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Friday, August 18, 2017

Make it spin.

Where's the summer podcast? I don't freaking know. Must have left it in my other pants. What am I, Kreskin? Maybe. I hear HE has more than one pair of pants.

You see, here's the problem with living in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. (And I should add here, it's not the ONLY problem.) It's goddamn hard to stay on a schedule. You can set up your little wall calendar or get one of those day planners at the stationery store. (Personally, I prefer stores that move around, like food trucks. Mmmmmm .... food trucks ....) Or you can vault bravely forward into the 21st Century and set your schedule on some phone app. Well, we've got none of that here. Nothing like it. Anti-Lincoln puts a mark on the wall every morning, but frankly, after a decade of that, it just looks like patterned wallpaper.

I guess what I'm saying is that we haven't posted a new THIS IS BIG GREEN podcast in four months because, well, we lost count of the days. And days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and what the hell - here we are. That's very nearly the truth, but like everything around here, it's more complicated than that. The current episode of Ned Trek is a musical, so we're in production - STILL - on I think seven songs. (Like I said, I lost count.) A couple of them have been mixed. I'm still working on rhythm tracks for the rest. We're testing out a new system, and that's been a bit of a process. Our tops won't spin. Hey ... just GET OFF MY BACK!

Really made your mark, didn't you?That wasn't for you. There was a carpenter ant on my back. I've never been able to understand why they are named for something that is almost the precise antithesis of what they do for a living - namely, eat your house alive. (Carpenters, last I looked, build you house alive.) It's another example of what we call the "Pelican Cove Principle" - naming things for either (1) something completely inappropriate to the thing named, or (2) something you destroyed to build the thing. For example: Pelican Cove was a tony bedroom community that had no pelicans and no cove, so it complied with principle (1). Then there's Applewood Drive back in my hometown - a road built through an ancient stand of heirloom apple trees which were, of course, ripped out to make room for McMansions. You get the idea.

Well, there you go - I wasted another morning, didn't I? That's why we're so far behind. Back to the basement with me.

Brown shirt redux.

The thing about Trump is that he never knows when to shut the hell up. The events of the past ten days put this into stark relief. His post-Charlottesville comments are driven as much by his insistence on being right as by anything else. That said, the man knows how to court his core constituencies - namely, by abandoning any semblance of the traditional presidential role of being the nation's consoler-in-chief and weighing in on the side of white sheets and brown shirts. Classy. I guess that roughly comports with Bannon's avowed strategy of calling out Democrats on race issues, though he claims now to want to crush the "clowns" in the white nationalist movement. (I suspect he's attempting to blow smoke here.)

The Trump armyThere is little doubt in my mind that Trump is a deep-dish racist fuck. His personal history alone is enough to convince any reasonable person, from his early days as a landlord to his vocal advancement of birtherism to his targeting of immigrants, Muslims, you name it. After the attacks in Barcelona, his first impulse was to tweet a reprise of his celebratory comments about General Pershing's participation in America's early 20th Century colonial pogrom in the Philippines - the story about killing 49 Muslim resistors with bullets dipped in pig's blood. What is more bigoted than that? His blood libel against Muslims in New Jersey re the days following 9/11? Perhaps.

Trump's next stop is Phoenix, AZ, where on Tuesday he will hold one of his regional Klan rallies, full of the kinds of crackpots that marched through the streets of Charlottesville with citronella torches and various tattoos. Too soon, you say? Not a bit of it. This tactic reminds me of what the NRA used to do (and may still do) in the wake of a mass shooting; namely, hold a massive pro-gun rally in or near the affected community. You can bet that Trump will have an incendiary tale to tell of how the Antifa counter-protesters were, in essence, outside agitators, at least as culpable as the neo-Nazis he tepidly disavows. I would still say the apple didn't fall very far from the Klansman Fred Trump tree.

Is anyone surprised by all this? Well ... if so, they haven't been paying attention. Expect more, folks, and worse ... much worse.

luv u,

jp