Showing posts with label Wizard Of Oz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wizard Of Oz. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

The new GQP mascot

Why doesn't the GQP just get it over with already.

It's long past time to stop insulting the image of the gentle, majestic elephant by using it as a symbol for an insurrectionist party made up of spineless, ass-kissing, backward-looking, boot-licking cowards.

"C'mon Jeff, tell us how you really feel."

It's not hard to recognize they've never been ones for accuracy or truth, but you'd think they'd really like to have something more representative of their true character to put on their Made In China red caps and Let's Go Brandon t-shirts.

And what could be better than a mascot that universally represents the total absence of courage.

Today's GQP lives their sad, fearful little lives scared of everything good, right, fair and just. To name a few: women's rights. LGBTQ rights. Gay marriage. Gun control. Universal healthcare. NATO. Ukraine. Abortion rights. Voter rights. BLM. Police reform. Truth. Facts—real ones, not the alternative kind.

The list goes on longer than one of Moscow Mitch's floor speeches.

Seriously, the best thing they could do is reposition themselves as what they've always been: the party of people your parents warned you about becoming. After all does anyone really want to grow up to be Ted Cruz? Jim Jordan? Cadet Bone Spurs? Lindsey Graham? John Cornyn? Tom Cotton? Lauren Bobert? Marjorie Taylor Greene? It doesn't matter. Insert any Republican politician name here (with the exception of Liz Cheney and Adam Kinzinger, for the moment).

I will admit one thing the GQP does exceedingly well. They confirm the obvious to anyone watching.

That besides courage, they're also missing a heart and a brain.

Thursday, January 7, 2021

The party's over

Ding dong the GOP is dead. And it wasn’t a house that fell on it. It was Trump Tower.

It’s about time. It came into focus the last four, dreadful, depressing years, but it’s really been happening since Nixon and before. The party of family values, fiscal responsibility, military supporters and state’s rights has sold their souls—or whatever was living in that space—and become the party of a porn-star banging draft-dodger who’s gone bankrupt at least six times and tried to take federal control of elections.

I could list all the ways and reasons Cadet Bone Spurs is the most vile, vulgar, repulsive, incomprehensibly stupid human on earth. But they’re all well known by now. And in an extremely uncharacteristic move I want to keep this post short tonight.

After yesterday’s attempted coup by his radicalized supporters, a few things are clear.

First, as a country we really need to up our educational game. If just fifty percent of those asshats storming the capitol had teeth, an eighth-grade education and a class in civics, maybe they would’ve had a shot at understanding what a monster they’ve been supporting.

Maybe.

Next, somebody has to call a handy man to come put bars on the windows at the Capitol. You’d think after 9/11 and two Capitol Police were shot and killed there a couple years ago they might’ve tightened things up security wise. If bars are too bold a move, start with thicker glass or two-inch thick plexiglass. You'll thank me later.

Also, let's be honest—this white privilege bullshit has to stop. I know it’s been said everywhere but I’m going to say it again: if that had been a Black Lives Matter protest, with protesters packing automatic weapons, dressed like Vikings and screaming like banshees heading into the capitol, the police would’ve shot first and asked questions later. They also would’ve been handing out plastic handcuffs and had prisoner buses lining the National Mall with their engines running.

There has to be a shortcut to getting seditionists like Ted Cruz and Josh Hawley out of government (unless it’s a federal prison). The Insurrection Act was written for traitors like them, and there needs to be a quicker way to implement it. Maybe not having to have bipartisan agreement would move things along a little faster.

The good news is democracy will survive, but thankfully the GOP, at least in its current form, will not. Trump will be gone, and get far less media than he gets now. Yesterday was the topping on his legacy as a traitor. And while nothing has been able to stick in the last four years, I have a feeling this will. He's already striking a much more concilliatory tone this morning, and even got close to conceding the election. So he's realized the errors of his ways and he's a changed man, right?

If you believe that I have a membership at Mar-A-Lago I'd like to sell you.

As expected, right on schedule, the infighting, backpedaling, denials, conspiracy theories and revisionist history is already in full swing and spewing out of the unstable genius’ enablers.

Southern belle Lindsay Graham gave a drunken, sweaty speech when they reconvened for the electoral vote count last night about how he supports the Constitutional process. He obviously forgot he was on the phone with Georgia two weeks ago threatening federal investigations if they didn’t come up with more votes for tRump.

The truth is the GOP should've died a long time ago.

It's hard to figure how they've survived this long without a heart, a brain or courage.

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Storm watch

Years ago there was a funny commercial for a now defunct airline that satirized local news and their panicky Storm Watch weather segments by showing a storm cloud that looked like this one.

Now, making fun of consistently warm and sunny weather in the City of Angels isn't exactly a new idea. But it's always a sure bet. And an easy laugh.

The minute there's a mist (a real mist, not like Stephen King's The Mist - that would be another kind of "watch" altogether) or drizzle in L.A., news programs immediately shift gears and start competing frantically for ratings.

They don't waste any time breaking out their state-of-the-art, scientific, grotesquely expensive Doppler Radar. Mega Doppler Radar. Doppler Radar 2018. And Doppler Radar So Accurate It'll Make Your Head Explode.

As I write this, it's raining outside. Not a hard rain—light and steady. Just like my high school girlfriend. And in a curious case of life imitating wanna-be art, the news weather people—excuse me, meteorologists—are all on Storm Watch for real right now.

It's as if the city was populated entirely by relatives of the Wicked Witch of the West, and newscasters feel they have to get the word out before water hits any of them.

One of the best commentaries on L.A. weather and the way residents react to it was in Steve Martin's L.A. Story. Martin played a whacky weatherman (aren't they all?) who always tried to find entertaining ways to report weather in a city where the weather never changes.

Until one day, it took a terrible turn for the worse.

Random comment: even though it has nothing to do with rain or Storm Watch, the Prius key joke in La La Land is one of my favorite L.A. jokes. Ok, back on point.

Anyway, rain. L.A. You see where I'm going here. I was thinking I'd wrap up this post by writing my way into an end line like a hard rain's gonna fall. Or who'll stop the rain. Maybe rainy days and Mondays. Something like that.

Instead I've decided to abandon the whole Storm Watch/L.A. thing, and leave you with one of my favorite rain-related songs ever.

Dry humor? You're all wet? Nice day if it doesn't rain? How about a ripped from the headlines one like Stormy Daniels. No, I didn't think so. Oh well, I tried. Not hard, but I did try.

Please to enjoy Flight of the Conchords I'm Not Crying.

Monday, August 21, 2017

A-maize-ing

Johnny Carson was born there. So was Ashton Kutcher. And The Duke himself, John Wayne. Herbert Hoover is from there. As are comedian Adam DeVine and actor Elijah Wood. TV Superman George Reeves hails not from Krypton, but from Woolstock, Iowa.

The point is a lot of famous things come out of Iowa. Not the least of which is corn.

I had my very first experience with Iowa this past weekend. Instead of going to one of the premier universities in the California system located virtually around the block from our house, my daughter had her heart set on a private college in Iowa, which we moved her into this past weekend.

Sure, it would've been nice to have her closer to home, but then we wouldn't get to pay out-of-state tuition, take two airplanes, drive two hours and travel 1,692 miles to see her. Apparently she doesn't know there's an east coast and it would've been even further from us. Maybe she'll learn about it in college.

Here's the thing about Iowa: cornfields everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean everywhere.

There's a certain beautiful monotony (Note to Rich Siegel: Beautiful Monotony, The Whiskey '06) to the rows of corn as you zip by them on the two-lane highways. And what it made me think about—besides how I was going to die when the driver of one of the eighteen-wheelers coming the other way fell asleep and slammed into me head on—was just how big a part cornfields have played in some of my favorite movies.

I know people don't like Signs because a) it stars Mel Gibson b) it's directed by M. Night Shyamalan and c) it's a story about faith lost and found, and not aliens (for the most part). But it does have Joacquin Phoenix, German Shepherds and cornfields, so that makes it a must see in my book.

The ultimate father-son film couldn't help but be corny. Field Of Dreams takes place almost entirely in an Iowa cornfield. One of the ball players in the movie asks Kevin Costner, "Is this heaven?" To which he responds, "No, it's Iowa." Boy is it.

The first film anyone mentions when I say cornfield is Children of the Corn. Not exactly quality motion picture faire, but a horror classic for it's kitschiness and that tall, ugly red-headed kid. That short kid is yelling and chewing scenery all throughout the movie. Good thing most of it's edible.

Lions and tigers and corn, oh my. Perennial favorite The Wizard Of Oz not only has a cornfield, but a talking, singing and dancing scarecrow right in the middle of it. Ironically, the song the scarecrow sings is the same one our fake president sings to himself every night.

The other thing Iowa (and South Dakota where I connected through) have plenty of are the nicest people I've ever met anywhere. It's startling how genuine they are. Glad to see you, ready to help, open and honest, it really is a refreshing change of pace.

Now if they could just truck that to the big cities the same way they do their corn.