Fucking fraidy-cats

Ain't it the truth?

News that Donald Trump would not be attending the annual White House Correspondents' Dinner--which if republicans are honest is more about his not wanting to get his feelings hurt than about any sort of political stand--was not all that surprising given the rather feeble state these days of both republicans and their supporters.  What is surprising is the way the media portrays them as the party of strength, when in effect they're really just bullies and dodos:

• A new poll shows 66% (the highest percentage) of republicans think that immigrants are a big problem in America.  Because what could be more terrifying than a scared family trying to escape oppression?
• The same poll shows the number two problem for republicans is terrorism.  Fucking seriously?  We've had one large scale attack in 241 years and they're afraid it's going to happen again?  Hell, I spend zero minutes of my life worrying about terrorist attacks--there's a much better chance some idiot will plow into me with his car than there is I'll be killed by a terrorist.  Not to mention the fact that most acts of terror in America are committed by right wing nut jobs.  
• A chance that there'll be protesters at a republican congressmen's town hall?  And republican congressmen disappear like farts in the wind rather than face their constituents.  Ballsy!
• Who;'d have ever thought republicans would roll over and play dead while Russia runs roughshod over America?  
• And let's not forget all the concealed carry laws they've passed--because you know the Bloods and Crips are just dying to pop a cap in some old white guy's ass in Podunk, Kansas.
• Last but not least--if the legislation they're passing is designed to make the wealthy wealthier, just say it instead of being a bunch of mealy-mouthed sycophants.  Besides, their base supporters are happy to be boot lickers when it comes to rich rolks--not like it's going to cost them any votes.

I once read that bullies are both liars and cowards.  When it comes to republicans, truer words, my friends, truer words.

Fuck Donald Trump,

emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CXIII--The Waterboys: A Man Is in Love

I have heard "Big Music" and I will never be the same.

Such are the The Waterboys, one of the best bands that most folks have never heard of.  Formed by Mike Scott (and he is the only constant in the band) in 1983 in Scotland, The Waterboys are a big picture band in the same sense as U2, though they haven't had nearly the commercial success. Marked by literary references (in 2010 The Waterboys put 20 W.B. Yeats poems to music and debuted a show called An Appointment with Mr. Yeats--the resulting album reached #30 in the U.K.), strong lyrics, and varying music styles (Rock, Celtic, Irish, Folk), The Waterboys had a modicum of success in the U.K., but have never had an album reach higher than #76 on the Billboard charts.  Still, they've been recording and touring (they've had over 70 musicians tour with them at one time or another, which, unsurprisingly is a record) for thirty-five years, having released 11 studio albums, numerous compilations, and a number of live recordings.

I came to them quite by accident--I enjoyed the debut album of Karl Wallinger's World Party and had read he had been a member of The Waterboys, and decided to take a chance on a greatest hits package.  It was love at first listen--had there been but world enough and time (literary reference!) I am sure I would have devoured their entire catalog.  Alas, there was not (and a decided lack of cash for frivolities, too), and I had to settle for being an admirer of the small body of their work that I knew.

Fun Fact:  The Waterboys are named for a lyric in Lou Reed's song, "The Kids"--"I am the Water Boy, the real game's not over here...."  However, some folks speculate that The Waterboys name (the W and the B) is actually a nod to one of Mike Scott's literary heroes, the aforementioned W.B. Yeats.

Released in 1990 on Room to Roam, "A Man Is in Love" tells the story, surprisingly enough. of a man who's discovering that he's in love.  The song was released during The Waterboy's/Scott's Irish music period, and very much reflects that influence.  The instrumental breaks feature some whimsical flute playing (you could imagine a leprechaun dancing a jig to it).  While the lyrics are light-hearted, Scott has a way with turning a phrase and sings with an earnestness that keeps the song from becoming just another sappy pop ballad.  It's an adult look at the glory that is falling in love and Scott adroitly ties in the joy, the wonder, and the awe that march hand in hand with discovering that special someone.  There's a nice twist at the end (a la Rickie Lee Jones "Chuck E.'s in Love) that'll leave you with a smile on your face and humming the tune for days to come.

Lyric Sheet:  "A man is in love, how did I hear?/I heard him talk too much whenever you're near..."

Enjoy:

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

With a whimper

Going, going...

Today's headline:

Immigration and Custom Enforcement (ICE) Forcibly Removes Woman with Brain Tumor from the Hospital

And that sound you hear is the collective puckering of republican lips as they suck America's soul into an infinite vortex.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Captain crunched

Please, sir, can I have some more?

Russia may have influenced our election?  Not interested.

Trump family's myriad conflicts of interest?  Couldn't care less.

Already spent more tax dollars protecting the Trump family in one month than we did the Obamas in a year?  Not a problem.

U.S. corporations hiding money in offshore accounts all the while mooching off the infrastructure America's citizen's pay for?  Whoop-dee-doo.

Hungry kids getting a free breakfast at school?  Can't have that!  Fraud!  They're stealing pennies a day!

What is it with republicans and fraud when it comes to poor people getting food?  One supposes that hungry folks and fraud, like voter fraud, exists in the same alternate universe as all the sex American teenage boys are having with their Canadian girlfriends, but still you have to wonder about the soul of a party that constantly equates being hungry with stealing.  And I'd like to say it's just republican politicians, who would blow an elephant and post the video on Youtube if they thought it would help the wealthy have even more money, but it's a significant chunk of their base as well.

You'd think for all the religious yahoos their party attracts, there would at least be one of them who's familiar with Matthew 25:31-46:  "Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me."

Obviously not.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Gods and monsters

He's got the whole world, in his hands...

Village idiot Pat Robertson said on his TV show this week that those people who are protesting against Donald Trump are revolting against God.

Hmmm.

And which God do you suppose that would be?  The one that condones hating on people because they're Mexicans?  Or the One that thinks it's just peachy to keep refugees from entering our country because they're Muslims?  Or the One that's just fine with tearing families apart by deporting mothers and fathers?  Or the One who thinks it's just great when men grab women by their crotches?  Or the One who chuckles when a man stands on a stage and makes fun of the disabled?  Or the One who stands idly by while thousand die because their healthcare was taken away?  Or the One who supports white nationalists?

Donald Trump is proof positive there is no God--because no benevolent and loving Supreme Being would ever allow such a monster to be the most powerful man in the world.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Heil Trump!

Your typical Donald Trump rally...

This is why it's a waste of time to engage Trump supporters--words from Trump's Florida rally this weekend:

"I don't care what he does.  I'm behind him 100%.  Put it this way:  If he became a dictator and they said, 'We want him forever,' he's my man.  He's in.  I'll never vote against him...I love his power...It's the power that does something to me."

Cretins such as this man have no idea what America is or what America means.  The Declaration of Independence and the U. S. Constitution are just words they throw out in their false patriotism, but they flat do not understand that the former was written in response to the scenario outlined above and the latter was written to prevent it from ever happening here.

Trump supporters do not love America--they love watching the powerful run roughshod over the powerless.  And they have neither the courage nor the heart to fight back like those in the resistance do.  Instead they'd rather have the vicarious thrill of watching Donald Trump and his idiot minions use powers that Trump's supporters will never know to destroy the best laid plans of our Founding Fathers.

Make America great again, my ass.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. XCII--Translator: Everywhere That I'm Not

Every now and again, a band has one big commercial hit and makes a career out of it (Edison Lighthouse, "Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes)", Marcy Playground, "Sex and Candy").  In somewhat of an oddity, Translator managed to make a career out of this week's featured tune, and the song had no commercial success whatsoever (though it did do well on college radio).  But, as one critic I read while doing my weekly half-assed research noted, "this is one of music's most glaring should-be-classics."

To steal a line from Frank McCourt, "'Tis."

Translator formed in 1979 in Los Angeles, but because they wanted to be a lot cooler than they already were, decided to move to San Francisco soon thereafter (says the born and bred San Francisco boy).  They released their first album in 1982, and would release three more albums in the next three years.  They officially broke up in 1986, but as (Kinda/Sorta) One Hit Wonder Bands are wont to do, they have reunited several times through the years, and released their fifth album just last year.  Translator has a long history on college radio, and appeals to those with underground/indie/hipster leanings in their musical taste.

Released on their debut album, Heartbeats and Triggers in 1982, "Everywhere That I'm Not" is a shot of anger/bitterness/catharsis from its bass line bum-bum-bum/jangly guitar opening to its vocal cord shredding vocals at the song's close.  Along the way we're told a tale of a man who sees a former flame walking down the street, feels her presence in his car, but knows that's impossible because she's everywhere that he's not.  There's a killer chorus that opens with a staccato repetition of the word impossible ("That's impossible, that's im-/that's impossible, that im-poss-/that's impossible, that's im-poss-i-ble!") that I've never heard the likes of before (and adds mega points to the song's coolness quotient) which works its way into the places he's not ("You're in New York, but I'm not!"), and (emaycee fave!) which is repeated numerous times throughout.  In short, it's one of the best singles the 80's had to offer, hasn't lost any of its oomph in the years since it's release, and is a delightful reminder of the tricks a broken heart can play on the mind.

Liner notes:  "I though I saw you/Out on the avenue/But I guess it was just someone/Who looked a lot like I remember you do..."

Enjoy:

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

You want fries with that, asshole?

Alas, too little of the important green goes to workers...

Donald Trump's nominee for Secretary of Labor, Andrew Puzder, withdrew from his nomination yesterday in light of reports saying anywhere from 4 to 12 republican senators would not vote to confirm him.  While Liberals and workers' rights groups have rightfully been quick to celebrate this victory (and let's face it, there probably aren't going to be many) as neither Puzder nor Trump are friends of working folks, it's important to note that republicans turned on Puzder not because of his company's (Hardee's and Carl's Jr.) documented records of stealing wages from its workers and sexual harassment, but because of reports of his physically abusing one of his ex-wives and his hiring of an undocumented immigrant to be his housekeeper.

For all the CEOs out there, this means that you can fuck over all your workers as much as you want as long as you don't get caught hiring an illegal or abusing your wife.

For the rest of us, as far as republicans are concerned we can get paid slave wages and our families can starve as long as we keep electing republicans.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Money that's what I want (not)

No, no it doesn't

After a particularly nasty town hall this past weekend, Trump sycophant and 'ineffectual Utah congressman Jason Chaffetz claimed that his constituents, who rightfully were there to ask him to do his job, were nothing more than "paid protesters."

Point the first:  Um, can someone point out to me where these people are who are paying us Liberals to protest?  To get paid for it would be sort of like being a professional baseball player:  not only do you get to do something fun but they give you money for it, too.

Point the second:  What do you suppose they'll say when all these "paid protesters" vote them out of office in 2018?

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

America laughed

Do not question my authori-tay!

Donald Trump toadie Stephen Miller went on the Sunday news shows this past weekend and had this to say:

"The end result of this, though, is that our opponents, the media, and the whole world will soon see as we begin to take further actions, that the powers of the President to protect our country are very substantial and will not be questioned."

I'm not sure what alternate reality this motherfucker is living in, but here in America we've pretty much questioned our President's authority since the day the Father of our Country became our first President.

And I'm absolutely positive we'll rightfully be questioning the authority of a dunce like Donald Trump, regardless of the circumstances, until the day the White House doors are hitting him in his ass on his way out.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

He's making a list

The Democrats are coming!

Apparently the Trump team is already making a list of scary candidates they may face in the 2020 Presidential election, and the top four names now are Ohio Sen. Sherrod Brown (pretty please?), Connecticut Sen. Chris Murphy (not too bad), Colorado Gov. John Hickenlooper (no clue), and Trump wannabe Mark Cuban (I have a better chance of being the Democratic nominee--and if he runs as an independent, we win).

Keeping in mind that the scariest candidate of all would be Elizabeth Warren (likely not running), but considering Trump's historic disapproval ratings and rank incompetence thus far, shouldn't their list also include any American over the age of 35 who can walk and chew gum at the same time?

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CXI--Three Dog Night: Shambala

For those not familiar (and God knows I wasn't before I did my weekly half-assed research), Shambala--actually Shambhala--is a mythical kingdom supposedly located in or around the Himalayas which, when all is lost, will rise and destroy the Dark Forces after which we will all live in harmony.  And with the darkness that is Donald Trump and republican majorities in the House and Senate, one supposes the armies of Shambhala will be on their way any day now....

Three Dog Night had a hell of a run from 1969 to 1975--they had 21 top forty singles on the Billboard charts, three of which went to #1.   And yet when I was reading about their history I can't say I was the slightest bit surprised they weren't Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees.  Not that they were a bad band--I know every song of theirs that made the top 40 (and thoroughly love many of them) but they were another in a long line of great singles bands from the 70's (Bachman Turner Overdrive, Electric Light Orchestra, The Spinners) who lit up the radio with their hits and then faded into obscurity.  Nothing wrong with that--the rock and roll pantheon is filled with great songs by one hit wonders and bands that have been all but forgotten.

Three Dog Night is still performing to this day, but have only released one studio album since 1975 (in 1983).  They are also known for introducing America to a number of previously unknown songwriters (many of whom went on to great success themselves) including Hoyt Axton, Laura Nyro, Randy Newman, Harry Nilsson, and Leo Sayer.

Fun fact:  Three Dog Night is named for an Australian aborigine custom.  When it was cold, they would wrap themselves in one dog while they slept.  When it got colder, it would be two dogs.  On the most freezing of night, it would be three (a three dog night).  Fun!

"Shambala" was released as a single in 1973 and later appeared on their Cyan album (as was often done back in the day).  It would reach #3 (with a bullet!)--had it hit #1 it would have brought a rarity for the charts:  they would have had a #1 single in four consecutive years.  Alas, it wasn't to be, though the song is considered one of Three Dog Night's better ones, and certainly one of the best of their latter years.  In a nutshell, it's gospel pop--regular readers (all three of you) will recall I have a bit of penchant for such (Al Green's "Take Me to the River," Rod Stewart's version of "Amazing Grace") and let me tell you, if there is a heaven and they play this one in regular rotation, I might stick around a while.  It's got a little guitar, a little piano, some wonderful gravelly and righteous vocals from the late Corey Wells, lots of "oo-oohs" and "yeah, yeah, yeahs" in the bitchin' backing vocals, and to be perfectly honest, in this time of utter existential dread, it's just got a feel good vibe of better places and better times for these days, when even the slightest sliver of hope is most welcome.  How does the light shine, indeed.

Liner note:  "Everyone is lucky, everyone is so kind/On the road to Shambala..."

Enjoy:

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Knowing your audience (or not)

Out of touch and soon out of time...

In response to Nordstrom's and a few other retailers dropping Ivanka Trump's clothing line due to piss poor sales, Kellanne Conway, ever the unadulterated sycophant, went on Fox News today and encouraged Trump supporters to head out to the mall and show their support for him by buying his daughter's clothing.  This caused quite the uproar, because under federal law, public servants aren't allowed to hawk goods on TV (or elsewhere).

Lost in all the legal hubbub, though, was the absurdity of the request--does Conway really think the average Fox News viewer shops at Nordstrom's?  Or that the poor white folks whose economic anxiety supposedly led to Trump's electoral college victory have the disposable income to buy upscale clothing?

They might be shopping at Old Fart's 'R' Us Discount Barn, but they sure as shit aren't paying premium prices for Trump Turds at Nordstrom's.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

I live in DeVos

Strangled by the mitten...

I used to live in Michigan.  Now I live in DeVos.

Our capital used to be Lansing.  Now it's DeVos--that's right, our legislature legislates in DeVos, DeVos.

We used to have a State House of Representatives and a State Senate.  Now we have the Lower DeVos and the upper DeVos.

Our Governor--terrible as he is--used to be called Rick Snyder.  Now he's Governor DeVos.

We used to have a republican party and a Democratic party here.  Now we have the DeVos party and the Democratic party.

People may think I'm being overly dramatic but I am not--our state has all three branches solidly controlled by republicans who are in turn solidly controlled by the DeVos family.  Whatever the DeVos family wants, they get.  And without the slightest hint of dissent--no republican member dare question them lest the DeVos family set up a well-funded primary challenger in a heartbeat.

I mention all of this because the Senate approved Betsy Devos--a woman who has no qualifications whatsoever and appears to have received her appointment due to her family's bribing of republican Senators--as our next Secretary of Education.

And anyone who doesn't think the DeVos family wants to do to America what it did to Michigan is absolutely kidding themselves.

And there's no more perfect pawn than Donald Trump.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CX--Richard and Linda Thompson: Wall of Death

For those thinking the Wall of Death is some sort of maudlin metaphor, you're going to be disappointed.  It was actually, back in the day, an amusement park ride for thrill seekers wherein motorbike riders would ride around in a circular structure, somewhat similar to a rather large barrel, and defy gravity as they rode at a 90 degree angle around and around the Wall of Death (check out the video for the song--it'll give you a better idea).  And near as I can tell, no one ever died from riding it.

Richard Thompson may be the most talented songwriter and guitarist that next to nobody ever heard of (though it's said by some that he reached the level of fame that he was comfortable with).  He started his career with the seminal English folk rock band Fairpoint Convention which had a modicum of success in the sixties (they remain together to this day).  He left in 1971 to start a solo career and shortly thereafter met Linda Peters (who would become Mrs. Thompson), and they began recording together.  They would go on to have three children, convert to Islam, and release seven albums together before an especially bitter divorce (which would be the inspiration for their last album, though Mr. denies this as Mrs. rolls her eyes) ended their musical partnership.  All told Richard Thompson has released 25 LPs. and remains recording and touring to this day.  He has received numerous accolades, and whether by design or bad luck, has managed to avoid any kind of commercial success.

Shoot Out the Lights, the album from which "Wall of Death" emanates, was released in 1982 and became an instant classic to the half dozen or so people who actually heard it.  Honestly, it will show up on almost any 1980s best album compilation, was ranked #333 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 greatest albums of all-time--and it never even charted on the Billboard 200.  Still, as one of the few people who has actually heard it (and owns it--on an LP, no less), it is a hell of a record, chronicling the demise of a marriage.  It's also Richard Thompson's best selling album of his career.

And so it goes.

I'd nearly forgotten about "Wall of Death" until a few years back--I was in a bit of a Nanci Griffith kick (for the umpteenth time) and was listening to her second record of classic folk song covers, Other Voices, Too, and her rendition of "Wall of Death" (very well done) jogged my memory.  "Wall of Death" is something of an oddball tune on Shoot Out the Lights, as it's a bit more upbeat than the other songs and, unless it's some sort of metaphor, doesn't really have much to do with the end of a marriage.  Still, it's a great tune, taking its listeners on a trip to the carnival while it's extolling the wild ride that is the lives we lead.  It features some understated guitar work by Thompson, some great backing vocals from his former Mrs., and, fittingly with it's theme, some roll of the dice lyrics and music.  Let me take my chances, indeed.

Lyric sheet:  "You can waste your time on the other rides/This is the nearest to being alive...."

Enjoy:

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Where's Gepetto when you need him?

Your typical right wing talking head

Professional racist and editor at the White Nationalist rag Breitbart Milo Yiannopoulos tucked tail and ran yesterday after the University of California said it couldn't guarantee his safety at a speaking engagement there amid violent protests over his planned talk.  As he was wiping his runny nose and changing his pee filled pants, Yiannopolous had the temerity to say that the left--and shame on the media for giving him a forum to further spread his lies--was "absolutely terrified of free speech."

No--what we are is completely sick and tired and utterly pissed off that Yiannopoulos and similar minded folks on the right think that free speech means they can lie without being called out on their lies.  You're free to lie all you want--you're just not free to whine like a baby when people prove you're lying and then call you a fucking liar.

Gepetto put up with Pinocchio's travails because he loved him--I'm pretty sure that 99% of Americans couldn't give a shit less about Milo Yiannopoulos and we aren't about to stand idly by while he gives hate filled speeches.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Jesus wept--special thanks to the Catholic Church

Can you say hypocrite boys and girls?

On the heels of Donald Trumps executive order banning Muslims (well, at least the ones that aren't in countries that do business with Trump's interests), Phillip Pizzo, a Catholic priest at St. Benedict Joseph Labre church in Queens, NY, posted at image on Facebook this weekend that showed a man falling to his death as a means of suggesting that Donald Trump's Muslim Ban protesters should kill themselves.

On the Compassion Meter, this one hits zero.

On the Golden Rule (you know, love your neighbor as yourself) Meter, this one hits zero as well.

On the Surprise Meter, though, surprisingly enough, this one also hits zero.

Because the plain truth of the matter is that for all their pro-life bluster, the Catholic Church couldn't give a shit less about any human being once it's out of the womb.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee