STOP the Killing! STOP the Rhetoric!


This old gal has lived through three major assassinations, and many major wars: WWII, Korean War, Vietnam War, Gulf War, 9/11 and the current fifteen year slogging through bodies after bodies in Afghanistan and Iraq.  STOP! We have to stop the killing. Stop sending our brave men to die on foreign soils. Stop killing people in places we have no right to be. Stop killing our own people on our own soil.

Now we are facing a presidential candidate who openly advises his gun toting followers to kill his opponent if she happens to get elected. Granted, he didn’t use the word ‘kill’ but his comment was clear enough for any one of his goon squad followers to understand.

I, for one, don’t want to go through the assassinations again. Unless you have lived through a major assassination, it is hard to describe what happens to a nation. First, disbelief. How could such a thing happen in our wonderful nation? Then comes a deep sorrow. Even if you were not a supporter of the victim, a form of PTSD takes over and an overwhelming feeling of sadness that such a thing could have happened in our country to a nationally known figure—a president, a candidate, or a beloved leader. Please note that the Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King were all liberal, striving for social reforms, trying to make our country a better place to live. Men who had positive messages. After the sadness came shame. We were ashamed for our country. Assassinations only occurred in 3rd world barbaric countries, right? America was civilized, the shining city on the hill where everyone wanted to come. What happened? How had we degenerated into a country that shot its leaders? The answer was right in front of us. People were angry. The American promise was being fulfilled for many, but there were also many who were living in poverty and had to have someone to blame. The African Americans were the obvious targets. They wanted equality and the embittered white men and women of the south had to keep them down in order to inflate their own self-worth. George Wallace’s rhetoric eventually led to the death of many civil rights leaders

Yes, I remember George Wallace was shot also. By Arthur Bremmer, a white man seeking fame. Wallace lived. Few outside of the south mourned the man of hate who spewed messages of violence. It was ironic that the man who preached violence against blacks and defended segregation with force, was killed by a white man with no political agenda.

Hitler’s similar speeches ended up with the murder of approximately eleven million Jews, gypsies, homosexuals and intellectuals.

Now there is another man preaching hate, violence, misogyny, bigotry, isolationism, and working hard at turning one group against the other. He is nurturing the seeds of violence with words like “the election will be rigged” and hopes the 2nd Amendment (gun toting) crowd will take care of things if Hillary is elected. He encourages chants at his rallies of jailing her, and sounds of ‘kill the bitch’ and ‘lock her up’ echo through the stands filled with his supporters. He makes continual offhand comments about violence to protestors. Taking his past comments into account, here can little doubt about his message.

In my opinion, probably 95% of his supporters are not going to take up guns and create a coup d’etat. But I’ll bet there is a 5% who really love to hate, love the feeling of power they get from their big guns, and want the hard on they get from just thinking about putting a bullet in the bitch’s forehead.  Maybe only a ½%  out of that might actually consider planning their kill.

But isn’t that enough? If Trump has two to three million hopped up supporters, and half of them have guns available, and only a half of one percent of those with guns want to plan and try to carry out an assassination, that means there can be 5,000 to 7,500 lunatics trying to figure out a way to kill Hillary. This is why this kind of running off at the mouth is so dangerous and should not be easily dismissed.

Gun deaths by homicide, suicide or accident peaked at 37,666 in 1993, before declining to a low of 28,393 in 2000, as the data shows. Since then the total has risen to 31,328 in 2010, an increase of 2,935, or eight more victims a day. The ban on assault weapons took effect from 1994 to 2004. The impact the ban had is clear. But in 2015 the total deaths is just under 33,000.

Taking Trumps 2nd Amendment crack as a joke is ill advised if you consider the number of assault weapons now owned by Americans—the current estimate between three and four million. An estimated total of three hundred and ten million (310,000,000!) weapons owned by the general public!  There can be no joke when you are speaking to a group this large with both ownership and ability to carry out substantial damage.

It makes my head spin to imagine a man with this loose talk becoming president of the United States. He MUST be stopped. We MUST enact gun control.

I only hope all the candidates live to see the election. Trump MUST lose by such a landslide he disappears back into his gilded rat hole in disgrace. His supporters MUST be given a very clear message that what they support and how they support it is unacceptable in the country once referred to by their god Regan as “the shining city on the hill.”

Day 1 GOP Convention: The Deification of Teflon Trump


The first day of the GOP Convention is over. The Clowns haven’t disappointed. What is coming out of the Trump camp has actually moved the mess from the Clown simile closer to the loony bin.

It began with Melania Trump’s speech. It was heartfelt and her words were inspiring. But they weren’t her words. They were the words of Michelle Obama. Word for word, whole paragraphs. Melania isn’t a politician, she probably had someone writing the speech for her, but she should have been warned not to give too much information, she claimed the words and thoughts were her own and she had a little help putting it all together. That was before everyone realized those were Michelle’s words.

Clinton is now being blamed for Melania Trump plagiarizing Michelle Obama’s 2008 Democratic Convention opening speech. This is beyond even a head shaker. I’m waiting for the next shoe to drop, accusing Michelle Obama for plagiarizing Melania’s 2016 speech in Michelle’s 2008 speech. Why not? Time travel makes as much sense as the rest of the lies that are being bandied about. No one can justify stupidity and outright plagiarism by the Trump camp. But the apologists are saying it didn’t happen, and it’s Hillary Clinton’s fault people are calling Melania a plagiarist. Ummm, how does that work? Are they claiming Hillary wrote Melania’s speech?

The Trump camp’s response shows exactly who they are: liars, posers, scammers and cheats. Like Teflon Trump, they will do anything to cover up their mistakes and never own up to wrong doing.  But the most important aspect this kerfuffle points out is the complete disrespect for their followers’ intelligence. Trump obviously believe his supporters are so ignorant, so stupid, they can’t see outright plagiarism when it’s in front of their noses.  And maybe Teflon Trump is right.

But as an interesting side point, as Oscar Wilde said, “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” What could be a greater compliment to Michelle Obama than to use her exact words in such an important moment—the opening day of your husband’s leadership of the GOP and his bid for president? Perhaps Michelle should send Melania a note thanking her for such praise?

For a moment in time, I felt a little compassion for Melania, but it was fleeting. She got what she bargained for, a billionaire husband, warts and all. Every success comes with a price and I wonder at this moment if she feels the money and fame was worth the public humiliation she now endures. My question for the day, will Teflon Trump fire her for failing in this momentous event? He’s kicked out people for less. We shall see.

The other telling moment was Trump’s arrival in a blast of light. I’m wondering what the Evangelicals thought about that?  Was it positive or negative?  I almost laughed at the cheap carnival theatrics. Then I realized it gave several messages—one was hokey and very reminiscent of WWF bad guys taking the ring. Perhaps Trump thought to enhance his image of a big, bad man who was going to be . . .  Be what? Savior? Tyrant? Demagogue?

But Trump’s other message? Not so benign. The blinding light and music arrival was also the way the Devil or Satan arrives in horror films. Think a flash and he appears. I’m sure he believes he’s a god, but the one he chose to represent might be a warning to all believers—here comes the anti-Christ, or the fallen angel, Lucifer. It was a move Hitler or Mussolini would have been proud of, if the technology had existed in their day.  Trump followers burst into applause.

This is a man with no limits to his self-aggrandizement. He doesn’t just want to be President, he wants to be God, Emperor, and, like comic book villains, Ruler of the World!

Those of us old enough to remember this scenario have seen it before, and the results weren’t pretty. Trump isn’t a graphic novel villain, he is real, and so desperate for power and adulation he will do anything, say anything, to gain it.  If by some insane juxtaposition of the stars, he gets his power, he has no intention of wielding it other than for his own financial and egoistic benefit.  We have no superheroes to come and save us, the only ones who can save the world are we the people. We have the ultimate kryptonite at our disposal and we must use it. It’s called the vote.

Trump vs. Kim Jong Un


There are times when you just have to sit back and let the world pass you by or you can’t get to sleep. Bedtime is my time to grind teeth in angst. Last night my angst came from doing my taxes and contemplating the impossible presidency of Donald Trump. But relief finally came when I stretched my imagination to a probable diplomatic meeting between a newly elected President Trump and Kim Jong Un.
I imagined the conversation might go something like this:
Trump: So Kim Jong, son of Il, funny and appropriate name, by the way. You do look a little ill. Are you not feeling well, little man? And you are a little guy. (Turns and looks at Secret Service contingent standing behind him and addresses them- How am I doing? We sure are having fun aren’t we?)
Kim Jong: What you mean by ‘little guy?’ Be aware and hold your tongue big fat greasy American with strange orange squirrel on head. You are in the presence of Supreme God Leader President For Life Of Empire Of North Korea. Smelly barbarian only serves for 4 years and can be thrown out unless voted in next term. Kim Jong Supreme Imperial Choice Of God is ruler for life.
Trump: Maybe, but I’m a billionaire and big businessman. Little guy like you probably has a teeny weenie too…and no supermodel to bang every night. I love to see her on her knees. (Turns and winks at Secret Service. One gives him a thumbs up.)
Kim Jong: As Imperial Supreme Leader I can have anyone I want in my bed. Beautiful women, pretty boys, orangutans…who or whatever I want. Maybe you even get on your knees for me. Hehehehe! (Turns and waves to ten thousand soldiers standing at attention in the square. There is a thunderous click as they all bring their heels together and laugh on command.)
Trump: You think that’s so hot? I have new ICBMS that are so accurate they can give you a haircut…not that you need it with that dumb flat top. (Grins at bodyguards and nods. What do you think boys? Like the way I slid the BM in on him? I warned I was gonna bomb the shit out of him, now I can bomb him with shit. Good joke huh? Isn’t it fun up here? Secret Service remain motionless.)
Kim Jong: Looks like he’s texting. One of his officers comes over and bends his ear close, then nods as he turns and straightens up before walking away. Kim Jong waves at the military in the square who click their heels again. He turns to Trump and speaks — I don’t think you are so funny, and you won’t either when my first nuclear bomb hits Hawaii. I have ordered one bomb for each insult to the Holy Imperial Sovereign of Sacred Land Of Beauty.
Trump: Turns and motions to one of the Secret Service men. Man walks over, opens a case and displays it in front of Trump who leans over and fumbles around inside.
Man With Case: Mr. President, Sir, you have pushed the red button and entered the code for Pyongyang.
Trump: So? I’ve had enough of this dumbass kid. I’m going to bomb the shit out of him like I promised.
Man With Case: Mr President, we have to get out of here, and fast.
Trump: What’s the rush? It will take hours to get the bombs here from the States.
Man With Case: Uhhh, Mr. President. The nukes will be launched from a submarine just off the coast in the Yellow Sea only a few minutes away. Didn’t you read the briefing the Joint Chiefs gave you before we left?
Trump: I don’t bother with that shit. I’m smarter then all of those assholes, especially the fat assed broad who thinks she’s an Admiral. And what the hell is that whistling sound I hear overhead?

We could be so screwed!