Watch Out, There's A Felon On the Loose

This is a bulletin for all those people living in the tri-state New York area: Lock your doors, there's a felon on the loose! He may come bursting into your house any minute and try to write a check, or worse, hand you an invoice.

I am speaking of Donald Trump, the former president, who was convicted of being a felon yesterday. Joe Biden shuffled up to a microphone today and alerted the public, calling Trump "dangerous" and "unhinged." The convicted felon Trump was convicted on 34 counts. Just so you can be ready for him, these are the details of his dastardly crimes:

He wrote 11 checks to his former lawyer, Michael Cohen.

He received 11 invoices from the same man.

There were 12 suspicious entries in Trump's business ledgers.

In case he doesn't get sent to prison and is out roaming the streets, be sure to hide all your pens, checkbooks and writing papers of any kind. In fact, better lock your desk drawers and your offices. You never know when he will strike again.

Yaaaay for Our Team!

University of Central Missouri students react to the 1995 Simpson verdict.

Boston crowd erupts gleefully after conviction of Trump is announced.

The congratulatory whoops and high-fives of most Democrats over Donald Trump's conviction of a concocted victimless crime reminds me of the wildly joyful outbursts of most African Americans when O.J. Simpson, murderer of two white people, was declared innocent. 

O.J.'s trial was in 1995. Almost 30 years later, humans have not progressed much.

Trump in 2024

Honestly, I don't care that Donald Trump had a sexual encounter with a porn star in 2006. Or that he tried to keep it from his wife and the American public ten years later, before the 2016 presidential election, by paying her a sum of money to STFU. I don't consider that an effort to "defraud voters by illegally influencing the presidential election," which is what the prosecutor in the stupid trial going on in New York City said in his closing arguments yesterday. Let's remember Trump was running against Hillary Clinton, and virtually nothing anyone could have done or said would have gotten me to vote for her instead.

I care much more that Joe Biden is a liar who used his position as Vice President under Obama to earn cold, hard cash in the millions for himself and his errant son. And I care much more that Joe Biden lies like a dog, saying he graduated near the top of his law school class when he was actually abysmally almost in last place. And that Joe Biden was, and likely still is, a longtime racist with a history of, by now, well-known anti-black statements he made while he was a senator. And that he is now an 82-year-old buffoon who gets Botox to make his cheeks look younger even though the rest of his face looks like a monster. And I care that he slurs his words and doesn't know what year it is and shuffles along like one of the zombies in Michael Jackson's Thriller video. And mostly I care that if he dies, Kamala Harris, a silly twit, will become our president.

I'm voting for Trump and nothing anyone says can change my mind.

Whatever Happened to Being Qualified?

Growing up in the 50s and 60s, I understood that the office of the President of the United States was occupied by a great orator with unbounded energy, high ideals, superior intelligence and impeccable decision-making skills. Obviously, those days are gone. Today the occupant of that office is a sleepy senior given to slurring his words, a proven liar and plagiarist who has profited from influence-peddling, unsure of where he is at any given time, and reliant on others to make all important decisions for our nation.

His Vice-President, who would take over should he drop dead today, which could happen, is no better. While she may have high energy she surely has low ideals, knows little of world events as far as we have seen, prattles on about nothing and has never made one decision that impacts the country. She is, however, half-black and half-South Asian, which are her only qualifications beyond her gender, allegedly female.

To say we are up the creek without a paddle should the Democrats win in November is a mighty understatement. Yet the clueless Democrats forge ahead with Joe and Kamala as their chosen candidates for 2024. This seems odd since there are currently 23 Democratic governors, 46 Democratic senators and 213 Democratic congressmen (and women). How is it possible that not two of those 282 politicians are capable of running the country? And if not, what the heck are they doing making our laws? 

Forgive and Forget

In law, unring the bell is an analogy used to suggest the difficulty of forgetting information once it is known. 

Reading the slanted opinion section of yesterday's New York Times, which I do with trepidation since it usually causes me to have conniptions, I came across an article that seemed worthy. Until I saw the byline: Jeffrey Toobin. While the accompanying bio identified him as the author of a forthcoming book, all I could think of was the once-respectable lawyer jerking off in full view of his colleagues at The New Yorker during a 2020 Zoom call.

Obviously Toobin has been forgiven by the powers that be since he was re-hired as a talking head at CNN and found a publisher for that forthcoming book. But he'll never be back in my good graces, as long as I still have a functioning memory. Bad behavior is something that sticks, at least with me. That's why the name Bill Clinton still conjures up visions of cigars and a stained blue dress, even though his transgression with Monica Lewinsky happened almost 30 years ago.

I know -- we are supposed to forgive and forget. But I don't. Sue me. As the old saying goes, "You can't unring a bell." So whenever I see Jeffrey Toobin, his pants are down around his knees. (Bill Clinton's too.)

George Floyd Day

Yesterday was the fourth anniversary of the death of George Floyd. Many people online commented  about it. One of them wrote this:

“I would love to have a George Floyd Day. We, as Black people, have never been able to get away from. I don’t want people to judge people by the color of their skin, the size of the house, what kind of car you drive. I want people to judge him because of the contents of your mind.”

It's sad when someone dies, despite the fact that everyone does and will. In this case, the deceased was a hardened criminal and drug addict who had been convicted twice for armed robbery and three times for illegal possession of drugs. He had just passed a counterfeit bill in a store when he was arrested. The unduly rough behavior of one cop allegedly caused Floyd's death, although later evidence suggested he had died from a drug overdose.

George was somebody's son and that makes me sad to think of his poor mother. But really, do we need a special day on the calendar to celebrate the life of a criminal simply because he was black? In fact, how would we even celebrate?

Oh Yeah -- I Have A Pizza

How distracted does a driver have to be on a hot summer day to forget that there is a 3-month old baby in the back seat of their car? So distracted that when they arrive at their destination they hop out and that's that, until a few hours later when they return and there's a dead baby back there.

I try to imagine what could be so distracting and I come up empty, unless it's that when you arrive at your destination the Lord Jesus is waiting there and greets you by name. Or maybe all four Beatles are performing on the street, including John and George back from the great beyond. Or maybe when you park your car, balloons and confetti surround you and there's a crowd of people applauding because you are the one-millionth customer at that particular Walmart and you just won a trip, all expenses paid, to Tahiti and there are TV cameras filming the whole thing.

Otherwise, are you kidding me? Yet here we are again, with a dead baby found in the back of an SUV yesterday, outside of a Morgantown, West Virginia daycare center, which makes it all the weirder. Did the driver work at the daycare? Hmm, seeing all those children would definitely remind me. Or did they come to drop off the baby and then think, huh, why am I here again, and go for lunch instead?

In 2023, that situation occurred 29 times. Authorities suggest that parents put something in the front seat to remind them that their child is in the back seat, like a diaper bag or a toy. Or maybe they should put a big pepperoni pizza in the back with the baby; everyone would remember the pizza.

What Kind of Human Are You?

The Dalai Lama said there are two kinds of people in the world: human beings and human doings. But more about that later.

Here's a riddle with no answer: What is the meaning of life? Yet if you Google the question you will get many responses from "experts" who have "studied" the subject and have written many books about it. So for those people, the meaning is to earn their living defining the meaning of life, and since nobody knows  everyone will scarf down whatever they say and buy up those books lickety-split. 

A cousin to "Is there a God?" but without the fables and myths attached, at the very least simply asking what is the meaning of life indicates a healthy amount of native intelligence. Yet I wonder where these natives are, since I meet so few of them these days. Are they at home, pondering?

Most people I meet are busy drowning out the question with the noise and hubbub of everyday activities. Running around doing things keeps those deep thoughts away, at least for the people I call "human doings." Whereas the lucky few who understand the lack of any meaning other than to just live it -- well, they just "be," which is how they got their name. (See illustration above.)

Marriage between beings and doings is sometimes difficult, especially when planning a European vacation.

Joe Ain't Kidding: He Wants the Black Vote

These days, and I do mean these days, Joe is running after the black vote with a vengeance. After a lifetime of making racist statements, last weekend he gave the commencement address at Morehouse College, a historically black institution. His speech included the following unfortunate statement: "Many of you graduates don’t know me, but check my record, you’ll know what I’m saying I mean from my gut." 

So I guess this was from his gut: In 2007, then-Sen. Biden said about then-Sen. Barack Obama: “I mean, you got the first mainstream African American who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy. I mean, that’s a storybook, man.” 

My favorite part of that quote is when he says "that's a storybook, man." As in it must be fiction, it can't possibly be real. But wait, there's more from the gut: In May of 2020 he told a group of black students, "If you have a problem figuring out whether you're for me or Trump, then you ain't black." (Everyone knows that blacks have poor grammar.)

And I guess it was also from his gut when in August 2020, he told a gathering of black and Hispanic journalists: “Unlike the African American community, with notable exceptions, the Latino community is an incredibly diverse community with incredibly different attitudes about different things.”  (All blacks think alike, ya know?)

The same day he was at Morehouse College, he later attended a dinner of the Detroit chapter of the NAACP and told the crowd of 4,600 attendees that their organization is the first one he ever joined. (Ha, ha!) He also asked them if Trump won a second term, "Who do you think he'll put on the Supreme Court? You think he'll put anybody who has a brain?" So Brett Kavanaugh, Neil Gorsuch and Amy Coney Barrett are all brainless according to Joe, who by the way thinks Kamala Harris is doing a brilliant job. 

Discuss.

Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me

Recently, my husband and I spent an enjoyable dinner out with friends. There were six of us at the table, and most of the time was spent sharing personal anecdotes and laughing. Still, we were somewhat on edge as we had been warned by the host to "stay away from politics," because one third of our party were Democrats and two-thirds were Republicans.

Day by day, the list of permissible topics of conversation is shrinking. Certainly one does not discuss religion, Lord knows! But now added to the list, along with politics, are sexuality, the ongoing wars in Israel and Ukraine, campus protests, Covid vaccinations -- in fact anything at all to do with anything at all of any importance going on in the world. It's limiting, to say the least, but it assures that nobody will get up and storm out in a huff.

Meanwhile, online it's like the Wild West, where instead of gunslinging it's insult-slinging. Since most of the participants will never meet there's no harm done, except in extreme cases where the nastiness causes debilitating anxiety that lasts long after the verbal sparring ends. 

Young people today don't know any better because they were never taught the value of intellectual independence, but it's sad when grown adults ban civilized discourse and are unwilling to entertain any point of view but their own. I wonder, why is that?

Spoiler Alert: Not For the Faint of Heart

I recently saw a disturbing video posted online that has stuck in my brain, like a song you hear that you can't stop playing over and over in your head until you want to scream. It wasn't a monster video, or one depicting the horrors of war, or even a clip from an adolescent comedy starring Will Ferrell. Oddly enough, it was a homemade video showing a recipe for a dessert, allegedly one that is "quick and easy" and "very delicious." Sounded promising, so I clicked.

The ingredients were appalling and I should have stopped there: 1 large bag of Ruffles potato chips, 1 large can of sweetened, condensed milk, 2 large bags of Tollhouse chocolate chips, and 1 large bottle of caramel sauce.

The chirpy young woman making the video instructed you (me) to crush the chips and spread them into a pie plate, then pour on some milk, add a bag of the chocolate chips, repeat the process and then bake it in the oven, and after it cools, cover the top completely with the caramel sauce. Then eat it, like a pie.

Only when she cut into it to get a slice, it all just mushed together like a big, messy pudding. I wondered, why go to all that trouble? Why not just pig out on potato chips and chocolate and milk and caramels? And of course then I wondered, why do that? Could this be a joke, one of those videos you see that go on forever and involve laundry soap and cake batter and sprinkles and glitter and you never see the end result? So I commented, "Looks gross, is this a joke?" 

Judging by the return comments I received, and am still receiving, you'd think I had written, "Your mother sucks cocks in Hell!" The videographer was outraged that I could be so mean and heartless and unfeeling, not just to her but to everyone on the comment stream, a.k.a. "my viewers," who did not deserve to see such harsh words. You need therapy, she said. You must be mentally ill, she said. 

I'm telling you, young people today are simply not ready for adulthood. Anyway, I keep seeing that mushy mess in my head. I might have to seek therapy.