Friday, May 5, 2017

Cave in.

Marvin, can you hear me? Marvin? Damn ... that's just the echo of my own voice. I was wondering why Marvin would be calling out to himself. Marvin!?

Right, so ... I think we went a little too far with the archaeological dig, particularly once we got Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, and Marvin (my personal robot assistant) involved. At first it was just a lark - we took a shovel to the floor of the Cheney Hammer Mill's sub-basement just to see what we could find. Turns out there's a lot of dirt down there. (Little known fact: the Earth is largely composed of dirt. I suspect that's why "earth" is a synonym of "dirt".) Sure, we turned up our share of lost quarters, belt buckles, tie clips and fossilized coelacanths, but that was about it.

Then Mitch decided to get involved, and of course, all hell broke loose. That is to say, he used one of his patented Particle Beam Generators™ to burn a hole through the Earth's crust, clear down to the molten nickel core, which (as you know from watching television) is in a perpetual state of raging ferment - hell fire from beneath the ground, shall we say. To understand why this may have happened, you have to understand the scientific mind. Once you get that, imagine a diseased version of that same mind and you will have some insight into Mitch's reasoning.

Say it twice!Well now, this didn't go over very well, but I suggested to Mitch that his Particle Beam Generator™ had essentially blown the entire archaeological enterprise by incinerating every stratum between the mill floor and the Earth's core; hence, a thousand potential discoveries may have been irretrievably lost. His answer was to devise a crane-like device and lower someone (not him!) down into the newly-bored hole to have a look at the top layers that had been exposed. How did we decide on Marvin? Well, there's that ten bucks I owe him ... and of course, he is much better qualified for the mission than I am. So sure, we put him in a harness and lowered him down into the hole, like he was on a fishing rod.

Anyone who has seen the movie Crack in the World can picture what comes next: A big flame comes out of the hole ten minutes after Marvin took the plunge. Radio silence thus far, but no worries: it's Marvin's nap time right about now, so he would tend to be unresponsive anyway.

Victory dance.

Okay, can we all agree on something, people? Try this: the President of the United States is a remarkable dolt who knows nothing about anything outside of - perhaps - real estate and licensing his trademarks. His grasp of American history is tenuous at best and indicative of illiteracy at worst. He always seems to return to the subject of slavery and the Civil War, perhaps because he is surrounded by crackpot white supremacists who fill his empty head with their hateful opinions and convenient factual inaccuracies. The comments about Andrew Jackson are just the latest example, though when he talks about people like "Sharpknife" Jackson he seems actually to be talking about himself.

Spot my useless congressmember.It's not at all surprising that Trump thinks that he himself could have prevented the Civil War. As a master-level narcissist, he thinks himself capable of anything. And even when he can't accomplish anything, he celebrates and brags about it like he did. This week, when the House of Representatives passed their latest version of the Affordable Care Act repeal and replace debacle, Trump had the GOP House caucus come to the White House for a little victory dance. (My own representative, Claudia Tenney, could be seen in the second row, right behind the doltish Kevin McCarthy, taking selfies with another Republican congresswoman. Watch for that in an opposition campaign ad next year.)

Okay, so maybe that just proves that Republicans - including the massively overrated pseudo-wonk Paul Ryan - never watched Schoolhouse Rock and maybe they really just don't know how a bill becomes law. (They haven't passed a real lot of them since taking control of the House.) Or maybe this is just Trump's way of rubbing our faces in the fact that he got his way this time. It's the kind of tactic Trump is famous for, of course. I suspect if he ever stopped bragging about himself, he'd fly around the room like a toy balloon someone let loose. The facts don't matter - this is an attitudinal presidency, running on gall and braggadocio, tossing steaks out to the base pretty much every week.

It's not a joke. The policy implications of this president will be enormous, maybe irreparable. We're obviously going to have to fight for every inch, and this week the prize went to them.

luv u,