Contact us
Back to All Posts

Just a mish-mash of a mash-up, a bunch of more junk for you political junkies. Do you have junk in the trunk, on Trump? Or baste Baldwin and her bros, Harris and such, right before Thanksgiving?

Bar talk can go beyond basic, and is not just about the Packers, or the crosstown Minneapolis-based Queens that are now Kings, where various people say there may be rioting in the streets tonight, and not because of a bad ref’s call. They pack in a fair amount of political commentary, even if it’s typically more like a monolog.

Usually there is one person at THAT table – this is seemingly the place in the bar where it usually transpires, like the many pollsters at your door being of just one persuasion – who is on a roll and won’t let up and just finish his beer. The rest listen, kinda with just one ear. Turns out they might need a third.

So, on these pages you are seeing a lot of niche political notations, slotted in because this is important. I will try to be balanced and not poke fun only at Trump, but he makes it so easy! And because this being at its start a music column, there’s a whole lotta lyrics fodder for such discourse, even if Disturbed, as in a killer band that foregoes the silence and sounds the alarm.

— Trump has repeatedly gone after Harris about her looks, and a rally speaker said she could be the anti-Christ. (See if you can find the Easter Egg in the metal video Writing on the wall, when the devil tries and badly fails, to ascend.) But wait, I don’t see any devil horns or multiple sixes floating around Harris’ head, (see below), which he says is dizzy. Maybe more plausible to call Trump a fascist. And he does not score points for not the weave in speeches, or the weave that got grazed and flipped and showed his scalp in the back of his head, during that first assassination attempt. —

When the political ad calls come, the spammers spoof in spades, and even the legit (or something like that) ones follow suit. My mom was getting about two spam calls as such per hour on her old land line, and she knew who they were because those four red letters, “SPAM,” kept popping up before those obligatory 10 numerals on Old School caller ID, and not for voting at the polls. Or even on her TV screen, you know, up in the corner. All but one of the spammers took a Sunday off. Not so for fundraiser emails associated with my party of choice (guess which one, based on my writing.)

Do myself, my mom and my niece constitute a bloc of Milwaukee and rest of state voters, even if just a small one?

Better stay in tonight, I told them a few days ago, the eve of more possible death threat charges against Trump, as both candidates were in Milwaukee, Trump at a ritzy suite and Harris at a state fairgrounds. If both they and their posses come my way, tonight, I smirked, I will be reporting, as it is, from the somewhat safety of my apartment window. While on Second Street — which has become the new Eleventh Street Bridge over the freeway — a mere 100 feet from the county GOP Office, there had been debates over which party was performing their posts. One hint: The Dems sported a populist hay bale, I believe, and the GOP if not limos, horribly decked out with flags and such possibly redneck trucks. No big style points on either side, short of Beyonce.

Truth be told, there is no such thing as truth anymore. Trump might as well say, I’m going to blow up the moon, and then when asked how he would do it retort, “I have a concept of a plan.” (Maybe he just wants to just mobilize all that space junk, with the Jedi-like help of Elon, God forbid not Obie.) Just trust me, he says. Someone who tells lies by the hundreds. And his ilk say it is Harris who does not specify what she would do in office. To me, repeating endlessly that she would offer a $25,000 credit to first-time homeowners is a large part of the way there. It specifies both who and how much.

Trump promises the mass deportation of illegal immigrants, the biggest in history, but does not say where he will get all that money. And does he not understand that cheap immigrant labor is one of the backbones of our economy? (I will give him kudos for a proposal to make tips non-taxable, like anyone reports them anyway.) Does he not think that deporting them and restricting their entry will affect the rate of growth that he champions? And the double-whammy or triple-whammy of having the ability to pay for the very construction of that huge wall on the border? (A thought: How about if you have to build a wall, only put it at the areas where there is the biggest crossing crisis. Texas and Texans reign. Granted, many people will eventually catch on and try to cross elsewhere, but in the meantime you have reduced the rate of entry to an acceptable number to all but fervent fascists.)

And as far as Trump saying that in office, he would basically obliterate all his enemies and end his war of choice to specify at the moment, all in his first day. Hey, even God needed seven. Which war would he pick to end, first, On That Day? And I thought the military was going to be really busy hunting down all his political opponents. Maybe, like God, he should give himself a full week.

A mass deportation on Day One? But have to jail them first. The jails are already overcrowded and also the legal system overtaxed. A suggestion. House many of the bad guys at Mar-a-Lago, as there have been many visiting there for a time already, and have Trump oversee them with the fine-toothed comb like he’s used on his rug. And he has criticized Kamala’s looks! She has been said to really rock the look, even moreso, back in the day. She would fit in well on a California beach.

This is not so well. “I got along with Putin,” Trump ranted. Why would someone say that? It’s almost like highlighting, yeah me and Hitler. We’re buds.

Trump should edit his remarks and not shoot off the cuff, and possibly sleep on it first before he airs them, as to not put his foot in it yet again, feet first. Would that mean less hourly spam calls to my mom’s land line …

Back to the hanging of Harris, would you do anything differently than Joe Biden, an interviewer asked her in a way that seemed to be impromptu. “There’s not a thing that comes to mind” she responded. But just maybe upon further reflection … A mere eight word clip, not given with context.

Wait, there are also third party candidates to poke fun at. Not long after there was the IVF debacle, there was the battle to WIN the ballot and then NIX it for RFK. I’d heard it all, a candidate will SUE for the right to get back OFF the ballot. Sweating it out while seated ahead of the camera like Rich (Nixon) or Rudy (Guiliani.)

Much like the former unceremonious ouster of Mitch, the speaker, of the House, and not of Usher, as we harken back to Halloween. And its replacement of US flags with Halloween haunt ones sized the same, as far as flags, at times flanking the sides of a driveway, which were then re-replaced with Old Glory as election day neared.

Share the Post:

Related Posts

  • I’ll be brief and punchy with this headline notation, as we transition to giving you more and sometimes shorter choices. And you may notice some of that as you beckon forward. It’s circular. Like a flush. Be careful what you mix, heads vs. text, drinks vs. food, and all kinds of potions — that may go bump in the night. —– Punchy, potentially, but I digress or progress with a new patriotic addition.
My mom has told me not to be a potty mouth when I write, as she certainly would not appreciate hardly any of the standup humor on say, Comedy Central Radio. SNL maybe. But after 11:30 p.m. … But there comes a time where a man must make a stand. And for this jokester, it was now when he had to choose whether to pass on the opportunity that would otherwise bite him in the butt, for in front of and behind him is the Mother Lode. Or should I say load. Or “Mothers” of Invention. Heh heh, heh heh, Butthead, look...
Read More
  • This coulda been Vanna White’s next Big gig In The Sky, if the scaffolding was not so high. So this is how the project went, by the letters and numbers, of get Trump’s name erased from the Kennedy Center. The $250 bill might be tougher. Sad but true. So, What are there more of going on right now, wars or Trump pet construction projects?
So the wall is down. Of letters, that is. Not down by Mexico. Cemented into the concrete. Of the Kennedy Center. Where music has sat. (Near where a now defunct wrestling arena rusts in peace. Or a bloodied White House lawn. With leftover paper cups and plates, more likely bowls and small utensils, anyone?) Or more ornate than inside? A tarp the size of Pennsylvania, the predominant battle state, covers workers as they chip. So geez, how big are the letters? Four times 50 living workers high? But now none remain, or so we are told by flunkies. Or is...
Read More
  • Stressed out as a caregiver? She’s back at yah. This is a rare case of a husband and wife being joint caregivers — for each other — aided and abbetted by the fact that they have a lot of the same disabling conditions. So she shovels snow using a walker/scooter, while he cooks gingerly using a microwave and offers her a plate when she sits down, in an easy chair, in a reversal and new take on traditional roles. Whatever it takes. Necessity is the mother of invention. —– In a new add, Towns and the champion Knicks got kicked around but still got their kicks in the long run … As do Norwegian dancers.
A few years back, I wrote an article about Hudson Deacon Tom Kroll and how he did so many extra dutiful tasks, his living out the Gospels tirelessly, when his wife was ill, in addition to his regular job. I was inspired at the time to pen this, about my own lovely, disabled wife — we were separated briefly but now back together with our 40th anniversary this month, as wholehearted caregiving has many strains — and how an atypical view of standard roles, out of necessity, made things work, as far as our approach to work and home that’s...
Read More
  • He says, and goes fishing with the boys. She says, then goes to the middle of Texas, inviting her mates to a ranch/villa built for the ages. The bachelor and bachelorette parties were on the same night, but though very different, they had some things in common … like the snakes, at least three kinds, to avoid. (None with exotic dancer.) But while away, they did not avoid each other, completely. He made a phone call. —– Just added, last call included a Carolina cowpoke.
What do fishing, maybe in the dark, thus a Texas ranch, snakes of various types and do they come or stay out after dusk, eating either and only fine food or snacks, and a game of cards — likely just one each — have in common. And no strippers or Chippendales. And an only half or quarter, not full Monty. (Who is Monty anyway?) Or cowboy or cowgirl hats. Although there was some dress-up. More Barbie than boots on, I think. It’s an easy answer, connected and conflicting, but not in all or dirty ways, bachelor and bachelorette parties. One of each...
Read More
  • Full metal jacket? Hey, I wasn’t exactly to the point of going Rob Halford. But tastes aside, there must be some reason why after 26 years I was shunned, like going Bob Daisley by Ozzy at his reunion? OK, I know, my style may not have fit with the packed crowd. And the last couple of times for this, I tried to do too much with ad-libbing. So yeah, I get that this time around, I was the somewhat unusual choice to be the one left off the set list, with singers clamoring to get up there. But seriously, just being analytical of strengths and weaknesses as a singer here, no hard feelings. I’m not Dio. (Or Traveling Wilburys, a when jumping inside, inside joke.)
It was clear to me at the most recent Jeff Loven music show in Hudson, for Memorial Day weekend, that there has been a changing of the guard. The sword has been passed. New blood, like Yungblud, has been brought in. And, I must say, loyalty — amongst the devotees who travel frequently and all across the two-state area to virtually all of Jeff’s shows — has been rewarded. They are the royalty, in what just makes good business sense that I can appreciate. In a significant but not unprecedented altering of course, I was not one of those asked...
Read More
  • Songs by Napalm Death? A fire swept down my very street today, where the babies were burned. (But alas, a new A/C unit is on its way up the freeway.) The Stones did not leave these themes unturned, either, or should I say unrolled. Oh wait, this all was my cooker of an apartment, and we are not talking the kitchen. But all these matters will become more pressing, a pressure point, as the new normal especially in southern climes is temp well into the triple digits. It is these people, the third world, and their heat stroke not mine, that most concern me. (Another example of hellfire temps just added. Sin after Sin.)
Trial by fire. My broiling heart in my efficiency flat still beats a bit, in concern over those boiling over in worse apartments in a Chicago tenancy, or on an ocean island instantly-burn-your-feet beach or dessert, or forced to endure ice baths just to keep cool — or simply be offered no way to maintain an ice-dripping body other than also read a non-cookbook at the library, or select not a big steak you can’t afford but a 73/27 burger from a freezer and slap it on your forehead. Just not too hard. All these things are ones where you especially today either burn or...
Read More
Scroll to Top