Cancelled Canciones: Sorry, Stevie, but you're cancelled!
Stevie Nicks: Why?
CC: "Gypsy" is a slur!
SN: You can't cancel me.
CC: Why not?
SN: I'm an actual witch with an enigmatic sexuality except for one famous relationship with a bandmate in the 70s.
CC: Fair enough. You're not cancelled. But just stick to singing "Landslide" and "Gold Dust Woman"
#CancelCulture
#CancelledCanciones
Cancelled Canciones: April Wine, you're cancelled?
April Wine: Why?
CC: For "Sign of the Gypsy Queen" - "Gypsy" is a slur!
AW: You can't cancel us! We're Canadian.
CC: What does that have to do with anything?
AW: It's harder for Canadians to break into US markets, plus we have a reputation for being SUPER-polite. It would hurt our feelings deeply.
CC: Well, you're still WHITE Canadians, so it applies.
AW: Aw take off, eh!
#CancelledCanciones
#CancelCulture
I have something to say as well, Slate writer: "Stuff it"
The world is already far too busy, too much noise, light, chaos, battering our senses all time, incessantly, without stop.
Putting down the window shade over a space the size of a sheet of paper when you're at 30,000 feet and there is nothing to see but grey clouds anyway is a RARE, BRIEF moment of serenity, of calm, of a tiny cocoon in which we can shut out all the screaming NOISE.
Sure, open the shade for takeoff and landing, because topography can be cool. You can say goodbye and then hello, but in the air? C'mon, Slate writer, stuff your bad take here
https://slate.com/life/2024/07/flying-is-better-with-an-open-window-shade.html?utm_source=pocket-newtab-en-us
Cancelled Canciones: Santana, you are cancelled?
Santana: Why?
CC: Because of your song "Gypsy Queen"
Santana: It's actually called "Black Magic Woman"
CC: They're the same song, separated by a slash mark.
Santana: You can't cancel us anyway, we're Latino and African slash Afro-descent.
CC: Not that white guy, Gregg Rolie. We'll at least cancel him.
Santana: OK by me. No me cae bien ese cabrón anyways.
#CancelledCanciones
#CancelCulture
https://hbr.org/2024/06/how-starbucks-devalued-its-own-brand?utm_source=pocket-newtab-en-us
Very interesting article. Perhaps the most interesting aspect is that it doesn't mention coffee, but further supports what I had noticed decades ago, which is that Starbucks does not really sell coffee, it sells an image - the image of "cool" & "hip"
Starbucks was a Millennial place... and GenXers went there to feel like they were Millennials. But now the Millennials have aged out and spend more time at home or at work (not in this "third place" as Schultz called Starbucks), and perhaps if Starbucks had originally focused more on good coffee at a good price, there might be something for it to cling to - a core commodity.
But instead, it focused on image (the article calls it "experience") and as the company made more money and strove for more profits, the experience suffered.
So many scientists trying to figure out why birth rates are declining these days. They keep thinking that it's lack of finding a suitable mate. I kinda disagree with that, because people throughout history have popped out kids with people they think are complete losers.
Then, they think maybe it's economics. There might be some truth to that, I mean, babies are hella'expensive, and who wants to be spending one full paycheck on diapers when you could still be dropping it on concert tickets or weekends out nightclubbing, amirite?
What no one is saying is that it might be confusion. I mean, seriously, who wants to create a human being who, in five six seven eight years, you're gonna have to go through trying to figure out if they're a boy or a girl and whether you should dump your entire life savings and paycheck into genderblockers or reassignment surgery? 'Cuz in this culture, if you DO then some Republican will report you to CPS for child abuse, but if you DON'T then the Liberals will shame you as an intolerant scumbag.
Or it might just be simple Existential Dread. Everyone sees everything going to shit right now in the world and nothing's getting better. In America this year the only choices for President is a dottering old fool and a rapist old xenophobic grifter. Oh yeah ...and we had a third guy with a dead worm in his brain, don't forget that!
So yeah, if I were still of the age to be makin' babies, I'd sure be like, "No effin' WAY!"
The Greatest Army
The greatest army we ever faced? Strangely enough, it was the army that never came at us with guns or tanks or planes or bombs. They came at us, babbling about their Savior, and how we needed to stop our killing and learn to love and live in peace.
We killed 'em. Sure, we killed 'em. By the dozens. By the hundreds, but they kept coming.
That was the weird thing. They kept coming. Never stopped going on and on about their Savior.
Eventually, though, we did kill them all. At least, we thought we did. You see, they stopped coming, so we thought that was the end of it. But of all the armies we'd ever gone up against, this was the one we couldn't forget. Couldn't get it out of our minds - these crazy soldiers, always going on about their Savior.
Some of us even starting proclaiming this Savior. Just a few at first, and then a handful more, and then more.
So, you see, it's almost as though, in the end, they won. They were the greatest army we ever faced.
#horrorprompt 1428 no sanctity
Detective Samson Liang visited Arthur James Choake (AKA “Artichokie”) on April 20, 2024, where Choake is on Death Row in a Maximum Security Prison in Oklahoma. Here is a partial transcript of the recorded conversation
SL: … I brought all this to you because I thought you could help.
AJC: Still don’t know why you thought I’d be of any help, Detective.
SL: Looking over everything we know about this TCM killer, it seems like you both share the same … determination.
AJC: Thanks for the compliment, detective.
SL: It wasn’t a compliment.
AJC: Yeah it was. You just don’t want to admit it. But anyhoo, all I can tell you is what you already know: he’s killing members of this “dark poets community” – how many is that?
SL: Hundreds – even thousands.
AJC: Well, you got a lot to choose from, but mainly it seems like he’s going for the ones he thinks are not “real writers” – those who don’t actually write or who just fool around in other people’s DMs.
SL: But why?
AJC: I would say it’s because there’s no sanctity in these people’s approach to writing. Or at least, that’s not what he sees. He sees them as “betraying” the sanctity of writing.
SL: Kinda like you. Killing sinners.
AJC: Correction. I kill UNREPENTANT sinners. Those who will never choose to turn their lives back toward the Lord. Your guy here, well, seems like he’s already made his mind up. He’s an editor. In his mind, the whole community is a book, and he’s whittling it down until it’s fit for publication.
SL: That’s insane.
AJC: Writers are a strange bunch, but editors, well, they’re even stranger. Their logic is well, let’s just say, it’s esoteric.
SL: That’s not very helpful.
AJC: Just look for the ones in the group what haven’t actually written a lot in the past few years. Start with them. HE certainly has.
SL: We’ve already figured that angle and we’ve got a list. Don’t know if you’ve a whole lot of help, but thanks.
AJC: It does seem to me that if you don’t stop him before the end of the month, you never will.
SL: How do you figure?
AJC: April is the cruelest month? Detective, that should be obvious. When May first gets here, if you haven’t taken this guy out, he’s either gonna take himself out or he’ll go to ground until next year.
SL: Why do you think that?
AJC: Because the story will be finished. Ready for publication. In his mind at least. So, you got ten more days. Oh, and if you do catch him, tell him ‘2 Peter 3:17’
SL: Do I have to look that up or are you gonna tell me?
AJC: “Be careful that you are not carried away with the error of lawless people and lose your own stability.” You would do well to hold on that verse yourself.
SL: See ya ‘round, Arthur.
AJC: You know where I am, Detective. I ain’t goin’ nowhere but the chair.
April is the Cruelest Month
"Man's yesterday may never be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability. "
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
What does that mean?
It means that I’m going to mute you now.
The sharpened rebar pierced Marc through his navel, and erupted from his spine. Marc was lifted high into the air, impaled and screaming, and brought down savagely onto the ground.
1/2
Oh my GOD! Mags! what he’s doing to that poor man.
I know! Glorious, isn’t it!
No, it’s horrible
The beautiful brutality! Finally, a man worthy of our lust!
What do you mean OUR lust?
2/2
#Mags
I brought this to you because I thought you could help.
How can I help?
You both share the same … determination.
Thank you for the compliment, detective.
It wasn’t a compliment.
Yes it was. You just don’t want to admit it. But anyhoo, all I can tell you is what you already know: he’s killing member of this “dark poets community” – how many is that?
Hundreds – even thousands.
Well, you got a lot to choose from, but mainly it seems like he’s going for the ones he thinks are not “real writers” – those who don’t actually write or who just fool around in other people’s DMs.
But why?
He’s an editor. In his mind, the whole community is a book, and he’s whittling it down until it’s fit for publication.
That’s insane.
Writers are a strange bunch, but editors, well, they’re even stranger. Their logic is well, let’s just say, it’s esoteric.
That’s not very helpful.
Just look for the ones in the group what haven’t actually written a lot in the past few years. Start with them. HE certainly has.
Thanks … don’t know if you’ve been much help, but thanks.
Oh, and detective, if you do catch him, tell him 2 Peter 3:17
Do I have to look that up or are you gonna tell me.
“Be careful that you are not carried away with the error of lawless people and lose your own stability.”
You would do well to hold on that verse yourself.
See ya ‘round, Billy.
You know where I am, Detective. I ain’t goin’ nowhere but the chair.
2024-0419
He sang “Start a fucking revolution” to the tune of “Glory Glory Hallelujah” in his car and fed it to his Instagram. He had driven up from Florida the day before and was now sitting in New York City, a place filled with congestion and people and pamphlets and fences and he could feel the conspiracy crushing him with every breath.
He had a box of pamphlets that he’d printed. The people needed to be told that they are being duped, led, controlled, and ultimately, would be abandoned. If only the people would listen, but they never seemed to listen. The people only wandered around in their own worlds, their own little minds, marching back and forth from their jobs to their homes to restaurants and high school football games like ants. Like mindless ants.
They would have to pay attention. The jury selection for the trial was underway and there were so many media cameras, he would get a perfect shot. He would light up like a beacon on their cameras. The media wasn’t good for much anyway, sending out nothing but lies and foam to keep the brains in fog, but at least today they were on a live feed, and they wouldn’t be able to pull away from the light.
He got out of the car, with his box of pamphlets and the liquid fire. He was Prometheus. The bringer of fire the bringer of light the voice crying in the wilderness, “I am come to bring you light, to awake all you who are sleeping in darkness!”
He walked to the center of the small square, threw the pamphlets in the air, and doused himself in the liquid fire and lit the spark and suddenly he was light and with light there was pain and such pain it was such exquisite pain and he screamed and in the pain of the scream there was truth, naked truth, and now at last, everyone would awake to the Truth and the Pain and the Light
My neighbor was partying and playing loud music until 2am last night. I couldn't sleep. But I remembered what we'd learned in church about doing good to the people who annoy you ... so I stayed awake and at 7am, I started mowing his yard. Even used the leaf blower.
Just read an article by a man trying to spin Leviticus 14:33
Saying that to be kind to the foreigner was meant only to be kind to the "Ger" which is a foreigner who had specifically asked permission to be in the lands.
This is an attempt to apply it to modern-day America and his argument is that Liberals are trying to use the Scripture to justify open borders.
OK, on that second point, he is using a Strawman logical fallacy: stating that the Liberal use of scripture is promoting some sort of extreme existential threat. This is simply a lie. By adding that to his essay, one would easily be able to dismiss the rest of the essay by recognizing that the argument being made is in bad faith and with spurious intent.
However, let's give a bit of credence to the main argument, simply for arguments' sake:
He said that the kindness is only to be extended to the people who had asked for permission to be in the lands.
Immigrants on the southern border turn themselves into Border Patrol asking for asylum. They are the modern equivalent of asking to stay in our land.
Additionally, the majority of "illegals" have simply overstayed their visa. They, too, have asked to stay in our land.
A case can be made that the majority of immigrants to the USA have asked to stay in our lands.
Therefore, they fit into the definition of "ger" as the writer of the essay has stated.
"The attempt to force human beings to despise themselves is what I call hell."
— Andre Malraux
So, our affair. Did it maim you, too?
Did ... you just quote Taylor Swift?
She speaks for a generation.
Yours, not mine, kiddo.
You seemed to enjoy her music those lunches on the way to the hotel.
#Erotica280 83 Affair
The Poet said, "Aw man I HATE doing shows down there. Every single time, I'll be giving them ballads and some Greatest Hits Sonnets, and inevitably, some local yokel will pipe up an yell 'FREE VERSE!' and I'll be like, 'This ain't that kind a show, bro!'"
When people ask me if the accent marks in Spanish are really important, I always tell them that there is a world of difference between "en un año" and "en un ano."
No human demonstrates uncontrolled rage like an American who has been mildly inconvenienced.
Nothing is more dangerous to the Pursuit of Life and Liberty than the denial of full and inalienable rights to all our fellow citizens.
- Joseph Armitage
NOTES for Deacon
Romans 12:4-8
1Corinthians 12:4-11
Colossians 3:23
Sunday Morning Sermon Notes
I Thessalonians Chapter 2
Jeremiah 23 - wood blech hammer [sp??]
2nd Ministry Journey
Trade route - in three weeks Paul established a church and then was run out of town in the middle of the night.
Psalm 119:97-98
1 Thessalonians 1:6-7
wrote one year after he had left Thessalonica
...
2 Corinthians 9:7
Acts 20:35
Heard something today about Harry Potter ... a pro-LGBTQ speaker stating that anybody who has Harry Potter items in their social media bio, or references to Harry Potter in their work or lives, may need to rethink their position, as their support of Harry Potter may be painful to the community because of the creator, JK Rowling.
JK Rowling has, as we all know, in recent years, become quite a controversial figure for her anti-LGBTQ views.
However, for me, personally, Harry Potter represents a period in my life in which I read those books as bedtimes stories to my grade-school son, and it was one of the best memories that I have of him, as his mom & I divorced when he was very young, and he rejected me as a teenager.
So, when I think of Harry Potter, all I have in my heart is a tender memory of my first born son, who will probably never speak to me again in this life.
Now, I understand my personal pain does not measure to the trauma and rejection that this community has suffered; however, I do take umbrage at the subtle censorship by the speaker in the beginning paragraph of this missive: Short version - throw out Harry Potter because it hurts LGBTQ people.
Again, I reiterate my theory that, to be a healthy literate public, we must learn to separate the art from the artist. Whatever views Rowling has should be immaterial to her creation, which has now a life of its own independent of her. Harry Potter should be enjoyed by all - and by that, I mean ALL people, regardless of orientation. Because, while I will never proclaim the Potter books as particularly good writing, per se, the characters are lovable and relatable, and the story is a wonderful underdog tale, and a surmounting of all odd so that good will prevail, and the ultimate message that Love truly does conquer all.
I am truly sorry that Rowling's comments are hurtful to a large segment of the human race - but I will stand firm that, for me personally, Harry Potter is truly all that I have left of my only-begotten son ... and I have made it my ground to stand against all forms of literary censorship, regardless of the source or their rationale.
"Current events, man, world's on fire and it doesn't look like it's gonna get any better."
"Just look at current events like I do, like a giant comedy routine"
"Yeah but nothing's funny!"
"It is if you don't give a shit how it all turns out."
"That's pretty dark, dude."
"No darker than current events."
"Fair point."
Everyone saying that the "Universe has a plan" is really talking about God.
But saying "The Universe" is something that every one KNOWS to be true, and yet still imbue it with a sense that somehow we are loved, cared for, thought about, and special.
But the people who imbue the Universe with these qualities have been cowed by a world that doesn't want them to talk about God, and so they move these needed qualities onto the created (universe) and off the Creator (God).
Full culpability for this, however, must not be given to the world, or the non-believers, but upon Christians themselves, who have either abused the name of Christ for their own selfish ends, or through their complacency have not presented their testimony sufficiently to demonstrate that God is the One who loves you, cares for you, thinks about you, and holds you so very, very special.
TUESDAYS
DEVON
So here we are. Therapy. I never wanted to be here. Never wanted it to get this far. But we have to do something. Something to get us back on track. So I guess this is better than just snapping at each other all the time.
I knew we’d have to talk about our stuff and open up an all that, but it’s already been about a month of weekly sessions and we’re just going around the same old stuff, and the shrink is giving us the same old lang syne…
“Communication”
Jesus, it’s always about communication. I don’t know how to communicate with Cait, not any more.
I mean, we used to, in the beginning, before the kids and even when they were young, but things happen and then you just, I don’t know, build up layers.
Let Cait answer some of these questions…
CAIT
“He never tells me what he needs,” I say to Grace, and she just sits there, like a cat, staring at us both with those eyes, like we’re the mice, and she’s deciding which one to pounce on first.
“By ‘needs’ are you talking about emotional support … or intimate needs?”
What the hell did she just say?
Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I figured she was going to get to that sooner or later. I don’t really want to go there, but
yeah, I just sighed.
A big sigh.
Devon just gave me a look.
This is always about me. Dammit. Isn’t it? Doesn’t Grace know that we women ALWAYS have to be held accountable for the man’s needs? Why didn’t she ask HIM that question?
“I suppose we’re not as intimate as we used to be, but he’s always cold.”
GRACE
And there it is. Cold. Usually it’s the man who tells me that his female partner is the cold one. Didn’t expect that. But yes, the moment these two came into my office, I knew instantly that this was their issue. Which is good. We can work with that. Sex is actually the easiest problem to overCUM, even if married couples like to pretend that it’s the hardest.
Thank GOD their problem isn’t the kids or spending. This is going to make this SO MUCH EASIER.
DEVON
“I want to give her … oral.”
There, I said it. No more beating around the bush. If we’re going to do this, let’s get it out in the open.
“And I don’t want oral,” Cait says. And the way she sounds – so cold, so HARD, so committed.
“What is it about oral sexual stimulation that you don’t like?” Grace asks. Really softly. I like the way
she’s asked that to Ciat. A lot better than I normally say things.
“Do you know how many germs there are in the human mouth?” Yup. THAT’s what she always says. At least she’s saying it to the doctor. SOMEone else is hearing this.
“You can always ask him to brush his teeth first. Gargle, whatever.”
“Still, though … it’s just… ew!”
GRACE
Poor Cait. She really has an aversion to head, and she’s not going to get over it easily. “Devon, what about oral lovemaking satisfies you? I take it you haven’t in awhile, so you CAN live without it.”
“Yes,” he says. He’s so nervous about this. Men usually are. “It just … when I do it, it gets me harder.”
“You haven’t had a REALLY good erection in years!” Cait says.
“And it’s been YEARS since you let me go down on you!”
“You know,” I find myself saying, “It IS a natural act. In fact, there are some women who are just the opposite, who only want oral and ZERO interest in penetration intercourse.” Oh my God I find myself getting wet at just the thought of it.
Cait says, “Well then maybe Devon should just give some woman oral sex and THEN come home to me.”
“Perhaps he should.”
“Maybe it’s you,” Cait says to me. Smart woman. I like her. I like them both actually.
CAIT
Good. I trust her. Fuck, I can actually see her almost panting already, although she’s doing a damn good job at keeping it in control. I think this will work.
“Next Tuesday’s session then,” I tell her. “Devon comes alone.”
DEVON
What the fuck is going on?
….
DEVON
OK, Tuesday afternoon, usual 3:30 appointment. The receptionist, normally cold, is she … smirking?
Does she know? Seems like she knows.
I knock on the door. Grace tells me to come in.
I shut the door behind me and there she is: sitting in her office chair, legs crossed, long hair flowing down her chest. Wearing nothing but a white bra.
Oh shit I can’t breathe. Her eyes, sharp brown and piercing.
She tells me to sit in front of her. She tells me that everything is going to be fine, and Grace, such a tiny, slim slip of a woman, suddenly seems so … full.
I take her foot, toes painted black, in my hand, slowly spread her legs apart, and I hesitate for a second.
Then, she reaches over and pulls me into her.
GRACE
Just get to it, Devon, this is why you are here. This is what I have been waiting for all week!
Poor Devon, it HAS been a long time since he’s done this! I almost want to giggle, but that wouldn’t be professional, would it? No … help him. Guide him. He’ll get better.
There you are, the rhythm, make a rhythm… go deeper, move deeper, there you go, you dear man, use the tongue, around the labia, in and out, feel around, yes, you are exploring, explore, find, seek …
DEVON
I love this I love this I love everything about this, oh lord the taste, that beautifully tart DEEP RICH flavor, my tongue bringing out HER wetness, and the smell of deep ocean, of lush jungle, the smell and the taste and oh god I know I’m probably licking like a fucking untrained puppy dog but it’s here and it’s now and dammit just enjoy this and
there she is! Moving her hips, under my chin, pressing against my upper teeth, her hands on my head, my hands on her hips her legs over my shoulders, don’t stop now, don’t stop now, keep rocking those hips keep
GRACE
that rhythm yes, there you are, like the ocean, like the ocean waves, beating beating beating against the waves, just like Corsica that one summer, and oh my GOD!
DEVON
WOW! Those thighs are crushing my skull! Did my ear just pop? Pretty strong for such a tiny woman! Holy hell….
well, I guess that’s my cue that we’re done.
GRACE
Didn’t expect that orgasm to be so strong. Whoa. Catch a breath here, Grace.
Maybe it’s been longer for me than I thought. Maybe this … arrangement is worth repeating.
Devon seems much more relaxed now as well, and there is a gleam in his eye. Poor man! Instinctively unzipping his pants.
“No,” I tell him. “You take that home to your wife.”
He smiles. He leaves, bulging. Devon is a man who understands boundaries. He’s one of the good ones. I think Cait knows that.
DEVON
Texting my wife on the way out the door to the car… “come home ASAP”
…
CAIT
Walking in the door and Devon is already there waiting for me. He kisses me with more passion than he has kissed me in years, with an urgency that I haven’t felt … so long! Fuck, he’s not even waiting to get to the bedroom, he’s ripping down my underwear! WOW! Glad I decided to wear a skirt today…
“What if the Amazon guy comes to the door?” I ask, “He’ll see our shapes through the glass.”
“If he does, let him,” Devon says, and the turns me around, and I put my hands on the alcove shelf and Devon is inside me already and he is fuller than I have felt him in so long, Oh my God how I love this man how I love every part of him and how I love his urgency and how I love his need for me and his hand that reaches around to cup my breast and his other hand with my skirt hiked up around my hip and take me, Dev, fucking yes just take me
DEVON
I love this woman, fuck, do I love this woman, her huge hips, I just want to smack ‘em, just grab them and hold on, I need her, I do need you Cait, god I love you, she is so perfect inside, she has the perfect pussy and it’s mine and my dick is hers and this is for
“Come,” Cait says and I do. And I do.
CAIT
I love the thrust and the flow and I love this man, and yes, THIS is a FLOW! I can tell he is coming a river.
Then, he releases me and I need a moment to catch my breath … hello! Steady there.
“Are you … OK?” Devon asks.
“Better than OK,” I say. I turn around and I kiss him … HARD. “I love you!”
“I love you too,” he says.
“No, I mean I REALLY love YOU.”
“And I do really love YOU!”
Then, I say, “Let’s go get some tacos!”
“Taco Tuesday?” he says. Then, he smirks, “Now THAT’s some kind of double entendre.”
And now we’re both laughing. Laughing more than we’ve laughed in a long time, and it’s good.
It’s very good.
She knew words were powerful, from the first time she wrote a story as a child and made her mother cry.
In high school, she wrote a story about suicide. Three of her classmates took their lives before the end of the semester.
In college, she wrote a story about wild, unprotected sex. The University noted a sharp uptick in pregnancies and venereal diseases that year.
In her twenties, she wrote a story about gun violence. Murders in her neighborhood increased exponentially.
One day, she decided to write a story in which everybody in the world was caring and decent and kind to each other, and everyone lived in peace and then ...
nothing happened.
Nothing changed.
She realized that there was, indeed, a limit to her power. To the power of her words.
Feeling a deep, profound disappointment, she sat down to write her final story, one in which every country decided to drop all their bombs, everywhere, all over the world.
Do you hear how the Satanic Temple is putting all their statues in schools and in City Halls all around the country?
I think that's being a bit overblown.
No it's not. There's all these TikTok videos on Instagram about it. Satan is winning!
No, he's not. He's already been defeated. We know that. You know that.
Well, then why is everybody letting this happen.
I blame us Christians..
How can you blame us? Our faith?
When you don't present your case as clearly and accurately as possible, you shouldn't be upset when someone else comes along presenting something that's more attractive and seemingly fulfilling.
"I came here to write poems and whoop ass!"
"So, how's that working out for ya?" "Well, I'm a wussie, so I'm just writin' poems." "Hate to tell ya, but your poems suck, too." "Well, shit."NOTES from the Sunday Sermon
"Anger is never an acceptable response from someone who serves the Lord"
AIRAOS
Pastor dice
Interrupción es orgullo
Produca
Conflicto
y aumenta más conflicto
#hopscotch
#poem
MR
2024-0204
The sun goes down on your anger
Ayúdame, Señor
interrupción es orgullo
James 1:19
Dad had always
followed a convoluted path:
swift to hear
slow to speak
but he was not so slow to wrath.
#hopscotch
#Poem
#poetry
MR
2024-0204
James 1:12
My brother said
that he had earned the Crown of Life
he endured
temptation
His prize blessing? A loving wife!
#hopscotch
#poem
#poetry
MR
2024-0204
Wife: That neighbor is a real stuck-up bitch?
Husband: Which neighbor?
Wife: The one you confessed was "kinda cute."
Husband: Oh. What about the one I said was "ugly as a box of rocks"?
Wife: She's all right, I guess ... unless she starts chatting you up.
Husband: I see how it is.
"So ... are you vicious bishes, or just suspicious bishes?"
"We're delicious bishes!"
"My favorite kind!"
Some chatter on social media is saying that other states are sending their militias to Texas' southern border to fight against the Feds.
Unconfirmed, but most likely true in some fashion or other.
Heard on NPR that Mitch McConnell has told the Senate Republicans not to vote on any resolution for funding the government that Trump doesn't approve of.
This means no aid to Ukraine unless more funding for the Border.
Interesting to note several items:
1) Trump is not in government. There is ZERO reason to kowtow to him.
2) McConnell, in 2008, the moment Obama won the election, brought together a group of Republicans and stated that the Senate's only goal was to make Obama a one-term President. Therefore, McConnell knows full well that the Senate (and indeed, all Congress) has the power to stop the President at every turn. There is ZERO reason to kowtow to Trump. No logical reason whatsoever.
The only reason that makes any sense is that they are not really working for Trump, but for the powers that are behind Trump.
PITCH
Screenwriter: It's about an actor named Timothy Shayamalet, who stars in, like, EVERY movie within two or three consecutive years, and everyone finds out at the end that he's been dead the whole time.
Producer: No way I'm dropping a hundred mil on that. Get me another Fast and Furious.
SW [sighs]: OK, I can get that to you by next Wednesday.
P: AI can get it to me by midnight tonight.
SW: Well, shit.
Going to call this year "American Purge"
As of this date, 23rd of January, Texas Governor Greg Abbott told the Texas Military to deny the US Border Patrol access to the region.
the Supreme Court ruled that it is Constitutional Law that the the Border Patrol have access to the region to cut the wire.
Today, Abbott ordered the Texas Military to defy the SCOTUS ruling and continue to put up razor wire.
In defiance of Constitutional authority.
So ... in short - the argument against immigrants is that "they are coming here illegally and we are a nation of laws"
Yet, when the third co-equal branch of government rules that THIS is the law, because anti-immigrants don't LIKE the law, they will IGNORE the law.
The only logical conclusion is that this is NOT about legality.
It is about humanity.
It is about who we consider "worthy" and who we do not consider "worthy"
