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Not Happening

If Trump/Pence and their little Cabinet of Deplorables® think that half country who did not vote for them are just going to roll over and voluntarily give up the hard-earned rights and progress gained over the last 50 years and allow them to push through their Whites Only Dominionist wet dream without putting up a fight, they’re sadly mistaken.

This isn’t Germany 1933, and the batshit crazy right wing nutjobs who will be running the country come January are not the Borg. Resistance is not futile. This is the United States 2016 and unlike the Germans eighty years ago who had no historical precedent that could warn them to what was happening, we do, and it is our chance—nay, our responsibility—to stand up and say with one united voice, NEVER AGAIN.

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Some Much Needed Comic Relief

https://twitter.com/deanfortythree/status/797124765299318784

https://twitter.com/maggiepriceless/status/797607287288303617

https://twitter.com/Prettylettuce/status/797566989304823808

https://twitter.com/Dean_Nimbly/status/797312348243435520

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A Scene That’s Undoubtedly Being Played Out Across The Country

As we sift through the rubble of Tuesday’s devastation, I fear one unreported casualty of Trump’s election is the destruction it is causing in relationships. The sheer divisiveness, the gaping rift this election has opened in the country has caused many a difficult discussion and unfortunately, I suspect, the dissolution of more than one long-term friendship.

This hit home on Wednesday when I received a text from one of the few real friends I made during our tenure in Denver, a guy I worked with at DISH; someone we’ll call Kasey.

The text contained an image of Chelsea Clinton’s face with the caption that said something along the lines of, “With that face, receiving oral from her would look like anal.”

This wasn’t the first time Kasey had sent me a rude image. We constantly ribbed each other—at work no less—by exchanging IMs that would probably have gotten us both fired if we’d ever been caught. Kasey would send me animated gifs of jiggling boobs, and I’d return the favor by sending him pictures of hirsute chests, each of us responding, “Ewww! Gross!” We had many lunchtime discussions over cheap Chinese food about philosophy, our place in the universe, our supervisor (“La Chupacabra”), and the untenable positions we found ourselves in at work, forming an unlikely bond that managed to survive even after my departure from Colorado. I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that as a friend I came to love him (Ben called Kasey my work husband), but I hold a definite fondness for the guy and admire and definitely care about him.

Anyhow, I texted back and told him “Not cool, man—especially in light of yesterday.”

He responded, “Wow…Mr. Sensitive over politics!” followed by, “I voted Trump. I didn’t think he’d win!”

I was gobsmacked. How could this guy—a pot-smoking Colorado native who regaled me with tales of his absolutely wild youth growing up in Littleton, vote for someone who seemed to be the antithesis of who I thought he was?

I was speechless. I didn’t even know how to respond. Several hours later I sent him this, which probably summed up the sense of betrayal I was feeling at the moment:

His response? “Bold. But isn’t that the same type of ignorant rhetoric—just from the other side? Honestly my political affiliations aren’t strong either way. Bad presidents come and go. Life goes on.”

I didn’t immediately reply. I needed time to gather my thoughts. It was clear to me that Kasey (who has never displayed an ounce of racism, misogyny or homophobia for as long as I’ve known him) didn’t really understand the importance of what had just happened to our country. And being a straight, white, married male in a well-paying job, life for him under a Trump regime probably would go on as it always had. That point couldn’t be argued.

While I was mulling my response, I ran across This Is Why We Grieve and realized it summed up exactly what I wanted to say. I emailed it to him, adding, “I’m sending you this because I was truly and deeply saddened when you told me you’d voted for Trump. You are a dear friend and a valued part of my life, and I could never shut you out, but I want you to understand what half the country (at least the half who bothered to vote) is feeling right now and why.”

I was hoping this might give him some idea of why this is such a big deal; that it’s not just politics, that it’s not business as usual, and why quite frankly, I’m feeling more than a little betrayed by someone I considered a friend.

I received his response a few hours later. I read it and immediately deleted it. It stung even worse than his initial texts. I don’t remember his exact wording now, but he was justifying his conservatism (where in the fuck did that come from?!) and in essence what I’d sent him was just left-wing garbage.

I guess this answered the question of how this man could vote for the anthesis of who I thought he was. Despite our many deep conversations over the years, I didn’t really know him at all.

And that’s what hurts the most.

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This Is Why We Grieve

I don’t think you understand us right now.

I think you think this is about politics.

I think you believe this is all just sour grapes; the crocodile tears of the losing locker room with the scoreboard going against us at the buzzer.

I can only tell you that you’re wrong. This is not about losing an election. This isn’t about not winning a contest. This is about two very different ways of seeing the world.

Hillary supporters believe in a diverse America; one where religion or skin color or sexual orientation or place of birth aren’t liabilities or deficiencies or moral defects. Her campaign was one of inclusion and connection and interdependency. It was about building bridges and breaking ceilings. It was about going high.

Trump supporters believe in a very selective America; one that is largely white and straight and Christian, and the voting verified this. Donald Trump has never made any assertions otherwise. He ran a campaign of fear and exclusion and isolation—and that’s the vision of the world those who voted for him have endorsed.

They have aligned with the wall-builder and the professed pussy-grabber, and they have co-signed his body of work, regardless of the reasons they give for their vote:

Every horrible thing Donald Trump ever said about women or Muslims or people of color has now been validated. Every profanity-laced press conference and every call to bully protestors and every ignorant diatribe has been endorsed.
Every piece of anti-LGBTQ legislation Mike Pence has championed has been signed-off on.

Half of our country has declared these things acceptable, noble, American.

This is the disconnect and the source of our grief today. It isn’t a political defeat that we’re lamenting, it’s a defeat for Humanity.

We’re not angry that our candidate lost. We’re angry because our candidate’s losing means this country will be less safe, less kind, and less available to a huge segment of its population, and that’s just the truth.

Those who have always felt vulnerable are now left more so. Those whose voices have been silenced will be further quieted. Those who always felt marginalized will be pushed further to the periphery. Those who feared they were seen as inferior now have confirmation in actual percentages.

Those things have essentially been campaign promises of Donald Trump, and so many of our fellow citizens have said this is what they want too.

This has never been about politics.
This is not about one candidate over the other.
It’s not about one’s ideas over another’s.
It is not blue vs. red.
It’s not her emails vs. his bad language.
It’s not her dishonesty vs. his indecency.

It’s about overt racism and hostility toward minorities.
It’s about religion being weaponized.
It’s about crassness and vulgarity and disregard for women.
It’s about a barricaded, militarized, bully nation.
It’s about an unapologetic, open-faced ugliness.

And it is not only that these things have been ratified by our nation that grieve us; all this hatred, fear, racism, bigotry, and intolerance—it’s knowing that these things have been amen-ed by our neighbors, our families, our friends, those we work with and worship alongside. That is the most horrific thing of all. We now know how close this is.

It feels like living in enemy territory being here now, and there’s no way around that. We wake up today in a home we no longer recognize. We are grieving the loss of a place we used to love but no longer do. This may be America today but it is not the America we believe in or recognize or want.

This is not about a difference of political opinion, as that’s far too small to mourn over. It’s about a fundamental difference in how we view the worth of all people—not just those who look or talk or think or vote the way we do.

Grief always laments what might have been, the future we were robbed of, the tomorrow that we won’t get to see, and that is what we walk through today. As a nation we had an opportunity to affirm the beauty of our diversity this day, to choose ideas over sound bytes, to let everyone know they had a place at the table, to be the beacon of goodness and decency we imagine that we are—and we said no.

The Scriptures say that weeping endures for a night but joy comes in the morning. We can’t see that dawn coming any time soon.

And this is why we grieve.

[Source]

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Never Happen

If this is going to be a time of healing, we must first put the responsibility for healing where it belongs: at the feet of Donald Trump, a sexual predator who lost the popular vote and fueled his campaign with bigotry and hate. Winning the electoral college does not absolve Trump of the grave sins he committed against millions of Americans. Donald Trump may not possess the capacity to assuage those fears, but he owes it to this nation to try.” ~ Harry Reid

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RIP United States, 1776-2016

Considering all the other luminaries 2016 has taken from us, it’s not surprising that the United States itself just joined their ranks.

Well, Redneck America, I hope you’re happy.

https://twitter.com/markneefuzz/status/796287885586612224

You sure showed them gol-durn Northeast elites and Hollywood liberals a thing or two, didn’t ya?

Because of your abject hatred of Hillary Clinton, instead of electing an admittedly flawed, but competent, intelligent, politically savvy woman who genuinely cares about the people of this country to the office of President, you just handed the most powerful position in the world to an orange-faced narcissistic sociopath with the temperament of a 4-year old who cares about one thing and one thing only—himself.  And by proxy to his anticipated advisors, a Short Bus of Deplorables who are openly at odds with pretty much every progressive ideal the majority of Americans hold dear—who will not only undo Obama’s own amazing accomplishments, but set the country back fifty years—if not more.

And by the way, none of them gives a rat’s ass about any of you beyond being the useful tools that you were.

You have sent worldwide stock markets crashing, and have given the entire planet an anxiety attack that may never wear off. And thanks to you, I have a reasonably good idea of what the average German was feeling in 1933.

“Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”

You have all but guaranteed an ultra-conservative Supreme Court for your—and your childrens’—lifetimes. But gol-durnit, no one’s gonna be takin’ your guns away now, are they? That’ll show ’em!

But based on Trump’s (and his anticipated advisors’) own statements,  what will be taken away?

A Woman’s Right To Choose? Gone.
Combating Climate Change? Gone.*
Voting Rights? Gone.
NATO? Gone
GBLT Rights? Gone.
The First Amendment? On life support if not gone.
Our standing in the world? Gone to HELL.

And you have given THE NUCLEAR LAUNCH CODES to the man (“We have nukes. Why can’t we use them?”) who had to have his TWITTER account taken away from him.

And Evangelical Christians: you just help elect your own textbook description of the AntiChrist…and you weren’t raptured before he came to power. That means you’re all going through The Tribulation with the rest of us. Where is your god now?

It’s bad enough that Trump was elected President. What’s even worse is that we (Democrats, Progressives, Liberals) failed to flip the Senate or the House. That means—coupled with his expected nomination of a far right wing conservative Supreme Court judge—Trump will get whatever he wants unless cooler Republican heads in the Senate give him a time out in the corner—something I’m not entirely sure will happen. Or they could impeach him outright if his transgressions get too egregious and put the country in mortal danger—but then we’d be stuck with President Pence, who has absolutely no love for the LGBT community. Out of the frying pan, into the fire—literally.

At this point I’m depressed, angry, and thoroughly disgusted with my fellow Americans who elected this wannabe dictator to the highest office in the land because apparently Hillary’s emails were more important than allegations of serial rape, financial malfeasance and ties to Putin. But as others have already said, we need to stay strong, regroup, and hopefully flip the Senate in 2018.

But that’s a long two years, and if some foreign power disrespects the Donald, I’m not even sure we’ll be alive by then.

*Probably not a bad thing since we’ll finally be rid of the national embarrassment that is Florida.

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Me…

…from now until well past Tuesday night.

Photo courtesy my longtime friend Chalkdog.

Intellectually I know Hill’s got this under control, but I am still terrified that something is going to hand the Presidency to that Cheeto-faced Shitgibbon—and what his psychotic followers will do in the aftermath of Tuesday’s election regardless of who wins.

Someone please tell me again that it’s all going to be all right and not alt-right!

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Extrapolating On An Idea

“The plan is progressing as expected,” The Architect said to no one in particular in the invisible mothership as he moved his first set of forelimbs to tap commands on the translucent panel before him. As they had done on countless worlds before, his species had intentionally crashed one of their piloted drones on the world beneath him sixty or so solar revolutions ago, setting it down where the curious ape culture would most assuredly find and retrieve it.

It was a process The Architect knew by heart and one his people had perfected in their never-ending quest to invade and conquer every habitable planet they encountered. His was a patient species; it would often take millennia for the seeds they planted at a civilization’s dawn to flower and bear fruit. And yet this was necessary. While intelligent beyond measure, in relation to the vast majority of the species they encountered and set their sights upon, they were physically weak and could easily be vanquished if not for their well-honed subterfuge and weaponry.

The scouting parties started the process. They would send down biological entities created in the image of the dominant species to build religions—or augment any that might already be existing—by performing “miracles” and claiming divine providence and then just as quickly spirit them away, knowing full well that over the course of centuries the stories of the heavenly visitors would fracture and splinter into a hundred different sects, all eventually hell-bent on destroying each other. The Architect’s people kept an discreet eye on this huge catalog of planets during the process, carefully crafting their next phase of the operation based on how a civilization developed, and leveraging its weakest points to their full advantage.

Once a species reached a certain level of technological development—usually signaled by the detonation of a nuclear device—an event the detonating species never realized reverberated across the cosmos—The Architect’s people would begin Phase 2. They would intentionally crash a drone ship onto the planet loaded with just enough technology to whet the appetite of the dominant species, knowing full well that curiosity would cause that technology to be reverse-engineered and—spawned by government and industry (either directly or indirectly) become woven into the very fabric of their civilization and ultimately completely dependent upon it.

Hidden in that technology, and undetectable to those who reverse-engineered and later extrapolated upon it, was a universal kill switch. At the appointed time, the Architect would extend an extremity and with a flick across that translucent panel completely disable a civilization. No communication, no commerce, no flow of energy or supplies. Indeed, even most of the weapons capable of making a dent in The Architect’s invading armies would be rendered useless. In any case, it wouldn’t matter. Once the flow of electrons was cut off, the society would collapse into chaos, the multitudes of warring religious factions would take it as a sign of divine judgment and self-immolate fairly quickly, leaving only a paltry shadow of the planetary civilization behind; one incapable of rebuilding the kind of infrastructure and communications necessary required to defend itself against the conquering hordes of the Architect’s people.

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99 Questions

1: Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed? Open.

2: Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotels? Depends on the product.

3: Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out? Out.

4: Have you ever stolen a street sign before? No.

5: Do you like to use post-it notes? At work, constantly.

6: Do you cut out coupons but then never use them? Constantly.

7: Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees?

8: Do you have freckles? No.

9: Do you always smile for pictures? Sometimes.

10: What is your biggest pet peeve? Willful ignorance.

11: Do you ever count your steps when you walk? Yes.

12: Have you ever peed in the woods? Yes.

13: What about pooped in the woods? Yes.

14: Do you ever dance even if there’s no music playing? No.

15: Do you chew your pens and pencils? Yes.

16: How many people have you slept with this week? Just one, but then again, I sleep with him every night.

17: What size is your bed? Queen.

18: What is your Song of the week? I’ve had the slowed-down version of Jolene as an earworm many times this week.

19: Is it okay for guys to wear pink? Yes.

20: Do you still watch cartoons? Who, me?

21: Whats your least favorite movie? Least favorite? As in on the list of your top 10 movies, what’s on the bottom of the list?

22: Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some? Sadly, that’s a question I’ll never have to worry about.

23: If you’re a girl, bra size? If you’re a guy, pants size? 38

24: What do you dip a chicken nugget in? Ranch dressing.

25: What is your favorite food? Mexican. Bring on those Taco Trucks next Tuesday!

26: What movies could you watch over and over and still love? Personal Services, Auntie Mame, The Fifth Element. 

27: Last person you kissed/kissed you? My husband.

28: Were you ever a boy/girl scout? Yes.

29: Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine? Not now.

30: When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper? Last Christmas.

31: Can you change the oil on a car? Yes.

32: Ever gotten a speeding ticket? No.

33: Ever ran out of gas? No.

34: Favorite kind of sandwich? Chicken salad.

35: Best thing to eat for breakfast? Scrambled eggs.

36: What is your usual bedtime? 10-ish.

37: Are you lazy? Not as lazy as I’d like to be.

38: When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween? The three I remember are a devil, an astronaut, and a dragon.

39: What is your Chinese astrological sign? Dog.

40: Are you horny? Not like I was when I was in my 30s.

41: Do you have any magazine subscriptions? No.

42: Which are better legos or lincoln logs? Legos.

43: Are you stubborn? I can be.

44: Who is better…Leno or Letterman? They both need to retire.

45: Ever watch soap operas? No.

46: Are you afraid of heights? It all depends on the situation.

47: Do you sing in the car? After a fashion.

48: Do you sing in the shower? No.

49: Do you dance in the car? Yes.

50: Ever used a gun? No.

51: Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? 1981.

52: Do you think musicals are cheesy? No.

53: Is Christmas stressful? Yes.

54: Ever eat a pierogi? Yes.

55: Favorite type of fruit pie? Blueberry.

56: Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Architect, Astronomer

57: Do you believe in ghosts? Once upon a time. Not any more.

58: Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? Yes.

59: Take a vitamin daily? No.

60: Wear slippers? No, but I really need to in this house.

61: Wear a bath robe? Not for years.

62: What do you wear to bed? T-shirt and underwear.

63: First concert? I think it was Captain & Tenille.

64: Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? Target.

65: Nike or Adidas? None of the above.

66: Cheetos Or Fritos? Yes, please.

67: Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? Sunflower seeds, shelled.

68: Ever hear of the group Tres Bien? No.

69: Ever take dance lessons? No.

70: Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? How about my spouse. He’s a teacher.

71: Can you curl your tongue? Yes.

72: Ever won a spelling bee? Came in 2nd once.

73: Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yes, when I learned the radiation treatments had been successful.

74: Own any record albums? A couple.

75: Own a record player? Yes.

76: Regularly burn incense? No.

77: Ever been in love? Yes, and I still am.

78: Who would you like to see in concert? I wish I’d been able to see Donna Summer. She was supposed to come to Phoenix during the summer of 1979 at the height of her popularity—and I even had tickets—and she canceled for health reasons.

79: What was the last concert you saw? Bette Midler.

80: Hot tea or cold tea? Cold tea.

81: Tea or coffee? Tea.

82: Sugar or snickerdoodles? Snickerdoodles.

83: Can you swim well? Reasonably.

84: Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Yes.

85: Are you patient? To a point.

86: DJ or band, at a wedding? DJ.

87: Ever won a contest? Yes.

88: Ever have plastic surgery? No.

89: Which are better, black or green olives? Black.

90: Can you knit or crochet? No.

91: Best room for a fireplace? The Living Room.

92: Do you want to get married? I am married.

93: If married, how long have you been married? 3 years.

94: Who was your HS crush? Which year? Tom Pleger, Mike Knigge, or Dan Baxa?

95: Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way? No.

96: Do you have kids? No.

97: Do you want kids? No.

98: Whats your favorite color? Teal.

99: Do you miss anyone right now? Yes, but missing will not bring him back from the dead.

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Quote Of The Day

Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics: You are all stardust. You couldn’t be here if stars hadn’t exploded, because the elements—the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution and for life—weren’t created at the beginning of time. They were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars, and the only way for them to get into your body is if those stars were kind enough to explode. So, forget Jesus. The stars died so that you could be here today.” ~ Lawrence M. Krauss, A Universe from Nothing: Why There Is Something Rather Than Nothing

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Preach, Sister!

I think what’s beautiful and hard and interesting about cancer is that it tears you down and builds you, and tears you down and builds you. It remakes you so many different times. The person I thought I was supposed to be or was going to be or who I thought I was six months ago is now somebody completely different.” ~ Shannen Doherty

This is so true.

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