Showing posts with label The Plague Year. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Plague Year. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 31, 2023

Living in RonaLand

I'm in my second week of the Stations of the COVID.

Week one was pretty miserable until the Paxlovid kicked in, and tolerable - more or less just a bad flu - through the weekend. Yesterday - about four or five days after the last Paxlovid dose - the head congestion got worse. This suggests I'm moving into the "Paxlovid rebound" I've read about.

Frankly, if the symptoms get no worse? I'm fine. It's irritating (for some reason decongestants seem to have no effect on this damn bug) but no more than that.

Other than that I've been faintly...amused is too gentle a word for it; I think "scornful" is closer...at the ridiculous antics of my supposed "fellow Americans" who've been sucking on the FAUX News crack pipe.

First, what the actual fuck is this:


Is this some sort of fucked-up Narnia cosplay? Tubby as Emperor complete with lion wingman and some sort of UH-60 pimp-my-ride? Who could actually think of this tangerine-colored crook like this?

Whatever.

Beyond the usual idiocy, though, it's telling that all the news out of MAGAtLand is about various culture war stuff, but what the hell else do these gomers have to sell their C.H.U.D.s? 

"Tax Cuts for Rich Fucks - Now In Your Face!" "Our Insurance Company Bureaucrat Will Totally Fuck Your Medical Care For Good Profit Reasons, Not Woke Shit Like A Government Bureaucrat Would!" "We Promise - Your Grandpa CAN Eat Nutritious Cat Food...and Like It!"

Take away the grade-school-homo-bullying and Bible-banging and what else do the sonsofbitches have, anyway..? I just wish they'd fuck off and do it somewhere that nice people don't have to see it. Like writing and masturbation.

Speaking of lions, though...here's our own domestic predator:

See the bald spot?

That's where the little goof got his flea treatment. It's NOT supposed to do that. Why he got a bald spot there I have no idea, but it might be stress, because he's on a diet and he haaaates it. He woke me as usual the other day:

Cat: Food!
Me: Keep yer fur on. I’m coming.
C: Food!!!
M: Jesus wept. Okay. Here.
C: Nomnomnom
M: (making coffee)
C: Outside!
M: Ooookay, chief. But be advised - it’s fecking cold out there.
C: Outside!!!
M: (opens door)
C:
M: Gah! Hurry up! It’s freezing-ass cold!
C:
M: Well? Don’t just stand there!
C: Feh. It’s freezing-ass cold. Not going.
M: No, duh? Okay, Imma get coffee.
C: Umm…there wouldn’t happen to be a smackerel more cat food just lying about, would there..?
M: Not for your chonky ass, no.
C:
M:
C: What a hellhole this place has become. Okay. Fine. If anyone calls I’m doing some important butt-licking and can’t be disturbed. Just take a message.
 
Well, that's about all I got for now. Time to go lie down and blow my nose for the gajillionth time. Ugh.

 



Wednesday, January 11, 2023

Treason doth not prosper

So my (vaxxed, boosted, very-careful-about-masking-in-crowds) friend has the 'rona.

Most likely because someone in the group they met with last weekend had "just a sniffle", didn't mask, didn't stay home, and now has succeeded in dosing them and two others in the group (and probably more who will come back hot in the next couple of days).

Which is a reminder, in case the current U.S. House majority, and the previous Administration, aren't vivid enough warnings, of what my old drill sergeant used to tell us; that the success of our mission depended on the competence of the stupidest person in our unit.


In any group, or any nation, success depends on either those people being 1) willing to learn how to be minimally functional, or 2) being safely sidelined so their incompetence is immaterial to the mission, or 3) being shitcanned entirely. 

The sort of people who infected my friend are and are not likely to be either 1 or 2, and we've given up on number 3.

And I have no idea how we can change that short of an extinction-level crisis like the Great Depression, or a global war that either 1) pulls the general public's collective head out of it's collective ass, or 2) makes the douchenozzles like Republicans (in the Thirties) or fascists (in the Forties) so loathsome that even the morons refuse to touch them and confine their moronity to stuff like pro wrestling.

Especially now, now that Republicans ARE fascists and antivaxxers and QANuts, too?

And some forty percent of the public and the mass media refuses to be honest about that or call them what they are, or despise and shun them for it?

I'm kind of worried about how we move on from there.

And speaking of people doing fucked up things...

I didn't write anything on the second anniversary of January Treason

Mostly because that fucking ship has sailed, hit a sunken rock, capsized, caught fire, exploded, and sank.

The traitors are now a majority in one house of Congress. They - the leaders of the betrayal - paid no price for their treason. 

The goon squads that actually did their dirty work ran off afterwards and had to be slowly, imperfectly tracked down (and largely - to the extent they were - only because some of them took videos and posted to Twitter of them doing a criminal fuckin' conspiracy. Stupid people, right..?)

While in Brazil...

...their own home-grown traitors tried the same shit just now.

It's worth noting that in Brasilia hundreds of these gomers left, not rolling their coal or waving their treason flags but in zip-ties and police vans. The Brazilian Supreme Court has issued warrants for several higher-ups, including a police colonel, who were part of the inside job.

This is Brazil, a barely-Second-World nation without the sort of massive police organization that exists here in the U.S., that managed to put the collar on these dirtbags. 

We'll see if they follow through with crushing the head of the Bolsonario snake, as we should have done with the MAGAts on January 7, 2021.

But We the People already look pathetic in that Brazil, with its long and woeful history of dictatorships and coups, has been harder on their present traitors that we have been on ours, on every level from vaccination to drag queens to actual rebellion.

Whether it's as big as treason against the nation or as small as giving other people your fucking disease, I can only say this again:

"If this is not crushed with brutal force we will rue this as the day we made these traitors our masters."

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Acting 1SG Lawes reads the morning formation annoucements

 Comp-ney, Atten-shun!

At ease.

Okay just one thing today, so listen up.

Bretheren. Fellow sinners.

I come to you this morning with a tale of the deepest and weightiest eschatology, a parable of the righteous and the unrighteous, and, also, of Private Black, who stands amongst you like the sheep amongst the goats.

Brother Black...may I call you brother, Private Black? Thenk-yew. Brother Black came to me, when I was indwelling in my studies which is to say I was reviewing the S-4 requests your various platoon sergeants have provided to me and, no, AT Platoon, you are not getting a fucking Reaper drone, not just no but fuck no, so don't even try that shit again. 

And thereupon rousing me from my orisons Brother Black informed me that he had received "direct divine instruction" that he need not perform the extra duty imposed upon him by the Company Commander the previous Wednesday due to a certain incident at the Flaming Mug involving a bottle of Wesson Oil and three Cambodian sisters.

Now my brothers...my heart was troubled by this.

I was cast into the keelson-deep despair by the thought of my brother Black finding that his Lord and Savior found fault with his buffing the dayroom floor to a sort of crystalline perfection that I, too, suddenly found myself in the presence of the Almighty.

"I am but a sinner, oh Lord," I said, "but if Thou shalt enlighten me then I shall be exalted by your wisdom."

"A sinner thou art" The Creator replied, "But not as big a fucking liar as young Mister Black here, who just wants to ditch his extra duty so he and his yobo can go to the pushbutton and get drunk and screw."

"Then what shall I do, oh Lord?" I asked, and the Lord replied; "Fucking smite his young ass as hard as it will bear, and spare not the rod or spoil the private."

So, my brothers, you will see young Private Black communing with the spirits of Johnson Paste Wax and the dayroom floor all the rest of this week, and it is with a full and contrite heart I come to you saying; try. 

Just fucking try. 

That shit on me.  

And thou shalt find thyselves face-down on my desk and I will apply the rod of the UCMJ to your young asses, and in full measure shall you learn wisdom from the smiting. For sayeth the FM: the ears of a private are in his ass, and hearing cometh from a good solid kicking.

I have BEEN to the mountaintop, oh my brothers, and you do NOT want to fuck with me and find out what I found there.

Thus endeth the lesson.

Any questions?

I didn't think so.

Comp-ney, Atten-shun!

Platoon sergeants, take charge.


 

This is why we can't have nice things

 Because here's Lyin' Ted:

Cruz, along with 99.9% of his Republican pals, have been effectively spewing anti-vaxx and anti-epidemologic-precaution nonsense for the two damn years, and this is just one more example.

"Oh, if you're young and healthy there's no danger! It's just a flu! Your mask is cowardice! Open the nation! The 'rona only kills the old, weak, and sick! Freedooooommmmm!"

Now...I'll be the first to say; the CDC director was a fool to say this, because they should know that these gomers will pick up on it and loudly bray all the above and demand we surrender (even more than we have already...).

But what the CDC is saying here was - and note that this quote is deceptive, because the CDC director was speaking of deaths among the fully vaccinated - in effect, that "if you wear your seatbelt properly when you're involved in an accident you would have to be smashed by a fully-loaded heavy haul truck that forces your vehicle off the road, down a 100-foot-high vertical cliff into a flaming nuclear waste repository to be killed in that crash."

That's good news! It means that the vaccines are doing what they're supposed to do. That means we SHOULD be vaccinating everyone and anyone and their cat to make sure we slam the door closed on this virus like we did with the Salk and Sabin vaccines against polio.

Now...I understand that people with all those health problems are not happy about this, the CDC saying, in effect, that they're a lost cause.

But public health is about the public in general. It isn't ever going to be about keeping every swinging richard alive and well. It's reducing the hazard to 99.X% of the public.

Cruz, and every other Republican - including Chief Justice Roberts and the Furious Five, unfortunately - don't care about this. They're effectively on the "side" of the virus, and so long as they are we will continue in the damn Plague Year.

GOP delenda est.

It's really that simple...and that impossibly difficult.


Saturday, September 25, 2021

La BoƮteuse

One week post-op 2, and it's about like you'd expect. I'm tired and achy, my legs hurt, and to make them "not-hurt" in the future I have to make them hurt worse now - my physical therapy involves forcing joints that are a mess of scar tissue and damaged tendons and tendon sheaths to move through that damaged material, which, obviously, they don't want to. 

It's about as much fun as you'd think. Here's a post-exercise icing session to give you an idea.

Anyway, they're coming along. More slowly than I'd like, but not as slowly as possible, so things cold be worse.

So that's what I'm doing; resting, exercising, resting again, reading, watching television. I'm still in the post-op "not feeling well" phase, so my appetite is poor and I'm too shaky to do much cooking, so I'm kind of at the mercy of my Bride ("If you wait long enough they'll just eat cereal...") so the mess hall has been kind of...iffy.

You'd think this would be opportune for binging TV series, and it is. The weird part of that is the only things I've found to binge are a couple of wuxia series (well, one wuxia and one wuxia-adjacent-sorta show). My favorite is something called My Heroic Husband, a 2019 production from the PRC.


It's pure fluff; a romantic comedy set in some sort of generic medieval-Chinese period. Our hero, the husband of the title, gets time-swapped into the body of a "matrilocal" marriage victim - apparently this means that the husband, instead of being properly Confucian and patriarchal, is a sort of trophy-husband to a more socially powerful wife.

Our boy Ning Yi awakes to find that his knowledge of the 20th Century is intact but he's supposed to be an appendage to Su Ta'ner, his cloth-merchant bride. She, in turn, is vying with her male relatives (as well as her male competitors) to make the Su family store the biggest deal in Jiangning.

So the story consists of our hero using his modern business savvy to McGyver his way out of whatever trouble the various rivals try and engineer for the Su clan. Which he always does and in so doing is winning the genuine affection of his wife (who originally agrees to take him on only until she wins the family business).

The two leads have a genuinely sweet and funny chemistry, the plots are goofy and entertaining, and the heroic husband is proving to be a solid lead character.

The story is taking a much more serious turn, though. Suddenly events outside Jiangning are intruding; the state of Wu our heroes inhabit is nervously eyeing events to the north, where one of the other two major powers looks to be conquering the other. When Jing gets done with Liang it seems inevitable that it will look south hungrily, and the last episode involved some sort of tricky political gimmick where rival players at the court of Wu came looking for "tribute cloth" to send to Jing, and it looks like our gang might be tossed into politics like it or not. We'll see.

I'm all in, anyway.

Speaking of politics (and by the way of political/medical stuff...)

One thing this rehab has given me lots of time for is observing the state of our Union, and, frankly, I'm even more depressed than usual. I mean...look at this fucking idiotic thing.

Of all the fucking weapons-grade stupid ideas...the horse paste is a vermicide. COVID-19 is a respiratory pathogen. You can't fucking treat respiratory illness with a medication designed to kill intestinal worms. Period. There's no physically possible means that the one will interact with the other in any meaningful way. It's like treating a bump on the head by applying skin cream to your foot.

But this is where the GQP is now.

What's frankly terrifying is that this has gone beyond just the "own the libs" contrarianism. This is a full on cult. This is impervious to argument, debate, or reason. To paraphrase Voltaire, whoever can make you believe that a horse de-wormer can treat a respiratory pathogen can make you commit fascism.

Look at the reaction to the equally ridiculous Arizona Cyber Ninja scam.

Having proven to be nothing like an actual "audit", this joke took months and millions only to end up with what we knew almost a year ago; that the Maricopa County voting was perfectly legit and reported correctly.

You'd think that, having had about ten "recounts" by now including this nonsense that ended up in the exact same place, that everyone would throw up their hands and say "Well, okay, there it is."

No.

The wingnuts are still roaring about fraud and preparing to steal the election in 2024. The Trumpkins still insist their bloated nitwit won. Even after all the proof. Even after all the facts.

Roughly a third of the U.S. public is not going to be persuadable by any normal means that anything other than a Trump win is possible.

That's...not workable any more than using horse paste to treat COVID.

And I don't see any way to get back to sanity by somehow managing to brain-wipe that rogue 30% short of bloodshed.

Well...shit.

Anyway, I'm going to get back to my exercises and my heroic husband and try not to borrow trouble. 

I have an unpleasant suspicion that trouble will be coming along all by itself.

Sunday, September 05, 2021

I have SO fucking had it with these people

 So there's not a lot I can do with this damn knee. I can't drive, so I'm locked within the distance I can walk. And I can't walk very far, so I'm pretty much under house arrest. And I can't sit up for long without the damn thing swelling up and bitching at me.

So I spend a lot of time sprawled out on the couch or the bed; reading, cruising the 'Net, dozing or sleeping. It's about as fucking mind-bendingly boring as you'd think, so when there is something to do, I'm all about it.

Yesterday (Saturday) evening the Portland Thorns soccer team was scheduled to play the Washington club here at 7:30. I'm still too banjaxed to go in person (and, frankly, even with the club requiring proof of vaccination or a negative COVID test, not all that excited about mobbing up with people...) but I was really looking forward to enjoying a couple of hours of soccer and cheering for my club over the screen in my lap...until I went to the club site and was met with this:

It turns out the the visitors had a teensy-weensy little pathogen problem:

"Spirit have 4 positive COVID cases; multiple sources also tell me that the club has “multiple” unvaccinated players. One source said # as high as 8."

So. Here's the thing.

NWSL teams roster between 22 and 24 players. So assuming the high end number is correct, a third of the roster is unprotected against the Plague at a time when vaccination doses are aging out for a lack of willing arms to receive them.

Think about that.

A business that is a part of a public accommodation industry - an entertainment or hospitality business that is centered around hosting the public - has not required it's employees to meet the most fundamental of public health measures; preventing or slowing the spread of disease when preventive measures are easily available and free. And the employees have refused to voluntarily meet that simple and logical standard.

As a result the other party, the business that has been responsible (the Thorns roster and staff are fully vaccinated) has lost a massive chunk of revenue and has been put at a competitive disadvantage by having to reschedule this game. And thousands of people like me are out their ticket costs.

Which is better, mind you, than having these disease-riddled harridans show up and breathe the Plague all over everyone.

But.

Here's the thing.

I'm sure that these players had all the usual bullshit excuses. Muh freedums! Don't know what's in it! God will protect me! Personal choice!

To which I simply reply:

You're running a public business that relies on public health measures. You're a restaurant, and an inspection finds that a third of your kitchen staff refuses to wash their hands after taking a dump?

You get shut down. Period. No explanations needed, no excuses accepted.

No health inspector would buy your bullshit that God protects you from getting shit in the food. Or that it's your choice. Or "freedom!" means you get to decide whether to follow simple basic public health regulations.

Kitchen closed. Boom.

And yet...because a bunch of lunatic QANuts and Three Percenters and Republicans and antivaxxers have decided to make "I will wash my hands after taking a shit" into a political issue, the rest of us are supposed to humor these fucking ninnies and accept losing our time and money and health and, possibly, our lives.

I lived with a lurking sort of low-grade fear, like the point man in an ambush terrain, for over a year until I could get vaccinated. It's hard to explain just how liberating that two-weeks-past-the-second-Pfizer moment felt. Finally! I had my MRAP. I had my mine plow! I could look forward to a normal life again. Yay, medicine!

Boy howdy, was I fucking wrong.

I'm SO fucking done with these people.

There's lots of other reasons to be done with them, too. But this - this idiotic demand that the rest of us go live in the QAnon Bronze Age with them when there's an actual modern world just over there - this just sends me into a flame of utter rage. Like the Emperor Caligula I can only wish that they all had one neck so I could choke the life out of them and move on with all the other, less easily solvable, problems we should be dealing with.

But no. And here we are.

Tuesday, August 24, 2021

Acting 1SG Lawes reads the morning formation announcements

Comp-ney, Atten-shun!

At ease.

Okay just one thing today, so listen up.

Had a chat with Chief Schrum down at the TMC today. Based on this I understand that there's a hard nut of you GI Joe Real American heroes that have been passing on this Plague vaccination. 

Chief says that y'all got a shit-ton of reasons why y'all ain't gonna get a teeny-weeny little prick and no, Private Black, that is not a personal observation and I see no reason for you to give me that look. You and me, after this formation.

Notregardless, here's the straight dope, gentlemen.

There's a minefield out there.

Now on the one hand, seeing as you know that said minefield is out there but have no way of telling where it is, or how fucked up it is, or whether or when one or more of you might wander into it, you can do it one way. Let's call it...let's see...oh, yeah, let's call it the "Dumb Fucking Way".

You can just bumblefuck around until you get into it.

And once therein you will discover you have fucked around and found out. Some of you will wander out again just fine. 

Some of you won't.

Or.

There's another way. Let's call this one the "Let's Not Just Wander Into The Fucking Minefield" way.

You can accept the issue of things that will give you a better chance in case you find yourselfs in the minefield. Things like this little paper mask thing that makes you look all sexy like the girls in the Candy Striper movie that I found S&T Platoon watching on the dayroom TV again having already reminded you that said TV is in a location accessible to family members including minor dependents and their mommies and no, Specialist Gutierrez, "that's how you make children" is not sufficient justification for the three days of phone calls I got after that particular incident thankyewverymuch.

You can get the vaccination which is kind of like those big ol' EOD suits that keep you from being blown into small independent republics if the mine does go off.

These fucking things are there not just to help you but to help the people around you who can't use them, like little kiddos and your aged granny who's on chemo for the third time because she's hooked on Swisher Sweets.

And here's the thing.

Knowing all this, if you refuse to take advantage of all these useful items and get stuck in the minefield, hopefully it will not surprise you if those of the rest of us who have are a trifle unsympathetic to your ass. 

"Freedom", gentlemen, is not "license". "Freedom" is a combination of rights and responsibilities that we as citizens agree to in order to form a more perfect fucking union.

You do not have the freedom to go prancing out into the minefield and bring back a mine to the mess hall which reminds me to discuss that stuff you had the utter gall enough to describe as "vegetarian lasagne", Mess Section, at some point between now and dinner chow.

So quit dicking around, people. Get the goddamn shot.

Because ain't nobody here going into the minefield after you if you don't.

Any questions?

I didn't think so.

Comp-ney, Atten-shun!

Platoon sergeants, take charge.

Saturday, July 17, 2021

The Plague House

 Charlie Pierce hands his joint over to an ER doc in the middle west who tells us of how the modern peasantry is dealing with the infection of the modern Great Plague:

"Had several people come in with symptoms or just to be tested. Mostly younger than 40. Of course zero vaccinations, and when I asked why, I don’t get the “cause the internet, cause screw the libs, I think it’s dangerous” excuses. I don’t get any excuses at all. They just shrug their shoulders and say they didn’t need it. It’s just part of their psyche now. Sun rises in the east, Jesus will return to judge the quick and the dead, you just don’t get vaccinated."

Now. I get that these people didn't come up with this weapons-grade stupid all by their ownselves. Every talking head they listen to, from fucking Trump all the way down to skeevy broadcast pimps like Tucker Carlson, is filling their fat heads with this "you just don't get vaccinated" nonsense.

But I'm a right bastard and a member of the polio-and-smallpox generations. You have a pathogen? You get fucking vaccinated. Not for yourself alone, but because you live in a society, in a community, in a nation, and you owe all of them a duty not to be a completely selfish asshole.

So I am utterly done with these people. I have no pity. I have no mercy left in me. Having - as a 63-year-old at high risk of bad outcomes if infected - lived for a year under the shadow of this damn plague I am perfectly fine condemning them to death now that there is a light that lifts that shadow and these ignorant people refuse to step out into it.

They want to respond to a plague like 15th Century peasants? 

Fine. They get 15th Century "treatment", then.

Put them on the death cart back to whatever shit-hovel they inhabit. Toss them inside. Nail the doors and windows shut and mark them with the red cross of Infection. Post the guards to shoot them if they try to emerge or shoot anyone who tries to free them.

And then let the disease take them.

Whoever remains alive in the month after the infection has run its course?

May be allowed to creep out into the daylight again to be reviled and cursed as the dangerous fools they are.

Damn these people, and damn the political party that is fostering them.

Tuesday, June 22, 2021

Another mystery

The new book Nightmare Scenario limns a gruesome picture of the ambition, distraction, uglification, and derision inside a Trump administration confronted with a pandemic microbe several orders of magnitude better organized and more intelligent:

“One of the biggest flaws in the Trump administration’s response is that no one was in charge of the response,” Abutaleb and Paletta write. “Was it Birx, the task force coordinator? Was it Pence, head of the task force? Was it Trump, the boss? Was it Kushner, running the shadow task force until he wasn’t? Was it Marc Short or Mark Meadows, often at odds, rarely in sync?”

“Ultimately, there was no accountability, and the response was rudderless,” they conclude.

So...wait. We needed a whole book to tell us this?

The choice was to throw in a picture of Trump, or a picture of one of the Scoobies, and, duh, Velma is both way smarter and way-smokin'-hotter, so...

For fuck's sake. This bloated nincompoop pranced around on live television suggesting that the solution to an epidemic pathogen was bleach, shoving lights up your ass, and malaria drugs while ignoring every single piece of public health knowledge about epidemic pathogens developed since the fucking Plague of Athens.

Everyone outside the bubbling MAGAt kool-ade vat knows that the simple stooge couldn't have figured out what he was supposed to do, and if he was told to sit down, shut up, and follow his epidemiologists' instructions how to do it would have just dipped some crap out of his diaper and thrown it at them like the shit-flinging toddler he is.

This is the least-difficult mystery that Scoobies ever solved. Trump did it, regardless of where the bug came from or how or why. He was told that a deadly pathogen was coming - by the damn Chinese premier, forgawdssake, so it wasn't like the guy didn't know what he was talking about - and he was too shit-scared that his rating would tank to actually do what the South Koreans did.

The problem here doesn't seem to be that there's no way to tell how these things happened or who was responsible. Instead it's more magical thinking; I don't WANT it to be that way, so I won't believe it.

Speaking of the whole "where it came from",question related to this magical thinking is the whole "Wuhan lab leak COVID genesis" thing.

Frankly, it isn't something I'm particularly spun up about. We know that biolabs have killed people before...but so have - a lot more often - zoonotic pathogens. The chance that this is an intentional PRC bioweapon are vanishingly slim. For one thing, you develop the vaccine FIRST, so you don't end up killing shitloads of your own troops (Unit 731 is holding on Line 2...) with your own pathogen. For another, a bioweapon that kills old, sick people and is usually ineffective against healthy young ones? Not much of a weapon.

No. The probability is that this is just another in the long line of zoonotic South Asian pathogens in the great SARS/MERS/seasonal flu tradition.

But. Even if it's not, even if this is something that was cooked up by the tricksy Chinamen, that doesn't tell the story the MAGAts want it to.

Because a lab leak doesn't mean we get to sling a nuke at the PRC. Or even fight one of those good and easy-to-win trade wars against them.

For because the world is bound with strands of aircraft aluminum and kerosene aviation fuel it means that it's in our interests to ensure that we 1) know as much as possible about what's going on in Chinese biolabs, and 2) ensure that those labs are as well-designed, well-equipped, well-trained, and well- managed as possible. It means more, closer engagement with the loathsome government of the PRC, not less.

Well...dammit.

When it comes down to cases, I think we're seeing here the functional end of what happens when humans are confronted with difficult, complex, frightening things, especially when the hardscape around those things point towards conclusions those humans dread and fear.

If working through that country forces you to agree to and believe things that you hate with all your heart...it will make you happier not to believe them. If you can settle on a simple, clear answer - even a simple, clear wrong answer - that backs up your hopes and beliefs?

You'll go with that.

Problem?

Climates and pathogens and armed men don't care what you want to believe. If you get them wrong they'll kill you and all yours deader'n shit.

Governing yourself by whatever stupid thing you want to believe?

That's a real good way to make that happen.

Thursday, March 25, 2021

Just as I was about to step off into the minefield...

 ...looks like I might be getting a mine-plow;

Here's the sad part.

This was a mistake on the part of the Oregon Health Authority.

Despite my age, and my position as the Designated Geezer in a house with two kids in public school, I was not "eligible" per the Oregon vaccination schedule to get my Anti-COVID Armor until late-mid-April. Despite a fair sized chunk of the Oregon public, like the rest of the country, being unwilling to even GET this goddamn shot. Despite the simple epidemiological reality that the single best way to beat this bug is to get as many needles in as many arms as fast as possible...I should have been shit out of luck.

But.

The OHA has, at least, been willing to honor it's fuckup and not shot-block those of us who jumped on the chance to schedule this thing.

So...

Sunday, March 07, 2021

Into the minefield, ready or not

 Ah, yes…vaccination.

Y’know, I’m absolutely pleased that my son can have at least some of his senior year back at Roosevelt.

I’m excited that my daughter can see her freshman friends again.

I’m very, very glad that my wife working as the school secretary at Astor Elementary is fully vaccinated against the return of students.

So it’s difficult to express how absolutely, completely, incandescently furious I am that within a month these three will be returning home from interacting with who knows how many COVID-infected randos and bringing who knows how massive a viral load to me, who at 63 is NOT vaccinated and, more to the point, cannot GET vaccinated in time to escape the path through this fucking plague pit because my state government apparently considers me expendable if it means getting the schools open.

At least when I was a GI the Army got me a yellow fever shot before sending me out into the mosquito-infested cuna grass.

I checked everywhere. Under 65? Nope. "Multigenerational household"? Nope. There's just no route for me to get protected from this goddamn disaster. I just have to hope like hell my family doesn't bring home a round for the revolver as we begin to play "COVID Roulette" or dance to "The NoPo Minefield Tango"

I don’t expect anyone in the state government to do anything to help me protect myself, since they obviously knew this would happen when they reopened the schools in March rather than next fall and decided in a very Trumpy way that satisfying the people who have been grousing about online teaching (which DOES suck, I get that...) was worth people like me “taking the (fucking) punch”.

But it doesn’t make me any less furious at the whole pack of sonsofbitches that after nearly a year of me being extra careful and doing all the right public health things I was asked to do that this fucking COVID crapshoot is their gift to me.

Sorry. I’m more than a bit irked with my supposed “leaders” at the moment.

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

Dancing into the minefield


 Half a million.

500,000.

More Americans dead from COVID-19 than were killed in combat in the three worst wars the nation fought in the 20th Century.

What's the most appalling part of this is how utterly, completely, shockingly pointless all these deaths were. How much we could have done to prevent them, compared to how little we actually did.

The commonsense response to a potentially lethal pathogen is almost childishly simple. Protect yourself. Protect those around you. Don't do stupid things. 

It's really that simple.

If you see the minefield and you don't have to go into the minefield, don't fucking go into the fucking minefield. 

There's no reason we had to kill all those people. Some will have died no matter what we did. But we could have saved probably hundreds of thousands had we followed the simple public health precautions we knew we should have and other polities like Japan and South Korea did.

But instead here we are, with an unconscionably large portion of the U.S. public convinced by their idiotic civic religion that those precautions are some sort of jackbooted oppression. Another, possibly overlapping, portion is going to refuse to be vaccinated. 

I honestly don't know what to say about this other than what the fuck is wrong with you people?


Friday, January 01, 2021

That time when I was brilliant sooner than Paul Krugman

 Krugman has a tweet up talking about Trumpy Bear and the Plague Year:

"A couple of takeaways from this shocking-but-not-surprising description of Trump's refusal to deal with the pandemic. First, character does matter: he's a terrible president in part because he's a horrible person.

Second, his self-absorption was self-destructive: politicians who took the virus seriously were rewarded even when they weren't that successful."

He's right, of course. The nightmare we're living through - those of us who WILL live through it, and damn near half a million may not, when it's all done with us - is entirely the creation of fucking Tubby and the idiot fucking Republican cult. Those places where the people and the leadership did the things that simple public health suggested would limit the losses due to a pandemic disease are doing fine. 

We're an utter shitshow.

So I just wanted to remind those here that I was on this waaaaay back in April:

"And here's the really infuriating part.

It SO didn't have to be this way.

What's most appalling is that in this horrific disease Donald Trump and his GOP pals were effectively gifted the chance to be fucking heroes.

I mean that sincerely. They could have gone down in American history with the pantheon of men...who have saved the Republic. Washington. Lincoln. FDR.

All Trump had to do was what any sane, decent person would have done. Shut his piehole. Listened to people who knew better. Taken their advice to act quickly and competently. Spoken the words of comfort and care. Acted as Lincoln did in 1861 and FDR did in 1941. Mobilized the nation. Produced the tests, provided the ventilators, coordinated the response.

I know I keep saying this, but this was a fucking no-brainer. We've done this before, only it was Japanese, not viruses; we kick the federal money machine into action, start paying people to stay home instead of build bombers, businesses to stay shut instead of make tanks and helmets.

Freeze the nation in place until treatment, and then vaccine, came on-line.

That's it.

That's ALL.

He does that, and he's flying up there with the Greats. Twenty years after his enormous orange ass gets kicked into the hole his meatface is up there on Rushmore right next to Teddy.

But this goddamn fuckstick and his worthless fucking GOP pals couldn't do that to save their (and our) lives.

HE couldn't do it because he's a fucking rodent, and all his pizza-rat brain can manage is his own cravings; his craving for money, for power, to sate his ginormous ego.

THEY couldn't do it because they're fucking slaves, slaves to their bloated ideology where it's a Hobbesean war of all against all, where cash is king, C.R.E.A.M., baby, and it's all about punishing the darks and the bitches and the libs. They could no more act heroically than a dog could resist licking its ass.

That's just...sad.

Here these sorry bastards like to fap to their image of themselves as the latter-day Three Percent, the heroic fighting rebels who would be the first to jump to pledge their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor to the nation in time of trial.

And yet...when the trial arrived, all they could do was snivel, whine, try and grift the pandemic, punish the libs, and then celebrate by dipping their balls in the chocolate to enjoy the creamy texture.

And so here we are, ruled by the very worst among us, without any hope for reprieve."

I'm a fairly smart person, but it's not often that I'm that far ahead of the punditorial power curve, and I wanted to shake my moneymaker briefly to note that in this case I sure as hell was.

And don't mistake me; there's a shit-ton of others outside of Orange Foolius who bite off a piece of this clusterfuck.

The entire government of the PRC, that knew they had a deadly pathogen loose in Wuhan but tried to hide and dissemble about it.

Every knucklehead who had to have their wedding or barbeque or beach party regardless of the risk.

But for us here in the US, it was the goddamn brick-brained Chief Executive who:

1) Knew this was going to be bad way the hell back in the winter of 2020 because Xi himself told him so, but

2) Lied about it and either did nothing or actively worked to ensure the spread would get out of control, and

3) Could have done the exact opposite, but didn't, even though doing the exact opposite was so blatantly the obvious route to heroic re-election that it was blindingly obvious to an elderly blogger in Portland Fucking Oregon way the hell back in the early spring.

Not that it really helps you, me, or anyone else, that I was righter than Cassandra and Krugman and Trump altogether. 

We all know what Cassandra got for her troubles.

So, yeah.

Welcome to 2021

Freshly fresh and newly new

 

I've seen sixty-three of the sonsofbitches, but the Year 2020 was, hands-down, the fucking worst of them all.

Mind you, 1968 and 1969 were pretty bad, but then I was 11 and 12 then and too small to really understand how bad things got. 

In the early Seventies we had another dangerously worthless Republican shitbird in the Oval Office, but the wingnut horde was smaller and less nutty and the news outfits less stenographic of Republican lies, so I could remain confident that said dirtbag would be defenestrated, and so he was.

But this one? Yeesh. Good riddance.

One thing that hasn't changed from yesterday to today is my broad outlook as a sort of "optipess".

On the personal and professional side I and mine are doing fine. A little ragged around the edges from hunkering down under the Plague, but otherwise unharmed, and looking hopefully to the deployment of vaccines and some sort of renewal of something approaching a normal life.

On the larger and general side...well, we're soooooo fucked. 

We - as in "the global industrial North" we - are doing...well, not "nothing" but more-or-less "effectively nothing" to prevent the recurrence of the Paleocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum, and while I'd like to thank the fucking wingnuts for that (and they ARE a huge part of the problem) we the human race in general is turning out to be really, really bad at dealing with massively complex global problems. It's almost like we're a pack of over-armed, over-powered apes that have not truly evolved beyond out proto-hominid beginnings. 

Hmmm. 

And on the next level down we - the "We, the People" United States we - have turned out to be a sort of monkeyhouse divided into roughly three tribes of monkeys.

One-third more-or-less sane dwellers of the 21st Century;

One-third a useless lump of fucking ambulatory protoplasm wasting precious oxygen, and;

One-third utterly whack, bellicose, credulous, gormless, meeching, nitwitted feral apes.

That's not really a good thing.

And I have no idea what I can do as an individual to change either of the above. 

Well, I do - I can't. Not as an individual.

I have literally no "influence" even on the tiniest of local scales. Perhaps I can get more involved in local politics, for what that might accomplish. But I'm disheartened by my fellow Portlanders choices this past November. Given a simple, clear-cut choice between a piss-poor past and a chance at future change, a strong plurality of us said "Yes, more piss-poor, please!"

That's...not good. That's...I'm not sure how you move forward from there. We had good people pushing for good things, intelligent, progressive, hopeful ideas. And the People of Portland shot them down. How do I change that?

Well. Damn.

But - and this is the "opti-" part - there's always bad things. The very first thing I saw this new year, other than the dark house and the hopeful coffee, was turning on the television and finding the 1992 flick Body of Evidence on the cable, as if to prove that bad things have happened in Portland all the time.

 (That's Willem Dafoe walking through Lone Fir Cemetery, by the way. It was the most Portlandy image from this dog I could find on the Internet, most of which was Madonna, perhaps the least Portlandy thing about this dog...)

We got through Body of Evidence. 

Perhaps we'll get through this.

Right now, though, what's sort of emblematic is that it doesn't really feel like a "new" year because, like a a bloated orange colossus, Trump still bestrides the narrow world, Twitter whining and bragging, being an asshole, and golfing. We still have three weeks of the fucking idiot and his braindead minions.

It's just a question of survival until then. 

God, I hope so.

Then, perhaps, it'll really feel like a New Year.

Addendum - "But for Wales?"

I won't make a secret out of the fact that I think the idea of taking random eighteen-year-olds and running them through a second-rate engineering school where everybody wears the same clothes in order to produce Army officers is not a particularly good idea.

Far too many kaydets come out imbued with Duty-Honor-Country and very little else of military value. Which is not to say that good soldiers can't come out of West Point. They do, and have. 

But of the officers I served under the very best did not come out of WooPoo, and the very worst did, so that is a small unflattering sample of the place.

But.

If you're going to have an Army officer college, and you're going to make a big fat hairy deal about it as some sort of knightly training school where a brutal and bloody profession is somehow idealized into a noble calling that requires constant harping on some sort of "Code of Honor" as part of that training.

If you're then going to break that honor code for a very prosaic, very grubby outbreak of academic cheating?

You'd impress me a hell of a lot more if all that grubby cheating was for a higher purpose than playing and losing in the...(checks notes)...fucking "Liberty Bowl".

As my old drill sergeant told me once; if you're not cheating you're not trying, but if you cheat and fail?

That's sadder than both the failure AND the cheating themselves.

Welcome to 2021.

Sunday, December 06, 2020

Petard

 So you might recall that over the summer we here in Portland were In Flames!!!

The antifa hordes were rampaging through our streets, the dead were rising from their graves, dogs and cats were living together, and only the Thin Blue Line of Portland Police Bureau was holding us back from being - even though we were, mind you, the President hissown self said so! - an "anarchist jurisdiction".

But...remember back in June? 

When I asked you whether we would face the brutally obvious reality that "policing" in the United States fucks with and kills poor and dark and mentally disturbed people at a ridiculously inflated rate? What we would do if no amount of "reform" had changed or would change that? What we would do now, after decades of useless wanking had left us with a Police Bureau that is a sort of Proud Boys Local #432 only all with blue clothing?

And I answered my own question with:

"I know for a fact that Portland Police Bureau has been the home for wannabe Klansmen and Nazis for decades...I knew perfectly well (that this) was so baked into PPB that the only way to "do something" would be to do a Saddam's Army on the whole outfit - just fire 99% of the sonsofbitches, burn the bastard to the ground, and start over?

Will we do anything about those problems now?

Don't make me laugh. You know better and so do I. We'll throw clubs and gas and "non-lethal" rounds at whoever makes a fuss. Christ on a crutch, we can't even do anything semi-intelligent about a fucking Plague, you think we're going to do anything sane about this, the miserable way we've treated our poor and our former slaves and current subjects, and everyone else who can't play the "get out of jail free" card?

Nope. I got nothin' for you on that."

And, as surely as the sun still rises, we - we here in "anarchist jurisdiction" Portland did...

Nothing.

Instead we re-elected the empty-suit-cop-fluffing incumbent mayor instead of his lefty challenger who promised to take the fucking cops by the stacking swivel. A large part of that was because us commies, once again, managed to form up the circular firing squad - another local activist, Tessa Raiford, ran a very organized write-in campaign that siphoned off about 13 percent of the vote, all from the Left - and shot ourselves dead square in the ass because it was in a race that the OTHER lefty candidate, Iannarone, lost 40 to 46 percent.

Do the math.

Fuck. We're our own worst goddamn enemies.

So the end result of all that protesting and voting and clamor for justice is that we're stuck with the same bunch of useless bastards that sat around with their collective thumbs up their collective asses while the Portland coppers went all kinetic on the BLM protestors.

Surely as the sun rises even the hardest-core street radical can see the brutal facts in front of her, so the protests drizzled away with the autumn rains.

The summer of BLM is over and the fucking cops won.

The usual suspects - the rich white people in the West Hills and the Portland Business Alliance - voted for the empty suit in droves, terrified of the propaganda spewed by the Thin Blue Line of Bullshit and the idiot news stations. 

The same idiots are fulminating about our homeless explosion - imagine, people are losing their squats in a Plague that is killing businesses and low-wage jobs! Whoodathunkit? - and want the empty suit and his cronies to "do something"...as if anyone can "do something" without a massive infusion of tax dollars and social and actual engineering - build cheap goddamn houses, you fools! - that the richie riches and the PBA will never accept or agree to.

Which will just mean more "homeless sweeps" where the coppers kick the hoboes out of wherever they are. They will just rise and scatter like a flock of scruffy starlings to land in someone else's tree until the sweeps come through again. It's the homeless version of the whack-a-muj that worked soooo well in Southwest Asia only with fewer command-detonated mines.

Nobody is willing to think their way out of this, largely because the actual stuff that works is difficult and expensive and time-consuming and even here in Portland we're Americans, by God, and we don't do difficult and expensive and time-consuming. Fuck that noise, we're cowboys and we think with our six-shooter. 

Meanwhile we're marinating in the Plague just like the rest of you, and our wingnuts are as wingnutty as the ones all over the country, squawking and clucking about freeedummmmm!!! while the 'rona tickles their nostrils and they strut around with their festering uncovered meatfaces belching their disease all over the rest of us. The dumb fuckers have invited Mister Grenade to the party while the rest of us try to just stay in cover long enough to duck their goddamn shrapnel until the vaccines arrive.

I'm just tired.

I'm tired of the Plague. I'm tired of missing my old life; my friends and my little joys and my city, tired of being worried and afraid and nervous as a cat around crowds, wondering which one is the fucking numbnuts is that's walking around shedding the virus like rain.

And I'm really tired of this country, which has such a bright and shining promise, which has the potential to be so good and great and one but instead is dominated by the selfish, the small, the weak, the stupid, and the willfully ignorant.

I'm tired of trying to be decent and intelligent and thoughtful and careful and judicious only to look across the way at a bunch of four-year-olds squalling in a tantrum triggered by belief in utter nonsense so transparently obvious delusional foolishnessthat even  a poop-flinging monkey would sneer.

And I have no good and happy answer to how to change all that except the answer of any siege; watch and wait and keep my head down and kill the traitorous bastards trying to open the postern and try and ensure that the other sonsofbitches don't get over the wall all the while knowing that it's usually us who get blown up by our own goddamn petard.



Sunday, November 15, 2020

The Long Kiss Good Morning


One of my "additional duties" here at the little house that is the Fire Direction Center is Assistant S-4 (Class I resupply) along with Mess Sergeant. 

As such every weekend I do the marketing.

This morning I went to the ####### - I'll leave the name of the grocery off so as to preserve the anonymity of the person in the picture above - and there she was, looking drop-dead gorgeous in her "grocery outfit" complete with killer heels, skinny jeans, shirred-silk blouse, and pearls.

She was visibly a cut above the rest of us hoi-polloi in our scruffy jeans (or worse, pajama bottoms - I still don't get how you think it's okay to go out in public in pajamas. Seriously?) and go caps and the other shabby, bulky, utilitarian cold weather clothing that explodes across the Portland basin in late autumn.

When I came upon her, though, she was crossly surveying the desolate shelf-spaces in the "toilet paper" section. The COVID re-lockdown orders coming tomorrow in both Oregon and Washington states seem to have brought out the usual "OMFG-I'm going-to-be-wiping-my-ass-with-fallen-leaves!!!" nitwits who have begin hoarding the bog roll again. The woman was not happy.

So as seemingly out-of-place madam's outfit was, I totally get the fuck-me pumps - not so much a statement as a weapon. 

When you come limping up to the checkout it's because the one that was on your bare foot is buried in the heart of that fucking Charmin-hogging bitch lying back there in Aisle Eight.


 Here's your Plague Year writ small, small as a scroll made from quilted Northern; two shoppers enter. One shopper leaves.

Wednesday, November 04, 2020

220 Million Used-car Salesmen

 I have no idea what to say after yesterday. Confronted between the choice of a bland corporate technocrat who would put in place the sort of commonsense public health measures that have tamped down a pandemic disease in places as far apart as Germany and South Korea, and a raging, thieving, lying dumpster fire of a hominid whose insane incompetence has helped kill a quarter of a million of their fellow citizens, nearly half of the U.S. public screamed "FUCK YES!!! I WANT MORE PLAGUE!!!"

I don't care how much you love your guns, or your God, or your tax cuts.

It's the fucking Plague!

Half the goddamn US public can't vote to escape the fucking 14th Century.

Jesus wept.

Actually...I do have this to say; look at this, from last night's Oregonian:

 


This is "Jo Rae Perkins":

I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you're not sunk ass-deep in the wingnut fever swamp, so you won't recognize the little sticker she's holding. 

It's a QAnon thing; "Where we go one, we go all".

Yep. Perkins is a QANut. A drooling, gibbering looney who has no business being let off Monkey Island, much less into the U.S.Senate. And yet...

Oregon is listed by Teh Google as containing about 4.2 million people.

As of this morning a total of 2,125,047 had voted in this race.

That 's about 50.6% of the people in Oregon.  Let's assume that about a quarter are underage, or otherwise unable to vote legally. That brings the total up to about two-thirds, 67%. Repectable, but, still...in the most consequential election in our generation a third of the supposed "citizens" couldn't be arsed to request, or complete, a paper ballot.

And of the group that did, about 835,000 voted for this loon. That's roughly 26% of the vote.

And - as we've discussed here before - that's the Crazification Modulus. That was the "approval" percentage Dick Cheney was riding in 2008, after eight years of nonstop lies, bullshit, and fuckery.

That's what this loon got twelve years later.

 I don't care how much you love your guns, or your God, or your tax cuts.

This nitwit has no more business in the U.S. Senate that she does being the Dragon Queen of Bhutan. And if you think she does, YOU have no business being allowed to handle firearms, operate a motor vehicle, or vote in a democratic republic. 

You're demonstrably completely fucking unfit to associate with actual humans.

And these hominids are a quarter of the U.S. public and half the nutbag of hammers who voted for MOAR PLAGUE!

As we used to say back in the dark days of the Iraq War, back at the old Intel Dump:

We are so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, SO, SO FUCKED!!!

Tuesday, November 03, 2020

Blood Red Dawn

 

The dawn of Election Day, 2020, was appropriately colored.

I can think of only two elections in U.S. history as consequential as this one; 1860 and 1932.

In both of the earlier elections the public had stark choices.

In 1860 it was slavery or war. A vote for Breckenridge, or a vote for Lincoln, were equally votes for the war that even then many, if not most, Americans must have known would come of those votes. As Lincoln himself put it; "Both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came."

In 1932 it was plutocracy or...something else. A vote for Hoover was a vote for the Gilded Age status quo that had impoverished the nation. A vote for FDR was a vote for some new thing, the "New Deal", that promised to change that. The background to that election were the dire warnings from Europe; the communist and fascist revolutions of the Twenties, and the growing power of Naziism of the Thirties.

In 2020 it's just as binary. A vote for a Republican - any Republican - is a vote to end the promises written into the Constitution by the amendments of 1868 and a return to the original of 1789, an end to the pretense of "equal justice under law". It's a vote for Making America A White Oligarchy Again, a return to Gilded Age economics and pre-Twentieth Century social rules.

A vote for a Democrat - and let's not kid ourselves about silly emo "protest" votes (or NOT voting); the First-Past-The-Post U.S. electoral system means that there's always going to be two large parties. Your only choices are which party, and what you can make that party into - is a vote to try and continue to move away from those things towards a country that tries to make good its promises to all its people.

Here's the thing.

A Republican win today will mean absolutely nothing harmful to me, personally.

I'm an old fairly well-off cis/het white guy. By my demographic I should be a raging red MAGAt. I'll be dead long before the bill for the idiocy the GOP is locked into regarding climate change comes due. I might lose a slug or so in the tax-hate the "no-new-taxes" morons have for blue Oregon's recognition that without the damn taxes you don't have roads or schools outside the gated communities. I'm not going to miss a meal or a buck because my country is governed by a pack of nitwits who want to repeal the entire 20th Century.

The Plague might kill me - they're going to completely screw the pooch on that - but otherwise?

I'm MAGAt-proof.

No, the fury I feel is purely for the fact that the GOP enthusiasm for returning us to 1822 is over such petty, worthless, insignificant, idiotic "causes".

Seriously, people?

Abortion? Drag Queen Story Hour? Owing fifteen Armalite knock-offs? Paying taxes? Having to not call people childish names, sit down, shut up, and listen to people who actually know what they're talking about?

The reality is that the GOP's primary objective is fluffing rich people. You'll note that the actual "accomplishments" of Trump's administration have been a massive tax cut for the wealthy and a fanatic drive to eliminate any and all restriction on wealthy people's businesses to dump their shit in the public air and water, fuck up perfectly good land, and screw over customers without risk of punishment.

Everything else has just been pure assholeism; punching down on poor people, immigrants, anyone duskier than printer paper, lefties, and anyone to the left of Pinochet or religiously less fundie than Falwell.

It's not that I'm angry about losing. I'm angry about who I'm losing to; these fucking nitwits who vote Republican for these worthless things that the GOP tosses them so they can get the plutocracy that's their real endstate.

It's like being run over by a truckload of fatheads because they're desperate to snare cheap plastic Happy Meal toys.

It profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world.

But for Wales?

I'll meet you again on the other side.


Saturday, August 22, 2020

The Prisoner's Dilemma

 Until now Ael and I have been largely disagreeing in the comments. But our disagreement is so fundamental to the issues we're looking at now - and, particularly, looking at in the light of the coming U.S. election - that I think it's worth taking a post to discuss them.

Portrait of the Artist Losing His Dainty Freshness, John Day, Oregon, 8/18/20
 

Ael summed up his salient point well in this comment on the "Election Eve" thread:

"...a return to Obama style "Hope and Change rhetoric and fuck all else" won't cut it.
There is rising anti-elitist anti-corporate sentiment in the land.
If a populist insurgency fails in the Democratic party, I am afraid of what it might become in the GOP."

 So, first; let me say that I couldn't agree more with his fundamental premise; that the social, economic, and political "playing field" in the current United States is viciously, irremediably skewed against anyone not in a two-yacht family.

The brutal fact is that we are effectively an oligarchy, or a plutocracy, if you will. The "people" - the mass of the citizens - do not, in fact, rule either in and by themselves, or through their elected representatives.

Things that the vast majority of the citizens of this nation like and want to be the things that shape their lives; equal opportunity, freedom from the terror of sudden illness or unemployment rendering them helpless, homeless, and hopeless...a more equitable society, in short...are always put aside in favor of the things that the wealthy citizens of the nation want and like.

The problem is that, right now, there's no way past or through or around that.

First, because the first-past-the-post electoral system always produces two large parties. Unless one of them is dying, as the Whigs did before the Civil War, a third (or more) parties simply splits the vote of that side of the political spectrum and allows the "other side" to win.

Second. because our electoral system is drowned, drenched, soaked in money. You cannot get elected in the U.S. without insanely huge amounts of money.

Which means that either you have to be insanely rich, or you have to court the insanely rich...or you have to mobilize literally millions of un-rich people to pay you and keep paying you.

The result?

The rich have access to political power in a way that everyone else does not.

That's why American politics never bothers to debate the value of tax cuts but has a conniption at the thought of using taxes to reduce inequity.

And that's baked in to the American political system.

Remember these guys?

None of them were poor. None of them were landless. None of them were Black or Asian or Latino or born to the tribes that had lived here before the Vikings (and, obviously, none were women).

They set the system up to over-represent rich white guys. And it's worked well that way ever since.

The story of this nation, the promise of the nation, was that although when they wrote that "all men are created equal" they didn't expect those other men - and women - to take them at their words. And that American history has been a long, hard, fight to make those lofty words reality for those "others".

For much of it's history, though, the United States has been what it is now; an open oligarchy.

Three periods were largely responsible to making some changes in that - the "Progressive" era, from roughly the turn of the 20th Century until the First World War, the New Deal era, from 1932 until the Second World War, and the Civil Rights era, from the 1950s to about 1980.

Right now we're embedded in a Second Gilded Age. The first one was disrupted - not ended, exactly, but broken up and forced to admit some of those "other" people - by the Progressives and the New Dealers. Those left outside by those movements - that is, non-white Americans - had to fight again in the second half of the Twentieth Century to try and gain some of that admission.

But the Empire struck back with the election of Reagan, and the country has been sliding back into economic and political feudalism ever since.

The coalition that frustrated the plutocrats in the first two eras - muckraking journalists, true Leftists - socialists and communists - and labor unions, and noblesse oblige aristos like the Roosevelts - is as gone as the Gibson Girl and the I.W.W.

Instead we're left with a dire dichotomy

The result of the hard graft of the wealthy to own one of the two parties has resulted in a GOP that is, frankly, irredeemable. Just lost. Gone. Entirely given over to everything from embryonic fascism to crony capitalism to really lunatic gabba-gooberosity, stuff like QAnon.

But the other big party is still largely in thrall to it's wealthy donors, and to the fear that if they move to hard to the left they will face the wrath of the now-massively-overpowered financial businesses, big banks, and corporate power.

And, frankly, the problem is that to dismantle the resurrected Gilded Age would, indeed, require what amounts to a revolution.

And that's not a metaphor. It would be, in fact, an economic and social (and political) overturn of the status quo.

Wealth would have to be massively taxed. Capital flight - the ability of large corporate organizations to move their wealth out of the U.S. - would have to first be viciously crushed and then policed with a savage intensity. Financial crimes would have to be investigated and punished with the dispatch and ruthlessness we now use on selling weed or sticking up gas stations. Prisons would have to bulge with banksters and grifters and other financial fraudsters.

In other words, the American public would have to start seeing the wealthy and "business" the way they now see government; as a large, unaccountable, dangerous threat.

And this would have to be done by a million tiny uprisings, tens of thousands of pamphlates, YouTube video after YouTube video, in classrooms and townhalls and community groups. The danger, frankly, is that a "populist" uprising is a fantastic risk of becoming either a dictatorship of the proletariat or a Man on Horseback. There's a reason that the French Revolution produced Napoleon and the Russian, Lenin.

The optimist in me wants to believe that there's a way this can be done. That there's a genuine way for the American people to reclaim those high-flown words written back at the close of the 18th Century.

The realist in me looks around and sees nothing but ignorant armies clashing by night. I don't see the American public as capable of that sort of patient, remorseless, brutally focused action, or as willing to make the sort of sacrifices that action would demand.

And, thus, I'm reminded again why I don't want to write about American politics. The way to political hell is already before us, broad and smooth; a descent into madness on the Right, a timidity and fear of violent revolt on the Left.

The way up is hard and narrow, and requires not simply one person but millions to be willing to walk it, to be willing to work and fight and suffer and, yes, perhaps, die, in that journey.

That's an immense ask.

And I'm not sure - not just if the American people are willing to answer, but - whether I even want to ask if of them for my dread that my worst fears will be horribly confirmed.

For me?

I'll fight.

That's what as a citizen I have to do.

But I fight without much hope.

Wednesday, August 12, 2020

And speaking of election eve...

 ...here's the latest lunatic GOP goober who will soon be in position to inflict her looney gooberosity on the rest of us to the extent she can.

This isn't an accident or coincidence or happenstance. This IS the Republican Party. This is where these lunatics have been going since Reagan - as Charlie Pierce likes to say - fed them the monkey brains full of trickle-down and welfare queens and government is the problem prion disease. Trump is not the disease. He's the symptom.

And the nation is FULL of these goobers. And they vote. And they are convinced that tomorrow belongs to them and are perfectly happy to dynamite the entire foundations of liberal democracy to get it.

I do not know how you run a popular republic with this much crazy in it. But I think we're finding out during this Plague Year, and the answer is not a happy one.