Pardon Me?

 

Oh, my lawdy! I'm starting to get the vapors!

President Biden pardoned his son, Hunter!

What ugly, brutal miscarriage of justice is this?

And don't forget! He PROMISED us he wouldn't do it!

Just because multiple Presidents in the past have pardoned relatives (Abraham Lincoln, Bill Clinton, Donald Trump) doesn't allow Biden to do the same. He had declared repeatedly that he wouldn't do it.

Me? I don't really care. It doesn't affect my opinion of Biden one way or another.

Why did he change his mind?

Biden's earlier declaration was based on a series of misinterpretations and errors in judgment.

1) I think he really thought Kamala Harris would win. It was not a huge mistake. I fully expected her to win as well. We both over-relied on the common decency of the American people.

Oops.

The idea here is that there would be little value in viciously pursuing a President's son, especially for crimes that most are rarely prosecuted for and virtually where no one goes to jail.

2) He then thought that with the Orange fascist in control, he would have little desire to pursue vendettas. I mean, really, what was there in the con man's character to lead you to believe that he would waste his time demolishing opponents he had beaten?

Oops.

3) It would look bad as to their stand against the criminal clown, making it look like they were just like him.

As if he would care.

Oops.

Cut to current times.

King Fool has been accumulating the worst collection of cabinet nominees in the history of ever - billionaires, sexual assaulters, fraudsters, criminals, those who want to destroy the department they head, and on and on. It's embarrassing, really. But I guess MAGA is no longer capable of being embarrassed. It's a cult, worshipping at the feet of their criminal overlord, not a political party.

In that tone, it becomes clear that Mister Vicious is dead serious about retribution. His FBI selection, Kash Patel, has an actual hit list of people who have committed NO CRIME other than stand up to the unholy narcissist-in-chief. MAGA congress members want to prosecute everyone involved in the J6 committee - including witnesses.

Biden had to see this monstrous march to prosecutorial insanity and decided he had to get his son out of the way.

Under that steady stream of vile bile?

I WOULD EFFING ABSOLUTELY DO THE SAME!

The reaction to this shouldn't be "Heavens to Murgatroyd! How dare that man pardon his son after telling us he wouldn't do it!"

It should be, "Why did he do it? Because an unholy s---storm is coming our way! Anyone who doesn't bend the knee will be destroyed!"

Look at Joe and Mika of Morning Joe. They groveled all the way to Mar-A-Lago and, in the process, demolished their feeble little morning show. But you know what? Maybe they feared what standing up to him would mean. Fear led them to choose safety over courage.

And we are going to see this repeated over and over again.

This is how fascists win.

I don't blame Biden for saving his son. It may not be the only pardon to come. He may have to protect many who have committed no crime but will have their lives consumed anyway.

Yeah. There's a lot I could say, but I'll leave it to other posts. One biggie is when MAGAs try to compare the pretend crimes of those who stand against him to the REAL crimes of the Orange Buffoon.

Yeah. It's going to be a rough four years.

The Cleansing of the Soles: Mysterious Photograph #2

 Everybody has dreams. 

One of mine was to see my name as an author in a pulp fiction magazine.  I was reading Worlds of If and Fantastic Stories from when I was as young as 8, buying them for 35 cents.  I fantasized about what it would be like to have a story published in them one day.

Sixty-one years later, I still dream about it.  What feeble efforts I made over the years were ignored and easily swatted away,

But I'm not giving up.  I have found a contest in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, a short (flash fiction) story based on a "mysterious photograph."

My first submission, One Small Step, did not win.  It did not receive honorable mention.

Nevertheless, I persist.

I submitted the story below. my second attempt.

I am pleased to report that it was runner-up, and my name will be in the January/February issue of Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine! 

So, part of my dream has been accomplished!  The story itself won't be, but my name will be in a pulp magazine, and for writing!

This reinvigorates me to keep trying, that maybe there is some merit to my writing!

And now, for the winning runner-up!

The Cleansing of the Soles

by T. M. Strait 

It had to be you. Of all the people to walk into my basement, it had to be Marvin. Restraining order be damned – there you were.

“Get out!’ I shouted. “You can’t be here!”

“Yes, I can! I don’t care what the lawyers say! This is my house, and I’m taking it back!” Marvin moved menacingly toward me, a bat in his hands.

Enough of his belittling and abuse! I’d had my fill. Rather than cower, I surprised him by rushing toward him, my arms in front of me. I took advantage of his confusion, and I knocked him down. He fell heavily, his head crunching on the concrete basement step.

He didn’t move. “Marvin? Are you okay?”  I kicked him, but he didn’t respond. I checked for breath. There was none. A pool of blood under his head seeped out to redden the gray of the step.

Marvin would never threaten me again. It wasn’t easy, but I stuffed his body in the freezer. I mopped up the blood. I thought I was done when I noticed the blood on the bottom of my sneaker.

In a panic, I took off my shoes, and threw them to the washer.

I needed to be done with this.  I wanted the last remnant of Marvin off of me.

I wanted to wash that man right out of my sole.

One Small Step: Mysterious Photograph #1

Everybody has dreams. 

One of mine was to see my name as an author in a pulp fiction magazine.  I was reading Worlds of If and Fantastic Stories from when I was as young as 8, buying them for 35 cents.  U fantasized about what it would be like to have a story published in them one day.

Sixty-one years later, I still dream about it.  What feeble efforts I made over the years were ignored and easily swatted away,

But I'm not giving up.  I have found a contest in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, a short (flash fiction) story based on a "mysterious photograph."

I submitted the story below.  I did not win the grand prize of $25.  I did not get honorable mention.

Nevertheless, I persist.

I have submitted two more stories since.  I've heard nothing back, but I am determined not to give up.  Like a monkey in front of a typewriter, someday I may stumble out a winning entry.

Meanwhile, as I lose, I will continue to post out my losing entries as the deadline passes.

One Small Step

by T. M. Strait

I don't always think things out. Rob the Scherba Museum's space exhibit of its rare Martian rocks? Not a bad idea. Hiding in a spacesuit until closing? Not so much.

Lisa got me into the suit and convinced others it was part of the show. Near closing, she told them she needed to take me to a backroom to remove the suit.

Instead, she left me in the suit, kissing me for luck, leaving bright red lipstick on the face glass.

I waited several hours after closing, timing my exhibit exploration with the security guard's routine.

The rocks lay on a Martian landscape, including a Mars Rover. Lisa's app neutralized the lasers protecting it. I filled the suit's pockets with valuable rocks. Lisa's fence thought we could get millions!

I left the museum and went into the streets behind it. Lisa was to meet me and help me out of the suit, 

But there was no Lisa. I waited. And waited.

Dawn approached. Where was she?

I heard a ding from inside the suit. A voice said, "Ten minutes air remaining."

What? I had no idea how to get out of this suit. I screamed for Lisa.

I don't know if she heard me, but suddenly she was skipping towards me. She smiled, reaching into my spacesuit pockets, gathering the Mars rocks. I couldn't hear her, but she was dancing and making happy noises. She mouthed the words, "Thank you!"

And she danced away.

Nope. Didn't think that part out.

Thanksgiving in the New Era

 Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

In the past, I have blogged a list of 31 things I am thankful for, revising it each year for any changes.

That's very tough to do this year.

It's not that I don't have plenty to be grateful for. I am thankful for my family, my friends, our health, our pets, my church, and many of my church family.

I am thankful that my son, Benjamin, and our friend, Anita Lynn, will be with us for Thanksgiving.

There are many personal things that I am thankful for.

But it is difficult to be completely thankful when the nation that I love so much has had its happiness and future snatched away from us.

It's difficult to live in a county where 89% of the voters chose the orange fascist.

I won't go into all the many ways that this unfortunate decision will affect us in the US and around the globe. I'll have plenty of other posts about that.

I wish I could be like so many who have decided to cut these poisonous people from their lives. I'm doing it to the extent that I can. But it's not easy when the view that thinks this is okay is dominant here. That this was just another election, and why can't we all be friends.

As many have clarified, it's not a difference in politics; it's a base difference in morality. And that is hard to get around.

I'm doing the best I can. Thankfully, I no longer have to work in an environment filled with his supporters.  

Tomorrow, I have to go into the Lion's Den and have a Thanksgiving meal with relatives who support him. If I was a stronger person, I would refuse to go there. But I can't do that. It's not in me. But I  will do my best to minimize interaction beyond what is needed to be polite.

Some who read this blog may wonder when it will turn to a broader range of topics—family, nostalgia, movies/TV/books/theatre, etc.

Maybe that will come in time.

But right now, there is too much anger and fear and rage.  

I can't let it go. To do so would be to surrender to fascism and to accede to the immorality of the narcissist in chief.

If that bothers you, then cut me off. Because it's not going to stop.

I can't let it go.

As dark as times are, I refuse to stop lighting up what I can.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all, including the Trumpeteers. I despise what you did and will never understand or forget it. But on a personal level, I wish nothing but the best for you and your family and friends. 

United States of America

1776 - 2025

A noble experiment has come to an end.

Someday, God willing, it will be returned to us.

But for now.

It is gone.

A Dream Deferred

 On Friday, November 1, I wrote a letter from the future, A Glimpse of Better Times, as written by my granddaughter. It showed an increasingly bright future, all stemming from Harris/Walz's victory.

Shockingly, that didn't happen. Americans chose the Orange Fascist instead.

I thought, maybe I need to rewrite that story, show all the horrible things that this despicable person and his Trumpeteers will do, and the damage that will reverberate for decades.

But then I thought, I can't write about that kind of nightmarish hellscape and put my Granddaughter in it.

I prefer to keep this sticker set and give it to her at the right time so she knows that it is not over but a dream deferred.

For her sake and the sake of all those I love, I have to pray that somehow we get out of this with a minimum of suffering and pain.

There is a lot to be pessimistic about. For those who think this was just a normal election with a normal election outcome - you truly do not know what you have done.

I despair. I find it difficult to be around anyone who willingly puts us in this mess. I fear about the effects not just to democracy but to the irreversible damage that will be done to our environment. I fear for the lives of Ukrainians and Palestinians. I fear for those who will be persecuted for their sexual identities and their open gender expression. I fear for those who continue to speak out and risk their well-being and freedom. I fear for the lack of women's reproductive health care. I fear for all civil workers, being led by absolute morons whose only intent is not to serve but to destroy and enrich themselves. 

I could go on and on. Yeah, a lot of bad stuff is going to go down.

But then, I look at my Granddaughter and know I can't surrender. I can't just give in to my grief.

It's hard right now.   Hard to be anything but angry and worried.   It's hard to be around those who sold this nation out.

But I promise you, my sweet, precious Retta, that I will fight these feelings and do whatever I can to make your future better.

It is not a dream ended.   It can't be.

It is a dream deferred.

What Went Wrong?

 

This is what we could have had. Love, family, and a team devoted to helping the American people.

This is what we got. Narcissistic billionaires, conspiracy theorists, sexual assaulters - all centered on benefitting themselves at your expense.

What went wrong?

Everything. Absolutely everything.

Yes, those who look at my recent posts will know I missed my election prediction by a mile. 

Truthfully, my prediction was not based on sophisticated poll analysis or other scientific data. Polls were unreliable and all over the map.

No, mine was based on gut instinct. I had faith in the decency of the American people and that they would give Vice President Harris the landslide she deserved.

I relied on the decency of our fellow citizens. I was wrong. I'm not the first person to get shot down because they overestimated the discernment and intelligence of Americans.

The bottom line is I couldn't fathom us choosing another Trump administration. I couldn't imagine enough people deliberately picking that kind of hate and destruction.

What went wrong?

There are as many theories as there are people as to why Harris did not emerge victorious. Most of them are bullcrap.

Should Biden have gotten out earlier? It wouldn't have helped. He'd be done as President, and he would not have been able to accomplish anything. The nominee that they picked would have either been Harris or somebody on the Corporate Democrat side of the spectrum.

Harris was too woke? HAHAHAHAHA! That's the silliest thing I've ever heard. Did you really listen to their campaign? We have guns! I'll shoot the burglar invading my home! We'll be tough on the immigrants! And not one word about the endangered trans community. They weren't even allowed to speak at the convention.

Harris should have gone further right? That would have been difficult. Any further right, and the Democrats might as well have picked Liz Cheney.

The economy was bad? Disregarding the power of Fox to make you believe what isn't true, the economy was about as good as it gets for at least the last fifty years. There were some problems (housing, college costs, healthcare), but anyone who thought that Republicans had any solutions were fooling themselves

Here's some that I consider to have at least some validity to them - 

1) Harris spent too much time courting the elusive disaffected Republican.

This has happened before. Much of Hilary Clinton's campaign overfocused on winning over Republicans who understood that Trump was a bad character.

It didn't work then. It didn't work now.

Granted, even I thought there was some validity to the strategy this time. Many (well, more than a handful) of Republicans stated their opposition to Trump, some prominent, some not so prominent. Surely, some of the more reasonable Republicans would choose country over party.

I knew this was a failure when I saw the Pierce County vote count. 89% voted for Trump, virtually the same percentage for every Trump election. No falloff whatsoever. No miracle conversions. Just the same percentage determined to plunge this country into a nightmarish hellscape.

2) Harris's policies were incremental rather than dramatic.

Harris overfocused on small incremental tax code changes rather than bold, transformative initiatives. This caused particular problems with the working poor and/or the noncollege educated.

I guess she thought she would lose support among moderate and right-leaning independents if she was too bold. Maybe she would have, but I don't know.

All I know is that, since 2000, Democratic campaigns have been littered with the corpses of those campaigns that refused to be bold. Gore, Kerry, and Clinton (and now Harris) all tried to trim their sails and all came up short (thanx and a hat's tip to the slave state inspired Electoral College).

We lost the working poor (mainly but not exclusively whites) when the Democratic Party did everything it could, in both 2016 and 2020, to shut down Bernie Sanders and then to ignore what appealed to his more diverse base.

The Democrats chose corporate policies over people policies. And they've been suffering ever since.

3) Too many refused to vote for a woman, especially a black woman,

This was a factor. It makes me sick to my stomach to live in a country so backward and so misogynistic that this may have been why some didn't vote for her.

And the most important -

4) I blame the American people.

Yeah. I said it. All of you who voted for Trump; those of you left it blank or voted third party - I blame you.

You know better. At least you should.

He was/is lawless.

She was/is flawless. Regardless of what was said above, she is of sterling character, ran the best campaign she could, picked the best Vice Presidential candidate I've ever seen, is the most qualified candidate of recent times, and is empathetic and caring.

And none of that mattered. None of it.

These next four years are going to be terrible.  

The best case scenario is that an adult/adults come back in 2026 and 2028 and can repair as much as possible.

The worst case scenario is that was the last election, and anything in the future will be a front and a sham, like they are in other authoritarian governments, like Hungary and Russia.  

What went wrong?

Everything. Absolutely everything.

And we're just beginning to find out what that means.

Our Darkest Day

 

This morning, in my alternating melancholy and rage, it is probably best that I don't say too much.  I am ready to burn bridges to the ground.  Not Christ-like, I know.  But there is nothing Christ-like that happened in this election.

There will be a temptation to understand and forgive those who did this, and the analysis will be endless.

I don't care about the analysis.  I don't care about considering forgiveness.  

What has been done is unforgivable.

What has been done will do horrible and irreversible damage.

And there is no way of getting around that.

There will be more later as I try to restore rationality to my temper.

But for now, I write the most terrifying words I have ever written - 

The Trumpocalypse Continues