GOP Senate Set to Acquit, but the Stench Lingers

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The political news out of our nation's capital is bad this morning, and if Rosie and I were not preparing to get in the car and head toward Kansas City, I would crawl back in bed and try to forget about the betrayal of America by United States Senate.

Lamar Alexander, a retiring senator from Tennessee who some thought might man-up and vote to hear from witnesses in the Trump circus, instead announced last night that he would vote against witnesses.  That move gave Maine Senator Susan Collins cover to announce that she would support calling witnesses - safe in the knowledge that her vote would make no difference.  The press is asserting that evil Mitch McConnell, the majority leader in the Senate, "gave permission" to Collins to vote "yes" once he was sure that he had the necessary fifty-one votes to prevent an actual trial in the Senate

I suspect the good people of Maine will be more than able to sniff through Susan Collins' little charade.  But that ball is in Maine's court now, so we must wait patiently to see how the Mainers handle their disgrace of a senator.

Here in the "show me" state I shall persist in voting against my lobbyist senator, Ol' Roy Blunt, and my gym rat senator, Josh Hawley.

Things are going to change!

Meanwhile Rosie and I are headed north to Kansas City while the Chiefs fly south to Miami.  The Trump distraction is winding to a close, perhaps in more ways than one, and now the country can focus on something far more enjoyable - like  the Super Bowl!

Go Chiefs!!!

Messiah

by Pa Rock
TV Junkie

It's been quite awhile since I have been sucked into watching a television series, and when I come across a series that I like, I always take my time in viewing it so as to extend the enjoyment.  Usually that means no more than one episode a day.

Last week while searching for something good to watch I came across "Messiah" on Netflix.  The new series has completed just one season - ten episodes - and I found myself so engrossed that  I tossed my old viewing habits aside and began binge-viewing. Two evenings later I had completed the entire first season and found myself hoping that another season was in the works and would soon be available for more binging.

"Messiah" is a very compelling drama that is laced through the very real geo-politics of today's world.

The story begins as an Arab military force calling itself the Caliphate has surrounded Damascus and is preparing for the final attack, a siege that will topple the world's oldest city.  But, as the troops are gathering for the final assault, people begin gathering in the city center where a young charismatic minister of an unidentified ethnic origin is exhorting them to remain calm.  He says that God will protect them and their city.  A few shots are fired from the military, panic ensues, and a monstrous dust storm moves in and envelops the scene.  The dust storm goes on for many weeks and by the time it relents the danger to the city of Damascus has gone.

The young minister, who some start calling "Al-Masih" (the Messiah), gathers a following and begins a well-publicized march into the desert.  His followers grow in number as the march progresses, and eventually they wind up at a remote Israeli border outpost.  The Israelis arrest Al-Masih as he steps through the border wires, and they hold him in solitary confinement in a detention facility.  A Mossad agent arrives to question the detainee, but the agent becomes rattled when it becomes apparent that the prisoner  knows some of his darker personal past.

While the world's news sources are focused on the Middle East and particularly the strange young man whom many are beginning to refer to as "the Messiah," the prisoner suddenly disappears.  A couple of days later shows up in the middle of the night outside of a little church in a dusty Texas border town - just as a tornado is bearing down on the town.  The stranger saves the life of the minister's daughter and many believe his presence helped to keep the townspeople safe.   The town is completely wiped out by the tornado, with only the church left standing, and the population survives, miraculously unharmed.

The next day the FBI shows up and arrests Al-Masih for being in the country illegally.   A CIA agent manages to get inside the US detention facility and interview the strange prisoner - and like her counterpart in Mossad, she leaves rattled by the amount of personal information that he knows about her.

The Texas minister whose church was the center of the literal storm manages to get an ACLU lawyer to come to Al-Masih's defense, and an immigration judge who is lobbied by an official in the White House to deport the problem prisoner, suddenly decides instead to grant Al-Masih political asylum and orders him freed.

Pilgrims are rushing to south Texas, and so are journalists from around the world, and many begin celebrating the return of the Messiah.   But is Al-Masih the second coming of Christ, or is he just a very skilled con-man?  That's the set-up as the story begins to unfold in earnest.

If the Second Coming occurs will it feature lights, and trumpets, and a God-like human descending to earth on a gaudy golden escalator, or will it be a more humble entry?  Will Christ step from the rabble, a man - or a woman, with an actual history, and lead the downtrodden in a crusade against the greed and corruption of modern society?  Will the Second Coming be about golden thrones, and glitter, and collection plates - or will it focus on establishing social and economic justice?

The set-up for this television program, "Messiah," went with the Christ emerging from the downtrodden approach.  And where better for that message to resonate than in the war-torn Middle East - or the immigration battleground of the southwestern United States?

This Messiah is believable, one that engages viewers in a troubled world that they already recognize.  He plays on their histories, their prejudices, and their hopes.   He is a reflection of what they dare to believe - or what they dare not believe.

"Messiah" is a drama that will challenge beliefs and stimulate thought and discussion.  It is also damned good television!

America Beyond Trump

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Call me naive, if you must, but I have the sense that the Trump administration is winding down.  Oh, I know that pundits and politicians have been predicting that fire will begin falling from the skies once Trump is finally acquitted by the Senate and he is able to focus his energies on retribution, but I suspect Trump's wrath will be short-lived and soon DJT will be back to his normal routine of tweeting insults and playing endless golf.

Trump has mentally packed it in and moved to Florida.

The biggest disappointment of the Trump administration has been, to me at least, its lack of a positive vision for the country.  Other Presidents have sought to move the country forward, to create changes that would be viewed as their legacies and stand as uplifting moments in our history.   But Trump chose to pull the country backward to a time of more segregation by race and class, and a time when there were fewer protections for the poor, the infirm, the elderly, and the oppressed.    He claimed to be making America "great," but, in reality, he was tearing her asunder.

America should not be about hatred, race-baiting, hurling insults, mocking the disabled, taking people out, or turning a public trust into a profit center.  For three years now we have been letting Donald Trump define us to the world - and, more importantly, define us to ourselves.  But we are better than that, and we sure as hell are better than Donald Trump!

Trump is heading toward the door, and we must focus all of our efforts on helping him leave.   The House majority must be strengthened, the Senate must be flipped, and the White House must be returned to the people!

For America to once again stand tall, we must all rise with her!

Trump's Phony Middle East Peace Plan

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Part of the bluster that accompanied Donald Trump into office three years ago was his boast that he would be the President to bring peace to the Middle East, and to do that he and his administration would finally resolve the thorny and deadly issues that divided Israel from its highly disadvantaged Palestinian neighbors.  To show just how serious he was regarding the long-standing conflicts among the Jews, Christians, and Muslims in the Middle East, Trump promptly turned the whole matter over to his senior adviser - and son-in-law - Jared Kushner.

And then Trump golfed - and golfed - and golfed.

Trump's good buddy and political supporter, Benjamin Netanyahu, was still in charge in Israel and was ruling with an iron fist.  Problem solved.

But now, a mere three years later, Donald Trump has been impeached by the House of Representatives and is involved in a trial in the US Senate that will determine whether he is allowed to remain in office - and Benjamin Netanyahu is facing corruption charges in Israel and will soon stand for re-election.  Both politicians could use a distraction of the First Order.

And suddenly Trump has a peace plan for Israel and the Palestinians!

The plan is so good - so very good - that Trump shared it with Netanyahu as well as Netanyahu's chief political opponent, Benny Gantz - and today, at noon - just moments away - he will share that plan with the American people and the world.  Netanyahu, for his part in this great charade, will be at Donald's side, wagging his tail like a loyal beagle.

Trump has a plan for peace in the Middle East, or at least for peace between Israel and the Palestinians, a plan that he has thoughtfully shared with the two most important politicians in Israel - and the Palestinians will be able to read about it in tomorrow's newspapers.   What could be more fair and balanced than that?

According to early reports, those leaked by persons traveling with Netanyahu, Trump's plan for peace in the region would:

• Give most of Jerusalem to Israel;
• Allow Israel to claim most of the Jewish settlements on the West Bank as part of the country of Israel;
• Allow Israel to retain control of the Jordan Valley;
• Ban millions of Palestinian refugees from returning to their homes in Israel;
• Create a Palestinian state in the remaining broken-up territory - likely demilitarized with no control of its borders or skies;  and,
• Grant Palestinians a "limited" form of statehood that would be dependent on Hamas giving up its weapons in the Gaza Strip.

In other words there is nothing of substance in the deal for the Palestinians, only more misery and subjugation.  Of course, the Palestinians were not invited to the White House to preview the plan - as the Israelis were, and Trump admitted up front that they probably would not like it, but since the Palestinians are living in misery, he feels they will eventually come around to his vision of what the Middle East needs to look like.

To recap:  Someone in the Trump administration (or the Netanyahu administration) has patched together a "peace" plan that gives Israel everything it desires and nothing of substance to the Palestinians.  And then, to rub more dirt in the wound, no input was sought from the Palestinians.  It wasn't exactly Jimmy Carter at Camp David.

Gather around, America, Donald Trump is about to play at being presidential while Bibi Netanyahu sits at Trump's feet and licks his golf shoes.  Some gas will have been passed in Washington, DC, today, but the Middle East - and particularly Israel and its Palestinian neighbors - will remain in turmoil with all of their issues unresolved and becoming more dangerous by the day.

And Donald John Trump will soon be happily back on the golf course.

Monday's Poetry: "Bridge Over Troubled Water"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

Alexa began the day yesterday by informing me that it was the 50th anniversary of the release of Simon and Garfunkel's last (and greatest) album, "Bridge Over Troubled Water."  She didn't actually say it was their "last" and "greatest" album - those are just things I happen to know through first-hand experience.

I was just a mere lad of twenty-one and a senior in college when a friend showed up at my apartment one day reverentially holding the a copy of the new album by Simon and Garfunkel.  He played it several times that day, and everyone who wandered through was captivated by the beautiful music.  The album was like nothing we had ever heard before.  We knew we were listening to something special - though none could have guessed that fifty years later the smart speakers in our homes would be reminding us of just how special that final joint recording of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel actually was.

Before The Beatles had smashed onto the music scene a few years earlier, albums usually contained one or two "hit" songs that were picked up and promoted by the radio stations - and eight to ten other songs that were basically just filler.  The hit songs were often recorded as singles (45 rpm's) and the other songs on the albums (78 rpm's) were quickly lost to the dust of history.

But The Beatles changed all of that.  When a Beatles' album was released, every song on the album quickly made it onto the radio station playlists and into the hearts and minds of every teen in America.  And "Bridge Over Troubled Water" was that type of album.  It featured eleven songs, everyone of which is still quickly recognized and warmly remembered by people of a certain age.

All of the songs on the album were written by Paul Simon, with two exceptions:  "El Condor Pasa (If I Could)" was written by Jorge Milchberg, Daniel Alomia Robles, and Paul Simon, and "Bye Bye Love" was written by Boudleaux Bryant and Felice Bryant.  The album includes, in order:

Bridge Over Troubled Water,  El Condor Papa (If I Could),  Cecilia,  Keep the Customer Satisfied, So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright,  The Boxer,  Baby Driver,  The Only Living Boy in New York,  Why Don't You Write Me,  Bye Bye Love,  and  Song for the Asking.

And here is the album's title song, one of the most easily recognized and remembered pieces of music ever written:


Bridge Over Troubled Water
by Paul Simon


When you're weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes, I'll dry them all (all)
I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

When you're down and out
When you're on the street
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you (ooo)
I'll take your part, oh, when darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

Sail on silver girl
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way
See how they shine
Oh, if you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind

The Year of the Rat

by Pa Rock
Time Lord

Those with a calendrical bent to their natures are undoubtedly already aware of this, but yesterday marked the start of the lunar new year, an occasion that some of the world refers to as the Chinese New Year - and in this case year number 4718.

Before digging too deeply into this topic, it should be noted that there are many types of calendars currently in use the the world.  The most common is the Julian calendar - and its very close cousin the Gregorian calendar - which is used throughout much of the world including here in the United States as well as in much of China.  It provides a nice common footing for doing business on an international scale and fits in well with the needs of keeping cyber communications on an even keel.

Calendars vary in what they measure as well as in length.  "Solar" calendars such as the Julian and Gregorian, measure days - in this case the amount of days that it takes the Earth to complete one entire orbit around the sun - three hundred and sixty-five plus change.  "Lunar" calendars like the Chinese mark off time with lunar cycles - or the emergence of "new" moons.  The lunar new year is celebrated during the second new moon of the winter solstice.  Mayan calendars, a distinct mesoamerican invention, are also "solar" in that they recognize 365 days as a year, but instead of being divided into twelve months like more traditional calendars of the Julian and Gregorian stripe, a Mayan calendar has eighteen months of twenty days each, and one month of five days.

In addition to being delineated into smaller segments - like months and weeks - many major world calendars also have a religious or nature overlay dividing them into other units often referred to as signs of a zodiac.  Solar calendars are connected to star signs - signs linked to commonly recognized zodiac signs in the night sky of the northern hemisphere.  The twelve signs stretch across one year.

The twelve zodiac signs for the solar calendar are - in order - Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces.

But lunar calendars also have their own signs - animals.  In a lunar calendar twelve animals cover twelve years, and children are supposedly blessed with the skills, strengths, and unique talents of the animal which was reigning over the year in which they were born.  ( I was traveling in Vietnam during the ending months of the year of the Rabbit, and people were talking about planning to have babies during the following year because that year, the year of the Dragon, was supposed to produce the most successful children.)

The lunar animal signs which cover the twelve-year span are - in order - Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, and Pig.

Interestingly, the Mayan calendar, the one with nineteen shorter months, covers a span of roughly 5,125 solar years.  The most recent cycle completed in 2012, causing many crackpots to predict the imminent end of the world.

But place all of that trivia aside for the moment and know that we are once again at the beginning of a new cycle in the lunar calendar - the year of the Rat.  I was born in the year of the Rat - 1948 - and this will be the seventh time that I have spun around the sun during a year that pays homage to the vermin who hosted the fleas that brought the Black Plague to Europe.  I'm not sure how being born in the Rat year impacted my life, but others undoubtedly have opinions on that!

Nevertheless, I'm proud to be a Rat, the first sign in the lunar zodiac, and an Aries, the first sign in the solar zodiac.  Noting those same facts in a blog posting several years ago, I surmised:  "Taken together, those signs are undoubtedly responsible for my immense wealth, unmatched intellect, and amazing good looks.  The signs never lie."

And neither does the Internet!

Have a wonderful 4718 - and be nice to a rat!

Finding Ukraine on a Map

by Pa Rock
Former Geography Teacher

Mike Pompeo may cloak himself in the self-important title of United States Secretary of State, but deep in his political soul he is just a two-bit bully of a Kansas congressman with a strong dose of Christian evangelical self-righteousness..

But Saint Michael, who considers himself a key player in getting things in order for the Rapture, also seems to have his feet mired in the grimy clay of real life.  Just yesterday, while giving an interview to a journalist, Mary Louise Kelly of National Public Radio, Pompeo let his guard down and, temporarily - at least - revealed his true self to the journalist-  and subsequently to the world.

Pompeo, who along with Vice President Mike Pence sees stirring things up with Iran as being key to triggering the "Rapture" and bringing Christ back to Earth, agreed to do an interview with Ms. Kelly yesterday on the subject of Iran.  The journalist, however, maintained that she had an agreement with Pomepeo's peeps to also question the secretary of state about US policies and actions toward the country of Ukraine.

Pompeo was uncomfortable with discussing Ukraine and promptly ended the interview when that subject came to the fore.  After it was over, according to Ms. Kelly, he turned on her with a surprising vehemence and seemed to accuse her of deliberately making an issue of Ukraine.  She reported that Pompeo told her, amid some expletives that included a repeated use four-letter euphemism for "fornicate," that most Americans could not even find the Ukraine on a map.  She said that his tirade lasted longer than the original interview.

Then, to prove his silly point about the geographical ignorance of "most" Americans, Pompeo had aids bring out an unlabeled map of Europe and challenged the reporter to locate locate Ukraine on the blank map - something which Ms. Kelly (who has a master's degree in European Studies from Cambridge University) promptly did.

But Pompeo's point is nevertheless well taken.  Ukraine, a former "republic" and part of the old Soviet Union, occupies a pivotal physical position in Eastern Europe, and Americans should familiarize themselves with its location and the reason it is such an important political and military player in the region.

Not only does Ukraine have a long border with Russia, once a traditional enemy of the United States, it also has a long coastline on the strategically important Black Sea, and borders six other nations:  Moldavia, Romania, Hungary, Slovakia, Poland, and Belarus - and with the exception of Belarus, the Ukraine forms a land barrier between Russia and the five other countries.

Ukraine is the key nation in keeping Russia in check along its European front.   Screwing with US military aid to Ukraine directly benefits Vladimir Putin and his big Russian Bear - and someday it might just blossom into something more substantial - like a Trump Tower in Moscow or a Trump golf resort in Sochi.

Messing with NATO could be serving the same agenda.

Geography, in fact, goes a long way toward explaining bromance between Trump and Vlad.

It's all right there on the map!

(See you at the Rapture, Mike.  I'll be working the grill in one of the taco trucks!)

Heads on Pikes

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The Republican senators who find themselves sitting in judgment on the misadventures and criminal actions of Donald John Trump have no fear at all of the Democrats who are presenting the damning impeachment case.  The Democrats are, after all, just the small potatoes in the large cauldron of political stew.  What gets the attention of Republican senators are the threats of reprisal coming from members of their own political party - and particularly threats directly from the White House.

Just yesterday, as a matter of fact, a beaut of a threat came down the pike Pennsylvania Avenue from the bowels of the White House.  Though no one is saying exactly how or from whom, a threat identified as being from Trump reached GOP senators and warned that if any voted against him, they would find their heads "on a pike."

That sent a lot of word jockeys scurrying to their dictionaries.  Just what the heck is a "pike," anyway?

The most common definition reveals a "pike" as a fish - a long-bodied, predatory, freshwater fish with a pointed snout and large teeth.  And while it took a fair amount of concentrated imagineering, I finally was able to create a mental picture of a long, vicious-looking fish with Ol' Roy Blunt's deeply furrowed face enhanced by Freddie Mercury's jackass teeth.  It was easy to see why Republican senators would be fearful of having their heads on pikes!

Another internet dictionary source suggested that a "pike" was a member of the Pi Kappa Alpha social fraternity that is represented on many college campuses.  Because many male Republican senators already have their heads sitting atop the aging bodies of vacuous frat boys, I doubted that was the definition that I was seeking.

But then my perusal of decapitation literature led me further afield into the realm of medieval torture.  Back in the Dark Ages, long before television and Facebook, people had to get their laughs in other ways, and sometimes that involved the torture and butchering of their fellow human beings.   A standard form of warning several hundred years ago was to lob off the heads of enemies and then prominently display them on spikes.

But why not say "spike?"  What the heck was a "pike?"

Finally, I came across another dictionary site which described a 'pike" as a "long, spear-like weapon that infantry troops used in the medieval and Renaissance eras.

And that made sense.  The Trump administration was threatening to decapitate GOP senators who were insufficiently loyal and to place their heads on the ends of war spears - as a warning to others to never deny Jesus Trump.

After all of the work involved in figuring out exactly what this threat meant, I quickly surmised that it could not possibly have been the work of a person with a fourth grade vocabulary, so someone else was making threats in the boss's name.  But who?

I'm not saying that this dark ages' threat came from someone who is a regular at the never-ending game of Dungeons and Dragons that is being played in the most remote corner of the White House basement by witch and warlock wannabes who should be upstairs writing press releases and plotting against immigrants and people of color.  No, I'm not saying that at all.    But anyone who does say that had best be careful because they could wind up with their head on a pike and a mouthful of Freddie Mercury's teeth!

The Trump White House does not play games - at least outside of the basement!

Diagnosis: Headache

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Lots of organizations and countries send their boldest and brightest to the annual World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland - but not the United States of America.  We send Trumps.   Donald and his daughter, Ivanka, are there representing us.  Donald is showing the world his big brain, and Ivanka is there to model clothes and occasionally say inane things in defense of her inane father.

Donald Trump traveled to Switzerland primarily to draw attention away from his Senate impeachment trial back in the United States.  The trial was really a hoax and a witch-hunt - and poor Donald was such a victim.  Hear him whine world, hear him whine!

But Donald Trump, who has the attention span of a flea at the dog pound, could not stay on topic.  He also went on a rant praising Elon Musk and American inventiveness - which included praise of Thomas Edison as well as the invention of the wheel - which he seemed to be crediting to the United States.  You name it, Trump had an opinion - that's the curse of being born with a big brain.

And then a reporter, Weijia Jang of CBS, asked Trump about the eleven US service members who were air-lifted out of Iraq after Iran attacked their bases last week.  Trump had initially reported no US casualties, and he was not about to backtrack on that pronouncement.  The Pentagon had stated that eleven US service members had to receive medical attention outside of Iraq as a result of the attack.  The CBS journalist wanted Trump to clarify.

Jang said, "Initially, you said repeatedly to Americans that after Iran retaliated for the Soleimani strike no Americans were injured.  We now know at least eleven US servicemen were airlifted from Iraq.  Can you explain the discrepancy?"

"No," Trump responded.  "I heard they had headaches and a couple of other things.  But I would say, and I can report, it is not very serious."  And then he dug in deeper:  "I don't consider them to be very serious injuries relative to other injuries that I've seen.  I've seen what Iran has done with their roadside bombs to our troops.  I've seen people with no legs and no arms . . . I can consider them to be really bad injuries.  No, I do not consider that to be bad injuries."

Nobody is arguing that the loss of limbs is not serious, but to minimize things like concussions and traumatic brain injuries as just "headaches" is willful neglect of our troops and a tragic denial of what they have endured.    These "headaches" that our troops are suffering are tearing families apart and precipitating domestic violence, poverty, crime, homelessness, and suicide.

It's a tragic shame that Donald Trump's brain is not big enough to accommodate more than just his personal troubles - because there are many other troubles in the world that could use his attention.
Sometimes a "headache" requires a helluva lot more than just a couple of aspirins and a nap.  Sometimes a "headache" can be symptomatic of severed or damaged ties with reality that can play out across many years and countless lives.

A missing limb can often be replaced, but a damaged brain may be far more problematic.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

by Pa Rock
Reader

"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" is a brilliant work of fiction.  It tells the story of a fifteen-year-old boy named Christopher who, while walking alone in his neighborhood late one night, comes across his neighbor's dog lying on the ground with a pitchfork protruding out of its side.  The dog, a standard-sized French poodle named Wellington, is dead - murdered by an unknown party.   Christopher, who loves animals, decides that he is going to solve the mystery of who killed Wellington, and, while he is at it, he is going to write a book about his investigation.

And that set-up should be enough for this story to proceed to some sort of satisfying conclusion, but with Christopher John Francis Boone, nothing is ever simple.  Christopher is autistic, and while that condition provides some advantages for detective work - such as being highly focused and extremely logical - it also complicates his life in other ways.    Christopher does not like to be touched - or to function in close proximity to other people, especially people whom he does not know, and his experience in functioning outside of his school and his home - on his own - is very limited.   He can also be uncomfortably direct in his statements and questions.

"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" is, in effect, one book with two authors.  It is in reality a novel written by Mark Haddon, a talented young author, children's author, and screenwriter who at one time worked with autistic youth.  But Haddon's novel is also a representation of the book that Christopher is writing about the case of the murdered dog.  The entire book is written in the first-person with Christopher as the narrator.

One of the things that interests Christopher Boone is math.  While he is being educated in a special school for children with an assortment of handicaps - and learning to function in the world - Christopher is also absorbed with learning about nature and math.  One aspect of his devotion to math is an intense interest in prime numbers.  Christopher knows every prime number up to 7,057, and because of this fascination with primes, he numbers the chapters in his book by ascending prime numbers.  The first chapter is 2, the second is 3, the third is 5, and so on.  He also halts the narrative at various places to discuss certain math problems, and the appendix is a four-page discussion and resolution of a math problem that appeared in his A Level Math Examination.

In addition to the steady flow of math references, Christopher uses his own drawings to illustrate objects, concepts, and patterns in his book.

During the course of writing his book, Christopher does discover who killed Wellington, and he also unearths some family secrets that set his life in turmoil.  Christopher becomes more independent as he struggles to solve the murder mystery.  At one point he has to figure out how to get himself on a train and make his way to London, and then once in the big city, he has to manage to get to a particular address - all of which he eventually does.

Christopher John Francis Boone is perhaps the most engaging narrator to grace the pages of a book about troubled youth since Holden Caulfield.  Christopher sets a goal and achieves it, and along the way he gets a more secure handle on his life and gives the world a clearer view of what it is like to function with autism.

"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" is a compelling narrative that delivers on multiple levels.  And while there is no standard symptomology for autism. Christopher's responses and behaviors will be recognizable to many who have had first hand experience with individuals on the autism spectrum.

Mark Haddon's - and Christopher Boone's - book is a remarkable achievement, a stark and logical look at the world through the perspective of an individual with autism.  It's a rare chance for many of us to see the world as we have never seen it before - and to be better people for the taking the opportunity.

Yes, reading "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" can make you a better person - if you are up for the experience!

The Only Living Boy in New York

by Pa Rock
Film Fan

Thomas Webb has already come of age in the sense that he has finished college, experienced sex, and is living somewhat of a Bohemian lifestyle which is foreign to that of his socialite parents who reside in a more upscale section of Manhattan.  Yet with all of those accomplishments in the bag, "The Only Living Boy in New York," of which Thomas is the title character, still has the distinct feel of a coming-of-age tale.

Thomas (Callum Turner) has had sex one time with the beautiful Mimi and is badly smitten, though to her he is just a good friend who is making more out of the encounter than she intended.  Mimi (Kiersey Clemons) is focused on a career opportunity in Croatia - and Thomas is suffering from despair.

One day after returning to the building where he has taken up residence since moving out of his parents comfortable apartment, Thomas encounters a new resident in the lobby.  The older man (Jeff Bridges) deliberately and quickly inserts himself into the young man's life and begins to function in a role somewhat akin to life coach and therapist.  One of his first suggestions to Thomas with regard to Mimi is to make himself more interesting.  Other than a penchant for giving advice, the older man's history and motives remain a mystery until later in the story.

One evening while Thomas and Mimi are out enjoying a meal, they happen to see Thomas's father, Ethan (Pierce Brosnan) sitting at a table and nibbling on the ear of a beautiful young woman who is not Thomas's mother.  Thomas relates that experience to his older confidante, and the man suggests that if the opportunity arises, Thomas might consider opening a window and pouncing.

Later when Thomas encounters the woman, Johanna (Kate Beckinsale) coming out of his father's office, he decides to follow her.  But Thomas quickly tires of the game of cat-and-mouse and opts to confront Johanna directly - at which point he learns that she has been aware of his awkward attempts at surveillance, and she has known who he was all along.  The two develop a sparring-partner relationship, and soon afterward Thomas pounces and lands in bed with his father's mistress.

Thomas's mother, Judith (Cynthia Nixon), gets drawn into the story, Mimi begins to sense that Thomas is more interesting than she had thought he was, and then all of the loose ends of the story begin coming together to form a beautifully complicated knot.

According to the Internet Movie Data Base, this is the third version of this movie that has been made since 2000, and while not having seen the previous two, I would still hazard a presumption that this one, by director Marc Webb and Amazon Studios, is the most satisfying.   "The Only Living Boy in New York" is a sharp story with witty dialogue and compelling characters.   The entire cast is amazing, and Callum Turner and Jeff Bridges, in particular, turn-in remarkable performances.

"The Only Living Boy in New York" is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.   I recommend it without hesitation or reservation.

Monday's Poetry: "In a Time of Peace"

by Pa Rock
Appreciator of Life

This is Monday, January 20th, the day our government has chosen to celebrate the birth and life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, a man of peace who was murdered by a man with a gun more than fifty years ago. The man who killed Dr. King feared his ideas of peaceful co-existence in an integrated society - and his skin color.

More than fifty years later not much seems to have changed.

Today "thousands" of angry white men - and more than a few angry white women, many wearing camouflage clothing and face masks, and most carrying guns - big guns - are marching through the streets of Richmond, Virginia, and are reportedly headed to the state capitol where the governor issued an emergency order late last week temporarily forbidding the carrying of weapons in and around that government building.  The men are angry because Virginia elected a legislature controlled by the Democratic Party last fall - and the new legislators have passed a few laws regulating the sales and purchasing of guns.  The laws are not radical assaults of what some refer to as the "rights" of individuals to possess guns, but rather are commonsense approaches aimed at keeping guns out of the hands of dangerous individuals and placing limits on the amount of guns that people can buy and possess over certain periods of time.

But the President of the United States has inflamed these "gun rights" advocates with fiery rhetoric warning that Democrats want to take their guns away, and his flame-fanning has given many the courage to come to Richmond today with their guns and to head toward the state capitol in defiance of the governor's order - an order which has already been upheld by the state's Supreme Court.

And it is entirely likely that a violent confrontation will ensue - as the rest of a more peaceful nation celebrates the life of a man of peace.

Today's poem, "In a Time of Peace," is by Ilya Kaminsky, a contemporary poet who was born in Ukraine.  Like what is happening in Virginia today, this poem looks at the dichotomy of life in the United States as we fluctuate between violence on the streets to making salads for supper.  Our world is so volatile and complex, that sometimes it is easier to just focus on what touches us directly.

But, in reality, it all touches us.


In a Time of Peace
by Ilya Kaminsky

Inhabitant of earth for forty something years
I once found myself in a peaceful country.  I
watch neighbors open

their phones to watch
a cop demanding a man's driver's license.  When
     a man reaches for his wallet, the cop
shoots.  Into the car window.  Shoots.

It is a peaceful country.

We pocket our phones and go.
To the dentist,
to buy shampoo,
pick up the children from school,
get basil.

Ours is a country in which a boy shot by police
     lies on the pavement
for hours.

We see in his open mouth
the nakedness
of the whole nation.

We watch.  Watch.
others watch.

The body of a boy lies on the pavement exactly
     like the body of a boy.

It is a peaceful country.

And it clips our citizens' bodies
effortlessly, the way the President's wife trims
     her toenails.

All of us
still have to do the hard work of dentist
     appointments, of remembering to make
a summer salad:  basil, tomatoes, it is a joy,
     tomatoes, add a little salt.

This is a time of peace.

I do not hear gunshots,
but the birds splash over the backyards of the
     suburbs.  How bright is the sky
as the avenue spins on its axis.
How bright is the sky (forgive me) how bright.

Beauty Shop Gossip

by Pa Rock
Local Yokel

Like most American males of a certain age, I grew up getting my hair cut in barber shops, places that were primarily staffed by men who were called "barbers."  But the years go by and times change - and today real "barber shops" are a rarity.    Many of us have been forced to seek other places for haircuts - and sometimes that involves going into places that were once referred to as "beauty shops," or places where women went to get their cut, curled, and dyed.  They were staffed by "beauty operators."  My mother was a beauty operator, and my sister was as well for a few years.

Now, at least in my little town, places for hair care have merged into shops that are staffed by "stylists" of both genders - and cater to customers of both genders.

The place where I go every few weeks to have my gray locks trimmed has three stylists - an older man in my age range who owns the shop, a young man who has just gotten his cosmetology license, and a lady whose age is somewhere between the other two.  All three stylists cut the hair of men and women, but the primary clientele seems to be more mature ladies who come in weekly to have their hairdos freshened up - or for permanents.    But I have also seen high school boys getting their hair cut there as well.  The fellow who owns the shop is very popular with the older ladies and will go to their homes and drive them to the shop for appointments if the weather is inclement.

West Plains is that type of place.

Today is Dolly Parton's birthday - she is seventy-four - which brings me to the point of this piece.

A few weeks ago I stopped by the haircut place to set an appointment to get my hair cut.  When I entered the shop, the two male stylists were there without any customers, so the older one sat me down for an immediate cut, and the younger one - one of my neighbors - moved in closer to visit.
The older clipper asked me if I had any trips planned, and I mentioned that I was going to Kansas City in April to see Cher.   I had attended a concert from her previous "farewell" tour back at the same venue in 2014, and he and I had talked extensively about that show at the time.

The three of us talked about Cher's age (currently 73), her career, and her propensity for farewell tours.  The upcoming one will be at least her third.  When we had talked our way through the Cher experience, I mentioned that Tina Turner had recently turned eighty - and we took a few turns at talking about her.  After Tina, the subject somehow got around to Dolly Parton.  (It turns out the young stylist is a big Dolly fan.)

I told the stylists that I had seen Dolly and Porter (Wagoner) at the Shrine Mosque in Springfield, Missouri, back in the sixties.  Not to be outdone by my shameless boasting, the older stylist said that he had seen Dolly on the public square in West Plains back in the sixties - singing atop a hay wagon.  She had been with Porter that time, too!

(The late Porter Wagoner was a native of West Plains, Missouri, and our main drag is "Porter Wagoner Boulevard.)

(You did know that Whitney Houston's monster hit, "I Will Always Love You." was written by Dolly Parton - and she wrote it for Porter Wagoner?  Well, now you do!)

Happy birthday, Dolly.  If you would ever like to play an encore performance here in West Plains, we'll have a hay wagon waiting for you!  And while you're here, I know a great place where you can get your wigs freshened up!

West Plains has it all!

Censorship at the National Archives

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The National Archives, once revered as America's premier preservationist of historical records - including photographic records - has now been caught photo-shopping historical images.  Yesterday, on the third anniversary of the annual Women's March in Washington, DC, and across the nation, the National Archives was forced to admit that it had altered a photo of the massive crowd that attended the first march in Washington, DC, in 2017 - a march that had been held one day after Donald Trump had been inaugurated - and a march that drew much larger crowds than those which had attended Trump's inauguration.

In the fudged photo, one that was being exhibited at a National Archives event honoring the 100th anniversary of Women's suffrage, an image of the enormous crowd had been blurred so that many of the signs which had been critical of Trump were no longer legible.  The National Archives apparently had not wanted to aggravate Trump and his supporters, and there were also some excuses made about the need to edit out words like "vagina" and "pussy" so as not to offend young viewers of the exhibit - or their parents.

The large distorted photograph has now been removed, and the National Archives has issued an apology for censoring history.  The agency has promised to replace the photo with an unedited version as soon as possible.

As someone who is both a lifelong student of history and an active family researcher, I find it troubling that the country's most trusted repository of history could be so easily corrupted by a political force.  Somewhere in this Orwellian administration there have to be lines that cannot be crossed - and I had always hoped that the National Archives was one of those sacrosanct entities.

But it looks like I was wrong.

History which has been photo-shopped is nothing more than delusion, and when that happens we might as well trust our historical record to Hollywood.

(Atonement for this disgrace needs to include some personnel changes at the National Archives!)

More Civil Unrest and Chaos Are Headed to Virginia

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Yes, Virginia, there is a great deal of anger and raw hatred surfacing in America today, and much of it seems to land right on your doorstep.

It was less than two-and-a-half years ago on August 12, 2017, at a "Unite the Right" rally in Charlottesville, the home of American patriot Thomas Jefferson and the his classically-designed University of Virginia, when Heather Heyer, a 32-year-old paralegal who had been born and raised in Charlottesville, was run down by a car and killed while she was peacefully protesting the rally.  Eight other people were also injured in that vehicular attack.

Justice, if anything can really qualify as justice for a crime such as that, came quickly.  James Alex Fields, Jr, a 20-year-old man who was involved in the rally, was arrested and charged in the hit-and-run murder of the young woman.  In addition to first degree murder, the charges filed against Mr. Fields included eight counts of malicious wounding and thirty federal hate crimes.

The defendant pleaded guilty to the hate crime charges in order to avoid facing the death penalty.  He was found guilty of the murder, the eight woundings, and 29 of 30 federal hate crimes. James Alex Fields, Jr, was sentenced to life in prison plus over four hundred additional years.

The trial and sentencing of Mr. Fields should have shut the books on a tragic chapter of Virginia history, except, of course, it did not.  Now the Commonwealth is gearing up for another influx of right-wing demonstrators and provocateurs due to arrive at the state capital in Richmond on Monday - and many of whom may decide to come armed.

Last year Virginia elected Democratic majorities in both of its legislative Houses for the first time in more than a generation, and it also managed to retain Ralph Northam, a Democratic governor who had been caught up in a scandal involving his posing in blackface at a party in his youth.  That heady mixture of a Democratically-controlled state has led to some quick and fairly progressive legislation.

Virginia recently became the 38th state to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment, a situation which could lead to the rights of women finally being enshrined in the US Constitution - depending upon whether subsequent court rulings don't render the Virginia vote as being invalid due to a deadline imposed by Congress when the Amendment first began circulating seeking the approval of two-thirds (38) of the state legislatures.  (Congress originally allowed seven years for ratification and later extended it to ten.)

The Virginia Senate passed three gun bills last week and sent them to the House for consideration and a vote.  The bills would mandate background checks on all firearms sales, limit people to being able to buy just one handgun per month, and would let local governments ban guns from government buildings, parks, and certain public events.  (The bill regarding background checks passed with some bipartisan support, but the other two were along strict party lines.)

American right-wing extremists and gun rights groups began exhorting people to gather in Richmond next Monday for a rally to protest the new legislation, and social media, which is being monitored by law enforcement, lit up with anger and threats of insurrection and civil war.

Governor Northam responded by announcing an emergency executive order which banned firearms from Capitol Square in front of the state's capitol (where the protest will be held) for a period of time from Friday evening (last night) until Tuesday.  Two gun groups immediately went to court to get the governor's order overturned, but a circuit court judge ruled against their motion. Next the groups appealed to the Virginia Supreme Court which also quickly ruled in Northam's favor.

Meanwhile the new Democratically-controlled Virginia state legislature also passed a bill outlawing the carrying of any weapons within the state capitol - and that measure has no time limit.

The FBI has arrested what appear to be six domestic extremists in the last couple of days, at least three of whom planned on attending the protest rally in Richmond.

It's sad, and it's regrettable, and it is also quickly becoming everyday life in Trump's America.  Right-wing politicians and gun groups take whatever action they need to keep themselves safe, but when it comes to the rest of us, duck and cover!

It's time to hunker down, Virginia, because they're back!!!

Witness Reciprocity: Send in the Clowns

by Pa. Rock
Citizen Journalist

With the United States Senate formally entering impeachment mode and preparing to begin a trial next week that could result in Donald Trump being removed from office, there is now an intense focus forming on how the trial will actually operate.  The biggest issue that remains outstanding is whether the Senate will allow witnesses to be called, or whether Mitch McConnell's view that the House case should be presented and voted on as-is will prevail.

The House impeached Donald Trump on two articles, even though most of the witnesses that it wanted to hear from were blocked from testifying by Trump himself.  Now, one of those potential witnesses, former National Security Adviser John Bolton, has indicated that if he is subpoenaed to the senate trial he will show up and testify - regardless of whether Trump grants him permission to do so or not.

Bolton's volunteering to testify has put several Republican senators in an uncomfortable position.  They were all set to politely acquit, but now Bolton has upended that charade.   If GOP senators don't hear what he has to say, the folks back home may rightfully assume that the fix was in all along and their senators actually had no interest in due process.

So a few Republican senators are waffling.  Do they continue to do the bidding of the White House and Mitch McConnell, or should they refocus onto doing their actual jobs?

This week Senator Ted Cruz of Texas, the smartest guy in the room only if the room is otherwise empty, came up with a novel solution, an idea that McConnell is threatening to adopt.  Cruz proposed a notion of "witness reciprocity" where Democrats to could call witnesses to testify and for each one they called, Republicans could also call a witness.

The imminent threat seemed to be that if Democrats were insistent on hearing from John Bolton, Republicans would take up a Trump suggestion and call Hunter Biden as their witness.  There was even some talk that Old Joe himself might be called on to testify.

Joe and Hunter Biden both deny any involvement in the internal business or government affairs of Ukraine, although Hunter was on the board of directors of one Ukrainian bank, a paid position that some argue he received because of who his father was rather than through any unique banking skills that he, himself, might have had.

Joe Biden has indicated that he would not honor a subpoena because the impeachment trial is about Trump - and not Joe Biden.  It is unclear whether Hunter Biden would testify or not.

But John Bolton would, and, in fact, he seems eager to do so.

So play your games, senators, because America deserves to hear from Trump White House insiders.  Subpoena Bolton, and White House Chief of Staff Mick Mulvaney, and Lev Parnas, and Rudy Giuliani.   If the GOP senators want to call officials with actual knowledge of what was occurring between the Trump administration and the Ukraine - the more the merrier.  And if Hunter Biden is hauled in to testify, reciprocate with Ivanka, or Jared, or Beavis and Butthead.  If the GOP wants a circus, they may have to sacrifice a few of their own clowns along the way.

Trump Trial to Begin Tuesday

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The long-awaited Senate trial for our impeached leader, Donald John Trump, now looks as though it will begin next Tuesday.  The 100 sitting U.S. Senators will be sworn in later today as jurors for the trial, and Chief Justice John Roberts will also take an oath before he assumes his role as the presiding officer in the trial.

House Speaker Nancy Pelosi has named seven House "managers" who will be tasked with presenting the House impeachment findings to the jurors of the Senate.   The "evidence" will be somewhat limited because Trump blocked many potential witnesses from appearing before the House impeachment committees.

It would take a vote by two-thirds of the Senate (67 members) to remove Trump from office, an unlikely eventuality when 53 of the sitting senators currently identify with the Republican Party.  There are 45 elected Democrats and two Independents.  The "Independents" are Senator Angus King from Maine and his neighbor, Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont.

Trump has been providing the majority Republican Party with his views on how the trial should be conducted, and he is now lobbying to have the entire affair "dismissed" out-of-hand, something that Majority Leader Mitch McConnell has indicated will not happen.

McConnell, being the Majority Leader, will actually be providing more direction for the trial than Chief Justice Roberts.   The Republican leaders in the Senate are pushing to have a quick trial, without the bother of witnesses, and with an absolute minimum of public scrutiny.  Yesterday Senator Ol' Roy Blunt, who represents the lobbyists of our nation's capital, stated that neither C-SPAN nor any of the major networks will be allowed access to the trial.  And Senator Lindsey Graham who commands the Southern Belle and Disney Princess vote complained that he wanted to "end this crap as quickly as possibly."  But it is also beginning to look as though a few Republican senators may join in a Democratic push to have witnesses and some semblance of a real trial.

It was announced this morning that senators will not be permitted to carry their cellphones into the Senate chamber during the trial, nor will they be allowed to talk to reporters.  It is unclear at this time whether the First Amendment has been stricken from the Constitution permanently or if these are just temporary measures.

So, for now at least, there will be no witnesses (they hope), no cameras, no cellphones, no chatting with reporters, and it's all crap anyway.  Welcome to the GOP version of what an impeachment trial is supposed to look like when it's against one of their own!

The Chief Justice might want to pack a few snacks and bring along a paperback book or two!

Stop-Loss

by Pa Rock
Film Fan

One of the saddest aspects of the Trump administration is that by being so vengeful and corrupt, it tends to make people forget just how awful the administration of George "Dubya" Bush (and Dick Cheney) was.  And that is just sad because when it came to being despicable leaders, Bush and Cheney were definitely out there breaking new ground.

After Bush and Cheney were elected (kinda, sorta) in 2000, but before they were sworn into office, Dick Cheney was in contact with US intelligence agencies seeking out reports and materials that they had concerning Iraq.  The Iraqis had embarrassed Bush's father in the brief war that he threw against them, and the country was in a strategic location with regard to Middle East oil routes - and Cheney, still on the Halliburton payroll, was focused on enhancing the US position in international oil markets.

Bush and Cheney entered their offices in January of 2001 with a hidden agenda to stir things up in the Middle East, and particularly in Iraq.   Eight months later, after a group of Saudis pulled off the 9/11 attacks against the US, the Bush regime promptly began readying itself for the war it had long been seeking - a war with Iraq, which quickly expanded into a wider war with Afghanistan.  The Saudis, whose citizens attacked the United States, sat back smiling and prepared to play an even stronger role in the world's oil economy.

In hindsight many Americans would probably accept the fact that George Bush was neither a great intellect nor an average military tactician.  The war was primarily organized and carried out at the desk of Dick Cheney.  Cheney realized that if America was to prevail in this combat endeavor, it had to avoid letting the war in the Middle East become as unpopular with the public as the Vietnam war had been.  He was all about creating and maintaining a good public relations front in the war.

And Bush, little more than a yammering idiot, made it known that the Middle East war was not anything like Vietnam - and Americans should compare it to World War II.

One thing that Cheney did was to keep the focus off of the American war dead.  Journalists were forbidden to go near the planes that returned to Dover Air Force Base carrying the flag-draped caskets of the young Americans who had been killed  in the Middle East - and pictures of the caskets were  completely forbidden.  Things kept hidden were less immediate and real to the American public.

Another area of concern that had plagued the US war effort in Vietnam was the draft, and though  America desperately needed more young bodies to fight for it's Middle Eastern oil supply and shipment routes, Cheney was adamant that there be no draft.  To create a pool of skilled bodies to ship to the war, the administration came up with a policy that it called "Stop-Loss," a clever stratagem which essentially recycled combat veterans back into combat - often against their will.  A young person might come home after a bloody tour expecting to be released from the military service, as per the agreement that he or she had signed going into the meat grinder, but suddenly they were handed a notice that their term of enlistment had been extended and they were headed back to the war.

There was no draft, but youngsters who were coming home with intense emotional scars, and sometimes physical wounds as well, were being patched up and sent back into combat.  It was literally horror upon horror.

(From 2005 through 2012 I was a mental health counselor at four different military installations, three stateside and one overseas, and I can personally attest to the severity of the emotional and mental damage that our troops and their families were suffering.)

Last night I watched a war movie from that period of our history.  "Stop-Loss" was filmed in 2008 and had as its primary focus the aforesaid policy that the Bush administration had implemented as a "back-door" draft.  The movie focused on three young men who had just returned to their hometown in rural Texas following a tour in Iraq.   The three marched into town in a big parade, got drunk at a community party at a local bar, got into a classic bar fight, and then spent the next few days  generally unwinding and beginning to fall apart before reporting back to their unit the following week.

The three soldiers were played by Ryan Philippe, Channing Tatum, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt.  Philippe's character wanted out of the service, Tatum's wanted to stay in but sought a special reward for doing so, and Gordon-Levitt's wanted to stay under any conditions.  But he Army had its own plans.  Instead of carefully evaluating these men and making some careful decisions about what was in their best interest, the military expeditiously made decisions that were in its best interest.

Tatum got what he wanted - as assignment to sniper school - and was happy to stay in, though that action ended the long-term relationship that he had with his girl.  Joseph Gordon-Levitt fell into a liquor bottle and couldn't get out.  His new marriage fell apart, and the military, the one for which h had fought valiantly for over a year, gave him a Bad Conduct Discharge.  And Philippe was the saddest case of all.  He just wanted out - and his commanding officer, Timothy Olyphant, instead informed the young sergeant that the President of the United States had seen fit to extend his service involuntarily and that he would soon be returning to Iraq.  He had been "stop-lossed."

And that was all just in the first twenty minutes or so of the movie.  From there on the action centered on their lives as they quickly unraveled and fell apart.  Their situations were riveting - and they were very, very real.  They were the guys who had sat in my office crying about alcohol drug dependence, nightmares, flashbacks, cheating wives and broken marriages, and buddies closer than brothers who had died, or been injured, or mentally unwound while trying to win a war that none of them understood or knew how to justify.

"Stop-Loss" is a very intense movie that gives a tragically real representation of the young people who were caught up in the repeated deployments into that awful war.  It definitely is not for the faint-of-heart.  By the time the credits rolled, I was beginning to experience my own PTSD symptoms.

One Million Moms are Becoming a Damn Joke - and so is Paula White!

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Last month Hallmark found itself in the midst of a controversy when an evangelical Christian group calling itself "One Million Moms" got all self-righteous and indignant over a Hallmark television ad which featured a same-sex marriage.  Heavens to Betsy Ross those mothers were offended!  They. did not want their spawn exposed anything that portrayed gay individuals as "normal."  What the heck was the world coming to!

One Million Moms is a division of a broader evangelical Christian grouping calling itself the American Family Association (AFA) which has been labeled a "hate group" by the civil rights and liberties watchdog group, the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC).

Hallmark initially responded by pulling the offending commercial, but then after some rational thought - and perhaps some quick polling - had a change of heart and put it back up.  Those mothers probably bought their greeting cards at the dollar stores anyway!

But you can't keep a good hate group down.

Now One Million Moms have mustered their rage and are taking on the hamburger giant, Burger King!  The burger chain recently posted a commercial in which a man bites into one of it's new meatless "Impossible" burgers and responds with "Damn, that's good."   And One Million Moms polished their stingers for a mass attack, targeting the commercial for its use of a "cuss" word.

Puh...leeze!

First of all, the offending word, in this case "damn," has been a fairly acceptable part of the national vocabulary ever since Margaret Mitchell stuffed it into Rhett Butler's fictional mouth nearly a century ago when she had him tell Scarlett O'Hara that he frankly did not give a damn!

So what made these million mothers so damn mad in the first place?  Could it be that with every phony show of outrage, the American public gets curiouser and curiouser about them, and the things that America is learning about One Million Moms is not fitting in well with the image that the group is trying to project.

Americans are beginning to learn that One Million Moms has a functioning staff of about one individual, and her name is Monica Cole.  Anything emanating from the group has her prints all over it - and, in fact, she seems to be the entire home office.

And the clear implication from the group's name alone appears to indicate a membership of at least one million angry mothers.  Again, puh...leeze!  Here is one big clue, the organization's official Twitter account (@1milmoms) has a following of 4,710 as of this morning - and you have to assume that some of those are spies from the press and the outside world who want to monitor this group of whack-job extremists.

But keep this standards high, Monica - and anyone else who is actually in the group!

Here is what One Million Moms officially released regarding Burger King:

"Burger King's Impossible Whopper ad is irresponsible and tasteless.  It is extremely destructive and damaging to impressionable children viewing the commercial - we all know children repeat what they hear."

Well, damn.

And I guess we are all left to wonder why a million angry mothers did not get bent out of shape at all when Donald Trump's "grab them by the pussy" remark on  Access Hollywood made its way into countless American homes - where it bounced off of the ear drums of children everywhere.

Of course Trump can say whatever he wants because he is scheduled to ride into Armageddon on a big golden horse - next to Jesus.   But that evangelical fantasy, promoted by Trump personal spiritual adviser Paula White, will have to wait for another Ramble because Pa Rock's hand cramps are acting up.

Heal me, Paula, heal me!

Monday's Poetry: "In Dreams"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

This weekend I had the opportunity to watch director David Lynch's 1986 cult classic film, Blue Velvet, a twisted look at some oddball crime which was being perpetuated in a fictional North Carolina logging community called Lumberton, a town that would have seemed more realistic if it had claimed to be located in Oregon or Washington rather than North Carolina.  The story revolved around a college student, Jeffrey, who came home to be with his family when his father was hospitalized after suffering a heart attack.  Jeffery was played by Kyle McLachlan, a young man who went on a couple of years later to play the lead in Lynch's quirky television show, Twin Peaks.

One day as Kyle was walking home from visiting his Dad in the hospital. he stopped to throw rocks at a trash burn barrel.  As he was bending over looking for rocks to throw, he'd discovered a severed human ear.   He turned the ear over to a local police detective, and in the process of doing that, became connected to the detective's daughter who was a student at Kyle's old high school.

Kyle and the girl, Sandy (Laura Dern), involved themselves in trying to solve the mystery of the severed ear.  Their misadventures in detection caused Kyle to become involved with a cabaret singer, Dorothy Valens (Isabella Rossellini), who seemed to be dealing with several personal issues - including a kidnapped son, and a local criminal ably played by Dennis Hopper.

Two songs from the 1970's were pervasive throughout this movie.  Dorothy sang the title tune, "Blue Velvet," at the "Slow Club" on two separate occasions and was strongly identified with it throughout the film.  The other song was a Roy Orbison classic.  One of the campiest points in the film occurs when a gangster named Ben (Dean Stockwell) suddenly held a mechanic's light up next to his face and began lip-syncing Orbison's "In Dreams."  Later in the movie Dennis Hopper also lip-synced the same song.  Those two songs, "Blue Velvet" and "In Dreams," helped define the strange characters who populated this very unique film.

This is perhaps my favorite Roy Orbison song of all time.


In Dreams
by Roy Orbison

A candy-colored clown they call the sandman
Tiptoes to my room every night
Just to sprinkle star dust and to whisper
"Go to sleep, everything is alright"

I close my eyes and then I drift away
Into the magic night, I softly say
A silent prayer like dreamers do
Then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you

In dreams I walk with you
In dreams I talk to you
In dreams you're mine all of the time
We're together in dreams, in dreams

But just before the dawn
I awake and find you gone
I can't help it, I can't help it if I cry
I remember that you said goodbye

It's too bad it only seems
It only happens in my dreams
Only in dreams
In beautiful dreams

Smarter than a Sweatshirt

by Pa Rock
Spelling Fool

I am a naturally good speller, it is a talent that I have always had, and one that continues to pop up among my descendants.  Grandson Boone won his class spelling bee every year from kindergarten through 8th grade - and Granddaughter Olive, currently a second-grader, can out-spell many adults.  A dictionary really isn't necessary if there is a Macy in the room - but my family had one anyway.

My parents noticed this gift of mine at an early age, and I clearly remember how proud my mother was when she brought home our first family dictionary.  I was in the third grade and I immediately curled up in a corner and began thumbing through the thick volume with the very thin pages.  I was looking for the longest words so that I could learn how to spell them!

My third grade teacher at the Goodman (Missouri) Elementary School was Miss Melva Foley.  (I did a posting on her in this blog several years ago.). Miss Foley had a game that she would play at the chalkboard on rainy days when we could not go outside for recess.  She would print a long word on the board and then we, myself and the other students, would make careful lists of all of the individual words that we could make from her long one.  I usually won - it was a game that I really got into.

When my mother brought home the new dictionary I wanted to find a superior word to give to Miss Foley for her rainy day game.  The longest word that I found in that old Webster's was "spondylotherapeutics."  I remember the word and the spelling to this day - although Google does not!

It was also in Miss Foley's third grade class at the Goodman Elementary where my classmates and I learned the states and capitals.  Another gift that year was a states and capitals "machine" that my dad brought home one day.  I have no idea where he found the small metal contraption, but remember it well.  It could be held in one hand and operated with the other.  A small metal handle was pulled and reels inside spun - and the names of four states were revealed in open windows.  Above those windows under flip tabs were the names of the capitals.  Players guessed (or knew) the capitals, and then lifted the tabs to see in they were right or not.  It was a "Skinner" machine of sorts that provided immediate feedback and the positive reinforcement that comes with getting something right - even if no one else knew it but the player.

Obviously I became a whiz at states and capitals.  Combine that with my innate spelling abilities and I was headed toward a career of map or globe-making with the National Geographic Society.  (Lord, how I wish that I had not missed that bus!)

I learned to spell the names of lots of places, both domestic as well as international.  Santa Fe may have been the capital of New Mexico, but I pushed on and mastered the correct spelling of Albuquerque before spelling Albuquerque was cool.  I also learned to spell Juneau before Alaska even became a state, and I could spell my way along the Mexican border from Tijuana to Chihuahua to Ciudad Juarez.   I could also spell the capital cities of Tegucigalpa (Honduras), Reykjavik (Iceland), and Kathmandu (Nepal).  Did you realize Kathmandu has that "h"?  Bob Seger didn't.

And the states of the United States were child's play for this child.  Two of the hardest were Connecticut and Mississippi (Remember that horrible mnemonic that we were taught in grade school:  M-I-crooked letter - crooked letter - I - crooked letter - crooked letter - I - hump back - hump back - I?  It was harder than learning to spell the damned state int he first place!).

But the toughest state to spell of the entire forty-eight was this one:  Massachusetts.  I mastered it after just a few tries.

A couple of years ago my sister went on a bus tour to New England with a group of old farts.  Going on a bus tour with the Gray Panthers is one of my two ideas of hell - the other is a Disney Cruise (and I've already been on a Disney Cruise, so I am probably destined to spend eternity on a bus crammed with complaining senior citizens!).  But dear Gail, who is now dear Abigail after a recent legal name change, likes bus tours, and on this trip to New England she brought back a sweatshirt for me from Plymouth, Massachusetts.  Actually the shirt proudly proclaims:

America's Hometowm

Plymouth, Massachussetts

Since 1620

And I wore that sweatshirt for two years never noticing that the state contained an extra "s" - until this past week when one afternoon while sorting through shirts on hangers, the misspelling just jumped out at me.  I was so shocked to see it on an official piece of tourist merchandise that one of my first thoughts was that I had been misspelling the state name all of these years - God forbid!  So I hit the Google and was soon reassured that though I may not be smart enough for a career at National Geographic, I am smarter than that particular sweatshirt.

One is almost forced to conclude that my sister brought be a sweatshop sweatshirt, something that was printed and sewn together in some third-world country where the correct spelling of difficult American words (and states) is still a work in progress - someplace like Dhaka, Bangladesh or Ashgabat, Turkmenistan!

But now I'm just showing off!

Running Mates Can be from the Same State

by Pa Rock
Active Learner

Many years ago I was taught an important "fact" about the contents of the US Constitution, and because I learned yesterday that "fact" was wrong, I assume that I probably picked it up in my high school Citizenship class - because surely none of my college professors would have made such an egregious error as they funneled "facts" into my hollow head.

What I absorbed that turned out to be wrong was this:  U.S. presidential and vice-presidential running mates had to be from different states.  I understood all along that was a muddy concept because a person could be born in one state and then spend his or her whole life in another - and then which one would that person be "from?"  But I always thought they had to at least stack the deck so as it fit the appearance of being from two distinct states.

As a point of reference I recalled the Republican ticket of 2000 in which former Texas governor (and sometime resident of Austin, Dallas, and Waco) George W. Bush chose Houston businessman Dick Cheney as his running mate. Cheney, as the head of the team charged with finding Bush a suitable running mate, actually put himself forward as the best choice.  At that time, in 2000, Cheney had been living in Texas, working in Texas (for the energy company, Halliburton), paying taxes there, voting there,  and even had his primary residence in the Lone Star State.

But as Cheney got ready to join the Bush team, he suddenly began changing things back to fit with a vacation home that he also owned in Wyoming.  (Cheney had at one time been Wyoming's only representative in Congress - just as his daughter Liz is today.). This switching of states of residence was done out in the open, and I assumed it was to make him eligible to run with Bush.

It turns out there is no prohibition in the Constitution against having running mates from the same state, but there is an archaic remnant of another intent still lodged in the Constitution which made Dick Cheney's on-paper move back to Wyoming a smart maneuver.

When the Constitution was originally drafted and signed in the late 18th century, it provided for the election of the President and Vice President by electors - as it still does today.  Each state selected a number of electors equal to the number of Senators and Representatives that it had in Congress.  Those electors were generally chosen by the state legislatures.  When the electors met to choose the President, each elector got two votes.   The candidate who received the highest number of votes was elected President, and the person receiving the second highest vote from the electors was elected Vice President.

By the time of the 1796 election political parties had begun forming.  The two major groupings were the Federalists who supported a strong central government and the  Democratic-Republicans who favored giving more power to the individual states.  In 1796 George Washington was leaving office and two his political underlings, Vice President John Adams and Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson, were vying to replace him.  Adams was supported by the growing Federalist Party, and Jefferson was the champion of the Democratic-Republicans.  Adams won the most votes, but there was a split among Federalists on the second spot, and Jefferson wound up receiving the second most votes - setting up a situation in which the country had a Federalist President and a Democratic-Republican Vice President.

To keep that form happening again, party rules came into being which attempted to bind the electors' votes to two individuals so that one party would be assured of filling both offices.  But in the next election, another glitch developed.  Thomas Jefferson and the Federalists defeated John Adams for the presidency, but all of Jefferson's electors cast their votes for Jefferson and his running mate, Aaron Burr - and both men were tied at 72 votes each.  At that point Burr, who had intended only to be Vice President, decided that he might like to be President after all - and the election was thrown into the House of Representatives - as per the Constitution.  Jefferson finally beat out Burr when Federalist Alexander Hamilton, who hated Burr, encouraged the Federalist legislators to vote for Jefferson.

(Burr got his revenge in 1804 when he killed Hamilton in a duel.)

A couple of years later, the 12th Amendment was added to the Constitution which dealt with the election of the President and Vice-President.  It solved that problem of having two individuals on the same ticket tying by inserting a provision that electors could not cast both of their ballots for individuals from their own state.  That provision survives to this day.

If a Texan won the election - as happened in 2000 - then electors from Texas would be limited to casting only one vote for a Texan, and the other vote would have to be for somebody from another state.  And fortunately for George W. Bush who won that election by only one electoral vote - his running mate had the good sense to relocate - on paper, at least - to Wyoming before the election.  Otherwise we would have had President Dubya and Vice-President Lieberman - or Gore!

So if a candidate plans on winning the presidency in a landslide, it really makes no difference if that person chooses a running mate from the same state or not, but if the election is going to be a cliffhanger, the best advice is to choose a running mate from another state.

Capiche?

The Massachusetts-Texas Axis Prepares to Rise Again

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Last week former HUD Secretary Julian Castro dropped out of the Democratic presidential race, but he did not slip quietly into political obscurity.   On the way out the door Castro stopped long enough to give Senator Elizabeth Warren a big, flowery endorsement.  Since then he has accompanied Warren to several campaign events and the two are presenting as somewhat of a pair - or a couple - or an outright ticket!

And while a Massachusetts politician seeking the presidency with the aid of a Texas running mate may seem like a bold move, for the Democratic Party it is bordering on becoming routine.  In fact, if this coupling comes about, it will be the third in my lifetime.

In 1960 Massachusetts' Senator John F. Kennedy, much to the disgust of his younger brother Bobby, chose Texas Senator Lyndon B. Johnson as his running mate, a move that brought Johnson into the White House when Kennedy was assassinated three years later.  That race was close, but Kennedy and Johnson managed to eek out a win against Californian Richard Nixon and the other senator from Massachusetts, Henry Cabot Lodge.

Jump to 1988, and the Democrats again put up a Massachusetts-Texas ticket.  This time the party presidential nominee was Governor Michael Dukakis of Massachusetts, and his running mate was Senator Lloyd Bentsen of Texas.  It was a rough race, and the GOP nominee, George H.W. Bush, the sitting vice-president, chose to go full racist with the now infamous Willie Horton ads.  Bush, also a Texan (though he was born in Connecticut), won that race.

Now we are almost ready to start the 2020 primary season, and the Massachusetts-Texas axis appears to be ready to rise again.

It used to be that geographical "balance" was something that was of importance in forming a ticket, but now with social media drawing us all closer, the role of geographical balance is no longer clear.   It also used to be that the selection of a vice-presidential running mate was one of the few surprises to come out of a convention, but now even that appears to be changing.  When Joe Biden made his presidential announcement a few months ago, it was rumored that he was going to break precedent at that point and name his running mate - and instead of going for "geographical" balance, Biden would opt for gender, racial and age balance by announcing that he was going to run with black Georgia female politician, Stacey Abrams.   However, Ms. Abrams quickly nixed that grand plan by announcing that she had no interest in being Joe's veep.

Several weeks ago when California Senator Kamala Harris surprised the political world by suddenly dropping out of the presidential race, there was some speculation that she was clearing the deck to become Biden's running mate.  Harris did not endorse anyone as she exited the race, but, like Ms. Abrams, she is a woman of color - and considerably younger than Biden, a combination that had at one time seemed to be of interest to Joe Biden.

And while geographical balance may not be the defining factor of the next election, it will likely have some impact.  California will be won by the Democratic presidential candidate, almost completely regardless of whom that person turns out to be.  Texas, however, will be a different story.   If the Democrats win Texas, the Trumps will be packing their bags and preparing to fly to Florida for good!

2020 is shaping up to be a defining year in American history, and it may just become the year when Democrats begin entering their national conventions knowing the complete tickets from which they will be choosing.  And maybe that's a good thing - I'm not sure - but it will probably make the conventions a little less interesting - and that is not a good thing.

Of course. Democrats being Democrats can always be counted on for a few surprises and floor brawls.  Maybe this year to pique the public interest they could vote on a resolution to do away with "super delegates" and return the full power of the convention to the rank and file Democrats who get out and fight for their places at the conventions.  That would be an exercise in democracy worthy of the Democratic Party.

Should the President Have to Undergo Drug Testing Like Other Government Employees?

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

I spent over a decade of my life in the service of the federal government, and during that time there was one humiliating standard that I had to meet on numerous occasions.  A telephone call would come to my desk and I would have an hour to report to the unit's drug-testing center.  It was a random process, but every employee could be assured of being selected multiple times a year for the honor of peeing in a cup.   (And when I was working overseas on Okinawa the testers would have one of their people standing in the stall to witness the act!)

It was a degrading experience, but one for which I could see some justification.  I worked with a wide variety of military personnel, and the government did not want my job performance impaired or compromised through a drug habit.  And I did not even have access to the nuclear codes!

Which of course brings up the point of today's blog posting.  If every Tom, Dick, and Harriet who works for the government has to report for random drug testing, why shouldn't the swells who actually run the government be given that same honor.  They, after all, represent the class of people who make the decisions upon which our freedom and liberty rest.  And, in particular, why doesn't the President of the United States of America, a person who DOES have access to the nuclear codes, have to submit to random urinalyses to prove that he is not operating under the influence of illicit drugs and narcotics?

Yesterday Donald Trump went before the news media to speak about the Iranian bombing of US military bases in Iraq that had happened the night before.  Various news reports commented on Trump's slurred speech and the fact that he seemed to exhibit a pronounced and repeated "sniff" as he spoke.  Some went so far as to suggest that might have been the result of some abuse of drugs that perhaps occurred through nasal inhalation (snorting).  Others noted his pupils did not seem to react to the harsh lighting of the news crews.

One reader of this blog yesterday posted this observation of Trump's remarks to the press:

"What appeared to be an impaired President addressed the nation late yesterday morning. Trump was slurring his words. Perhaps he did not know how to pronounce some words, like tolerated. Tolerated, toleration, to tolerate are not likely alien concepts to his limited vocabulary and spoiled life. Several keen observers noted and posted photographs of the pupils of Trump's eyes; images captured as he spoke.  

"Facing the glare of lights his pupils were dilated and did not contract. Apparently this is an indication of a person using drugs. Some have suggested Trump's possible use of Adderall, a synthetic drug that stimulates the sympathetic and central nervous systems, used to treat attention deficit disorder and narcolepsy. It is a mixture of amphetamine derivatives. "

A stand-up comic named Noel Casler who claimed to have worked on Trump's reality television show, "The Apprentice" for six years as well as being involved in various "beauty" pageants owned and hosted by the New York "businessman" alleged a year ago that Trump abused Adderall while he was working on the set of "The Apprentice," and that he even crushed up the medication and snorted it.

A quick internet search on the dangers of snorting crushed Adderall brought up a list of health risks which include:  anger and hostility, paranoia, psychosis, high body temperature, irregular heartbeat, decreased sleep, decreased appetite poor nutrition, seizures, and stroke - none of which would make for optimal leadership ability.

Others, particularly on social media, have also begun openly suggesting that Trump's slurred speech and nasal issues might be the result of snorting another stimulant:  cocaine.

And another possible explanation of his apparent deterioration in health is just that he is getting older, and perhaps a life of excesses are piling on Donald Trump faster than they would on an individual who had led a more sedate life.

One thing is certain, however, the President of the United States has something going on with his health, and the American people have a right to know if he is fit to hold office.  Trump should have to undergo medical and psychological evaluations to insure that he is up to the demands of the job, and he (and all of his staff and cabinet officers) absolutely should have to undergo random drug testing just like everyone else who works for Uncle Sam.  

If our troops have to pee in cups, their Commander in Chief should too!