Ichabod's Kin
A place for politics, pop culture, and social issues

Feb
14

          However NFL commissioners are removed, this one needs to go, whether for mis- or malfeasance in office.

          The attempt to hang Brady and, by extension, to hamstring the Patriots, was a put-up job from the beginning. Goodell’s not the only rat in this: other team owners went along when they should have spoken out, but it was to their advantage to hobble the Pats, and silence became their cowardly response. We already know what price the Indianapolis Colts—those sad whistle-blowers—have paid: natural justice has seen to that, and not only has their recent past been a sad one, but their future too is at risk.

          It is a sad commentary on our times that the way used to stop the unstoppable, especially when they are winners, is to criminalize them. I was already deep into GOP political websites when they admitted they couldn’t stop Hillary without convincing the public she was a felon. Sadly, in her case it worked, though the email hoo-hah, like Deflategate, was and always will be a red herring.

          Such was the sorry stab at stopping Brady. First let us admit that the reason they hate him is he’s beautiful—and an incredible winner. New York sports fans think they’re automatically entitled to the Champion brand because, well, because they’re New York. But before the Super Comeback of recent vintage, Boston was already the Sports Capital of the World with nine championships spread over four pro teams. And this makes the tenth.

          In the minds of Pats-hater, this had to be stopped, and using the lame accusation served up by the Colts, Goodell, with plenty of other Patriot competitors cheering him on, declared Tom a criminal. And think about it: that would have stuck if Tom hadn’t stuck it to the Commish with his onfield heroics.

          Sad it was, in a way, but a comeuppance of rare vintage, that we all got to see Roger tug at Tom’s jersey to force a handshake on the post-game winner’s dais after the big game—then to not let Brady’s hand go as if to plead that his be a quick death, and not a slow, painful torture. (#RogerKnowsWhat’sComing). Okay, fine, just get the hell out, Rog; that’ll be penalty enough—and spare us all the impeachment process, just resign and we’ll all be good.

          But Tom and the Pats org are bigger people than I am. Brady allowed the post-Bowl public intrusion by Goodell when by all rights he could have simply grabbed the trophy and turned to the crowd with exultation, leaving Goodell with Falcon eggs all over his face. Belichick too was a bigger man than Roger will ever be, and only defensive coordinator Matt Patricia spoke for our collective pique by debarking the team bus wearing a Goodell clown-shirt because that’s what the Roger is. Matt can be forgiven for that by merely hanging the shirt next to the commissioner’s list of unsportsmanlike failings throughout the nightmare of enflatement charges, and see which is worse.

          But back to Brady. Every team in the NFL wish they had one like him or, in another universe, had Tom himself. But they didn’t, they don’t and they won’t. He’s self-effacing, spreads credit all around, knows who’s boss (Belichick), trains exhaustively, is a family man and just all around beautiful. Too many other superstars are glory-hogs and playboys, however talented or overrated, like A-Rod, for Exhibit A. Not Tom. He’s just beautiful—like the kind of guy you wish your daughter brought home to marry. And that’s what steams Tom’s critics so much, they can’t hang a thing on him. All they could do is declare him a cheater, and always will, regardless: “See, he didn’t have to cheat, so why did he?” How about: Because he didn’t. But that’s all they had to work with: a rumor, and a crook of a commissioner.

          Oh, and that brings up Roger again and, hopefully, for the last time. Go away, Rog. We gotta keep American sports clean and you’ve dirtied it, and yourself.

          One last thing. Donald Trump will want the Pats at the White House and we all know what he’ll do. He’ll say they have the kind of spirit he has, with which he’ll make American great again.

          False narrative. Alternative fact. No, Donald, you’re not the Brady, Belichick and Patriot of our time.

          You’re the Roger Goodell. And we’ll catch up with you in time too.

          As they say in radio and the military: Roger that.

            (John Burciaga can also be reached directly at Ichabod142@gmail.com)

 

Jan
13

          Comes the big day that Donald J. Trump is sworn into the highest office in the land, and he, Congress and Donald’s minions pick up their lottery check.

          Neither he, Congress nor his True Believers expected him to win. But like a lottery, where winners don’t earn or deserve all that money, but wake up rich, all who wear ball caps backward, the take-this-job-and-stick-it crowd, and all who’ve longed to poke fingers in the public’s eye, feel that God or good luck has smiled on all of them.

          The GOP Congress, having steeled themselves for a November downsizing, suddenly were heard to crow like roosters at daybreak. Paul Ryan’s sullen look ahead at eight years of playing second fiddle to a Democrat, turned to clucking around Congress as if he’d climbed Everest, when in truth he fell into it due to no credit of his own. He should worry now that Donald might Tweet him some 3 a.m. with remembrance of things past—like how Ryan deserted him during the campaign—and announce Paul’s new job as doorman at Trump Tower.

          For his part, the Trump-ster flitted about on Victory tours, zinged Arnie the Terminator about his old reality show, and traded slaps with Meryl Streep—all so “presidential.” Obama, by contrast, was allowed no victory laps, not even for getting bin Ladin, not for his good-bye speech—witness Sean Hannity’s tirade afterward on Fox.

          Certainly we shall long remember Donald’s list of miscreant words and behavior: You can’t un-see and un-hear things said and done on his campaign trail; they are the stuff of ugly legend and regrettably part of history’s indelible archive.

          The White House, if nothing else, is #TheHomeOfBadLuck, and our Commanders in Chief are sorely tested ere they can warm their new seat in the Oval Office. North Korea’s manchild, Kim Jong Un, will soon brandish a warhead-on-a-stick at us and Donald will find such people, crazy as they are, and wielding real power, can’t be stiffed the way he did his real estate investors.

          The latest signs that his will be a stormy tenure are his conflicts with both the Intel community and the press; a third front lingering in the background is his coming war with Congress itself which, after all, neither supported nor elected him, leaving that instead to voters who don’t like their Reps any more than they do Hillary and Democrats.

          Trump’s recent press conference is the gold standard of miscues. Whoever thinks CNN’s Jim Acosta was out of order should think again: from the top, Donald called out that network as one of “fake news,” thereby inviting a follow-up from Acosta, but one that Trump refused to take or to answer, and his press secretary warned the correspondent that he would be thrown from the press corps for future “outbursts.”

          Then Kellyanne Conway, the newest Pretty Little Liar on TV, pressed the matter in a long interview with CNN by conflating its news coverage with that of the notorious BuzzFeed source and for having given credence to Russia’s hacking claim, both of which are blatantly incorrect. But such is Team Trump’s strategy to discredit the press—which we follow to our peril: it is rather the public’s main safeguard against governmental tyranny.

Along the way Donald continues to flip-flop on campaign promises whilst Conway assures us that her new work-hubby seldom means what he says. We’ll see if she can spin him out of a looming cloud of Russian hacking may have compromised her boss himself.

          Sadly, Donald may, amid his pique, take it all out on anyone he dislikes, or who don’t “treat him nice,” and begin to use police powers to teach them a lesson. If so, mark it as a sign of the Apocalypse.

          We deserve better but, when ours is ancient history, a latter-day poet may discover Shelley’s poem “Ozymandias” and liken it to a future American wasteland where “…two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert…(and) half-sunk, a shattered visage lies” with “…frown and wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command…” and the cold postscript that “nothing beside remains ‘round the decay of that colossal wreck…”–then perhaps a footnote referencing to an arrogant billionaire confidence man in a day when people voted away their freedom for tempting fleshpots of hoped-for “change.”

          For now, Inauguration day cometh, and the world will see Donald in all his glory. Next day, cometh a Reality Show the likes of which he never dreamed.

          What distinguishes America, said Walt Whitman, was that here, presidents tip their hats to the people, not the other way around. Keep an eye on Donald’s “Make America Great” cap in coming days, and learn to bow before it.


Dec
24

          No, the Season is not just about Christmas: early America disliked it so much that they outlawed it: here in Massachusetts, stores and public offices remained open to staunch the flow of paganism—which is what they deemed Catholicism. More on that later.

          Truth be told, there are over two dozen religions, old and new, that celebrate this time of year, all for one reason: Light. After all, it’s a dark month. Until the Solstice, the REAL “light of the world,” when the longest night ends, and daylight extends till all of nature bursts to life again in the spring, but not before earliest humanity thought they would die a cold death.

          When you’re freezing your buns off, what’s not to like about that?

          So it truly is a “merry” time for Christians, a “happy” one for Jews and their Hanukkah, and on and on. No time or ink here to make a List of celebrators, let alone to check it twice. I once remarked in this space that it would help out the rest of us if Jews made up their minds how to spell theirs—Hanukah, Hanukkah, Chanukah, etc? Then a reader sent me the daunting info that there were more ways of spelling it than I ever dreamed. But safe to say, it has to do with Light.

          I once was invited by a Jewish family up north to see what they called a “Hanukkah Bush”—that otherwise looked very much like a Christmas Tree, only smaller. Later, in Atlanta, I set up a tiny such “Bush” on my editorial desk—till my Jewish Art editor said what the hell is that and vehemently advised me that there was no such thing. One shouldn’t scream at her editor, but unlike Joseph, I did not wish to put her away quietly, or at all.

          So I was at sea again regarding Hanukkah/Chanukah/whatever. Then Meg Greenfield, one-time columnist for Newsweek, admitted that for ages it was a minor Jewish celebration till Christmas got all big and Jews needed something to shut up their kids who kept asking why they couldn’t have a Christmas tree like all their friends. Hence the “Bush,” so-called. But lots of Jews don’t buy into that.

          Nonetheless, Hanukkah/whatever is about Light–you know, those candles that wouldn’t go out, as good a story as any this time of year, and more than worthy of note. But the other problem is that it moves all over the end of the calendar; were it just in one place that too would help us gentiles. For now it wanders all over and at times competes with Thanksgiving. It’s not just the Chinese that are notably inscrutable.

          Not till 1836 (60 years after Independence) was Christmas made an official holiday—and that was in Alabama of all places, where snow is hardly in abundance, not in Dickensian New England where sleigh bells ring to a maddening degree.

          But as boatloads of Catholics migrated to our shores they were enough in number to make their celebration stick, and the fight over Christmas abated; no knockout, they just won on points, i.e, social and cultural osmosis—till they felt entitled and insisted that anyone who didn’t celebrate it was waging “war” against their holiday. This of course is something they wouldn’t have thought, or cared, about were it not for Fox News, which likes nothing better in a month of Peace than to have a brawl over something.

          But this has died down too, with the departure of Gretchen Carlson the little beauty queen, who was Fox’s face for said War; she left because the moral and spiritual leader of that network kept trying to put his hand up her dress. So now that channel on your TV cares less about the Christmas War and more about Donald Trump as the Savior of the World. Soon your holiday Tree may be sporting orange lights.

          I don’t mind that early Christianity shifted its Birth celebration to December and took over the Roman Saturnalia which was the latter’s Big Light Party at that time. After all, Jesus wasn’t born that month and shepherds didn’t hang out on hilltops in rainy seasons.

          But I don’t care. This time of year is for magic, and mainly for kids. I don’t care either that Santa is now as important as the Christ Child, or that Rudolph is the anchor of a very secular story about an elfin benefactor from somewhere in the North Pole who brings not spiritual but very material gifts to big eyes and grasping hands.

          It’s a time literally of Lights! (on the Tree)…Camera! (to capture those kiddie moments)…and Action! (tear into them packages, kids!).

          I just want everybody to be happy. You say Merry Christmas to me, I say it to you. You say Kwanzaa, I do too. You say to-may-to, I won’t say to-mah-to.

          Just cheer up, already.


Nov
11

          To the chagrin of many, the most qualified presidential candidate in modern history has been denied her deserved place, and we’ve embraced incivility, mutual disrespect, xenophobia, denigration of women, and racial inequality—you know, all those things inappropriate to 21st-century world leadership.

          In a trice, we saw Donald blow the obligatory air-kiss as “everybody’s prez.” But what, pray tell, will happen the first time, as Chief, he feels slighted by someone “not treating (him) nice”? Set cops to beating up protesters—as in certain 20th century tyrannies?

          We watched with gaping mouths as Donald—oh, excuse me, the Prez-Elect—cursed and brow-beat all opponents, mocked people with physical limitations, bragged of grabbing women, en masse deportation of Mexicans, barring Muslims, building walls, scrapping health care—all in brutish and vulgar terms–to the cheers of not just veteran Tea Partiers but KKKs, violent militarists, the NRA, and your friendly neighborhood gun stock-pilers known for short tempers. Any one of these, or a combination of them, would have sunk Hillary long before Nov. 8.

          Silly us. What good were all those manners taught at mother’s knee; of learning in school sports to play fair; of Sunday School lessons that bespoke loving the stranger and treating them as children of God?

          People who didn’t like the first lady’s bare arms were suddenly OK with Melania’s past as a skin model—photos of which will be on internet forever for your kids’ enjoyment (“Hey, there’s the first lady’s—‘whatever’!”). But never mind: it’s all worth it to just not have Hillary around.

          Donald won in part by telling the jobless that King Coal would return under his leadership. Oh, dream on. Hillary’s remark about the imminent shutting down of that industry was in the context of a promise to re-train those workers for better opportunities—something, by the way, they don’t want to do, but keep their old way of life. So would lots of folks, but even newer tech careers keep changing and demanding new skill-sets. It’s called “adaptation,” but Donald wants to be seen as a savior.

          Trump will not wave a magic wand and change things. I was dead wrong that he was not electable, but without hesitation I will say further that his road ahead is much harder than he thinks. He also doesn’t “know more than all the generals” about global threats and how to deal with them. But again, he’s a blowhard, lacking any humility (he said he’s never asked God’s forgiveness for anything) so scrap your holy bible, Evangelicals, because there’s a new, very secular sheriff in town to show you a “better” way.

          The kicker is that this Outsider may bring on some quite Establishment folks into his administration—just as Obama did, to liberals’ dismay. If so, he’ll immediately morph into an Insider. Fun folks like Rudy Giuliani, long past his days as America’s Mayor, and Newt Gingrich, the Pillsbury Doughboy of politics, both have very checkered pasts with marriage and divorce, as does Donald: shall we hold that against their current wives, the way Hillary was blamed for Bill’s indiscretions? Worst of all, to bring in Steve Bannon will majorly stink up the whole place.

          If American voters (that is, less than half of them) wanted Trump in spite of his campaign rhetoric, what was the dog-whistle that lured them into Bizarro-land? Well, think of Thomas Hobbes’ “Leviathan.” He said that what people really need when in national crisis is a Leviathan, a strongman, but the price is a stiff one—namely, the sacrifice of significant freedoms for security and instant solutions.

          Hobbes’ mother bore him prematurely while the Spanish Armada was on its way to England, making him and fear “twins at birth,” and out of people’s fear, sense and civility became a thing of the past, and the answer, to Hobbes, was a Leviathan.

          Oh, Donald’s not that, regardless of his patented huffing and puffing. He can’t stiff other world leaders and walk away with their land and money the way he has investors. This is neither real estatenor a Reality Show. He made us think the Iran deal is scary, though it slowed their nuclear development to a crawl. And good luck with cozying up to Russia. Putin is not a negotiator; he’s a pit bull of the KGB who makes “deals” and breaks them. Putin will have Donald for lunch (if you know what I mean), then eat Trump’s own lunch. Then what will Donald do: get pissed and push the nuclear button?

          If you think Donald will do the Lord’s work, just be ready to hold him accountable.

          

Oct
24

          Our long national nightmare of presidential debates is done. Donald Trump’s Rat Race is over—and the rat didn’t win. Indeed, he lost all three in the court of public opinion, regardless what some very partial pundits said. Enough people know a jerk when they see one, and god help those who don’t.

          It began some years ago when the notorious “Town Hall” meetings first revealed an underlying anger in a slice of the American public. GOP pols saw an opening and adopted a fatal assumption: that the irked populace was mad only at Democrats and Obama.

          But this took a nasty turn when Republicans angled aggressively for those unhappy voters and rode to Washington on the Tea Party bandwagon, promising to send all liberals a-packing.    Sadly, Obama outplayed them at every turn whilst they slumbered in denial. Suddenly the GOP were targets of the anger and, lo, it hath been their coffin ever since. With nowhere else to go, and no one to believe in, the Angry Folk, like the village rabble of a Frankenstein movie, found a new hero in Donald Trump who has led them down the primrose path to ultimate disillusionment. Such was the Comeuppance.

          It is also a psychological truism that, for many, once a conviction has been formed, it is difficult if not impossible to change. And Trump followers are that in spades.      

          That little Miffed Minority that to now has held us all hostage for their political Fifteen Minutes of spleen-venting, were enough in number to skew polls for a while and charm other impressionable gentry to join their ranks. They ranted about unemployment and the inability to pay bills–till the truth came out that that’s not who they are.

          Indeed, the average hothead who has fueled Trump Nation makes $75,000 a year, meaning that in a general sense those who make, say, only $50-$25K are balanced by others making $100-$125K. Hardly a pittance—and another reason they drive around in cars better than yours or mine.

          Turns out they’re just unhappy souls, willy-nilly, mayhap aggrieved of migraines by which they bethink themselves to have heard calls to revolution, but they are not true Minutemen, merely flash-in-the-pan palookas who will turn tail when voting results come in—and thereafter deny they ever supported Trump. Till then, to observe them during interviews with media has been to witness the worst of illogic. All those years of expanding education facilities and opportunities, including of the “higher” sort—when existing colleges and universities were put on steroids and junior- and community colleges came into being and thrived, did them no good at all. (I’ve excluded so-called online “universities,” a la Trump’s and so many others that are nothing but degree-mills, at a shocking cost to the misled students).

          But too many grads of traditional Ed learned to merely to make widgets, or to con the public into buying things it does not need (otherwise known as Marketing)—but not to think critically and independently as a sword and shield against charlatans and snake-oil salesmen.

          But there is more. As a consultant to warring groups it was my questionable privilege to see how people get sore at each other, choose up sides and thereafter abandon all reason and civility—of which there are various levels, from early stages of mild disagreement to the devilment of wanting to kill each other, if not literally, at least to the point of ruining others in name or well-being. Such is our current state of affairs. Donald’s minions hate Hillary so much that they would rather vote for Beelzebub than even to stay at home come Nov. 8.

          We can only pray this will soon be over; Donald exists because too many drink his tea, never spout an original thought, and parrot what they’ve heard from him and his spokespersons. The difference is that the latter are paid to do so, and in the next election will be hired guns for someone totally unlike him.

          But I’ll take great satisfaction in the moment the electorate tells him “You’re Fired!”—and he’s thereafter best known as: a Loser.

 

Aug
31

          There’s no single reason certain folk won’t vote for Hillary Clinton. Some will never vote for a Democrat, no how, no way. Some get their info from supermarket tabloids—meaning they deserve to be lied to. Others, deep-minded as they are, don’t like her hair, her choice of clothes, or the way she holds her mouth. Some think only Democrats run up the national budget and increase the size of government, forgetting that both grew exponentially under Reagan.

          But do not even begin to think that, for no few, it’s not because she’s a woman. Don’t even go there. My advice is to stop watching Fox News and read a damn book once in a while—like history, for starters.

          Given this is the 96th anniversary of women’s suffrage—you know, their right to vote—it was among my stack of must-reads for the summer. Good books, as only those who read them know, are refreshing. They rescue us from hearsay and anecdotal information, include all factors and afford a big picture of events and outcomes.

          Long ago in a galaxy far away, amid my theological education, research on various subjects and biblical texts brought me to Elizabeth Cady Stanton. She was not formally a theologian, which ordinarily would disqualify her as a credible source. She was an early feminist given first and foremost to bringing suffrage to her gender—but she was up on, and incredibly conversant with, what was called Higher Criticism as it emerged from Europe and primarily Germany.

          But she dared where others would not go: she identified religion all over the world as the most pernicious factor in the subjugation of women and their imprisonment as secondary citizens—or as less than that.

          But America’s religion was not just any, especially in her day, but the good ol’ Judeo-Christian one that we’ve come to know, love and, in the case of women, has bound their gender hand and foot.

          At this point I may have lost not only most men but no few women, which was precisely Stanton’s point, and her fate, back in the last half of the 19th century. Other great suffragists, including those who mentally admitted to same, feared her evidential truth would harm the movement to claim the vote.

          But there were all too many other women, not given to that struggle, who defaulted to men’s assessment of their social role and worth—precisely because men had always told them it was God’s will. Stanton’s provocative book, “The Woman’s Bible,” published twice in 1895 and 1898, was wildly popular, meaning it was read, but not always for the right reasons. The clergy and their religious institutions, not to mention the press, went after her chapter and verse, hammer and tong.

          For one thing, they feared her effectiveness as a writer. She told the pointed truth but not in an angry way, and was not given to ad hominem attacks—which infuriated men even more, and daunted the women who were under their thumbs. Clearly, for the latter to take up that cudgel would divide homes and institutions, regardless that Stanton’s thesis was well taken.

          My point here is that the reaction to her, and society’s threat to any and all women, save for the most intelligent and steel-willed of them, has to be re-read to be believed for its vitriol which, it is safe to say, was unabated through the century following Stanton—witness the inflamed name-calling and belittlement of women of the First and Second Waves of feminism since the past mid-century.

          The battle between the sexes is no laughing matter, and never was, but guys have always had the edge. Stanton showed how the book of Genesis has been misinterpreted through the ages yet she never advocated its relegation to the trash-heap of history, but that its male-infused slant influenced the biblical books that followed—and became grist for women’s subjugation to this day.

          Sadly, that has been of little consolation. Stanton’s fate was to speak her truth at the worst possible time—when getting the vote was paramount and took decades to accomplish. Behold what happened to minting of the U.S. silver dollar with its image of Susan B. Anthony, or the failure of the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) when the old male canards reared again their ugly heads.

          Then think of Hillary Clinton. No, she shouldn’t be elected just for being a woman. But she shouldn’t be denied for that reason, either. Ironically, the danger is not that Hillary will be voted for being a woman, but that she will be voted against for that reason. .

          For all interested women, I recommend Stanton’s remarkable book cited above. And while you’re at it, try on Gaylor’s “Women Without Superstition,” for a treasure trove of the other women of Stanton’s generation, of whom humanity can be most proud.

          Read. Be inspired. And vote.

 

           

Aug
31

  [This was a column published in the Daily News just before Trump’s downfall in the polls]

          Political liberals are the worst of nervous nellies, ever fretting lest their world come to an end. This time they fret that Donald Trump will be elected in November.

          Not to say it can’t happen. Anything is possible in life, but many also improbable, and highly so, and this is one of them. Were the Democrats in the disarray that is today’s GOP, one can only imagine what would be said of them. But Republicans are adept at illogic. Add to that Fox’s Roger Ailes and his penchant for beauty queens as serious “journalists” or Sarah Palin-sorts that he deems “hotties” and keeps on TV as sexy allures. As we all know, but not from watching Fox News, this has caught up with him in the worst way.

          As for this election season, the real predictors, once we get beyond poll-panic and Carrot-Top’s hot-air, are the following:

          THE GROUND GAME. Nervous liberals were out in force in ’08 and in ’12, ready to leave our shores for Canada or Scandinavia should McCain to victory with Palin in tow, or Romney bring the Robber Barons to GOP glory. Aside from polls, Team Obama’s strategy was more than sufficient to win, and Hillary’s current battle-state tactic will produce the same result.

          POLLS ARE UNRELIABLE indicators of outcomes. Dukakis was way ahead before his electoral collapse, Reagan was behind Carter till waning days of that campaign, and Truman’s upset of Dewey is the stuff of legend. Aside from each party’s “base,” the flaky “Middle” is what causes roller-coaster polls but tends to come to its senses by November.

          PRETTY LITTLE LIARS. Electoral cycles always feature new faces, in this case, Kayleigh McEnany and Katrina Pierson, young, fresh spin-doctors, wisely drawn into CNN’s orbit of analysis where they are surrounded by wiser heads who actually know a thing or two. Were they on Fox, and uncontested, the mindless Republican cohort would think they were doing the Lord’s work and speaking His truth, and Ailes dearly wishes they were on his show.

          McEnany’s disconnect is that she weaves her web of lies with a deer-in-headlights facial expression, as if God might strike her dead any moment for her defense of Donald’s worst-and-latest gaffes—whether the “Mexican” judge or any number of others. She and Pierson are straight out of the ancient sophist tradition: to be on anybody’s payroll if willing to make a seemingly convincing case—but truth be damned.

          THE CON MAN. Donald’s unwitting role is to expose what we thought was an America emerging from adolescence and toward cultural and political adulthood. Dream on. An inordinate chunk of our populace has learned nothing, regardless of public and private educations, and the examples of older civilizations.

          The “con” in Con Man refers to the word “confidence,” a more obvious way of stealing. Pickpockets relieve you of your money by stealth; others by mis-information—best known as “figures don’t lie, but liars figure.” A confidence man looks you in the eye and asks you to trust him, ill you willingly give him what he wants. Donald routinely says, “Believe me…you can believe it…This is what I’m going to do…Make no mistake…You can count on that…” and a host of other baseless synonyms.

          TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. The GOP has known since day one that Hillary will beat them in 2016; all they could do was attempt to criminalize her. Hence the kerfuffle the notorious emails and “servers”—of which the average American knows not a fig and would think nothing, had not Fox and the GOP said it was something. Now that Hillary is fully absolved of a felony, they will act right up to November as if she were guilty. It was their last, best chance and now they face a Convention that is smoldering ahead of time, and will burst into flame at the opening bell.

          America will give anyone a hearing, however extreme, but tends at last toward moderation. That’s why our long electoral process is wise, regardless that it gets on our nerves.

          This is not to say that results are always clear-cut. Even in America, a presidential campaign between God and the Devil would be closer than you think. After all, we’re only human. And not a little stupid. But for now, just calm down already.

          (John Burciaga of Newburyport writes on politics and social issues. His blog is www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com or email at ichabod142@gmail.com)

 

 

Mar
22

 

          Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.

          I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.

          A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.

          My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.

          I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.

          My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.

          Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.

          Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.

          I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.

          The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.

          Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.

          I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.

          For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.

          (John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )      

As I See It

 

                                  TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

 

          Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.

          I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.

          A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.

          My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.

          I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.

          My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.

          Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.

          Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.

          I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.

          The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.

          Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.

          I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.

          For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.

          (John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )      

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

As I See It

TRUMP’S THIRD PARTY

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

 

Ye who suffer the anguish of this presidential campaign: I feel not your pain.
I’ve loved every moment of it—hoping Donald would sweep the GOP board and spout nonsense till his head blows up, which it will.
A reminder: I never judge by poll results. You too can delve into websites and links and therein be oft mistaken for fellow travelers of political notions you wouldn’t hold in a million years. Those encountered in the bowels of enemy archives are only too glad to tell all they know and share what should by all rights be classified.
My conclusions about the 2016 race were first shared months ago in various venues and other media. I have no respect for those who, e.g., declare Obama the worst prez, ever, but can’t say why—yet are loathe to reveal their own choice lest they be laughed at by their friends.
I’ve long held that Hillary will be our next chief exec, Dems will retake the Senate, and the House reduced to a toothless majority. If proved wrong, may I be laughed to scorn—but not before I admit to my errant claims. You’ll not see many others who will do the same.
My sources are shakers and movers of both parties and this I know: since day one the GOP has assumed the selfsame conclusions, but with different reactions—they are terrified of Hillary because, unlike many of my nervous-nelly liberal friends, they know she can beat anybody in their rat pack. They too fear loss of the Senate.
Trump may hold most Republican voters in his pocket but that’s no national majority: it’s not enough to win, let alone to ride into the White House on a prancing steed. And once subject to the painful vetting that comes with being a nominee, and when the protesters are done with him, the sequel to his vaunted best-seller will be “The Art of the Squeal.” Those who feared he would start a Third Party: take note that he already has—and it’s one in GOP clothing.
Rubio, though a deft debate counter-puncher, is still a lightweight and this is heavyweight time. None of his Senate colleagues likes Cruz—(or wanted to sit next to him at Scalia’s funeral), so he won’t do either, and not just because he calls to mind Grandpa Munster. It was odd to see Christie reduced suddenly to a Trump sycophant, standing behind Donald looking like a penguin and clapping like a seal. Carly Fiorina was merely a campaign scold, the GOP’s answer to the Church Lady. And I feared that Mr. Mumbles, Ben Carson, would doze off during debate, then realized he was actually talking in his sleep. His sucking up to Donald of late simply means he wants to be Surgeon General or, in Trump’s muddled thinking, Education czar.
I’m in good company to think Trump wouldn’t make it this far—nor did David Gergen or anyone else—and if the nominee he will be the ruination of the GOP. Which would be a good thing–the fix they’re in is of their own making: the public anger they manipulated and directed toward Obama and Democrats has come back to bite them on the butt. In a Trump world they will have to reload, reorganize, come into the 21st century—and be the party of Lincoln again—though mayhap in an alternate universe.
The angriest of the GOP cohort was not miffed at “government” in general, but at their own party’s conservative leaders who couldn’t do what they promised—go to Washington, embarrass Obama and politically lynch him. Instead, he’s beaten them at every turn, and history will show his term was one of its noblest chapters.
Bernie’s just ahead of his time. Since the Cold War, fear-mongering has blinded Americans to differences in the various forms both of socialism and capitalism. His Democratic Socialism has helped to soften those misapprehensions, largely via his own personality and message. Few people anywhere dislike him, and he has run a clean campaign with no intent to divide the Democratic Party, as is the case with Republicans. He’s a prince of a fellow and good for Hillary, the Dems, and for our country–a prophetic voice with constant attention to what average Americans close their eyes—namely the gross inequalities that are inimical to our sense of decency and our religious heritage.
I love the meme that has graced the internet and social media for some time now: that Bernie should neither worry nor scare us; we celebrate a Jewish socialist every Christmas.
For now, there is a Third Party candidate. And he’s the problem, and you know his name.
(John Burciaga of Newburyport blogs at http://www.ichabodskin.wordpress.com and reached directly at ichabod142@gmail.com )

Nov
02

          Around coastal Georgia are what are known as frizzle-chickens, scruffy and battered-looking, ends of feathers twisted forward, and known for continuously scratching in the dirt. Earlier poor settlers, refugees from slavery, deemed the toil of such fowl as attempts to uncover evil spirits and expose them to sunlight, thereby killing them.

          After too many years of a Tea Party-driven GOP, other chickens have come home to roost, similarly battered from the wickedness of their assault on our body politic. Their scratching exposed their own evils as from a Pandora’s box that, in this case, turned on the miscreants themselves.

          Early on, even critics of the Tea Party began to wonder if some odd little truth were on their side; that they were doing the Lord’s work instead of endangering the Republic via government shutdowns and other mischief. But falls from grace generally occur near the tip of the arc and such has been the case here, and the Partyers are rapidly losing altitude. Ironically, they have done it to themselves.

          It is not that a slice of the citizenry is mad at all government, albeit innately miffed at liberals and the Democratic party. The real anger is at their own conservative legislators who arrived in Washington to lynch the president, only to have him out-maneuver them on every issue.

          Being black, Obama shrewdly ascertained it were not wise to appear either angry or belligerent, given that his critics are predominantly white; and like a master of martial arts, he has used the weight and aggression of his opponents to “throw” them at every turn. Stupidly, they persist in mistaking his tactic as a sign of weakness, leading to disaster for the Grand Old Party. Hence the rise of Donald and Ben the Outsiders, fueled by the wrath of right-wingers.

          This has led as well to a righteous venting of spleen on the part of establishment GOP leaders, all of whom are furious with Mr. Trump: Scott Walker knows that Donald ruined his candidacy and damaged his political career. Others are also at the tipping point of their runs for the White House—Mr. Oops, Rick Perry, was the first to leave in a huff and the rest will do well to follow. Why Fiorina hangs around is curious: she thinks that heading a corporation entitles her to political leadership: I was once a car-hop at a drive-in—can I be president?

          Others say: well, but Trump too is a businessman. Yes, look at him, and know this–he won’t be prez either, so he’s no better than I am. But Trump’s riches are a warning in this regard—by late spring Bush could well be ahead because money makes the conservative world go ‘round, and Jeb & Co. have their own stash of it. Regardless of the “life support” label on Bush right now, things can change dramatically as the disenchanted among the GOP tire of Don and Ben, as they did Herman Cain, and the reshuffle begins.

          Hence, not to get too excited about Ben Carson, or shall we say, Mr. Sleepy. I fully expect him to nod off during a future debate and fall face first into the treacle, as did the Dormouse of Alice in Wonderland. He is Exhibit A of the pitiable current crop of presidential wannabes: how could their Clown Car of candidates come to such a sorry pass had not Republicans fallen so far?

          And please do not confuse entertainment with substance: there are those who say the GOP debates are more “exciting,” as if that means something. So are tent revivalists and snake oil salesmen—and how many have been president? Were that a litmus test for leadership, Houdini would have been elected to wriggle out of the national and world problems of his day: after all, the White House, regardless of its occupant, is the Home of Bad Luck, the nerve center of all that’s wrong with the earth and its inhabitants. Burundi sneezes and we catch cold.

        The real problem with this nutty little political season is that certain Americans, primarily on the right, have attention spans of 2-3 seconds at a whack and easily mistake insanity for intelligence. One need only recall how conservatives fell all over Cain, the pizza king, and his “9-9-9” plan for national renewal and his “Uz-beki-beki-stan-stan” approach to foreign policy.

          As a political analyst, I’ve never relied on polls. I dig deeply into search engines and rub shoulders with operatives, which reveal the “ground games” of each party and campaign. And this is totally feasible in 2016: Hillary as Bride, Jeb as bridesmaid, Dems re-taking the Senate, and the GOP House majority greatly diminished. Plausible result: under the new regime, Republicans get dope-slapped back into political coherence.

          And all because the Clown Car has clearly de-railed, Paul Ryan inherits a hell of a mess as new Speaker of the House, and frizzle-chickens have come home to roost.

   (An edited version appeared earlier in the Daily News in eastern Massachusetts)

Jun
19

          I’m a long way and many years from an incident in that fair city, if so it may be called.

          In the 1960s, I had declined nomination as president of a Pennsylvania branch of the NAACP because I felt African Americans should hold its top post. While a person of “color,” I was keenly aware of the historic origins of the NAACP.

          Apparently, Rachel Dolezal, recently-resigned from the Spokane, WA branch, fancies herself black, “trans-racial” or whatever depending on the day and the opportunities at hand. My experience had its own unintended consequences and on occasion I was accosted, with curiosity but never in a threatening way, by black members who honestly wanted to know whether I were black or white. My answer: not black—Mexican father, and Caucasian mother of the fairest skin.

In those days, typical official forms had no room for nuance; you were white or black or Other. As they used to say in my native South, “one drop” of black blood made you, well, black, regardless of appearance. There was no “Mexican-American” box to check, and at best one might squeeze those words into the small remaining space.

          This was of no matter to my black colleagues. NAACP policy is that anyone can be a member and a leader, as we all know now by recent news reports. I did accept the role of vice-prez and Housing chair and successfully stopped summary evictions of blacks and Hispanics from public housing, often enforced just before Christmas.

          I doubt that Dolezal fooled anyone except maybe white folks—although no few black analysts and celebs have piled on since her out-ing in the press, due to her appropriation of a race that was not hers. All agree that she was an effective leader, which would have been enough; that and a timely admission-plus-apology would have shortened the news story considerably.

          In the NAACP, it’s what you do. The evictions mentioned were curtailed after my highly-publicized Report to the local Human Relations Commission that opened the eyes of the city, regardless of my “race.” I could have been tangerine or polka-dot.

          Then there was Baltimore: after King, Jr.’s assassination, and cities nationwide in turmoil and riots, four of us, three young black men and I, late at night and in my car, headed for Atlanta to represent our branch at the funeral. Another drove while I cat-napped till a wrong turn took us off the interstate and right into Baltimore, which was under curfew. I re-took the wheel but all up-ramps were blocked, and the broad avenues seemed to be one-way, leading us everywhere but back to the highway.

          Soon we were surrounded by the city’s Finest and I was hauled from the car and slammed into it face forward while ordered to repeat endlessly who we were and what we were up to.

          I spoke softly and respectfully as license and registration were checked. Not a word was said to my black colleagues, who were left in the car throughout. Clearly, the cops didn’t know what to make of my name or race, and I decided to leave that confusion to them. When police radio indicated potential threat elsewhere, I was pushed back behind the wheel while directions too rapid and muddled to understand were barked at me, with proviso that if caught again, things would be worse.

          We continued hopelessly lost, knowing that, having provided no excuse to deal harshly with us the first time, a future lack of excuse was in place by not being given escort out of the city.

          We aped past foot-police but armed and accompanied by dogs at every corner, till the interstate appeared but, again, the up-ramp was blocked. We held our seats and raced wrong-way up the ramp—only to be met by a National Guard convoy coming right at us. I had to move over to avoid collision, right-side tires biting into dirt and gravel, and past sleepy-faced Guardsmen deployed in mid of night—seemingly all in an instant.

          Back on the highway, but going south on north-bound lanes and fearful of encountering state troopers, we bounced and flew over a shallower section of median and into the southbound lanes. After long silence, my comrades asked where I learned how to “speak soft” to the fuzz, followed by their howling laughter.

          That was not the only close-call of our trip, but not till recent years have I reflected on what happened. Though not African American, as a southerner I knew well that regarding race relations in that day and time, “it was what it was,” and we were glad just to be safe and alive.

          Though to my colleagues I was thereafter “soul-brother,” I thought nothing of it, never used it in regard to myself, and soon all of us were back to serving “the cause.” Ms. Dolezal felt there was need for pretense. But just to do the right thing is enough.