I’m 73 and had been a widow for just a year and a half when the pandemic further upended everything. I’ve lived the life of a hermit (although a hermit with curbside grocery pickup) for the last 6+ months.
The intertoobs have been great for maintaining some semblance of human contact, but the flip side is I’m constantly exposed to the rantings of the sweaty, orange-faced current occupant of what used to be The People’s House and the complicity of what used to be the Republican party, which now resembles a cult of personality.
In the year leading up to the 2016 election, I was equally glued to the computer screen and angsted about every little fluctuation in Hillary’s poll numbers, etc. My husband warned me not to get consumed by it all because “What can you do about it? You can cast your vote and the rest is out of your hands.” He was right. As we all know, the unthinkable happened and there went a year of my life down the crapper.
If there’s one thing I hope I’ve learned from this time of reflection following the death of my husband and my self-imposed withdrawal from what used to be polite society it’s what I found on a small bumper sticker in my husband’s desk drawer: “Life is too short to argue with stupid people.”
I’m convinced Trump will win the election by hook or by crook. We already know about the voter suppression and the shenanigans at the USPS. I hope I’m wrong, but as Trump himself says, it is what it is. If the people of this country choose him again as our president, then I guess we deserve the president we get. Nothing I can do about that.
So, I’m backing off from my avid following of politics. I don’t want to spend whatever amount of time I have left on this planet in a constant state of outrage and despair. I’m only one vote, which I will gladly cast and hope it counts.
But I’m tired.
From The New Yorker:
“We remind everyone that the first defense against this outbreak is vigorous hand washing and repentance.”
From Esquire, by Charles P. Pierce:
Larrison Campbell with the online publication Mississippi Today wrote that she requested to “shadow” Robert Foster to report about his campaign before the Aug. 6 primary, and his campaign director told her Foster wouldn’t ride in a vehicle alone with her because people could insinuate Foster and Campbell are having an affair.
Foster said Wednesday that he won’t be alone with any woman other than his wife, even while working or campaigning, because of the possible public perception that he was doing something to hurt his marriage. He said being alone with a man is no problem. Foster told The Associated Press he has hired women to work for the agricultural tourism business that he and his wife run in northern Mississippi, and that he would hire women staffers if he is elected governor. He said, however: “It’s unprofessional to be alone with a woman who’s not my wife.”
Subsequent to this peculiar announcement, Foster apparently saw an opening among the Bible-bangers because he leapt to the electric Twitter machine to declare himself the bravest of the brave. Political gold, Jerry! From Mississippi Today:
“I am confident that a majority of Mississippians understand that this isn’t about gender discrimination, rather a personal conviction,” Foster told Mississippi Today on Wednesday afternoon. “I am a God-fearing man devoted to my wife and even though having a ride along with me wouldn’t be in itself immoral, the Bible teaches us to refrain from the appearance of impropriety. That’s what I did, and I’m sticking to my guns.”
The groundbreaking documentary, My Penis Terrifies Me: The Robert Foster Story, will be debuting at Cannes next year.
From The Washington Post:
Stephen Moore, President Trump’s planned nominee for the Federal Reserve Board, was found in contempt of court in 2013 for failing to pay his ex-wife more than $330,000 in alimony and child support, court documents show.
Numerous economists have raised concerns that Moore is unfit to serve on the Fed board because he doesn’t have much expertise in central banking, also arguing he could taint the Fed’s independence with his close ties to Trump. His seeming failures to follow the law have also raised some questions about his ability to be one of the nation’s top economic policymakers.
Stephen Moore has repeatedly praised marriage and homes with a “devoted husband and wife” as the best cure against poverty and other social ills. He wrote a commentary in the Washington Examiner titled “Marriage, the surest economic stimulus,” in October 2014, about a year after the court had to compel him to pay his ex-wife child support and alimony.
Allison Moore says her husband slept with his mistress in the family home and stated at a graduation ceremony for one of their sons, “I have two women, and what’s really bad is when they fight over you.”
The Virtual Paintout is back after a long hiatus this year.
(Check out the link in my blog roll on the right of the page.)
Each month Bill Guffey, the wonderful artist who runs the whole shebang, picks a spot somewhere on the planet for artists of all stripes to convene and travel the streets via Google Street View and then submit their artwork of the spots they find interesting.
The choice this last month was the U.S. Virgin Islands.
My husband of 42 years passed away in June. He always encouraged me in my artwork and had been after me to get back into it, but his months long illness and radiation treatments took their toll on both of us and I just didn’t have the will to do that.
So when Bill started up his website again in August, I thought I’d give it a go. I didn’t have quite yet what it takes to do a full blown painting, so I found this rooster strutting his stuff in front of a house and did a quick sketch using color markers. And here it is.
I call this one “Funky chicken.”
This is the jacket Melania Trump wore when she traveled to Texas to meet with immigrant children detained in a shelter. She changed into something less tone-deaf when she actually visited them.
Her press secretary said that there was “no hidden message” involved here.
I’ll say. It’s right out there in the open. Maybe Melania is the only truth teller in the family.
Here are some alternatives via Twitter:
From The New Yorker by Karen Chee: