Month: January 2024

I know I posted this only last week but part of it was bugging me and I did a bit of a revision. It was a little monotonous in the verses so I changed up a couple of them.

Much better now I think and still fast with a shitload of words, loves me fast with a shitload of words

My response to the silliness that is the “God Made Trump” video.

Cheers Kevin MacLeod and thanks for the perfect tune to fit what was in my head.

“Boogie Party” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

So back in ’46 when God took a break

After world at war that had so much at stake

He blinked for second and before he knew what

A Fred had had a son who would think he the one

To lead his people to some new promised land

But a one where democracy could no longer stand

.

Well God said then I hope this ain’t a mistake

Just wanted take a sec and a little wine break

But future he could see at the hands of Fred’s son

Who’d find ways to rake in some new fresh coin

And adulation

From every sunup

From those just off a turnip truck

.

He’d think Prez down escalator to ride

A gold idol though behind God he’d try hide

He’d play up charlatans and God speaking Jakes

They’d get in prayer circles hoping then just to fake

His true Christian values that could be on the take

For just the right price

New discipes would buy right?

.

But then he got sold

On all he was told

And started to believe that God had foretold

That he was the chosen of new myth of old

Reality of course now it be on the run

At Rally’s he’d exclaim oh what such fun

To smite the nonbelievers

Who’d soon be cursed ones

.

Then God said oh me just what have I done

Can never take a Me damned break no matter the fun

Though that was fine wine worthy even of nuns

I must be on my toes truth it’s under the gun

At the hands of true believers who turn now to song

To praise an orange fraud they think’ll rise like the son

.

To deliver them a hero in a new paradise

Devoid of immigrants just gotta call ICE

He’d be the caretaker of their righteous white world

Where enemies in fetal poses they would be curled

He’d fight off the Marxists and the fascists to boot

His projections of the enemy would be such a hoot

.

To call them fascists while he’s making such plans

To make democracy a now also ran

He’d have his true believers seeing future in sight

Whatever he says conservative on the right

Not on the far left where the vermin do land

They need be threatened dead now that’s a good plan

.

They say he’ll be a guy who could shape and ax

But also wield a sword though that’s quite a task

He was brave in North Korea while stepping a foot

Thankfully no bone spurs de-ferred his look

But he gloried love letters of he and an Un

Such a nice fella who could take a sweet turn

.

But then he got sold

On all he was told

And started to believe that God had foretold

That he was the chosen of new myth of old

Reality of course now it be on the run

At Rally’s he’d exclaim oh what such fun

To smite the nonbelievers

Who’d soon be cursed ones

.

Then God he sat back and just shook his head

He’d said look what I’ve wrought in the U.S. of stead

I’ll surely face my wrath for what I’ve let done

And that wrath being mine won’t be as fun

I’d like me as God show discipes the real light

But they’re lost now don’t even realize their plight

.

That in a den of vipers he’s the head one

Leading all the rest to follow his red forked tongue

He’d offer Eve the Apple saying speaking of tongues

Leave that loser behind I am your one

Like the naked look that you got goin’ on

Now drop the fig leaf and let’s take the plunge

.

Adam … go away will ya? … busy here

You’re messing with my tiny mojo

No, God ain’t looking

D’ya think he cares?

.

But then he got sold

On all he was told

And started to believe

That God had foretold

That he was the chosen of new myth of old

And his discipes he continues to mold

.

They gather at his rally’s put together fan schlock

That God gave us Trump the one who’d care for the flock

A shepherd to mankind they say without jest

And surely damn you libs don’t put us to the test

He speaks of retribution he’s a man of his word

Unless you call him on it then he’ll say that’s absurd

.

So God sat back in a comfy cloud chair

To look at what was happenin’ down there

And orange idol thinking he was sent by me

Disciples feel the same but just for a fee

That’s when God said I think I’m done

Back to that glass of wine yeah that would be fun

Cause though he knows he dropped the ball in ‘46

He is still all seeing and likes his kicks

Maybe kill the bottle then for even more fun

Don’t know what could happen when God gets drunk

Maybe a something to get him out of his funk

.

Yo!

Angels?!

Yeah!!

I need another bottle!

And somebody … get me my files on divine retribution

Ok, I have talked (posted) of this before but it bears revisiting as this continues to be a dirty fingered bone of bagel contention and also a point of fascination for me, never ceasing to amaze: The Ongoing Great Bagel Dilemma (paraphrasing and plagiarizing of that older post allowed because, well, I wrote it and this is my blog not yours).

We get a tray of bagels delivered here at the stations from a local deli once a week and generally my co-workers tend to follow a pretty simple, dignified bagel etiquette – rush the tray, knock people out of the way or push them down like you’re sacrificing them to the bear that is chasing you at a National Park after you tried to take an ill-advised selfie just so that you can survive and get a free bagel and then go back to your cubicles and do sales people cubicle things, or studios and do radio DJ people studio things, or to your business offices to do business people business office things, or to your mansions and do … whoa!! How the hell’d you all get in here?! We do radio, no rich folks allowed!! Out!!! Be gone with you!!! Don’t make me stab you with this plastic cream cheese knife!!! … (muttering to self) rich folks, freakin’ mooches!!

As you can tell, free food can cause quite a stir and is one of the only real perks of working in radio and always has been (no, meeting “rock stars” doesn’t count because that’s pretty fleeting, their autographs aren’t ever worth shit and they never have free food on them – you’d think they’d at least have grabbed something from the backstage spread and stuffed it in a pocket – ok, maybe that’s just Bill from accounting who was wearing an all access lanyard) but at least no one was hurt in this week’s bagel go round, though, like car accidents where you don’t notice at first, there could still be residual effects and a back or neck complaint that might be lodged in the coming days.  

But that thing that never ceases to amaze me that I mentioned above (and most certainly isn’t just us in this workplace) is the person or persons who don’t want an entire bagel but still feel the need to leave the unwanted portion on the tray, like to leave that portion of the bagel they don’t want is some sort of grand magnanimous gesture that will be applauded by their co-workers.

“I do not wish an entire bagel” they say to themselves “but I will leave the portion that I do not desire to my dearest of co-workers and they will thank me heartily for my selfless consideration especially when all the bagel bounty is nearly depleted”

Ok, here’s the thing and it’s pretty simple.

Just take the whole fucking bagel!!

Nobody is going to pat you on the back for this consideration, the leaving of a partial bagel so that someone else may still be able to benefit from your largess. Just take the whole bagel and throw half of it away for all I care.

And I don’t want to hear about what your mother admonished you with when you were younger about wasting food “you’re not going to finish that!! Shame on you!! Do you know there are starving children in (fill in country) who could live on that half a bagel for a week!!!”

Just suck up the lifelong guilt that you suffer every time you throw away any almost still good bit of food and take the whole fucking bagel!!

Or wait, I don’t know, save it in some of the plastic the tray was wrapped in and maybe have it for tomorrow?! Woah, there’s a novel idea!!!

But if you insist on being one of these annoying partial bagel people here is a pretty simple approach and with pictures to make it easier to digest.

The bagels come pre-sliced so if you really do only want a partial bagel take the top half or the bottom half:

Bagel on the left.

And, boom, that’s it, no other options.

Bagel on the right?

You are obviously an uncultured peasant. No one will thank you for leaving them this partial bagel after the initial rush on the tray has rendered it almost bereft of bagel purpose and possibly left some of your co-workers with limps or neck aches, because now you have manhandled it with your filthy meat hooks and torn it like some sort of barbarian and no one wants that … no one!

NO ONE is taking what your dirty flesh paws have left them, especially the orange one, whatever the hell flavor of bagel that is.

I may have mentioned this already, but in case you missed it, just take the whole fucking bagel!!

Please!!!

And don’t get me started on if this partial thing happens with the free donuts from Dunkin’ that show up magically on occasion because that’s just wrong!

Went downstairs yesterday lugging some books in a storage container (one of many) to put them in my car, my “new” car, Lilly, (yes she has a name as BB had a name until ill-timed blind left hand turns from a fellow driver rendered him nameless) and, in my lugging, I remembered, shit, books have weight and not just of whatever stories they might hold but books have weight, motherfuckers are heavy!!

I am to be moving from my 6 year spot here on the Hill of fur, a lot of fur, at the end of next month (I will write about that at another time) and I really need to pare things down. Single dudes with two cats don’t need to have nearly as much shit as I have and that includes books in storage bins, numerous storage bins.

It hurts a little to make the decision to put them in Lilly and not just from the toll on the back (with your legs Steve, lift with your legs) but the putting of them in Lilly means I am letting them go, the first step to goodbyes.

I don’t know, no, I do know what the difficulty with letting books go is. There are lives in there, worlds, adventures, friends, some met some not (I am no hoarder but there are some that I’ve kept and always told myself if only the time to meet) they are people and memories. They exist the second you crack a spine (with your legs Steve, lift with your legs) and it is tough to let people go, even those who only exist in words, even some you haven’t met, haven’t met “yet” you keep telling yourself from place to place to place. I have a universe in four storage bins, a universe that I have been lugging with me from one smaller universe to the next since my college years. But if I hold onto them it will just continue to be a lugging and a universe closed, sitting dormant under folded towels and cat’s asses in windows with nothing more than hello’s in a morning’s drapes open above fur and stories just wishing to be read, just wishing their purpose.

They need to breathe, if they can.

I need to breathe.

I am lucky enough to have a good friend whose wife works at a library and might be able to give my books a good home.

“Yes, this is Emily and Earnest and Edgar and some of their friends, be kind to them (apparently my favorite letter today just happened to be presented by Ernie) but there are others of course.

I did, though, do what any of us would do, no matter the grand intention of the “paring down”, and that is pull some out to start a new, separate storage bin. Yeah, this is tough. A couple of Gene Wolfe’s that I missed reserving on my “reserved for Gene Wolfe” shelf under the TV, an almost 30 year old movie review book because it is so important to be current plus I think my cinephile friend, Rick, would be disappointed if I didn’t, the Bill James baseball book to remind me of a lifelong of fandom before Rob Manfred cheapened the great game, the second in a trilogy of a space sci fi opera that I read in High School that will, of course, require me to add while I subtract and find the first one for a re-read, some yearbooks, high school and college (I did say books were people right?) a book of poetry from a professor I almost studied with years ago, a something of nightmares that ya just have to keep simply for a nightmare’s reason, a couple of others and a little gem that my Dad used to refer to, copywrite 1957.

It’s 20,000 pre 1957 words but pocket sized so that’s Ok right?

Plus, memories.

Right Dad?

And who the hell is Leslie by the way? HeHeHe.

So there was some silly shit. Some fankids putting together a video of how Trump is God chosen (not to mention those that sing him songs too) … I did just say silly shit right?

My response in a bit of a tune … (just an instrumental bed I found that I liked, fast and with room for too many words … yay)

Cheers Kevin MacLeod and thanks for the perfect tune that was in my head.

So back in ’46 when God took a break

After world at war that had so much at stake

He blinked for second and before he knew what

A Fred had had a son who would think he the one

To lead his people to some new promised land

But a one where democracy could no longer stand

.

Well God said then I hope this ain’t a mistake

Just wanted take a sec and a little wine break

But future he could see at the hands of Fred’s son

Who’d find ways to rake in some new fresh coin

And adulation

From every sunup

From those just off a turnip truck

.

He’d think Prez down escalator to ride

A gold idol though behind God he’d try hide

He’d play up charlatans and God speaking Jakes

They’d get in prayer circles hoping then just to fake

His true Christian values that could be on the take

For just the right price

New discipes would buy right?

.

But then he got sold

On all he was told

And started to believe that God had foretold

That he was the chosen of new myth of old

Reality of course now it be on the run

At Rally’s he’d exclaim oh what such fun

To smite the nonbelievers

Who’d soon be cursed ones

.

Then God said oh me just what have I done

Can never take a God damned break no matter the fun

Though that was fine wine worthy even of nuns

I must be on my toes truth it’s under the gun

At the hands of true believers who turn now to song

To praise an orange fraud they think’ll rise like the sun

.

To deliver them a hero in a new paradise

Devoid of immigrants just gotta call ICE.

He’d be the caretaker of their righteous white world

Where enemies in fetal poses they would be curled

He’d fight off the Marxists and the fascists to boot

His projections of the enemy would be such a hoot

.

To call them fascists while he’s making such plans

To make democracy a now also ran

He’d have his true believers seeing future in sight

Whatever he says conservative on the right

Not on the far left where the vermin do land

They need be threatened dead now that’s a good plan

.

They say he’ll be a guy who could shape and ax

But also wield a sword though that’s quite a task

He was brave in North Korea while stepping a foot

Thankfully no bone spurs de-ferred his look

But he gloried love letters of he and an Un

Such a nice fella who could take a sweet turn

.

But then he got sold

On all he was told

And started to believe that God had foretold

That he was the chosen of new myth of old

Reality of course now it be on the run

At Rally’s he’d exclaim oh what such fun

To smite the nonbelievers

Who’d soon be cursed ones

.

Then God he sat back and just shook his head

He’d said look what I’ve wrought in the U.S. of stead

I’ll surely face my wrath for what I’ve let done

And that wrath being mine won’t be as fun

I’d like me as God show discipes the real light

But they’re lost now don’t even realize their plight

.

That in a den of vipers he’s the head one

Leading all the rest to follow his red forked tongue

He’d offer Eve the Apple saying speaking of tongues

Leave the loser behind I am your one

Like the naked look that you got goin’ on

Now drop the fig leaf and let’s take the plunge

.

Adam … go away will ya? … busy here

You’re messing with my tiny mojo

No, God ain’t looking

D’ya think he cares?

.

But then he got sold

On all he was told

And started to believe

That God had foretold

That he was the chosen of new myth of old

And his discipes he continues to mold

.

They gather at his rally’s put together fan schlock

That God gave us Trump the one who’d care for the flock

A shepherd to mankind they say without jest

And surely damn you libs don’t put us to the test

He speaks of retribution he’s a man of his word

Unless you call him on it then he’ll say that’s absurd

.

So God sat back in a comfy cloud chair

To look at what was happenin’ down there

And orange idol thinking he was sent by me

Disciples feel the same but just for a fee

That’s when God said I think I’m done

Back to that glass of wine yeah that would be fun

Cause though he knows he dropped the ball in ‘46

He is still all seeing and likes his kicks

Maybe kill the bottle then for even more fun

Don’t know what could happen when God gets drunk

Maybe a something to get him out of his funk

.

Yo!

Angels?!

Yeah!!

I need another bottle!

And find me my files on divine retribution

One of the nice things about WordPress here is that you can check your “stats”, your numbers in the way of views to your things (you can also see the whereabouts of viewers which is just way too cool “Hello Paraguay! Can you hear me in the back France? Portugal? Nice to have you along, Switzerland? thanks for the eye! … what? yes, non committal here”)

Usually it’s just views of recent stuff but sometimes you’ll see that someone has gone back in the blog a bit and viewed something older.

Thus the reason for this So Then Sunday today as I noticed earlier this morning that I had a view of this one, going back to 2020.

My version of the Beatles’ “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” – “Trump D’s Golden Scepter”.

Thanks for the reminder unknown person.

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

.

(doo doo doo doo)

Not much of a post here, no story, just another political parody in my long list of such, this one about what is at stake in this coming election.

Will it be continued democracy or a creeping fascism?

Shame on you GOP for your lack of will and your rubber backbones to not stand up for the former and just accept the latter instead now as a matter of course, as if this were just the flow of new history, the CPAC darling Jack Posobiec highlighting such in his future jackboot “Democracy needs to die” inspirational rant blueprinting all that is wrong with today’s GOP while of course somehow laying the blame of this wish at the feet of Dems and their destruction of OUR country “They say democracy, but they mean authoritarianism, and they know it,” he said with a straight projection face, the one where they are not allowed to assert their will and force us to bend to it. Can’t have that.

Fuck you Jack whoever you are by the way. I mean, should I know you? Are you a thing?

To Stealers Wheel “Stuck In The Middle With You”.

Stuck in Democracy’s Fight

Well don’t know which way we’ll head in this fight

Gonna be ‘bout truth or just what ain’t right

Democracy’s on table up in the air

Though the GOP just don’t seem to care

.

Heroes to the left of us

Fascists to the right

There we’ll be

Stuck in democracy’s fight

Yes we’re

Stuck tryin’ hold onto light

.

Well the rhetoric is dark and it harks 

To bleak history now back in an arc

Where it re-turns to new devil to bark

.

Heroes to the left of us

Fascists to the right

There we’ll be

Stuck in democracy’s fight

.

Well we hear it at the rallies

Violence a hope to carry then

And bluster to the rosters

of the pawns be called to muster

say pleeeeaasse

save us pleeeaaase

.

Oh!

.

Well democracy falls to the wayside

To the right kind that’s the new way to ride

Mind true leader till left’s left on the floor

Cause great country just can’t take anymore

.

They say

.

Evil’s to the left of us

Righteous to the right

Here we’ll be

Stuck in democracy’s fight

.

– break

.

Well, there’s a fight that is a brewin’

Constitution it’s a stewin’ now

It warned of men who would be kings

Tried steal from new need kissed rings

Put checks in

Pleeeaaassse

Pleeeaaassse

.

Well, we all know why we came here tonight

Be ‘bout truth or just what isn’t right

Democracy’s on table up in the air

Though 35 percent just don’t seem to care

.

Heroes to the left of us

Fascists to the right

There we’ll be

Stuck in democracy’s fight

Yes we’re

Stuck tryin’ hold onto light

Stuck in a fight for our lives

Liberty

Wants to continue to ride

Before needs in darkness then just to hide …

They make deals

in flashlit bangs

with kisses

hugs

new year people

Make me thin

wish

me

comfortable in my own skin

finally

like yesterday

I’m sure I knew

when

I was small

Make me rich like tomorrow

buy a boat

and float

aways pretty

prettier than me into sparkling seas

the one I can never see

even in reflection

Make me strong

enough

stronger than I was

when only me dared call my

strong’s bluff

but in silence

who would know

it’s just me

a new year

like last past

a leap into

future

Make me different

I don’t care

who they would see then

when

drop a ball

turn a clock

Make me someone I am not

drop a ball

turn a clock

it’s Ok

who would see then

in

flashlit bangs

with kisses

hugs

just a me

but …

but …

tick …

tock …

drop a ball

turn a clock

maybe a me could be just a me

how could that even be

but …

but …

don’t get ahead

of

ourselves

or do

get ahead

of

ourselves

years come

fall

fail

drop a ball tick

turn a clock tock

again