Rock Around the Clock
As our caveman friends above play a very early game of rock, paper, scissors, it makes me long for a simpler world. I’m as hooked on modern civilization as anyone else who was born and raised in it, but it doesn’t take an Einstein to see that we’ve created an unsustainable world and it will be our undoing.
Most people with even a nodding acquaintance with history saw this past week coming way back in November of 2016. Many wrote about it. And I don’t mean to imply that this past week will ever be seen as the apex of trouble. Far from it.
For many people, emotionally-damaged authoritarians are easy to spot from a mile away, but they tend also to be highly attractive to people suffering from fear of “the other,” (other than white, heterosexual Christians, in the case of the U.S.) which is why these despicable and dangerous manipulators continue to thrive all across the planet, even in democracies. It is the educated who recognize the behavior and see the dangers ahead of time—which is precisely why Republican-controlled states currently spend much less money on education and encourage distrust in experts, scientists, and journalists. Quite simply, the truth is their enemy.
Accordingly, dictators and wanna-be-strongmen always attack the press and attempt to form a single, official source of information; one that they can control. (Sound familiar?) The would-be strongman wants you to believe that he alone is your savior and that anyone who speaks or acts against him is a radical psycho and an enemy of the “good.” It’s a simple, schoolyard bully tactic but it works time and time again. It is how the mainstream (legitimate) media came to be despised by some; for telling the truth about those who would lie to you. It never fails to astound me the number of Americans who cannot see that journalists are the ONLY thing that can prevent unscrupulous, political actors from lying to you about things that matter to your life. Even if some or many of them are lying to you, it is better than a single source of state-approved news.
In the past week, the supposed leader of the United States said nothing to honor the over 100,000 Americans lost to the pandemic, but criticized three female politicians for their looks or sexual behavior. He said nothing to calm or comfort the millions of Americans who are extremely disturbed by the systemic racism the U.S. continues to support over fifty years after the Civil Rights Act, but threatened to shoot them if they stole something. He encourages the violence of racists while threatening protestors with violence.
Back in 2016, looking for any kind of silver lining after the horror of his election sunk in I said, “I guess if he burns the country down, maybe people will realize it does matter who you vote for. This stuff doesn’t just take care of itself.” There is plenty of blame to spread around for allowing him to sneak in through the basement door of the White House, but an enormous amount of it belongs to those who don’t vote at all.
He now clearly knows that at this point, he cannot win reelection on merit. So his narcissism dictates that if the country rejects him, he must destroy it, as he does all of his enemies. The riots play into his hands in a way, because only under extreme conditions of violence, uprising, and fear does he stay in the White House beyond January 2021.
But why must we wait until then? When are Republican leaders going to stop pretending this man is mentally fit to be in charge of anything? If he were an airline pilot or even a city bus driver, his behavior would have gotten him fired years ago. Yet here we are. The country burns and we’re in his hands.
Find a place to hide and watch what happens.
(I am sorry none of that commentary was humorous. I just couldn’t find anything funny about this past week. Give me some time, though.)
In the meantime, let’s have some fun with Wayno’s Bizarro cartoons from last week now, shall we? We’re due for a chuckle.
Pretty much all team sports are fantasy at this point. I think as a society, we go waaaay overboard with sports, but I do miss them. And I feel sorry for folks whose whole life is sports as they navigate the pandemic. Regardless of the reason, it’s gotta suck major league to have your favorite pastime taken from you suddenly and indefinitely.
Of course, now they’ll have to share the remaining coconuts with whoever shows up to apply for the job.
Over on Wayno’s weekly cartoon blog post, he gets all braggy about his moldy cheese. Go see for yourself but don’t forget to come back and finish this one.
I want to squirt this guy with my lapel flower, if you know what I mean. Sheesh!
At the risk of being thought an egomaniac, I will draw your attention to the portrait on the twenty. I’ve not asked Wayno if the resemblance to yours truly is intentional, but it is striking.
She should also learn about critics. Throwing herself into thorn bushes would be good start.
Thus concludes our tour of this corner of Rancho Bizarro, Jazz Pickles. Thanks for enduring my sober opening remarks with a smile on your avatar. If you like what I’m doing and saying and that I do it without ads, please consider tossing us a cookie now and again via the links below. We’ll be much obliged.
Until next time, be smart, be grateful, find something to laugh about, dance often.
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