Trump Lives Free in Airport Hangar

 DATELINE: Rally ‘Round the Flag?

If you follow the weather in New England, you only have to wait a minute to discover Trump just had his rainfall checked.

A big rally in Manchester, New Hampshire, at an airport hangar was postponed for Saturday because Tropical Storm Fay wanted to intrude. The White House chose to back down from getting their supporters all wet.

The problem is that Fay will have been long gone by the time of the rally. So, what is really going on here? It may be actually that the crowd was going to be so small, lessened by raindrops falling on their head, that the campaign decided to bail out.

The image of Air Force One surrounded by 50 people just didn’t cut the mustard of big rallies.

The hangar where no UFOs are stored was a small venue for Trump, but the visual would show crowds pouring out into the tarmack. Alas, if there is no drizzle of crowd noise, Trump will be stuck with another bad optic effect: he’s losing support.

He thought at one point he could muster the racism of New Hampshire into an eked-out victory in November, but polls now show he is trailing badly to Sleepy Joe, the man whose pillow talk soothes the country.

The White House no longer gives crowd expectation size, having been burned in Tulsa where the few supporters now all have coronavirus. It seems they were willing to hand out masks in New Hampshire, but no one likes to be sick—and supporting Trump has now become a symptom of being so sick you belong in a psycho ward.

We also would point out that the supporters of Confederacy, Robert E. Lee, and the night they drove old Dixie down, are few and far between in Yankee New Hampshire where living free is only slightly more popular than to die.

 

 

 

 

 

 Go West, Young Voter!

DATELINE: IQ Not a Barrier!

 

If you did not already believe that any idiot can become president of the United States, Kanye West is the example to prove the point.

His campaign motto shall be, “Go West, or Go to Hell,” and voters of an ilk will likely respond. He doesn’t need the senior vote, and has no intention of putting the Pointer Sisters into his cabinet.

Yes, this musical maven has announced he is fit and ready to be your next president. Despite being a Trump lackey, he has found the limelight too much to his liking.

He first big donor has lined up: another half-wit billionaire by the name of Elon Musk. He’s the guy ready to send you to Mars with no return ticket. And now, Mark Cuban who famously was called out by his player, Kevin Durant, with the words, “Cuban is a idiot.”

Spaceshots are already clamoring to be president of Mars. No mail-in ballots will be allowed on Phobos.

It’s now clear who has been abducted by space aliens and who is the pilot of your local UFO. Kanye will hold his convention and nomination rally at Area 51 where long runways and reverse engineers are preparing his Oval Office décor.

To balance the ticket, Kanye needs to find the right Veep and Justin Bieber may be a tad young, but he won’t be in line to succeed for eight years. Justin Timberlake is too far left. Taylor Swift has turned him down.

Kayne West already will tell you his black life matters more than others: he makes big money and has a famous wife. Kim Kardashian may not be Jackie Kennedy Onassis, but she certainly will give her best imitation. Jay-Z is set to be campaign manager. And Drake has promised to bring in the LGBT vote.

By the way, the Federal Election Commission is investigating Kanye for false filing information. The joke will be over soon enough.

 

 

Trump’s Confederate Roots

DATELINE:Pass the Buttersworth!

Is there an official tally somewhere?  Just how many slaves does Donald Trump own?

Trump will miss Aunt Jemima when she’s gone.

Based on his vehement defense of Confederate generals, flags, and plantation mentality, we presume he is the last slave owner in America. Or, are we mistaken? Those people surrounding him are zombies, not slaves.

Maybe it was Fred Trump, the KKK wannabe wizard, who owned the slaves or treated his workers like slaves.

The brain dead seem to gravitate to the man whose billions of dollars may well be in Confederate currency.

Throw anyone in jail who dares to malign Gone with the Wind.

Donald Trump may be the only person in the United States who is standing on the dock awaiting the arrival of  Mississippi gamer boat, Waiting for the Robert E. Lee, of Al Jolson fame.

No doubt Trump prefers Jolson in black-face singing, “Mammy,” as he pours Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup on his Uncle Ben rice.

He likely hums “I Wish I Were in Dixie,” before going onstage for his notorious political rallies.

Jeff Davis would be proud. John Wilkes Booth would not shoot Trump.

Typhoid Trump Test Swabs Destroyed!

DATELINE: Poisoned Swabs!

 Up Your Nose!

After Trump’s ill-advised trip to a Maine factory where they make test swabs for the coronavirus, we are forced to ask the question:

Is Trump infected? Is he the Typhoid Mary of the COVID-19 generation?

It seems more than a few people think so. Immediately after his visit to Guilford’s swab manufacturing plant, all swabs made during his visit were discarded and destroyed.

Trump, you guessed it, did not wear a mask during his visit to the company where his supporters and donors invited him. They wore masks, but he breathed over everything. You don’t want to put a swab up your nose that has Trump microbes on it.

Yes, the owners of the company fear that he ruined a day’s work when every test swab is needed, owing to a shortage.

It seems that Trump is tainted with cornonavirus, and it’s the best kept secret in the White House. He is likely to be asymptomatic: one of those cursed souls who spreads the menacing virus—but never fully comes down with the sickness.

In the 19thcentury, Typhoid Mary was a mere interloper in spreading microbes. Trump is a Master salesman: he refuses outright to wear a mask or sanitize. Everyone around him must do so.

The Maine town that voted for Trump two to one in 2016 is unrepentant—and welcomed the racist carrier back to spread more disease.

Now, when he touches the very equipment used to track the disease, you have the worst possible scenario for its spread.

Typhoid Trump strikes again!

Trump’s Heart of Darkness

Behind Trump’s Hitler persona, there lurks the heart of Josef Stalin.

The POTUS called governors of the states “weak.”  He wants to crack down on protestors by putting them in jail for ten years so “we never see this stuff again.”

Now we know why he wanted to buy Greenland, he was planning on turning it into a gulag where all political dissidents would be housed.

It isn’t enough to round up illegal immigrants and throw them into prison without due process, he now wants to either shoot American citizens or lock them up. Oh, where have we heard that mantra before?

If anyone needs to be locked up in a looney bin, it is Trump.

Never mind the Constitutional guarantees of free assembly or speech. The only right he believes in is having a gun to shoot people on Fifth Avenue.

If the sociopathic nature of Trump were located in the heart of Jack the Ripper we would not be surprised. He is nothing short of a billionaire twin of Robert Durst. He is the emotional twin of Jeffrey Epstein. If it does not please him, he plucks it out.

He loves to quote racist rants of the 1950s and 1960s that is music to the ears of his racist supporters. We have never met a racist who knew what it was or thought it was all that important. Self-knowledge is impossible to an idiot.

He hunkers down in his bunker like Hitler during his last ten days. And he calls out to his vicious dogs and deadly weapons to smite his enemies.

Can it be that Trump’s insanity has grown worse? Those who defend racism as a minor infraction are quick to join the genocidal gang that want to unmask oldsters and give them coronavirus. The rest of the unwanted ranks can be killed in the streets.

Trump values the heart of the dollar more than the human heart.

Trump Flees to Florida

DATELINE: Storming the White House

 Trump & Mentor.

Gutless and a snivellling coward, Donald Trump has fled the White House. See Donald run. How fast does he run? Hightailing it out of town is a new record.

A night of loud protest, storming the gates of the People’s Home terrified Trump enough that he was up to 3:30 am. He announced that he was safe within because the paid civil-servants known as Secret Service are ready to protect his sorry ass, no matter what kind of a tool he is.

A predecessor in the White House, named Harry Truman, once said, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” And Trump has taken his Tupperware and canned beans on the road. At Mar-a-lago, he will find a golf course in which to hide.

The mayor of Washington, D.C., had it correct when she called him afraid and alone, needing vicious dogs and a body guard. They could not quell the noise.

As a result of losing sleep, the coward has flown off today to Florida where Hitler once reportedly was living in Naxi exile.

We know that people like Trump in history do not always end well.

The storming of the White House gates almost had a parallel to the storming of the Bastille in Paris. We were trying to recall if the King of France fled in terror from his citizens like Donald Trump.

It did not save Louis, though he did not have to face the voters, now angry about a pandemic and racial injustice.

Does Trump get it? No more than Marie Antoinette. If Trump could be quoted, he might say let them eat bullets from his national police state.

Warhol’s Salacious Classic Short

DATELINE: Nothing Ventured?

  Big Moment on Film.

All good things must come to an end, and there may be no more edgy way to end another collection than with our first viewing of Andy Warhol’s 1963 salacious film called Blow-Job.

No one knows whether this was pure acting, or impure acting. Since more orgasmic porno is faked anyhow, we are sure that Warhol was keeping his secret. There is more edginess here than in a modern 21stcentury real thing effort.

Don’t get your knickers in. a twist. This film is the 27-minute version, and it is silent as well as black and white. If there had been sound, we may have accused the star of over-acting his role center-stage.

The star was a 24-year old actor who resembled James Dean, perhaps a fetish of Warhol. DeVeren Bookwaiter went out to do Shakespeare on stage and even appeared in the legit movie The Enforcer. We aren’t sure how many jobs he won as a result of his Warhold notoriety. We never see the costar.

The film starts slow before its inevitable climax. We suspect that foreplay may have enhanced the length—er, of the film. We see the main character only from his shoulders up, in a stylish leather jacket standing before one of those ubiquitous brick walls of New York.

Occasionally he looks nervous like he may hear the police siren closing in. For the most part, he moves around the film frame, and Warhol does not. So, the star often ducks into facial shadow, so we cannot see his bliss.

This could be a farce, or just a sex romp.

Now and then he throws his head back into the light of ecstasy. You cannot hear him, but several times he seems to say the word, “Yes,” and near-on to 17 minutes he may shout out an epithet beginning with F.

The film goes in an out of a white blank, followed by the editor dots. It was either a second helping, or retakes by Warhol. His camera seems to be having more fun the actor in question.

You know you are approaching the end when he throws up both hands and rubs his head. The real tell-tale sign that our break is near, he lights up a cigarette. On the whole, the film is fairly boring. Perhaps you had to be there.

We think he said, “thank you,” near the end as smoke got in his eyes.

Well, that’s art for you.

TB 12 is Cited, not Sighted!

DATELINE: What Coronavirus? 

What, me worry?

If you are to believe the spinmeisters, Tom Brady (Tampa Brady 12) was cited for a misdemeanor for using a city park during the coronavirus pandemic.

Tampa Bay hardly wants to besmirch its newly arrived superstar—and whatever legal or police action was hastily buried, burned, covered up, and called a misunderstanding.

It now seems semantics over TB (Tom Bay 12) is at the crux of the problem. It seems the mayor of Tampa Bay is backtracking her officials: it seems she merely meant Tom had been sighted, not cited.

A Tom Brady sighting is one thing, and a Tom citation is quite another.

We know well that Tom Brady never practices alone in a park: he has a well-selected entourage, befitting a superstar, to catch his passes and pass his jokes on.

To say TB 12 was a man alone in the park is disingenuous, but fans are likely to agree with TB that the coronavirus is a tempest in a teapot, much ado about nothing.

As a Republican now in a Republican state, Tom never has to say he’s sorry for throwing social distance for a incomplete pass.

The idea that Tom may actually disaparage the deadly pandemic is well-within his new found freedom to live in Trump’s newly chosen home state.

You may well ask why Tom must chose a public venue for his practice when he can afford any private gym for whatever cost is charged. It’s the principle. He can do and will do whatever his Tom Foolery allows.

If you think Tom was sighted, you may well consider yourself “short-sighted” because like his former Patriots owner and surrogate father, Robert Kraft, cited in Florida is usually reserved for being caught with one’s pants down in a public area.

Tampa Bay has now discovered TB has a whole new public relations freedom—and city officials are scrambling to adjust to the new reality: pandemics be damned.

TB is now better protected by his line of baloney, from his line of baloney. For his line of baloney.

Isn’t It Romantic? Yes, We Need It.

DATELINE:  Rarity, Rom-Com!

 Charming Cast!

Oh, my, a mere trifle, a little movie satire of rom-coms.

It isn’t brutal, but is gently sweet and it manages to convey its cynical attitude through the big girl Rebel Wilson as a wall-flower overlooked by friends, coworkers, and society as a whole. She grows up learning she is not Julia Roberts.

We kept waiting for a new version of the classic tune Isn’t It Romantic,that was the key song in its own movie in the 1930s and in Sabrina in the 1950s. Well, it never shows up, though there are several hilarious and giant musical numbers that give the entire cast a chance to show off skills not otherwise employed.

She is unlucky in love, and then is mugged: banging her head, to awaken in an alternate universe of romantic comedy, the film genre she despises so deeply. It’s a movie stage version of her life, complete with musical interludes, a gay sidekick, and a wardrobe for the big size.

Throw in Liam Hemsworth as a billionaire playboy in counterpoint to the average nerd who adores her at work, and you have all the ingredients for a classic silly comedy. She fears she will end up in a slo-mo climax—and indeed, what she wishes not for.

Everything is right, not overbearing, and the sweetness is within the cursing cynicism of Rebel Wilson who decries this romantic version of the Big Apple and all the lovely people in it.

If you need a diversion nowadays—and who doesn’t with coronavirus and masks everywhere—then this ditty will hit the spot more than ever before. We might have disparaged it a year ago, but today, we embraced its escapist charm.

Depending on how bad the news becomes, this movie will be nearby for a second viewing, the only antidote to the horrors of a pandemic.

Westworld 3.2 Shows Nazi-world

DATELINE: Episode Two of WWIII 

You can’t keep track of the androids without a scorecard. They are everywhere, and we might even call them Replicants, but that’s another movie called Blade Runner. Same idea, different off-world rebels. This show is called Westworld III, and you may be lost in the escape from robotic Centerville. They don’t want to call it world of Nazi, so it’s Warworld. No, we didn’t see a Trump lookalike cavorting there, either as a host or a guest.

We’ve been a bit confused (who isn’t?) when normal humans are taking on dangerous roles as bodyguards, etc. Why are the robots not here in spirit?

Since everyone seems to have a duplicate robot version, powered by a dirty powerball, everyone should theoretically be back for another season. However, the man behind the curtain is the wizard of Westworld, named Jonathan Nolan, and he decides if you go over the rainbow, or are simply deleted.

So, don’t grow despondent if your previous favorite character is nowhere to be seen—like Thandie Newton. The actress now shows up as an incongruous black woman in Naziworld. Who knew?

All journeys end up back at Westworld—where we find Maeve, Bernard, and a couple of humans. One surprise is that one of our favorite humans turns out to be another robotic programmed automaton. Who knew?

Somebody knows that Maeve is an agent of rebellion because they are trying to entice her with her former human friends to tell them what Dolores is up to. Failing that, she seems to be the robot recruit of the month to lead opposing forces to stop Evan Rachel Wood’s mad automaton attack on human existence.

In case you are wondering why the robots are looking older, we figured out that most of the cast is in their 40s, and unique robots, they cannot hold back time. However, stars like Thandie look marvelous for the given age.

So this is the set up for the shortened season three.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Words from the Village Idiot

DATELINE: The World as You No Longer Know It!

It takes a coronavirus to see behind the masks. The world is now filled with covidiots.

The world has changed totally when the people you know change abruptly and completely.

Oh, that COVID-19, what a card to play! It seems perhaps that any crisis or panic of this magnitude would make the true character of people to emerge. Make no mistake. It has done so.

Of course, this is not just any crisis. It is a monumental game-changer, something not known since the Pied Piper went toot-toot-tooting along.

We have known people for decades—or thought we knew them. However, the frightful situation now facing so many states of being has made alterations to the basic attitudes of those we used to socialize with near and distantly. Six feet is not distant, nor deep enough.

Some friends have become skittish and unbearable to bear. Others have become insensitive louts who think they can lick any disease and care not one whit who dies, even themselves.

As the body bag toll rises, those who want to spread the word of God, fail to realize they are spreading the virus in God’s name.

The Pearl Harbor of our time, as one wag called it, will be dwarfed by Mother Nature not liking to be compared to man-made war, pestilence, and grief.

Some friends want to listen to New Age music, as if the age of Aquarius might be better than the age of Black Death.

Binge-watching junk like Exotic Joe and his tigers seems to be the escape du jour.Others are actually more dedicated to saving animals, as if that goodness might be less of an obsession and more of a humanitarian effort. All is vanity.

Who will feed those horses when the equestrian handlers are hospitalized or dead? Those will likely become the four horses of the apocalypse.

Oldsters are venturing out, without masks, several times a day as if to challenge the Death Wish syndrome, as if to prove they’ve lived their allotted time on Earth. Heaven help them.

If you are not sickened by the viral spread, you will be sickened by the political genocide advocated by some. Kill your enemies, or even your supporters, to prove a point.

The world is too much with us—for now.

TB12 Knocks Coronavirus Off the Scorecard

DATELINE: Deflated at Last

Tom Brady is taking his football and heading south.

You can blame the Patriots for not wanting to invest in a man who claims he has found the Fountain of Youth. We recall from history that another gentleman of the old school went to Florida on his quest: Ponce de Leon also thought the elixir of eternal and immortal life awaited him in the bays of Florida.

Bill Belichick now will show he is the genius by winning another Super Bowl without Brady. Heaven help him if his team tanks.

As for Brady, he is trading Paul Revere for Jean LaFitte. He is a trader of the first order, heading for the world of Disney and smart dolphins like Flipper.

If you wonder if he will be motivated, you never followed Deflategate, which sent him reeling into a new stratosphere.

Some never believed Belichick would let it go this far, but that parallel universe: In Bill We Trust, now is on confederate tender.

The all-seeing eye of money is looking back at the Patriot Place and finding that TB12 is a franchise that will sell more jerseys with a new logo.

As for Brady in New England, it was NEVER his home, and if you think he won for Boston, you are deluded. He happened to win while in the Greater Boston area. He would have been just as elated to win in Tampa Bay over the past 20 years.

He never spoke a bad word about Aaron Hernandez, and we figure he will give Belichick the same courtesy.

Now, the curiosity factor will follow him, eyes moving across the gridiron looking for a train wreck.

We Like Mike & His Money!

DATELINE: Cost of Doing Business

High Priced Ticket?

Democrats are accusing Mike Bloomberg of buying the election. They seem to have missed the incident where Trump is paying money to black ministers and churches, through their local fund-raisers. Now that’s buying votes with cash.

Bloomberg is accused of spending his unlimited wealth ($61 billion is unlimited, folks) to purchase airtime on TV and opening offices, paying people to work for him.

That’s buying workers through a payroll. What’s wrong with that? Some people need a job. Who does not want to be paid for his time? Those other Democrats prefer you volunteer and receive no money for time.

There is a tinge of jealousy in these Democrat candidates, and it is understandable. These poor candidates cannot spend what they don’t have: and if Bloomberg were not a candidate, maybe he’d give that money to them.

The fact is that Bloomberg is well-positioned to beat Trump. And, that should be the name of the Democrat game. It isn’t. Small and poor candidates like Bernie do not care about anyone other than themselves. Isn’t that the bottom line? And how does Bernie differ in that way from Trump?

More than money, we have a problem with all these candidates pushing 80 years of age wanting to serve as a four-year president. It is arrogant. It is overly optimistic. It is a shade in the old-timer’s disease category.

Don’t call us ageist. We are there too. And we know our time limits.

 

 

Area 51 Overexposed & Underwhelmed

DATELINE: Unrestricted Pabulum

A new documentary by the notorious director O. U. Krill may be snazzy and overproduced. It is beautifully filmed, down to the fake interiors of Area 51 Exposed.

The film does offer a concise history of the base going back to 1955, but intersperses this with open product endorsements for Bud Light and Arbys meat house.

The UFO stuff is secondary to the long history of Soviet aircraft captured and tested.

You will learn that the base started out with a volleyball court and movie theater for the schmucks stuck there all week. Buses and airlines out of Burbank for Lockheed employees brought top secret workers like Bob Lazar into the haven. Heaven forefend if you had a camera.

Restricted is the favorite word at Area 51. Airspace, ground-space, every space is restricted. If the government hasn’t got you covered in cameras and snipers, you may well end up one of those lost souls who enter the desert and are never heard of again.

Bob Lazar, sometime worker, claims that gray aliens have been injecting themselves in human history for at least 10,000 years.

If the secrecy seems a tad overdone, you may be onto something. There is more than a usual secure base here. Only in the past decade has it been acknowledged as existing, despite mountaintop photos of the installation.

Nellis or Groom Lake is described three times as 80 miles from Vegas, then 100 miles, and a third time as 150 miles away. It is farther away every time they mention it. The narrator also speaks of Bob Lazr’s “synonym” (he means pseudonym), and before you know it, you are off Area 51 and talking about Bernie Sanders offering to reveal gray alien info if elected president.

Groom Lake is also called Dreamland because time travel experiments are reportedly done there!  However, this useless documentary also takes us on sidetrips to New Hampshire.to talk of Betty and Barney Hill.

All in all, this is a disappointing waste of time and plain awful–so, save your rental money.

 

 

 

 

 

Tom in a Tunnel, Sees the Light

DATELINE: Where is he?

 Lost in Art?

Whenever we have a chance to opine about metaphor, count us in.

Tom Brady posted a tunnel of himself, in civilian clothes, in a black and silver tunnel in an unknown park runway.

His wife is a model, but Brady is not.

He is house-hunting and taking his son around to check out schools in Nashville, Tennessee, today. That is hardly where he will retire. That is hardly where his wife wants to be, and his son loves hockey. We know that Tom talked to coaches in New England about hockey, of which he was ignorant, but doing a crash course to keep up with his son.

There is not much hockey in Vegas.

Retirement communities in Nashville and Vegas are popular, but Brady wants to play a few more seasons.

Ah, metaphor! No metaphor is perfect. But they are powerful tools to understand the world.

No one has mentioned Kobe and Tom. Has the death of a superstar ball player had an impact on his thinking? Yes, but not to the point of leaving the game apparently. He simply will go to a team where he can spend more time with his family—not training callow youth in how to play.

It is not the tunnel of death, nor the tunnel of love, where you are surrounded by those you know—especially at the end where you are at heaven’s gate. No, there is no welcome committee here, no wagon of goodies for his delectation.

Tom is a man who owes no one and will consult no one. This is his life alone.