Archive for September, 2016

Get A Clue, Bub

Just heard a young thing (male) on the teevee say of Hillary Clinton:  “nobody wants to vote for her.”

I’ve been othered by masters of the art and so I know a privileged prick when I hear one.

I am not amused. Nor, I suspect, were the millions of people (women) who support Clinton.



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Thank You, Goddess!


Will wonders never cease? The Arizona Republic just endorsed Hillary!

“Since The Arizona Republic began publication in 1890, we have never endorsed a Democrat over a Republican for president. Never. This reflects a deep philosophical appreciation for conservative ideals and Republican principles.

This year is different.

The 2016 Republican candidate is not conservative and he is not qualified.

That’s why, for the first time in our history, The Arizona Republic will support a Democrat for president.”

You can read the rest at http://www.azcentral.com/story/opinion/editorial/2016/09/27/hillary-clinton-endorsement/91198668/.

Their letters page will blow up! Subscriptions will be cancelled! Panic attacks will be had all over the valley!

I doubt this endorsement will move any Phx Thug to vote for HRC. The Repulsive must be betting that the valley’s huge Mormon population will support their decision, even if they don’t act on the recommendation. Mormons are said to detest Trump for his position on Islam, which edges a bit too close to their own history of religious persecution for their comfort.

(Margot Yvy’s image depicts Minerva, the goddess of wisdom.)


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A Most Satisfactory Win


Nebraska fans don’t seem to care who is coming to play football in their stadium–they turn out for every opponent, no matter how small or how imposing. Last Saturday marked the 350th sellout in a stadium that seats more than 90,000 people. That record dates back to my time at NU, people–nineteen and sixty-effing-two. Of course the stadium was less capacious then. Nebraska had not yet won all those national championships, and still we came to watch.

Faithful fans were amply rewarded last Saturday when the fabled Oregon Ducks came to town. I was certain beforehand that Big Red would lose this game, maybe by fifty points, given Oregon’s history as a powerhouse. Happily, they are so no longer. Nebraska looked good against them on both offense and defense throughout the game. Then the Huskers pulled out a last-minute win by stopping Oregon’s last desperate drive at mid-field on fourth down. Nebraska then took the ball and marched it smartly into the end zone for the win. Hooray!

Nebraska’s new coach, Mike Reilly, spent many years at Oregon State where his team was regularly left in the dust by Oregon. I’m sure I saw Reilly weeping after the game on Saturday. Revenge is sweet, sayeth the long-suffering coach, under his breath of course.

I thought twice about attaching the following photo, given its mean-spiritedness about Oregon’s fancy unis. But I still feel sufficiently jubilant about the game not to give a shit.



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Elusive Names


My memory for proper names has got up and went. It started when I was still teaching. I’d be yammering along and suddenly forget the name of some important figure. Grad students learned to recognize the strained look on my face and helpfully called out names: “Aristotle!”  “Cicero!” “Joe the Plumber!”

Great fun was had by all. Except me.

The problem is called “semantic dementia,” and mine has worsened as I’ve grown older. (All us olds hope that the name and the condition bode nothing worse). Experts say memory loss can be mitigated by mental effort and practice. So I’ve developed a little game to play while exercising or driving that I call “What IS That Guy’s Name?”

Yesterday, for example, I was thinking about football, given that today has the first full schedule of pro games. While I can easily conjure up an image of the Green Bay quarterback, I could NOT recall his last name (yes, the condition is that aggravating.) I tried “Aaron Richards” and “Aaron Roberts” and other near-misses. No dice. I have learned that if I wait a few minutes the loop will come around, as my sister might say (she suffers from this condition as well), and sure enough it did. I hope the folks in line at the grocery store weren’t frightened when I suddenly blurted out “Rodgers!”

The condition is quirky. I could not remember the name of the former quarterback of the Cardinals either. I could conjure up his face and I easily remembered that he is now huckstering for a plumber’s outfit. I tried “Luke” and “Kent,” (see how this works?) to no avail, and had to look up Kurt Warner’s name when I got home.

Alas, my memory for other stuff still works just fine. The moment I awakened this morning I remembered that today is the anniversary of 9/11. That brought up a host of memories of that dark Tuesday back in 2001 and its awful aftermath, along with the knowledge that my country is still caught up in its bloody consequences.

I hope Aaron Richards has a better day today than I’m having.





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_c6igywhc1ny-tks1s-wxkci-aaaaaaaaaem-j4yffnpbpfs-s1600-498917_39849074 Donald Trump is an authoritarian, and so are those who are attracted to him. (I exclude from the category of “authoritarian” those of his admirers who are too lazy to learn anything about how the world works–they are just ignorant). Authoritarians believe in the exercise of power, but only if this is exerted by themselves and/or the bigger, badder authoritarians they revere.

The ‘fifties father figure was the embodiment of authoritarianism, the man whose word was law in the household and whose every need had to be met Right Fucking Now. Or Else. (HuffPost had a nice essay on authoritarianism back in December of last year:  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jonathan-weiler/authoritarianism-at-the-h_b_8750344.html;  see also Vox, February 15-16 of this year).

Unfortunately, authoritarianism is ordinarily available only to males for the simple reason that most women are not allowed enough power to give orders that must be obeyed. This gendered aspect of the condition is why anxious would-be authoritarians like Rinse Pubus feel free to tell Hillary Clinton to smile more often–as though her face belongs to him.

Vladimir Putin is the type locality of authoritarianism, and that’s why Trump admires him so. Vlad runs Russia with an iron hand, so much so that everyone is afraid to cross him. Trump is too stupid to see that Vlad was making fun of him when he relied on a Russian near-pun to describe Trump that can confuse those who don’t speak the language–the word Trump’s folks translated as “brilliant” can also mean “vivid” or “colorful.” And that’s most likely what Vlad meant (was he cleverly referring to Trump’s hair?)  If this is so, the comment of which Trump is so fond is a subtle put-down.

I hate authoritarians. The ones I know talk too loud and take up too much space in elevators and parking lots. I most certainly don’t want us to elect one.





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I had great hopes for last night’s so-called “Commander-in-Chief” interviews with the Presidential candidates. After it was over I added that hope to a pile of others that have been crushed by real life.

Matt Lauer wasted the first ten minutes of Hillary’s interview by asking her about the e-mails. As if the e-mails have anything to do with military and strategic issues. He repeatedly interrupted her as she tried to answer his questions in the level of detail required by their seriousness, talking over her again and again as she tried to finish a point.

Not so Trump. Lauer allowed him to blather along without interruption even though nothing Trump said made any sense or had any connection to reality.

Can anyone still think gender doesn’t matter? Will Hillary have to put up with this crap when she becomes President? If so, I think she should assign a secret service agent (preferably female) to take aside any reporter who interrupts her in order to impart a little lesson on real-politick.




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