So Then Sunday: Trump D’s Golden Scepter (song)

With the Orange asshat out on the road and being all extra Orangey and asshatty recently, of course attacking anyone who dares not support him with that special brand of witless wit of his, I thought I’d go back to February of 2020 for a bit of fun and a take on “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”.

Good times.

Plus as an added bonus, if you click now, there are a couple of links to this Beatles phase of mine, though obviously dated, including a limited edition version of “Yellow Submarine”, act fast!! Don’t delay!! Only available for today!! (Ok, well …)

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February 16, 2020

A most bestest of friend of mine (yeah, I said most bestest … what of it?) who I sent a rough draft of this, texted me to complain of an ear worm. Apologies I said, but, selfishly, I’m all good with complaints of an ear worm. I’ll take that as a compliment to some of my endeavor’s annoying stick-in-the-headedness.

Though I recently posted my collection of Beatles/Trump tunes from the last year or so, The Orange Album, it seems that wasn’t a final Beatles piece. I’m thinkin’ I’d pair this version of Maxwell’s Silver Hammer with my version of Yellow Submarine, “Orange Quarantine” for an A and B side single if I could do such a thing. A good ol’ double sing-a-long. Tap a toe if you’d like.

Cheers as always gang,

Trump D’s Golden Scepter

Don wasn’t quizzical

It seemed to him illogical

To find truth that leaves no doubt

Don’t allow intelligence in this

Hou-hou-hou-house

He hid his shortcomings

In wordy salad long goings

He makes no sense at all

But staff always picks up the messy dropped word

Ba-a-a-all

But just then that damn press it drops by

To point out all his lies

Bang! Bang! Trump D’s Golden Scepter

Came down upon their heads

Bang! Bang! Trump D’s Golden Scepter

Would threaten them be dead

Back at podium

He sings his tried true stratagem

Of playing victim’s card

Dem’s they are just mean

As you all have

See-ee-ee-een

He tells ‘merica

Believe Mob King Republica

Vindicated now

And those who don’t agree will pay dearly

And how-ow-ow-ow

The swamp’s tides getting much stronger now

So he paddles up with no mind

Bang! Bang! Trump D’s Golden Scepter

Comes down upon our heads

(doo doo doo doo)

Bang! Bang! Trump D’s Golden Scepter

Dissension will be dead

Bang! Bang! Trump D’s Golden Scepter

Would turn us all to red

(doo doo doo doo)

Bang! Bang! Trump D’s Golden Scepter

Loyalty it must be bred

His senate they are all in line

Claiming everything is fine

Dem’s are those to blame

Future now an easier despot

Ga-a-a-ame

Lindsey and lackey crows

Talk around with Fox News shows

Espousing all the lies

While Mitch hopes to continue with Russian

Tie-i-i-ies

And the GOP laughs right in our face

As the Trump tries to force blind

Bang! Bang! Trump D’s Golden Scepter

Held high above our heads

(doo doo doo doo)

Bang! Bang! Trump D’s Golden Scepter

Propaganda’s never dead

whoa whoa whoa whoa!

(doo doo doo doo)

Golden Scepter

ding ding

(doo doo doo doo)

So Then Sunday: You Can Call Me King (song)

Haven’t done a So Then Sunday in a while. For a refresher it’s a Throw Back Thursday on a day that ain’t a Thursday. Back to March of 2020 to Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al”, back in my earlies of this sort of thing. Always liked this one. One of my faves and one of my best as far as that goes.

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March 7, 2020

After coming downstairs yesterday morning, grabbing a seat across from the couch and picking up little Spanky, the now, unfortunately, one eyed Pirate of a dog in my lap I said to Celie “Arrrggghh (pirate talk) and be alright, but after I be getting home tonight, a bit late after some time in my little studio to be a’fixin’ a few things on my latest shantie, I’ll be but hunkering down for the weekend”

spanky the pirate

(I stole the thought of the “be’s” and the pirate talk from a brilliantly funny story I recently read at The New Yorker. Learning The Ropes by Simon Rich. A fantastic story. You may have the time now, so take a moment. It be well worth it).

Celie: Corona?

Me: Yeah.

Celie: Stop and Shop in the morning?

Me: Well, except for that. Then Yeah.

Celie: Get cat food, litter, beer, seltzer and small Steve food?

Me: Of course, though no beer. Too early. I’ll be going down when they open at 6. Less people. I’m also all set in the beer regard anyway. Staple already stocked. And then no human contact other than that nice woman who works Saturday mornings there … I want to call her Grace but that’s not it … it’s shorter … Kay maybe. … or Gay … her and possibly that other woman who may pop by to not need to bag my stuff.

Celie: So, just a regular weekend?

Me: Hey! … it’s a hunkering … waaay different thank you Ms Smartypants.

Celie: Gotcha.

Well maybe my well honed skills at being anti-social will work in my favor during all this. Tell the universe I didn’t say that out loud by the way.

I did though fix up and finish my latest tune, adding a few soundbites as well as changing the “na-na’s”.

Changing the “na-na’s?’ Now that sounds kinda funny.

I was a “na-na” on the initial “na-na’s”?

A man lies as he breathes
He says why would you trust another now
Who can you possibly trust
Now I’ve shown you what my facts is
A fascist truth sledgehammer
Nuthin’ else believe-able matters
Other than this con in this con man’s swamptown

(and a-oooh ah-oooh)

Lap dogs in orange swamplight
Here’s a lie-ball GOP go fetch excuses

Newsman, newsman
Get these facts away from me, ya know,
No one finds real truth interesting anymore

If you’ll loyalty me blind
I can be your despot chum
I can call you subject
And subject you adore me
You can call me Czar

This man original Trumper says
There can never be a never me
If there’s a never me they’ll never be
Happy in a sea of me
Where will the answers come from
If I don’t truly be-lieve
Who will I turn to when
The truth slaps me
Awake and awake
To the harsh realities
Of Moscow Mitch’s word marble hypocriteness
Hammers and sickles
Getting stocked up in the open
Along with some of the finest cossack hats

If you’ll loyalty me blind
I’ll let you kneel and kiss my ring
I can call you subject
And subject you adore me
You can call me King
You can call me King

(break)

A man late night he’s tweeting
How he’s a victim in this world
Maybe it’s a big blue meanie world
Where they’re just out to get him
And they don’t see his genius
Or see how great he his
The greatest all narcissists
Surrounding himself with nothing more than
Clowns clowns
Who dance for him like marionettes
In a tiny orange circus

He checks the mirror again
Sees Messiah staring back at him
At least that’s what the hacks say
And he so believes them

If you’ll loyalty me blind
I can be your despot chum
I can call you subject
And subject you adore me
You can call me Don

Na-na-na-na-na
Just call me king-na-na
You can kiss my ring na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Loyalties the thing na-na
Better never sing na-na
I’ll take your everything na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na

Ummmm ah-ah
Ummmm ah-ah
Better give up mind now

Ummmm ah-ah
Ummmm ah-ah
You’ll be just fine now

Ummmm ah-ah
Ummmm ah-ah
Just a matter of time now

Ummmm ah-ah
Ummmm ah-ah
Democracy dies now

If you’ll loyalty me blind

I’ll let you kneel and kiss my ring

I can call you subject

And subject you adore me

You can call me King

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Woke Hopes (song) Revisited

DeSantis administration rejects AP African American course for Florida High Schools

“It is inexplicably (laugh – lotta syllables – surprise) contrary to Florida law and significantly lacks educational value” (because it’s not possible to purposely devalue even more)

“In the future, should the College Board be willing to come back to the table with lawful, historically accurate (funny) content, FDOE will always be willing to reopen the discussion” (because being “lawfully AND historically accurate” is ripe only for our interpretation, not discussion, in our alternate version of history … and note “lawful” again … there will be repercussions if not …)

So, with little Dictator in waiting’s latest and even more brazen de-humanizing admonishment of anyone who dares attempt to allow any other than the chosen have an identity and a history, especially a one that doesn’t comply with his continued whitewashing take on such (we gots laws and such now in this great state of sunshine ignorance) I thought to this one from August of last year.

It’s not much, doesn’t cover this in particular per se, but has it’s moments, just a ditty, a ditty that says a little ditty thing about a ditty little thing, about a thing, about a person who is a grave danger to us all.

Woke Hopes (little dictator song)

Next time you’re told

To be woke isn’t bold

By a Ronnie who scolds

Know he just trolls  

Just what makes little dictator rant

About some things that he says ya just can’t

Eyes open to inclusion now

A weakness you can’t allow

But we’ve got woke hopes

We’ve got woke hopes

Hopes not turning blind eye to the “other” folks

But when you need a bigot’s screed

To tell you what truth’s to heed

Just remember his rant

Ohhhhh …

Ooops, there goes another Ronnie slam

How being hu-man is just another scam

Ooops, there goes the truth a now also ran

Ronnie now calls

To his herd of mind smalls

That they must all stand tall  

Or think to brawls

Now Ronnie says CRT is just crap

Doesn’t fit his supremacist rap

His white kin they were ex-cep-tional

Racism don’t even track

Cause he’s denier of truth

With slaves country didn’t build roof

And if you say otherwise

Laws he’ll pass making rights go poof  

So anytime you hear Ron speak

Know his white’s been tweaked

And he just won’t couch for that

Ohhhhh …

Ooops, there goes some more to demonize

Inclusive compassion that’s a bunch a lies

Ooops, here goes some hate to try on for size    

(break)

Ron threatens anyone who don’t agree

With his hist’ry tree

Don’t be of them and not we

Ohhhhh …

Ooops, there goes another truth to turn

Ooops, there goes another book to burn  

Ooops, there goes democracy to be spurned

Mm Mm

A New House

Not my usual if not a parody tune in this regard, as I try to stay away from straight up commentary. No one reads that shit here, it’s too easy, and too dull. Occasionally though …

Recent GOP House timeline

Pre mid-terms : chomping at the bit for a red wave that will usher in some actual governing from a party that generally avoids such a thing, possibly taking control of both houses. (temperature: giddy, if that were a temperature)

Post mid-terms: nurse wounds from a new found non-existent red wave that just leaves asses chafed and chapped but still chomping at the bit to actually do some governing now after a narrow victory though not really knowing exactly how anymore as governing is not their “thing” just obstruction and not condemning any of the dangerous and bigoted rhetoric of their members. (temperature: daffy … that’s actually a real temperature it seems)

Having one guy try to endlessly elect himself speaker of the House that will now finally allow them to start to govern, even though they have been turning a blind eye to such for years but telling you that they could do it better than anyone ever in the history of ever (words probably borrowed from a friend):

Try #1 – now is our time … ok just a test run …

Try #2 – no worries ..

Try #3 – ummm?

Try #4 – bloc of 20 holds tight, dubs themselves future cell block crazy’s

Try #5 – ?????

Try #6 – Jim Jordan has been nominated and that seems almost sane in the most insane way. Some bigwig nutter on Twitter with a ton of followers even has recently tweeted that he is the most trustworthy member of Congress, the shower kids surely agree.

Try #7 – still no worries, just trying to get our fu … ducks in a row

Try #8 – zzzzz

Try #9 – zzzzz

Try #10 – zzzzz

Try #11 – America? You still awake? This is Democracy in action. What can be more Democratic than being able to continue voting until you get your desired result?

Try #12 – zzzzz

Try #13 – zzzzz

Try #14 – No, seriously you can bounce me at any time with just one vote of any of the bloc or another against me, can use my house at any time, no warning, just show up, you can even use it as a stepping off point for transporting minors across state lines if need be. It’s a really nice house, she’ll love it.

Try #15 – Success!! “I hope that one thing is clear after this week: I never give up … My father always told me: It’s not how you start or how much you embarrass and subjugate yourself along the way. It’s how you finish and make that phone call to Florida. “It’s a Kevin, says you know him, will you accept the charges?” We have got to finish strong for the American people (as long as they are rich).”

Finally in charge with the slimmest of margins the first order of business is to block the dollars in new IRS funding without actually looking at how that funding is to be spent, or NOT spent, or over what period of time, or why, no, just headline theatre damning the torpedoes of billions added to the deficit over same period of time, we are the fiscally responsible ones after all, trust us, while sending a message to rich friends that we will do everything we can to allow you to keep cheating on your taxes even though that’s not what this is about.

Announce an investigation into the definition of false equivalencies, and documents equated, which you would think having been used so often in the recent past that it wouldn’t need be defined but equivalencies has a LOT of syllables, shit’s tough, so the correct definition is vitally important. Instead, it shall now be defined as “I know what you are but what am I …”

Promise to investigate investigations into the investigators and how investigations came to be investigations and how those investigations were investigating things we didn’t want to be investigated unless of course we are the ones investigating. Oh, and laptops, laptops are coming. don’t forget laptops (and wistfully remembering her emails … man, the good ol’ days).

Declare Jan 6 a new national holiday. Patriots day.

Roll back the ban against smoking on Capitol Hill.

Doing important shit here.

Next up?

“Hey, I figured out what false equivalency means”

“No, no you didn’t”

“Sorry, my bad”

A Riveting Sunday

Frankenberry’s latest thriller “Apartment” is a riveting discourse into the nature of …

Dude?! …

What? …

You know this isn’t a movie right? …

Shut up … a riveting discourse into the nature …

Seriously dude, it’s not a film, it’s just you sitting and repeating the word riveting …

… a riveting discourse into …

Ok, never mind, I’m out …

A riveting discourse into the nature of …

Hey one more thing …

What?! …

You know … whatever, fuck it …

… a riveting discourse into the nature of face plants with cats and Sundays the documentary (Rotten Tomatoes avg score 87% audience score 98% … screw you you heartless 2%) …

Stink Bugs & Me (audio post)

Been wanting to do a read of this one for an audio post for a while now as it is one of my fave posts … well at least until I find another to do a read of that will then become one of my fave posts.

This one is from two years ago now. Miss ya Memes.

Stink Bug

Noun

  • any of numerous broad, flat bugs of the family Pentatomidae, that emit a disagreeable odor.
  • any of various other malodorous bugs.

Frankenberry

Dude

  • in a Pittsburgh Pirates hat with cats, singular and thin (minus that beer bulb above his belt) of the family Frankenberry human
  • malodorous or disagreeable scents are only for cats to decide and they poop in an open air box so they’re not much to judge

Stink Bugs seem to be a fan of my apartment, and me, and I’m guessing some of you might be able to relate.

Stink Bug 02-20-21

Now, I’m not overrun, sometimes in the summer there might come the occasional mini swarm of ‘em but, though it is just a few, but there is never a time where there aren’t at least a couple to be found hanging around somewhere in this place, doin’ Stink Buggy stuff, which is generally just that, hanging around, on or in or under things and usually found with a bit of surprise. Now they  don’t freak me out, mind you, as they might some and there is no knee jerk to quickly kill them as could be the case with others or even you. It’s not a “me or them” kinda thing, they pose no real threat to my life as far as I can tell, well, except for maybe that one crazy for bug and bug country kamikaze flying stinker who might hit you full buzzing speed fly mid yawn to get lodged in your choking throat becoming a folk hero to Stink Bugs all across Stink Bug Nation but, otherwise, they’re pretty harmless.

My ex, Maria, was on the freak out end of the stink bug, or any bug reaction spectrum and found no humor in me finding humor in her freak outyness or my smiling indifference to complying with her demands to kill them as she cowered with eyes wide and a pointed finger. Even the JG, her son, cowered and pointed the same. And he was a kid. Isn’t gotta crush bugs right in a kid’s wheelhouse? I don’t know, maybe there was some early childhood trauma associated with bugs I wasn’t aware of before we threw in our hats. A spider on his pillow whispering nightmares, a centipede crawling leg legs legs legs legs over his arm in the middle of the night, an aunt that came out from under the floorboards and squeezed his cheek too tightly giving unwelcome kisses? If so, apologies for sounding callous JG, but Stink Bugs, for the most part, are pretty simple, slow meandering things who don’t really do much, flit to flying only on occasion, but usually are pretty easy to gather into my catch and release empty Friskies cat food can … have open window, will Stink Bug travel.

You see Stink Bugs and I here have come to a sort of understanding. You stay away from the bed, especially my pillow, you don’t buzz my noggin tower in the middle of the night, you stay away from my sundries and my bathroom towels, you back off on the Human vs Stink Bug wartime propaganda to try and keep your kamikaze prone in check and I in turn … won’t kill you. I think that’s pretty fair. I will even call all of you Ralph (apologies femme stinkies – and any Ralph’s that may be reading this … or hearing this) to sort of, though generically, personalize our relationship and make you feel more at home and give you a bit more reason to stick to our agreement.

Now occasionally there are those that will break the armistice though some of it is my own doing. I don’t use my bathroom hand towel very often, for example, so when I do come across a Stink Bug on it I can’t be overly upset and just resort to a, you know, willy nilly lobbing of killings at all Stink Bugs. It’s what they do. Ya leave an anything hanging too long, some rogue Stink Bug gonna test the waters, or cloths. I can give that a pass, but there was a situation a couple of evenings ago that seriously tested our truce.

After getting home and going about my routine of getting to the top of the stairs and greeting Mimi the Quirky (always waiting just there amid a tappy tappy toe toe tap tap to the floor stretch) with a pick up to my shoulder where she awkwardly enjoys my pets and hello’s in her quirky, old girl shy to the touch squirmy kinda way, then giving a pet and a wink to my little Bella and being quiet so as to NOT wake up Cricket the Blind, that’s when the meowling and counter clockwise circles pacing starts if you do, I began cleaning up after Cricket the Blind who can take the simplest of cat functions like water bowling or litter boxing and make them the not simplest of messes (she literally fights with the water in the water bowl and splashes it around like she’s trying to teach it a lesson for saying something it should regret before drinking it off her paw). Then it was to filling some cat bowls with some cat food, get a plate of some Steve food ready and get changed into some comfies all before I made my way to the bathroom for my evening … ummm … my evening make way to the bathroom.

When I was finished with this evening make way to the bathroom I stood, and just before my bend down for the pull up a Stink Bug fell … to the floor … from, oh God no please … to just between my heels inside my underwear waiting for that pull up and just before slowly Stink Bugging away.

I said earlier that Stink Bugs don’t freak me out, and they don’t, though this came close to qualifying. It had an at first glance obviousness that I was just unwilling to consider.

Could that have?

Is it possible it?

Am I a freak?

I detectived.

Did you feel any tickles or scratching during the day I said to a me?

No. (penciling notes on my little mental detective notepad)

Did anyone at work comment on your butt muscles moving in any strange way while you walked past them?

No.

Plus that could have possibly prompted a call to Bev in HR. 

Were you the subject of a coolly looking though horrific scene in a monster movie watching under skin bumps slowly rolling, crawling from your brain to your buttocks?

No.

Do you have any weird ass entomological predilections you should never, EVER, mention out loud in any company, mixed or not, if so?

No.

Then, continuing to detective, I thought of other places that a Stink Bug could have fallen from to between my heels instead of out of what was just too much to consider.

Then, light bulb! (save my thoughts light bulb please).

I had just put on a long sleeve T-shirt that was laying on the futon from the Saturday before’s laundry and had been for almost a week (my futon is kind of like a dresser, just minus the folding, the drawers and the picture frames, with my actual dresser envious of the use and attention). Yeah, that’s it I thought. That’s the ticket. It must have just fallen from the inside of my long sleeved T-shirt I kept thoughting.

I went with that.

I had to.

Could I have, again, possibly started lobbing killings, as this could be considered a breaking of our Stink Bugs & Me treaty or do I instead go with the aforementioned understanding that the unattended can be considered fair game in Stink Bug Land?

Alright Ralph, we are good for now my friend. We’ll just call this a one off. But please, if ya can, just grab and hold on to shit in my closet that I never wear will ya? Stop falling out of the seeming unimaginable. It’s very  uncomfortable at the thought.

Stink Bug & Marvin

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Yesterday morning, after a stand up from my … uhhhhh … make way to the bathroom in the morning pre-shower a something fell to the floor between my heels. Again. And it was a little on the hairy side. Bella, who is always my company around my legs and feet before I jump in the shower in the mornings, stepped over my feet to sniff at it … then promptly hightailed it out of there as if she had just sniffed at a cat demon or been bitten in the ass. Now it was nothing more than laundry fluff from yet another recently washed and dried long sleeve, layed on the futon dresser, but it scared the shit out of a cat enough to a mad sprint. Truthfully, it kinda concerned me a bit too. But,  at least it just stayed there, it sat, all hairy and maybe worrisome but, it just sat.

In Bella’s defense it was some pretty frightening looking laundry fluff – something that John Carpenter might have imagined could sprout legs and scamper off malevolently  – but it was still just laundry fluff.

Seems new agreements might need to be reached though with laundry fluff.