All Kidding/Assad

I’m in 

no position

to comment

on the transition

away

from the al-Assad

family

reign

in Syria.

The criteria 

for hope

is the scope

and sequence

of events

that unfold

as the yet

to be told

story 

of glory

of the rebels’

new power.

As of this

hour,

instead

of al-Assad

at the head

or jihad

far behind,

it’s not

quite clear

what we’re

in for.

The most

uncivil

war

that Syrians

endured

(or didn’t)

isn’t

going

to yield

instant

peace.

Every

ecosystem

is diverse.

So the perverse

use

of force

to endorse

an exclusionary

coarse

is of course

problematic-

not just 

for the 

tragic

victims

of violence,

but the silence

within which

those who

manage

to survive

barely

alive,

can not 

thrive

in oppressive

conditions.

Regressive

politicians

are having

their moment

to foment

and reorient

away

from the mainstay

of the postwar

order.

Chaos

is king.

No kidding.

Shooting

someone

on 5th 

(actually, 6th)

Avenue

came true,

and the

cheering 

and snark

and generally

dark

comments

mocking

what should

be a shocking

and sad

event

meant

that we

are losing

perspective

with invective.

Assad

was a nightmare;

the very

defintion

of evil.

I’m glad 

he’s gone

but this 

does not

feel like

the dawn

of a new 

day.

Those

inured

to the injured

or murdered

concerns

me.

Who are we

kidding?

Killing

doesn’t justify.

No one 

should die

to make

a point.

Insurance Guise

A search 

is on

for 

the one

with a gun

who

in silence

killed

the insurance

head

of United

HealthCare.

A hit job

like the mob

might execute,

on a blue suited

CEO

feels so

unnerving.

But no more

so

than the swerving

headlines

from the front lines

in South Korea

and France,

where 

we look 

askance

at the dance

of power

grabbing

leaders

and the bottom

feeders

who enable.

Is Democracy

stable

or able

to withstand

such demand

as we see

globally?

There is

an odd

sense 

of masculinity

equated 

with brutality

that we see

clearly,

yet feels

unexpectedly

new.

Frustrated

and castrated,

the unsophisticated,

heavy handed,

strong man

brand

is in demand

(with support

of some

women)

and commanding

center stage.

It’s all the rage.

Literally.

This man’s

world

has unfurled

since the war

on terror,

now 

in the west,

where

the test

of autocracy

(and of course

hypocrisy)

in the guise

of democracy

is proving

all that was

projected.

Be wise

to the 

insurance

guise—

the faux

protector,

deflector,

projector,

denying

necessary

procedures.

The teachers

of history

are a mystery:

the anonymous

populous

who never

gave up

on the insistency

of true democracy.

Bananas Foster

It’s Bananas!

By now 

you’ve heard

the absurd

story

of the crypto

bro

with too much

dough,

in all 

his glory,

created 

a story

about 

quite

an appetite

for art.

Entrepreneur 

Justin Sun

paid

6.2 million

for 

“Comedian”

at auction.

The conceptual

artwork

is an exceptional

quirk

in a world

that is 

rather quirky.

The banana

affixed

with duct tape

may be hard

to appreciate,

but it appreciated

exponentially.

Art is weird,

I’m sure 

you’d agree,

in the sense

that it makes

no sense

in dollars

and cents.

We’ve had 

a Campbell

Soup Can

and a urinal

called

“Fountain”,

provoking

opinion

and questioning

definition

of what is

art?

Art fosters

conversations,

not just

transactions,

about institutions,

obligations,

subjugations,

conventions,

and other 

inventions

of the mind

that get

left behind

or issues

not considered

otherwise.

In the case

of “Comedian”

the fruit

of the labor

of the artist

and vendor

(who sold

the banana

at his bodega)

will not receive

payment

from 

this sale.

But the statement

beyond the

“Comedian”

piece tale

was the ease

with which

the entrepreneur-

banana -connoisseur

ate it.

*image: nytimes.com/2024/11/20/arts/design/cattelan-banana-sothebys-auction.

No Complaints

I know 

it’s Thanksgiving

and being

together

indulging

bulging

handle bars

with few

holds

barred

is today’s

primary

activity,

but indulge

me an

addition

to the tradition

of gratitude:

an attitude

of no kvetching

for a day

this last

Thursday

in November.

Being thankful

for gelatinous

cranberry 

sauce

(I mean,

it’s genius),

is great, 

and hate

has no

place

at the table.

But are

we able

to let

go

of the

stuff

we know

is awful,

perhaps

unlawful,

dangerous,

or oppressing

us

just for today?

And the bloat,

the aches-

for goodness

sakes-

who wants

to hear

this stuff?

Enough.

We all

have 

discomfort

of varying

sorts,

and frankly,

I can’t 

stand

my own

endless

reports.

Conceding

needing

healing

or feeling

better;

improvement

and movement

required,

or those

admired

for not

folding

to pressure

or censure

undeserved,

is reserved

for seeing

and acknowledging

without 

complaining,

retaining

the positive

frame

from which

the name

Thanksgiving

can be a

living,

breathing,

being

without

the seething.

It’s rather

freeing.

Happy 

T-day

with no

complaints,

(at least

until

tomorrow)!

Wicked Gladiator and A Real Pain

Not quite 

“Barbenheimer”,

“Wickadiator”

might

be the invigorator

that Hollywood

needs,

as the movie house

bleeds

since the pandemic.

“Wicked”

and “Gladiator II”

are the new

block busters

at a theater

near you.

One a prequel;

the other,

a sequel.

The former, 

a musical;

the latter,

well…

a gladiator

spectacle.

Remarkable

to me,

as I tend 

to see 

connections,

it’s the perfect

cultural 

and political

projections

these titles

unwittingly

mention.

I mean…

really…

Wicked

and Gladiator II

are true

descriptions

of the nature

and prescriptions

of the next

administration.

And a smaller

movie

I saw 

recently,

has a title

that says

it all

completely:

“A Real Pain”.

The Wicked

Gladiator,

who “governs”

as dictator,

is a real pain

and an ass

on top 

of it all.

I’m thankful

for a brief

reprieve

from grief,

as I will 

share cranberry 

sauce

across

the table,

and steer

clear

of the political.

I’m grateful

I’ll be celebrating

Thanksgiving

with family

and friends

whose connection

depends

not on

policy position,

or opposition,

but on disposition

and love.

Despite a real

pain

so many 

sustain,

we remain

capable

of being

better.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Advice and Consent

The trouble

with a pass

for past

transgressions,

including

aggressions

sexual-

non-consensual,

is the essential

foundational

understanding

of power

structure.

A financial

agreement

may quiet

the chatter,

but the matter

still matters

even when

the accused

has denied 

it.

3 nominees

for cabinet

appointees

have had

involvement

and/or charges

of sexual

misconduct.

Leading defense,

justice, 

and education

these department-

head 

potentials

without

credentials

beyond

loyalty and fealty,

in reality

have each

been accused

of having known,

paid off,

and/or

abused

women

and/or

children.

Is Trump 

getting advice

or just

ignoring

the vice

for which

he’s been

found

to be

a criminal?

Gaetz 

withdrew

as he knew

that gory 

detail

of his 

chasing

young tail

and paying

everyone

would derail

his nomination.

It remains

to be seen

if claims

against

Hegseth,

possible

Secretary

of Defense,

who insists

his

innocence,

saying 

there was

consent,

will prevent

his confirmation.

And the latest

revelation

about the 

top education

spot

is not 

befitting of

that 

or any

position.

The wrestling

McMahons

were named

in a lawsuit

that claimed

they failed

to stop

their announcer

from grooming

and sexually

abusing

boys

in the 80s

and 90s.

Knowingly

negligent

allows

empowerment,

including

payment

for 

behavior

abhorent.

3 nominees

in a week

who seek

power,

lose 

stature

hour by hour.

Or do they

stay

around

in the background

doling

advice

with the

consent

of the president-

elect?

Trump

will protect

Trump,

and remain

obtuse

on abuse,

except

if the effect

will infect

his standing.

Somehow

he escapes

accountability,

but the probability

of others

is another

story.

Now he’s got

Bondi,

the blondie

AG

from FL.

To hell

with the

rest.

Remember,

Be Best.

He’ll consent

to advice

to entice

despite

choosing

poorly

thrice.

There’s

little

to no

price

to pay

now.

Ed. McMahon

No,

not that one

next to Carson;

but the one

tapped to run

The Department

of Education.

Her association

with the WWE,

heading

the entertainment

promotion

company

was her claim

to fame,

and her name

long

linked

with the guy’s

whose instinct

has always been

akin

to wrestling.

A lover 

of spectacle

of the not respectable,

Trump’s

BFF

is selected

to ref

the referendum

on education.

The McMahon

pick

for Secretary

of Education

has nary

a hint

of a stint

as an 

educator,

but has been

an administrator

of sorts.

She led

the Small

Business 

Administration

during 

Trump’s first 

administration,

stepping down

in 2019.

She chose

her lane

behind the scene,

helping maintain

his re-election

campaign 

and then 

became

chair 

of the super PAC,

America First

Action.

More recently,

prepping 

for another

Trump

presidency,

she chaired

the America First

Policy Institute

which sought

to contribute,

like the Heritage 

Foundation’s

Project 2025 

preparation,

outlined

policies

for federal 

agencies

shifting

priorities,

including

the teaching

of history.

It’s no 

mystery

why 

I 

(who taught

history)

am wrestling

with 

how best

to deal

with this

real threat

while maintaining 

sanity,

as eliminating

and vanity

are the principals

of the strategy.

So the World

Wrestling

Entertainment

chief

shares the belief

with Betsy DeVoss

that the boss

of the department

of ed.

should be led

by someone

who 

has few,

if any,

ties

to education,

and seeks

to dismantle

it’s administration,

stating

that educating

belongs 

as an issue

for the states.

We’ll see 

how that goes.

But Trump 

knows

and shows

that

he loves

the undereducated.

The Pearly Gaetz

Clutching pearls,

swirls of shock

over the king

of schlock’s

sick picks

to stick

it to

who

ever

he can,

there’s 

consensus

that he’s 

doing what

he said

when he

ran.

Now we’ve got

Gaetz ,

who ingratiates,

insinuates,

conflates,

debates….

the perfect

sycophant

intransigent

who kept 

Kevin McCarthy

at bay

and had 

his day

and night

in the limelight.

Apparently,

it’s loyalty

that qualifies

one

to be

Attorney

General,

no matter

how incredible

or un-credible

the selection.

An ethics

investigation

for sex trafficking

and obstruction

of justice

is just

so last

administration.

Deposing

The Speaker

showed that

the weaker

are the ones

who run

from

Trump. 

What looks

like cowardice

to me

will now 

lead Justice

as  chief

Attorney,

although

he barely

practiced 

law.

With his

shiny

teeth and hair

and not

a care

for decency,

his lust

for power

or just

luster

as the guy

who will

try

anything,

giving him

the bling

in the Trump

ring,

the gates

are open.

Along with

Tulsi

directing

national intelligence,

the oxi-

morons

pile up.

We’re a part

of the global

warming trend

toward “strong

men”;

a reminder

that artificial

intelligence

demands

astronomical

energy.

The synergy

within

the incoming

administration

is like everything

shocking

but not surprising.

With the stench

of Musk

reeking,

wreaking

pain

with insane

people

who are

his personal

best,

the country

now waits

at 

the pearly

Gaetz’

department

of justice

for the 

ridiculous,

now serious.

Scrambled (It ain’t over easy!)

The  price 

of eggs

begs

the question

of what 

decided

this election—

the price that

women

pay

to bear

the cost

of a lost

pregnancy

or 

scrambling

to pay for

the grocery

bill

that

for many

is still

unbearable.

Scrambling

to get

healthcare

or scrambled

eggs without

welfare.

It’s all

fair game

but not quite

the same

when 

playing

chicken

with eggs.

Economic

pain

trumped

the strain

on women

to attain

self reign

or the right

to obtain

reproductive

care.

In a free

and fair

society

economic 

mobility

and bodily

integrity

are intrinsic

to being

free.

I actually

still

see 

possibility

and will

continue

to pursue

the issue.

We’ve

scrambled,

poached,

feeling hard boiled,

and toiled

for too long.

It ain’t

over easy,

and we’re

prepared 

for the sleazy

plays.

But success

occurs

in different

ways,

and I’m confident

along with

a huge percent

of the electorate

that we can

yet

achieve

what it means

to believe

in freedom.

Lost in the Woulds

Would that the first

First

Gentleman-

Elect

reflect

the scope

of change

and hope

and range

we thought

we ought

to be celebrating

after electing

the first 

Black-Asian-

American

woman

POTUS…..

we would

still

be terrified

about 

a result

denied

and would

be bracing

for 

more

terror.

Would

this moment

become

some

abberation

or recalibration

or decimation?

Would we

continue

as who

we thought

we ought

to be

or would

we flee?

Would

chicken eggs

be worth

more than 

human

eggs

without

Citizens

United

and the Supreme

Court determined

to abort

women’s 

reproductive

healthcare

everywhere?

Now that 

we are getting

a sequel,

we would

have 

insured

a different

prequel.

America

the beautiful

is full

of ugly

Americans

full

of greed

who concede

racism

and misogyny

and who 

need 

to be freed

of their pain.

What seems

insane

and inane

to half

of us

doesn’t

matter

to the rest.

Who would

have thought

we’d fail

the test

of what

we were

taught

to matter?

I am sadder

that we 

are so 

desperately

lost,

than angry,

though

admittedly

somewhat

scared.

I guess

my anxiety

prepared

me

a bit

for what

would

have never

been

imagined

until

recently.

The fantasy

of individuality

and “Don’t

Tread on Me”

will always

be

selective.

It’s the stupid

economy,

I hate to say,

that seems

to sway

the most.

We’ve lost

our way

when 

we would

rather

say anything

and do

anything,

no matter

how harmful,

because 

we are

so broken.

Everyone

is broken.

This would

not be

a revelation

had this

election

gone differently.

But apparently,

breaking

bad

with a mad

man

(and lots of

angry

men

and the women

who support

them)

is where 

we are

no matter

how far

gone

we have

lost

ourselves

in the

woulds.