My Argument with Thomas Wolfe
Perhaps you can.
But hurry. Before dusk
grays your vision as your hair.
Before the asphalt buckles
with the weight of tomorrow.
Grab a Greyhound, man.
See America again.
Even if it’s from
the worn and tired
seats at the back of the bus,
stale with the smell
of a million miles.
Just don’t be surprised
when no one greets you.
The years treat memories that way.
You’ll need to root around a bit
to find the ones that still say home.
Stevieslaw: Making America Great Again—wall by wall.
Pinko-communist, fascist, liberty hating liberal snowflakes would have you believe that the pillars of American greatness are anchored by our scientific, medical, and cultural achievements. Hah! Trump and his minions are simply not buying it and their plan is to cut Federal spending on science, medicine and culture to the bone.
Said Trump Spokesperson, Ina Quot, “America’s greatness has always be defined by the quality of its massive walls. How could any reasonable American compare the discovery of a polio vaccine by Jonas Salk to the construction of the massive Manhattan-Bronx wall**. When did discovering medicines become a job for a real man?” she asked. “And it goes without saying,” she continued, “that Jonas Salk was a Jew—a race so ignoble that it has been lying about its own near extinction for decades.”
“The Manhattan-Bronx wall on the other hand was built in 1971 by hard-working, white Americans with good American names—like Cathcart, Dreedle and Korn*, to keep high rent Manhattan forever separate from the low rent Bronx. Supermen with the physiques of a Steve Bannon built it. What could be more noble?”
“Liberals would have you believe,” she continued “that there is some value to a visit to the Chicago Art Institute, for example, while the real wonder is the incredible wall built to surround Chicago** during the Reagan years, to keep the city from infecting the countryside. The graffiti is breathtaking,” she noted.
“President Trump understands that it is America’s walls that make her great—and he will spend whatever it takes of hard-working American’s tax dollars to build more and better ones—between black and white, between rich and poor, between current resident and immigrant—the need is endless,” she said with a smile.
*see Catch 22 by Joseph Heller.
**Yes. I know there is no such thing.
Stevieslaw: The Republicans full court press on America’s health
Tom Price, Secretary of Health and Human Services, said today that the new health care plan was just the tip of the iceberg in the Republican plan to make Americans healthier. Said Mr. Price, “I find that people often don’t understand the underlying reasons behind seemingly disparate policy decisions and reach rather narrow, ungenerous conclusions.” “ For example,” he continued, “we have people railing against our plan to end Federal funding for mass transit—a huge cost-saving measure, without ever realizing that it is a multipurpose plan. We all know that walking is a best exercise and yet we fail to make the connection between the end of mass transit and the increase in walking that will be one of its results—live in one of New York’s boroughs and work in Manhattan?—you will soon be as healthy as a horse.”
Price also noted that the projected increase in average emergency room waiting times, from two hours to two weeks, as a consequence of the new health care law should not be taken in isolation. “Many Americans simply do not have the time to practice ‘mindfulness’—an Eastern practice that is wonderful for your well-being, what with job and family responsibilities. A visit to the ER could provide the time you need to learn to live in the moment, as you are forced to concentrate on easing your pain.”
“Republicans are all about opportunity,” concluded Price.
I just tried to link to Sarah Russell’s poems. They are her poems, not mine.
My Education
Grandma taught me to keep a kicker ace,
that post position trumped track condition,
and against all odds, to hit at seventeen.
She taught me to be leery
of one-eyed jacks, the queen of spades,
and politicians who found religion.
She told me often, and in crowds,
“that there moral majority
should mind its own damn business.”
Grandma taught me to laugh out loud.
She liked to watch Fox News
and rail about the morons
in America. She’d howl with joy
when Bill O’Reilly “came on to prance.”
She told me once that Palin had more balls than brains,
and could make her fortune dealing Faro in Las Vegas.
Grandma taught me I was lucky, so I am.
For thirty years
she shared a space with Mom
and Dad too small for three.
She never missed a chance to glare at Dad.
Grandma taught me
love is but a sprinter—lean
and easy from the gate,
but hate is built for distance–
surefooted, she will run,
and run, and run.
One of my earliest posts, but sadly perhaps even more relevant today.
I’ve been carrying this word, mean, around with me for weeks now. I’ll share. Yes, I know you didn’t ask. I will keep it short.
We seem to have lost one meaning of mean now that we need it most. What a shame.
We use the word “mean” in many ways. In statistics, it means “average” and is often different from the median or midpoint. As a verb, we use it for to signify or to have in mind or to intend. As an adjective—and as a noun —we use the word in at least three ways, although it seems that only one meaning is common. In today’s world, mean is hostile or rude, and I think it’s what your six year old has in mind when she complains that her eight year old brother is “being mean to me.” It can also have the meaning of poor or…
View original post 225 more words
Stevieslaw: Sack-cloth and Ashes
In what is probably not a hopeful sign for mankind, soon-to-be unemployed climate scientists have joined the most prominent apocalyptic groups. At a recent rally in Washington, Carbo Dio, soon-to-be former head of Nasa’s weather satellite program marched with a group dressed in sackcloth. But while the apocalypticans carried signs that said “the end is nigh,” Carbo’s sign simply said, “Scott Pruitt.”
“I give our species 100 more years at best,” said Carbo lighting up a cigarette, “although for the last 25 or so, you will no longer have to boil water for coffee. “You know,” he said after inhaling deeply, “I quit smoking for the usual health reasons, but it doesn’t seem to matter much anymore.” Eat, drink and be merry,” he concluded, taking a belt from a bottle of really fine scotch.
Stevieslaw: Republicans divided on how best to screw over the poor and unfortunate.
Republican legislators are at a crossroads in healthcare, with two very different plans offered up. The group led by Paul Ryan proposes to gut the ACA and replace it with meaningless incentives, while the group headed by Rand Paul hopes to completely torch the ACA and replace it with something really, really terrific as soon as hell freezes over.
“The two sides agree on only one thing,” said spokesperson Ian Heartles, “and that is the fundamental Republican tenet of feeding the rich by starving the poor.”
“Have no fear,” said Hartley, “If your life is hard because you are poor or unfortunate, I can assure you it will be much, much worse when we finish messing with the health care system.”
Stevieslaw: Uncle Arthur goes round the bend.
I remember it very clearly. It was in February of 1958 that the family convened at my grandma Ada’s apartment on Riverdale Avenue in Brooklyn for an emergency Cousin’s Club meeting. The kids were rounded up and unceremoniously sent out into the snow-covered streets to search for consequence-free mischief. In those days, the neighborhood had eyes and ears and transgressions were reported. I remember it so clearly, because three of us came back with near-frostbite, which was treated at the time with very hot water. There was a lot of screaming.
The kids all knew what the meeting was about. Uncle Arthur had gone round the bend again. Arthur owned a small hardware store on the corner of Hopkinson and Lot and periodically would lose his marbles. He would start playing soldier with the nuts and bolts—imagining himself as the general of generals, or when things really got out of hand, he would start accusing each and every customer of robbing him blind. He was deeply offended when Alice, his wife, and his other friends and relatives tried calming him down instead of backing him up. Occasionally, he would call the police to demand an investigation. Once or twice, he tried to burn the place down around him.
The Cousin’s Club met to decide on plan of action. This was well before the age of psychotropic drugs and affordable analysis, so the choice was intervention or the nut ward at Bellevue. The family decided to intervene—to babysit Arthur for a month or so, to see if he might recover. Intensive matzoh ball soup and cinnamon babka therapy was immediately initiated.
It is a good thing that Arthur never had the nuclear codes. Uncle Donny does. His current accusation—that Obama had his phone tapped, confirms what many of us have long suspected—Trump is round the bend. Could it be that Wormtongue (Steve Bannon) is currently running the country?
Bellevue or Babka, It’s past time for an intervention.
Stevie's Law 