R.J. Rushdoony and that ilk, evilangelical grifters who clung to Reagan's droopy old-man ball-sack, burrowed in like ticks, and set up shop. They have poisoned this nation for nearly half a century now, taken the party down that road with them, and both must be removed from having any significant effect on the political system of this country.

The great thing is that it will be simple -- make them pay their fucking taxes. But it has to be done, without mercy, from Trump all the way down to Steve Fucking Doocy. Either put them in jail or put them out of work. There is no compromise. They had a million chances and chose to enable a moral monster and an habitual criminal. McConnell is still sitting on dozens of pieces of legislation that the House has worked to pass this year, just so he can look in the camera and say they've done nothing.

So #MoscowMitch, Putin's bitch, needs to either be in jail or out of a job. Same for Graham, and Collins, and all the other dirtbags up for re-election, no quarter. Let the rest of them know they're marked. Flood the panel shows with consistent, simple talking points, and repeat them over and over again until the dopiest rube in the street can sing it back at a street rally.

This is marketing as much as it is political or legal, and when you think about it, that actually simplifies the process of getting the electorate on your side. Look at how efficiently Corporate 'murka is at getting people to stuff their faces with Cheetos or Golden Corral buffets or poisonous pharma meds, thirty seconds at a time.

It will be a bumpy road, and an ugly finish no matter what. But this is the first day in a very long time where I felt relief that the country might get its shit together and start finding a better direction. We just have to make sure to look further back than just "before Trump," because he is a product of the disease that captured that party a very long time ago. Excising the tumor is not enough; the patient needs chemo.

[Update 1:10 PDT: It gets so much better already. Apparently some genius in the White House emailed their impeachment talking points to the House Democrats, then frantically tried to recall the email. It's hilarious, until you realize these morons are running the fucking country.]

Propaganda Farmers

So apparently this piece of shit is making the rounds, and while it's two minutes you'll never get back, it's also instructive in how these useless cocksuckers really think, and one of the strategies they will surely use next year against whoever is going up against Grampa Walnuts.

Let's deconstruct this a little bit, shall we? First, it bears noting that Reason is part of a lib-con agitprop network funded in part by the Koch Family Foundation. There's a lot of irony baked in there, if you think about it:  I'm listening to Zappa's We're Only In It for the Money as I type this, so you can guess my general thoughts on hippie generosity in general, and The Beatles' corporatized "all you need is love" ethos. However, it's a dead certainty that all four band members would be fully behind a student-loan debt jubilee.

So, irony to the nth degree:  a stupid video produced by an agitprop "think tank" funded by a company founded by a scumbag who literally punched oil wells for Stalin and built a refinery for Hitler, pirating a song (no doubt without paying royalties or asking permission) that was written by people who would most likely be in profound disagreement with the sentiments expressed in the rewrite. I mean, the fucking balls on these people. Every goddamned time. They're impossible to parody.

But the meat of the "argument" is where the action is at, and where the Democratic candidate simply needs to craft a simple, direct message rebutting this wretched nonsense. The simple fact is that college costs have skyrocketed in recent decades (not just tuition costs, but textbooks as well), and the costs have risen eight times faster than wages. There are multiple reasons for this, but the biggest is the overt financialization of the higher education system, essentially getting state governments out of it and transforming the sector into a privatized industry.

And the bottom line is that, if you simply consider your educational investment as a product for which there should be commensurate value for what you're paying, the fact that wages don't even come close to tracking with costs mathematically proves that it's a ripoff. American students are getting soaked by Wall Street billionaires, pure and simple.

I'm a Loser, Baby, Slight Return: Rich Dud, Poor Dud

I have asked this question, with slight variations, many times over the years here:  if you had a billion dollars, what would you do? Specifically, what sort of activities would take up your day, which is now completely wide open -- more money than you could possibly spend, all the time you could ever want to do all the things you really want to do, with no concerns whatsoever about commercial viability or making a living.

Now, as celebrity chefs would say, let's kick it up a notch or two. You are worth ten billion dollars, and you are the chief executive of the United States of America, so you have real power and standing to go with your material wealth. What sorts of things do you choose to do?

You can travel anywhere, anytime, speak with pretty much anyone you wish. You can meet your favorite artists and actors and musicians, the people whose work has added to your inner life, made you feel things worth feeling, reminded you with their songs and stories why life is worth not just living, but experiencing, engaging.

You can almost literally do anything and everything you want, at any time, at any place.

Depending on the day, Trump claims to be worth anywhere from four to ten billion dollars. Since his real-estate portfolio is mostly private, and he doesn't pay taxes, there is no documentation to verify. But even Forbes magazine, whose annual wealth list generally amounts to padded toadying, can't seem to push Fatboy's net worth over three billion.

I mean, you know Trump's lying, because there is no personal anecdote or data item too large or small for him to lie about. About the only things you know for certain are his date and place of birth, and the names of his close family members. Everything else is a lie.

But let's say for the sake of argument that Forbes is somewhat in the ballpark; let's say they exaggerated his net worth by about two hundred percent. So he's actually worth only one billion dollars. That's still a lot of fucking money. And you have that political and cultural power of the office you hold.

So how's your holiday weekend going?

Again, more money than most hard-working people will see in ten generations, a wife, five kids, ten or so grandkids, infinite options for your day. And this is how he chooses to spend it, whining for the millionth fucking time about James Comey, and telling another "sir" story about the chick from Will & Grace, from like fifteen years ago.

It is impossible for me to complain about this. I think it is glorious. This right here is the vengeance I always wanted, when I think about it. The man could have anything he wants, and he's such a pathetic dullard, this is all he wants, to be seen as an embittered, crazy old man ranting about the last thing he saw on Fox & Fiends.

The only thing that would make this better is if he was doing it from Leavenworth, but this is still pretty good. He's nothing but a miserable old fuck, surrounded by people just like himself -- transactional to the bone, no genuine feeling or friendship anywhere he goes. Everyone either wants to suck up to him to get something out of him, or they want to tell him what a worthless turd he is. And that's his schtick with the rest of the world, so he gets nothing out of that.

One of my favorite things about Obama's tenure as imperial custodian was how much joy he clearly got from using the cultural power of the presidency. He likes music and books and sports, so he invited musicians and authors and athletes he enjoyed as an unabashed fan. He made the connections between art and greater civic life, and tried to put those forth as a show of the wonderful things people can create when they are sufficiently inspired and motivated.

Trump, on the other hand, is only a fan of his own vainglory and ricockulous self-regard, so this is really all there is for him, sitting at his own resort, watching propaganda teevee, cheating at golf, and shitposting sitcom actors. Waiting to see if the hurricane will visit 180 mph of karma on his roach-infested dump in Florida. That's exactly what he'll do when he leaves office, however that happens.

Whatever your political persuasion, whatever your opinion of Trump, you have to admit that's pretty damned pathetic. I personally know people who get by on fifteen bucks an hour, barely a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of, working jobs they hate, no time for nothing, but they're over on the beautiful Cali coast right now with their families, enjoying the ocean, maybe grilling up a few burgers, enjoying life.

Hell, I've knocked out some lengthy posts in here over the weekend, but that's a blip in the middle of tons of other fun stuff -- playing and recording some musical ideas, working on a few creative writing and graphic projects, spending time with my family, firing up the barbecue and cracking open a few beers.

I mean, I gave these two schmucks a hard time about their weekend activity, but I also think there's a very strong possibility that because of their socioeconomic status, their geographic location, their clearly bad angle on interpersonal relations with flesh-and-blood humans, their choices were far more constrained even than most working-class dogs. For the millionth time, Trump can do anything he wants, and he wants to do this. I bet he misses giving Robert Pattinson unwanted dating advice, and trolling Rosie O'Donnell (I hear she's fat, you guys!).

That's just so awesome. If that's what you consider winning, I'd hate to see losing. I actually derive joy from knowing that it is impossible for him to derive real joy from anything in life. The only thing that makes him "happy" is fucking other people over or taking a public shit on them, and that's the happiness of the sociopath, of a person who literally does not know how to be happy. All those privileges and breaks his entire life, and for this.

The man is a complete waste of power, money, and fast food. Jesus, go play with your grandkids and leave us alone for one fucking day, you weird, wretched old man.

I'm a Loser, Baby, So Why Don't You Kill Me

Listening to the new Tool album (possibly a review in a couple days), strolling about on the internets, this little gem over at Balloon Juice becomes more and more interesting the more I look at the two sad sacks in the photo from Sam Bishop's Twitter feed. Definitely click on the photo to embiggen. Be thankful that at least you know these two aren't able to contribute to the gene pool, since no woman in her right mind would fuck either of them on a dare.

But they are genuinely fascinating, and not just in the you know, guys, technically 'incel' is not exactly the same as 'straight', right? sense. I mean, they took some time to get the look down and then "travel" (as opposed to drive) eight hours....to do that for several more hours. (Maybe they traveled first and then got the get-up on. Same amount of time, different sequence of events.)

It makes me think of all the simple life-changing (for them) activities they could have enjoyed on this nice holiday weekend:

• Get a cheap guitar at a pawnshop and learn a few basic chords.
• Read a book that isn't about a comic-book character.
• Do a few sit-ups. Seriously, these guys look like a massive wad of chewed bubble gum, like all they do is jerk off and eat powdered donuts.
• Go outside and toss a ball around for a while. Fresh air and sunshine works wonders.
• Put a nice steak or some chicken on the barbecue. Burgers, hot dogs, whatever. Even public parks have grills. Crack open a beer. The first sip of beer -- even cheap beer -- on a summer afternoon is glorious, life-affirming. Smell the meat sizzling on the grill. Breathe in the day and just look around. Put your damned phone away for a few minutes.
• Talk to a female -- like, a living, breathing, right-there-in-front-of-you woman. They're pretty cool in 3D. True story. Don't worry about what to say to her. Hey, how's it going? Beautiful afternoon, right? We're just cueing up a few burgers, having a beer, tossing the ball. How 'bout them [random NFL team], ready for the new season? Don't overthink it, and don't talk about your fucking Sargon of Akkad throw pillow, or the collection of stray cat skulls you have in your parents' basement.

Whether Dumb and Dumber got to the (ahem) Straight Pride Parade via Greyhound or the Mom-mobile, the fact is that all of the above would have cost the same or less, and been far more productive in being, you know, a functioning human being, rather than a hopeless loser. I don't know who the hell these weirdos think they're pwning. I mean, I kinda feel sorry for them, that their parents clearly don't care enough to point these basic things out.

More seriously, bearing in mind the "all poodles are dogs, but not all dogs are poodles" principle, this is exactly the sort of person who, given opportunity and proximity to firearms and/or pharmaceuticals, eventually snaps after realizing what his life really is one too many times. Slaps on the Kek facepaint and the rainbow wig one last time and goes all It on the nearest Walmart, only with dad's Bushmaster and a high-capacity drum.

I don't know what, if anything, can "be done" about these guys, you know, preventively. Part of it depends on how old they are, which admittedly is difficult to tell from the costumes. Maybe they're young, in high school or just out, seventeen to twenty-one, in which case, good chance they'll grow out of it the second they figure out that real live women are way better than throw pillows and porn.

If they're more like twenty-five, give or take, it may be more contingent on what their job prospects are, if they have the drive to improve their skill set and get the fuck out of whatever hick town they're festering in. If they're thirty or older, you better watch out for them, especially if you're female.

I mean, there's a solid chance guys like this snap earlier than that; the Dayton and El Paso and Gilroy shooters weren't even old enough to legally drink, none of them. But common sense should tell you everything you need to know if you encounter someone like that who is past a certain age. Anyone who's thirty years or older and doing what those guys in the photo are doing, their whole life is a fucking cry for help, guaranteed.

Seriously, it's Labor Day weekend; it's gotta be hot under a clown costume, rainbow wig, and face paint. That's dedication, well past the usual point of hurr, just kidding, ironic memes you guys! these schmucks usually troll with. There's a pathology at work there, and it's not just the surface gay-bashing nonsense that is ostensibly the focus of the gathering.

People with options and opportunities and normal modes of social interaction don't do this sort of shit, obviously. Whether a light bulb goes on for some of them, or they're able to meet someone that they trust who can lead them away from this self-immolation with like-minded weirdos, hopefully at least some of them find their way out of what must be a bewildering, exhausting way to live.

I know how it is to feel like a dork in high school, liking girls but not really knowing how to talk to them, you know, like that. It takes some work to figure it out, but once you do, it's a snap. It's not that creepy "pickup artist" shit either, where pathetic assholes trick the incel dopes into thinking you can "get" women to do "whatever you want" like life is a porn movie.

You want to know the trick? Here it is, free of charge:  listen. Converse, be engaged, let her talk, be responsive. Don't do a data dump and tell her your life story on the first date. Don't be a creep and leer at her tits. Seriously, it's not that complicated. If you listen and she likes you, she will let you know pretty quickly if she's interested. And if not, it shouldn't be a problem to just move on, since you now know the trick, which is not really a trick.

Figuring out that little basic fact of life made my late teens and early-mid twenties fun, like unbelievably fun. And no, I don't just mean getting laid, though that's certainly part of it. But the back-and-forth of interpersonal contact, with your crew of male friends, as well as with women, is something that cannot be replicated with social media. As amusing as the gadgets of the current age are, it was something of a blessing to not have all those toys to fall back on at the time, to be forced in a sense to learn real social skills, because there wasn't much else to do otherwise.

And it seems like more and more people, especially young men, are reaching the age of "maturity" without understanding that very important difference, between the snarky memes and inside jokes of the virtual world, and the consequences of deploying that stuff on real live people right in front of you. They don't know quite how to operate as comfortably in meatspace, and so they retreat further into their weird little virtual worlds, where they are always right and mighty, and no one gives them weird looks and asks them what the fuck is up with the throw pillow.

If I was to tell those guys anything, rather than sweating the intricacies of "straight pride" or whatever bullshit they're masking their insecurities with this weekend, I'd tell them that, how fun life can really be when you're that age and the whole world is still out there waiting for you to engage with it, if you have the guts to meet it halfway. I literally cannot imagine ever wasting a holiday weekend traveling eight hours to dress up like an asshole and make a fool out of yourself, and I once saw Poison in concert. Someone should let them know that it really doesn't have to be that way, not even close.