Author: Mark Alexander

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The Week In Stupid

as another stupid week comes to a close here in America, let’s look back at the dumbest fucking shit that happened.

monday: you wanna talk about ‘deformed’?

Nosferatu McGoebbels is what would happen if an irrational hatred of all that is decent and good in this world became a real boy.

just take a listen to what this undead shit-goblin has on his mind.

“it’s not a coincidence that when you look at these violent Antifa demonstrations, not one of the people that is demonstrating looks like a normal person. not one looks normal. they’re all deformed in some way in their appearance, in their dress, in their mannerism.”

‘deformed’?

bro, have you looked in a mirror lately?

wait, what am I saying here? vampires can’t see their reflection in a mirror.

 

okay, that certainly explains a lot.

let’s just give the final word on the subject of Stephen Miller to the folks at The Onion, because they’re so fucking good at this.

tuesday: smell that? that’s the sweet smell of liberty

now let’s all watch as MAGA screech monkey Eric Metaxas teaches a master class in the difference between freedom and free dumb.

“‘air quality alert.’ so you’re like, okay, whatever that means. it’s going to be hot and humid, okay, air quality alert. then it says, it tells you, limit outdoor activity. and I thought, who’s telling me how to live my life? I’m an adult man, in a free country. you’re telling me, ‘limit outdoor activity’? so this is Big Brother with your tax dollars, telling you how to live? how dare they? how dare they say that? who are they? who has the right to tell me or you or anyone anything? it’s a free country, I can do whatever I want. but somebody in the government has the temerity to say ‘limit outdoor activity.’”

okay, I had to watch that clip two or three times, just to make sure that Eric Metaxas wasn’t mocking people who think like this. oh no, he’s serious. he’s super fucking outraged to be asked to follow voluntary health guidelines.

dude, Canada is burning to the ground right now, and all that smokey shit is floating right right down into our country. yeah, for your own good, you might want to avoid filling your lungs with that.

oh, you think so? well you can get the fuck out of here with your useful advice, because nobody tells Eric Metaxas what to do.

and this, my friends, is the difference between freedom and free dumb.

freedom is the ability to live your life as you see fit. free dumb is doing stupid shit specifically because someone tells you not to.

this is why so many of these dumbfucks died during covid — because nobody tells MAGA what to do.

so go for it, Eric. step outside and breathe deeply. fill your chest with all that smokey goodness. mmm, feel that tightness? that overwhelming urge to cough up a lung? that’s free dumb!

and while you’re at it, go play in traffic. that’ll really stick it to The Man.

wednesday: attention, citizens! new patriot guidelines have dropped

yes, this is an actual post that the White House put up on Elon’s Nazi Bar and Child Porn Emporium.

okay, the top row is pretty easy to figure out. don’t tread on the flag, yadda yadda. whatever. the bottom row is a complete mystery. what’s the unpatriotic part, being a sore loser? being a sore winner? not showing up at all for the bronze medal? oh wait — it’s being a guy and playing women’s sports. way to be incoherent AND completely fucking transphobic at the same time, White House.

but it’s the middle row that really has me perplexed. wearing a sombrero is unpatriotic? really?

now, I wanted to know if everyone’s gotten the memo on this. so, in the name of Responsible Journalism and Everything™, I asked Google’s janky six-fingered plagiarism robot to show me ‘pictures of Republicans wearing sombreros’ — and this is what it served up: six-time international lap hockey champion Handy Oakley, tarted up for Halloween in Mexican cosplay, along with her boyfriend, dressed as in ICE thug.

they’re such charming people. so classy. I hope the vigorous beetlejuicings this guy is getting is worth the embarrassment of being seen in public with a complete ninny

but the plagiarism robot also showed me this.

and this.

so now I’m really confused.

hey guys — don’t nobody tell Eric Metaxas that he’s not allowed to wear a sombrero, because you know what he’ll do next.

thursday: just fuck off

now, why am I unsurprised to learn that Fox News found object Jesse Watters is a brainless giggling shitstack who thinks rape is super fucking hilarious?

“women on base, you better be careful, HEH HEH. port calls, women, HEH, Asia, you better be careful. because these guys are going to be wild animals and you better watch out. [bursts out laughing]”

shut the fuck up, piggy. what the fuck is wrong with you?

friday: the further adventures of Some Fucking Idiot™

on Friday, some fucking idiot threw one of his most childish tantrums ever — and that’s saying a lot.

the fucking idiot got Big Mad at Canada for allowing themselves to burn to the ground.

I shit you not.

how dare Canada inconvenience us with their stupid smoke? why aren’t they raking their forests? well, the fucking idiot’s gonna settle Canada’s hash, but good. he’s going to make them pay a smoke tariff! boo-yah, Canada!

what a fucking idiot.

the fucking idiot also got Big Mad at that imaginary inflatable Antifa frog who put that skillionty-mile-long slash into his beloved Epstein Reflecting Pool.

look at what Antifa is making the fucking idiot do. now he has to go out and find a vandal-proof liner.

gee, if only there were some way of putting a fucking-idiot-proof liner around the entire country.

then it was time for the fucking idiot to attend his one scheduled public event for the day: a reception for FIFA at his fugly golden tower in New York City.

the fucking idiot used this festive occasion to whine once again about the 2020 election, and also to ramble incoherently about [checks notes] not getting credit for [checks notes again] 250 years? what the fuck?

fact check: the fucking idiot’s father was born in The Bronx.

here, the fucking idiot asks if anyone knows what he’s talking about. the answer is no.

apparently, the fucking idiot’s freakishly tall son is freakishly awesome at handling balls. who knew?

finally, when the reception was over, the fucking idiot, looking extremely svelte, was forklifted into his big boy booster seat on Marine One and flown to his New Jersey ex-wife cemetery, where he’ll be spending the weekend.

and because the press wasn’t allowed at any point to get near the fucking idiot, not one reporter had the opportunity to stand up and, at long last, ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’

how fucking idiotic is that?

this is going to be my closing message for the foreseeable future:

practice self-care. do what you need to do to keep sane. if that means you need to disengage with my daily posts for a while, I get it. this community of ours will still be here when you return.

to all the people who have signed on in the days since the election, welcome aboard. settle in as we all try to deal with the shitfuckery that’s ahead of us.

we are all in this together, and we are all here for each other.

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Donald Trump Just Swung And Missed In The Most Humiliating Way Possible

From Palmar Report:

Donald Trump and his Republican Party are on track to lose the November midterm in overwhelming, historic, and humiliating fashion. If Trump wanted to do something to change that, he could try being a less awful President. But that thought has never occurred to him, and so instead he did what he always does these days: he whined.

Trump gave a primetime speech last night to sell the American people on the idea that… he can turn the economy around? No. That he can fix his disastrous failed war against Iran? No. That he can even so much has fix the reflecting pool that he broke? Not that either. Instead Trump decided that the most important thing the American people needed to hear from him last night was how the 2020 election was stolen from him. No, really.

Everyone knew going in that this speech would be such a lie filled cringe fest that multiple major television networks decided in advance not to even air it. They almost did Trump a favor, because all he did during his speech was to unwittingly convince anyone watching that 1) he’s completely out of touch, 2) he’s clinically insane, 3) he’s senile, and 4) he’s near death. Just how poorly did Trump come off as he lethargically slurred his way through incoherent conspiracy theories? Imagine Alex Jones on a sedative.

. . .

Of course Trump thought that his speech last night was going to convince the American people to demand that the Senate pass his election-rigging legislation, so that he can have a shot in the midterms. Instead Trump merely convinced the American people that the 25th Amendment is in order.

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We Flirt…

I complimented him on his ‘tache a few months ago and ever since then I swear the boy flirts with me—although for the life of me I can’t understand why. Maybe he’s just being friendly and aiming for a big tip.

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Saturday Evening Soundtrack

Miles Davis – Bitches Brew (1970)

I love Miles Davis, but I’m still trying very hard to like and appreciate this one. I put on Miles to relax, and Bitches Brew is anything but relaxing.

I have several suggestions both from here and Reddit on which way to go from here in regard to exploring the Miles Davis catalog, but it seems my CD budget is always getting pulled in some other direction. (Most recently I have the soundtrack to Sweet Charity on order.)

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Why Is It…

… that most people don’t realize that when I say I hope we can be more than friends, I mean we can be strangers.

… that some people tell you I’m the nicest person they’ve ever met and some people say I am a bitch? Well, believe them both because they got the version they deserved.

… that while an apple a day keeps the doctor away, it also keeps most people away if you throw it hard enough.

… that my co-workers have yet to learn that “Fuck that shit” is a perfectly acceptable substitution for “No.”

… that when life feels extra rough I ask myself, “Did you poop your pants,” and if the answer is No then I’m still winning.

… that the other day when a co-worker told me they were mad at me I suggested they slip on a cape so they can be SuperMad.

… that no one is laughing at the Amish anymore? Is it because they’re the ones clickety-clacking right past every gas station?

… that my To-Do List always includes barking up the wrong tree, putting all my eggs in one basket, judging a book by its cover, rocking the boat, and add fuel to the fire.

… that while my mind still think I’m 25, my body says my mind is dumb.

… that when I can’t sleep I tend to think of things like, how many vampires have been run over by people who back up only using their mirrors?

[Thanks, Bob!]

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I Could Live There

But I’d have to do something about walking through one bedroom to get to another.

architecturaldetective – Designed for Mr. and Mrs. Robert H. Stephenson, today’s home is yet another Marston, Van Pelt & Maybury-designed French Norman Revival style home located near the intersection of San Pasqual Street and S San Marino Avenue. The home, like the other Marston, Van Pelt & Maybury-designed French Norman Revival style homes around it, were built by the firm of Thomas & Stephenson, hinting that this may have been the home one of the builders built as his the personal residence for himself and his family. ⁠
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From the street, the home recalls a long and lean Norman farmhouse, with it’s small enclosed forecourt creating a charming entrance garden. Once inside, we are welcomed into a small foyer that allows us access to the home’s H-shaped floor plan, which is anchored by a central living room. From the living room, we can progress into the small study or dining room and its attached service spaces, including a pantry, kitchen laundry room, and staff bedroom suite. ⁠
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The private family wing includes four bedrooms and two bathrooms with staircase access to the attic above. With its expansive single floor design, the Stephenson residence is one of my favorite Marston, Van Pelt & Maybury commissions as it begins to braid together Spanish Colonial and early Ranch style design elements with the easily malleable French Norman Revival style to create a distinctive commission that would help spread the style across the Southland. ⁠
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Located at 2005 San Pasqual Street, the home is extant, yet a substantial remodel in the early 2000s effectively doubled the homes square footage by adding a second story and an entry tower, obscuring Marston, Van Pelt & Maybury’s original design. ⁠The home last sold for $3,550,000 in 2015.
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Project: Residence of Mr. and Mrs. Robert H. Stephenson, 1926⁠
Architect: Marston, Van Pelt & Maybury⁠
Location: Pasadena, California⁠
Source: Architectural Digest, Google Maps, MLS⁠

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Friday Pavlovitz

This mess we’re in? It has nothing to do with politics.

The current President is a court-adjudicated rapist who recently paid nearly 6 million dollars in damages for sexual assault and defamation.

His name appears tens of thousands of times in the Epstein Files, and he has been credibly accused by dozens of women of sexual assault and harassment.

He is a 34-count felon, indicted four separate times, with 88 charges, ranging from fraud to election interference.

The only reason he is not in prison right now is that he has assumed the Presidency and marshalled the vast resources of the office to pervert our judicial and legal processes.

Despite all of this, we still have family members, friends, former friends, and neighbors who would vote for him again right now.

In what universe, in what iteration of this nation over the last 250 years, would a being this bereft of human decency have been tolerated in office, let alone passionately embraced?

In what political movement would rape and treason not be dealbreakers?

The answer is none.

This isn’t a political fracture.

I wish it were, though, as that would be relatively easy to navigate.

We are not a nation, as we’ve often thought, simply positioned on either side of the aisle working to craft reasonable, good-faith compromise somewhere in the humane middle. Sadly, that ship left the port a long time ago.

We aren’t even contending with a blind political tribalism that sees party over country, as the GOP of a decade ago has long since been rendered unrecognizable, abandoning its calls for a limited Government in exchange for unabashed authoritarianism.

The prevailing narrative of the last decade is that America has been fractured by political ideologies, bunkered down in disagreement on what path will most serve the common good. This is a dangerous fiction we need to discard once and for all.

The dividing lines in America have nothing to do with party affiliation anymore.

Just open up your phone, eavesdrop at the checkout line, or talk to your neighbor, and you’ll see the lines along which we now find ourselves:

One side celebrates innocent people being assassinated in front of their children, without due process.

One side rejoices in strangers going without food or medical care or housing, without knowing a single one of their stories.

One side applauds the bombing of foreign school children and the destruction of entire populations.

One side blindly despises other people for their gender identity, despite it having no impact on their lives whatsoever.

One side reduces an entire population to terrorists and drug dealers to justify their swift eradication.

One side conflates whiteness with righteousness.

One side defends the protection of pedophiles.

One side steadfastly worships a felonious, treasonous rapist.

And none of this is about politics; it’s about when faced with the suffering and injustice in our path, whether we will default to compassion or to cruelty.

America’s present divide reveals the orientation of hearts as we move through the world, the story we tell ourselves about other people, and what we want our lives to be marked by.

Will we be bleeding-heart empaths who err on the side of love toward all our neighbors, or callous, f your feelings sociopaths who rejoice in the pain of others because we’ve dehumanized them to the point that their lives are worthless to us?

Will we see empathy as our highest calling as human beings, or as a character flaw needing to be discarded?

One of the greatest lies we’re asked to accept as gospel is that all opinions are valid, that every position is somehow equally worthy of merit and deserving of consideration. We’re often led to believe that in every situation where an impasse is reached, the most humane response is to “agree to disagree”.

Of course, we can disagree on all sorts of issues without that disagreement being a , but there are some things that, as people of faith, morality, and conscience, we simply will not allow—and these things transcend politics.

The days ahead are going to require us to dig beneath the surface skirmishes and into the bedrock of what’s really happening here so that we don’t waste a second fighting fruitless battles that miss the point entirely.

Refuse to be gaslit and guilted for allowing “politics” to get in the way of your relationships because that’s not what’s happening here. This is an effort by people around us to sidestep conversations that call them to accountability for their beliefs, choices, and alignments.

It’s time we stopped pretending that our current national crisis is political, as that only serves to distract us from the far more worrisome truth that we need to reckon with:

We’re not politically divided; we are morally fractured.

We are not fighting legislative battles but a war to stay human or abandon our humanity altogether.

No election result will change that.

No power balance in Congress will remedy it.

No dictator’s expulsion will heal the brokenness of the people around us.

The question is, what will?

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