Plot Twists

John Frederick Kensett, Sunset Over the Catskills

The Rapture did actually happen but only second born daughters with artistic leanings, who rock rare diseases, are in possession of generally inappropriate senses of humor, can be counted on for consistent social awkwardness, and have questionable sartorial tendencies were eligible for the 11AM beanstalk ride to the Elysian Fields. For once, I totally fit the bill. I was a complete match for what this Jesus dude was looking for. That’s NEVER happened to me before!

So, why am I still here blogging when I could’ve been riding the sky with Susan Power, Chrissie Hynde, Elaine de Kooning, Diane di Prima, Debra Haaland  and Joan Armatrading? (Okay, maybe these women don’t meet all/most of the Rapture qualifications but, from what I’ve been told, Bastet makes exceptions) Yesterday I could have been sharing a blunt with Chrissie whilst comparing paint notes with Elaine…just for starters but NOOOOOOOO.

What happened? I was in the can, didn’t hear the bus pull up, and had to give Cake a few last chin skritches before exiting stage left. The driver had a lot of stops to make and just couldn’t wait. Rats!!!

So, here I am, stuck on Planet Earth with all those dimbulbed, hypocritical, perpetually bullying, whiny-ass, snowflake evangelicals. Christ almighty. I can totally understand why Yuri Gagarin and Alan Shepard were so eager to get off the planet.

Fer instance, the orange embodiment of all that is vile and corrupt and his faithful clown car crew, used Chiclet Teeth’s “memorial service” as a batshit holy roller, right-wing revival meeting in a vain effort to boost their plummeting popularity (it’s swirling the toilet with all the monster broccoli and black bean poops).

Stephen Goebbels Miller claimed that “the day that Charlie died, the angels wept, but those tears have been turned into fire in our hearts.” Christ Almighty, spare me the nazi poetics! If his G-d actually existed Miller would have burst into flame right there and then.

Stinky talked about “radical-left lunatics” (AKA anyone who disagrees with him about ANYTHING), teased his announcement about Tylenol causing autism, and, as usual, spewed a bunch of lies from his now sagging hate hole.

These losers are so damn desperate to paint those to their Left (which would include most of the universe with a reasonable claim to sanity) as violent terrorists (projection much?). Their panicky desperation would be funny is it weren't so unnerving.

Meanwhile, Chiclet’s widow has been linked to a “charity” in Romania which has been accused of trafficking children. While she was definitely involved with the organization, the allegations have not yet been proven. The report that Erika Kirk is another Ghislaine Maxwell and is banned from entering Romania remains in the rumor realm at this point. 

Interesting though.

Tube Time Fun

I had another MRI yesterday. Whoopee! This one was for my spine. We’re still trying to find the root cause of the, now only occasional, interior numbness and swelling within my left foot, ankle, and calf. YES, it could totally be related to the vibrant tumor farm along my neuro system. Ya know, this being due to my fun, FUN, and relatively rare disease, neurofibromatosis type 2. Act now kids and NO you more than likely won’t get a case of your very own. NF2 only favors one lucky individual out of a sea of 40,000 people. Yeah, I'm BIG special.

July’s brain scan established that my up top tumors, particularly those camping out on me old motor cortex, are chilled out and not involved in my calf/ankle/foot antics. YEA! Hopefully, the xenomorph wrapped around my thoracic spine hasn’t gained any mass and is still sleeping. The MRI tech’s report drops in two days so, of bloody course, I’ll read it ahead of my October 9th follow up meeting with the good Doc Plotkin. I like to be prepared, have an inkling of what I can mebbe expect.

Considering the ankle swelling happens only occasionally now AND I’ve been able to work back up to doing 25 minutes at a time on my recumbent elliptical, I’m absolutely ready to class this calf/ankle/foot hullabaloo as just one of those funky-ass consequences of getting older. e.g., I rolled over in bed funny and strained my ankle (or I could have inadvertently stepped on a dove?). Then I walked on it too much and made it worse.

Welcome to life after 65 where just taking a breath in an out of the ordinary manner can put you in a neck brace for a month. Not that I’ve done this…yet.

I don’t know if this, sleeping on my ankle/foot funny, is the case here. The root cause may still be in this ratbastard disease that I’m rocking. Maybe it’s a combo of aging and NF2. With Michie’s death still fresh in my heart (and not knowing the specific cause or the path she rode during her last few month) I wonder. A LOT.

The other worrisome bit – the techs told me I’d be in the tube for 40-45 minutes. It was an hour and 40 minutes! What the schwannomatic fuck? I mean, I know that my thoracic monster is, well, monstrous, but…sheesh. This is disturbing and I seriously deserved a cookie after that scan.

I did manage, this time around, to get my MRI calm-me-down meds right. You may recall the last time when I maybe shouldn’t have mixed so many gummies with my lorazepam? Yeah, I went on THE most mind-bending psychedelic journey whilst tube riding. Oopsie! 

Nothing like being a disabled woman in her late 60s, coming out of an hour long MRI scan, announcing “I’m trippin’ my balls off here. I don’t actually have balls but I guess you know that. I gotta pee now.” I *think* I just said that to Jen but, ya know, the techs may’ve overheard.

In general, I was much more dignified yesterday. Possibly. This is good...I guess.

Magic Trick: Turning Chiclets Into Martyrs

Do you know the name Horst Wessel? If, like me, your public school history classes were all about memorizing the dates of battles but not why the battles were fought or the machinations that led up to the entire bloody war to begin with, you’ve probably not heard of Horst either.

Born into a respectable family with a Lutheran minister father, Wessel became politically active during his youth, joining the Nazi Party in 1926 after rejecting other political ideologies he encountered at university. He quickly rose through the ranks, becoming the leader of a faction of the Sturmabteilung (SA), or Brownshirts, where he engaged in violent confrontations with communist groups in Berlin. 

Wessel is perhaps best remembered for his death in 1930, which was shrouded in controversy and quickly became a focal point for Nazi propaganda. His murder by communist members was exploited by the Nazi regime, transforming him into a martyr. The song he wrote, "Die Fahne hoch," later known as the "Horst Wessel Lied,” (Horst Wessel Song) became an anthem for the Nazi Party, symbolizing loyalty and sacrifice for the movement. (source) 

It’s obvious that Pres Pedo, Goebbels Miller, and VP Many Names want to turn Charlie Chiclet Teeth into a martyr but DAYUM there’s only so far you can warp reality before it bounces back.

You just can’t make a Horst Wessel out of a community college dropout, loser whose very own damn wife is selling death merch memorabilia and boosting her own career within hours of his murder. 

Clay Jones

Yeah, I’m well aware that we all grieve differently but this babe’s really working the death profit angle hard. Not a good look. No rapture for you Nazirella

Chiclets was a Nazi and no damn disingenuous cries of “oh, you’re taking what he said out of context” changes the facts. He was a disgusting, hate mongering, unintelligent, cruel, attention whore. His children are better off without him. Certainly his daughter is.   

AND speaking of Nazis (aren’t we always talking about them now?) I simply had to look up the etymology of the term.

 The full name of the Nazi Party was Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (National Socialist German Workers' Party). That’s a mouthful, eh? Officially, the acronym NSDAP was employed.

Opponents of the NSDAP shortened the name Nationalsozialistische to Nazi. Nazi was, pre-NSDAP, a slam used for an awkward, clumsy person, a yokel. Ya know, a dimbulbed hillbilly. Unrelated, the word Nazi was also a nickname for German men named Ignatz (from Ignatius). Ignatz was a common name in Bavaria where the the NSDAP first began.

Nick Anderson

I only mention it BUT Chiclets’ alleged shooter, Tyler Robinson, is supposed to make his first court appearance on Tuesday afternoon. Isn’t that when the Rapture’s scheduled for though? Seems we might have a conflict.

Oh but wait…I’m just now hearing that the Rapture may need to be postponed anyway. Ya see, Jesus got nailed in an ICE raid and we’re not sure where he is.  Maybe he’s with the 1,200 men caged at Alligator Alcatraz who seem to have dropped out of existence? Maybe some of them are still at Alligator Alcatraz (which has NOT, in fact, closed)? Maybe the Miller/Noem Monster *oopsie* sent Jesus to CECOT, the Salvadorean Hell? Possibly our government is planning to ship god’s son off to Eswatini, formerly known as Swaziland, with Kilmar Abrego Garcia. I only mention it but neither Jesus nor Kilmar are originally from Eswatini. Details, details, eh?

Let's Talk About This Rapture Thing

Gustav Doré, The Last Judgement

So, we’re supposed to have a Rapture this Tuesday or that’s what the Jesus screamers are oh so boldly claiming. One of these god grifters pops up with a predicted all-us-REALLY-special-folk-are-goin'-to-heaven-and-leaving-you-dirtbags-behind date about once a year.

For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. 
~ 1 Thessalonians 4:15–17

So, the dead are the first to go flying? Isn’t that gonna be kind of gross and messy? I mean, for those who’ve been buried, that’s a lot of bones, dried skin, hair, time-shredded clothing, and miscellaneous coffin crap zooming upward. 

What if you’ve had an ugly death? Car crash? Violent murder? Fell off a mountain? Perished from something horrid like necrotizing fasciitis (flesh-eating disease), neurosyphilis, or leprosy? Wouldn't that be kind of a nasty way to live out forever, even though you'll be in the mega awesome digs of Heaven? I mean, nose falling off, constantly leaking blood and pus? Ewwwww!

What about all the folks who were cremated? If their ashes were scattered or buried, what happens? Take The Amazing Bob fer instance – some of his ashes were scattered and some were buried within the roots of a cheery tree in our yard. He’s part of the tree now and, presumably, the fruit of the tree. Those cherries have been eaten by birdies, squirrels, bunnies and what have you. So, if TAB were to be raptured (and, if this fairy tale comes to pass, why the fuck wouldn’t he be?!) would the cherry tree and a bunch off random wildlife go too? I mean, seems logical, right?

How about folks who’ve been buried at sea? Dead humans in the ocean are just fuel for the ecosystem. Crabs, lobsters, and shrimp usually show up to the banquet early. Hagfish and tiger sharks will join in. Will the Rapturing sky look like an after Sunday church Red Lobster lunch-fest?

I’m not expecting to look like Gina Lollobrigida in the after life but, c’mon, I don’t want to be a talking pile of ash or a shrimp munched pile of animated body parts either.

With all the Rapture scares I’ve lived through, you’d think I’d have won some kind of a prize by now. I mean, fer reals and shit. A set of cookware maybe? Frankly, I don’t even know what that might be. Pots and pans? I don’t cook so that’d be useless. A set of encyclopedias? Naw, I’ve got internet access and the Britannica site isn’t paywalled. Round trip tickets and endless spa days and nights at the Silica Hotel in Iceland? NOW we’re talkin’ baby!

Gotta say, you’d think these christians would know what what their very own sacred book states about this Rapturing business.

Fer instance, in their New Testament book, Matthew 24:36: 

But concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only.

But, HEY, why let theological consistency get in the way of a slick scam, eh?

Take a tour through the sewer
Don’t strain your brain
Paint a train
You’ll be singin’ in the rain
I said “Don’t stop, do punk rock”
Rapture – Blondie

What to Watch?

Andor if only for the scene where the young revolutionary Karis Nemik says to Cassian Andor, "The pace of oppression outstrips our ability to understand it, and that is the real trick of the Imperial Thought Machine. It's easier to hide behind 40 atrocities than a single incident.”

We see how a population is subjugated through economic exploitation, a creeping surveillance state and draconian policing that feeds a giant prison industrial complex.  (source) 

Sounds like here and now doesn’t it? All we gotta do is replace Imperial Thought Machine with Despot Demento Donnie’s Deathworks and Kiddie Rape Emporium and we’re all set.

Did Andor's revolutionaries overcome the Evil Empire? I don’t know. I believe I need to know the answer to this before diving into the show, into the Andor storyverse. Why? I need a happy ending. I need some inspiration to hope and dream that our current, supremely wretched reality can get better.

Remember the show Deep Space Nine? It ran from 1993 to 1999 – you know, last century, back when we were young. Deep Space Nine was mostly set on a space station of that same name with Benjamin Sisko as the captain, (played by Avery Brooks).

In a two episode story, Sisko and his crew, through a transporter beam mishap (?) are sent back in time to 2024. Homelessness and wealth disparity are wildly out of control – poor and homeless people are put in concentration camps. Gee, sound familiar? Sisko and team, having just arrived from the future, are without acceptable ID and money. They’re busted and put into the camps.

I don’t remember these episodes but, and this may come as a shock, I haven’t been deeply into ALL of Star Trek's offerings.

The original series, Next Generation, Picard, and Strange New Worlds are, to date, my favorites. Mind you, I truly loved the first few seasons of Discovery, especially all the episodes with Michelle Yeoh as the good Captain Philippa Georgiou and then the evil, despotic Terran Empress Philippa Georgiou Augustus Iaponius Centarius, and finally, the semi-rehabbed, still evil yet heroic Philippa. 

Captain Michael Burnham, played by Sonequa Martin-Green, was Spock’s adopted sister – human but raised Vulcan. She was great for the first three seasons. By season four, Captain Burnham seemed to have lost her Vulcan tone and characteristics. She came down with some serious quirks, like always tilting her head to the side and getting this confused doe-eyed look in her eyes when anything or anyone didn’t respond as she would wish. It came off as Lifetime channel/Hallmark movie concerned/condesending-mother-with-troubled-child level of acting. Martin-Green was SO much better than this in the first few seasons. Whose idea was it to turn her character into a maudlin, repellent cliché?

Clearly I’m still pissed about this.

Neither Andor or DS9 seem to offer up much in the realm of escapism today. After the week’s insanity, I've GOT to take a few hours away from reality. 

Alien: Earth is right out. In it, our planet is ruled by five supremely greedheaded corporations. The only good guys are a bunch of seemingly powerless kids. The show’s brilliant but NOT today, thanks. Life brings enough horror.

Too bad I’m not healthy and wealthy enough to just fly off to another, safer land. Where’s safe though? Russia’s flown drones into Poland and Romania. Naturally, Putin’s best employee, the Tangerine Taint, hasn’t said a word.

I woke from a dream where Ten and I were happily rushing through Logan airport to our departure gate. We were heading to Amsterdam. In real life, I haven’t been there in, probably, 20 years. It’s definitely a walking city so I don’t know how I’d get around now. Luckily, in Dream World, I was still fully mobile. Amsterdam would be a great escape.

Is it more dangerous to be geographically closer to the Russian homicidal madman or the batshit U.S. tantrum toddler?

Spite

Spite
    noun 
: petty ill will or hatred with the disposition to irritate, annoy, or thwart 
    verb
: annoy, offend

If you don’t have hope, have spite. 

I’m not certain there’s any point in having hope anymore so I’ve decided to live in a sea of pure venomous, joyful spite. 

A rattlesnake, if cornered will become so angry it will bite itself. That is exactly what the harboring of hate and resentment against others is – a biting of oneself. We think we are harming others in holding these spites and hates, but the deeper harm is to ourselves. 
~ E. Stanley Jones 

Skeleton with Burning Cigarette, Van Gogh

 The lesson here? Let that anger out. Express that shit. Rock it.

This country has gotten where it is in spite of politics, not by the aid of it. That we have carried as much political bunk as we have and still survived shows we are a super nation.
~ Will Rogers 

Will said this around 100 years ago. Whether or not the U.S. has ever been a “super nation” for any one of us, has entirely depended on the color of our skin, the contents of our bank account and who our family is and knows. Having said that, it seems rather unlikely that this nation ("super" or not) will survive this current round of political bunk.

Stinky and his sycophants are petty, spiteful, low beasts. The people they can't use, steal from or control, they destroy or try to anyway. 

You can feel the stars and the infinity of the sky since life, in spite of everything, is like a dream.
~ Vincent Van Gogh 

Mike Luckovich

Pat Bagley

How do you beat a bully?

Projected on Windsor Castle for Trump's visit

At some point, somewhere, I found a good post about this, specifically in regard to Trump. I believe it was on a 50501 page but I can’t find it now. In any case, here are a few of the good bits I remember that may help when dealing with the mango mobster’s cult.

*  For Trump, outrage is oxygen. The more emotional, reactive, and angry he can make his opposition (us), the more he’s able to frame himself as the victim. His faithful fan’s support mushrooms. 

As much as Trump loves to posture as strongman, he’s much more at home in the whiny poor-pitiful-me role.

Another thing, if he can drive us into an overwhelming state of seemingly uncontrollable rage, he’s succeeded in painting us as the wild, crazy enemy who must be defeated in any way possible. He's won.

*  One of Stinky’s favorite tactics is chaos. The more chaos he creates, the harder it is to fight him. The more he distracts us, the more he can get away with. Picking our battles is important. The problem is that there are SO many battles which need to be fought. How can we prioritize? Find a way.

*  Trump and his sycophantic fanbois like to be the ones setting the ‘debate’ agenda. Don’t let them steamroll you. Grade him/them. How successful is Trump at the job of President? How’s their boy doing? Show ‘em the score card.

Focus on the damage his edicts and actions have caused ordinary citizens – the damage wreaked by his and his appointees dictates. Have your facts ready. If you’re at all like me, you’re not gonna have facts and stats right at the tip of your neocortex, ready for instant retrieval. This is what Notes apps and cue cards are for.

Use facts, but frame them simply. Long-winded rebuttals lose people. They come off as condescending lectures – no one reacts well to those. Use short, repeatable statements like “That’s not what happened – here’s what went down…” Be concise and keep your cool.

IF whoever you’re talking/debating with is listening at all (versus just waiting for their turn to spew canned weaselshit) their bandwidth is, probably, short.

In other scrolling, I found the below text and pics on the How Everything Works Instagram page. How badly has a government fucked up when even the peaceful monks have gone full John Wick?

In 2022, Thailand saw a wave of political unrest that took an unexpected turn when Buddhist monks joined the demonstrations. Traditionally seen as peaceful spiritual leaders, they took to the streets to oppose government corruption and military-backed rule.

What followed was a series of tense confrontations between monks and riot police. Clad in saffron robes, some stood their ground against shields and batons, while others donned gas masks to withstand tear gas and smoke. The sight of monks, usually devoted to meditation and nonviolence, actively resisting in the chaos of protest shocked the world.

The events highlighted just how deep the frustration ran across Thai society—when even those most associated with peace and detachment were compelled to step into the fight.

Is there a U.S. equivalent? Will American Buddhist monks and nuns team up with Benedictines, Franciscans and Dominicans? Will Hindu monastic communities join in?

We have to be our own heros. We have to find our strength, energy, and ability to combat the fuckers who are stealing our country. 

Bitter Crop

I’ve got Billie Holiday and her song Strange Fruit in my head this morning.

Two men were found hanging from trees in Mississippi on Monday. I don’t buy for one skinny-ass minute that either one of them were suicides.

Trey Reed did NOT commit suicide. This happened in Mississippi after all. The state has a well deserved rep.

From 1882 to 1968, 4,743 lynchings occurred in the U.S., according to records maintained by NAACP. Other accounts, including the Equal Justice Initiative's extensive report on lynching,  count slightly different numbers, but it's impossible to know for certain how many lynchings occurred because there was no formal tracking. Many historians believe the true number is underreported.

The highest number of lynchings during that time period occurred in Mississippi, with 581 recorded. Georgia was second with 531, and Texas was third with 493. (source) 

Law enforcement in the US has a nasty habit of under investigating and plastering a suicide label over any Black person found hanging from a tree. You know, lying. Reed's family is having an independent autopsy done. GOOD!

How did Trey end up in that tree? Who put him there?

Who owns the lynching of Trey Reed? His murder has many fathers beyond the barbarians who strung him up. The perps include Trump, Vance, Stephen Miller, Musk, and a bunch of small time, hate mongering, grifter bros looking to build up their audience (AKA bank accounts) on the blown out neck of their now deceased fellow puke puddle. 

These dimbulbed rage hustlers just can’t seem to wrap their one-slice toaster brains around the fact that Kirk was taken out by one of their own. That just doesn’t fit the script they’ve got in there weird-ass, twisted brains.

The other dude who did NOT commit suicide by tree? Corey Zukatis, the homeless man in Vicksburg, Mississippi. His body was found the same day,

Fox chat show asshole Brian Killmeade owns Corey's murder as well as the shootings at TWO Minneapolis homeless encampments.

At least 13 people have been wounded, five critically, in two shootings that erupted over a span of 12 hours at homeless encampments in Minneapolis with the city's mayor saying he wouldn't be surprised if they are connected. (source) 

How did Killmeade spark the festival of violence?

In response to his Fox and Friends co-host Lawrence Jones saying that unhoused people with mental illness should either accept publicly funded programs (those exist? I thought Reagan got rid of all that 40 years ago) or be jailed, Killmeade responded, “Involuntary lethal injection or something. Just kill ’em.” 

Killmeade did manage, too long after the fact, to croak out an I’m sowwy. 

It contained all the right words – his apology wasn’t the usual “I’m sorry if anyone felt offended by my choice of words…” non-apology BUT the pool of gasoline had already spread and he'd badly fumbled the blazing match. The rabid, plague spewing wildebeest of right-wing violence escaped its bag. The acid drooling MAGA xenomorphs are on the streets now. It’s too late Bri-Bri.

I'm really fed up with the U.S, with people in general, with ALL these stupid players. Today I'm gonna escape into English murder mysteries and cartoons. I'll manage to do some exercising too. Probably annoy Cake too. Someone's got to do it.