LOST: High crimes and misdemeanors perpetrated by Donald J. Trump. Lengthy list on yellowing illegal pad was misplaced by a congressional aide to Rep. Adam Shiftless en route to meeting with FISA judge, somewhere between Capitol Hell and that trendy gentlemen’s club, G String-G Town, frequented by democratic lawmakers. (Not to be confused with the Red State Bra Strap and Bistro in Arlington, where many of said crimes were perpetrated.)
The fate of my pension, my legacy and maybe the nation rests on locating this historic document.
Easily identifiable, the list is scribbled in blue ink in Russian language. Trump himself allegedly dictated the list to KGB plant Melania Stalinski Trump as notes for the memoirs he plans to write from Rikers Island.
If found and returned to my office, I will provide you with two passes to the 2020 DNC, a ticket to President Ocasio Cortez’ 2032 State of the Collective Address and one free session with my favorite plastic surgeon (his cheek lifts are to die for).
No questions asked. Contact any Capitol Hell uniformed cop and say, “I got the goods on Donnie for Miss Nancy.” They will know what to do.
I used to think of Jon Stewart as one of the funniest misguided guys in the public arena. Now I think of him as an inspiration. A hero if you will.
Some celebrities use their status to build themselves up and tear others down. But Stewart doesn’t appear to be the self-serving type.
His recent Congressional testimony on behalf of 911 first responders ripped into our political system’s gridlock and quid pro quo practices as he eloquently but angrily demanded funds to assist thousands of cops, firefighters and medical personnel sickened by the smoke, fumes and particulates breathed in on that awful day 19 years ago.
It’s not usually easy to listen to anyone with whom you disagree 80 percent of the time. But when Jon Stewart was rocking the small screen on his Daily Show, I routinely peed myself when he hit me with harpoon after harpoon, dead center and to his point.
Mind you, Jonny was wrong most of the time. But who cares? He was sincere, informed, provocative, compelling, and ridiculously, undeniably funny.
Far left? Yes, but not blindly so. Errant liberals spent time squirming in the Daily Show crosshairs as well as conservatives.
Long story short, I hated to see Stewart leave the show. It was painful to watch Steven Colbert, a genuine talent (albeit a minor one compared Stewart) take the show’s great charm and transform it to petty nasty partisanship
Colbert now plays left-wing attack dog on late-night propaganda airways. And Stewart? Still a busy guy. Still a smart guy. Still a rare comic talent.
There was nothing funny about Jon Stewart’s appearance before Congress, however. If you haven’t seen his statement, please check it out. It’s a proud-to-be-an-American moment. But it’s also a reminder of ashamed-to-be-an-American episodes we too easily forget.
Agent Orange. Veterans Administration scandals. And now the glacial response to 911-related injuries and deaths.
I was surprised to see Joe Biden promise that his election as President of the USofA would mean an end to cancer.
Barack Obama and Donald Trump set high targets when they caused the oceans to subside, the economy to explode and unemployment to go poof. But at least they waited until elected to flash their glittery God cards.
Maybe at 76 Working Class Joe hears the clock ticking and the left-footed footsteps of two dozen uppity whippersnappers in Iowa and New Hampshire. But I have to wonder why he never saw fit to lay hands on cancer and proclaim “BEGONE!” while in the Senate for 100 years and the West Wing for eight.
“Don’t mind me, Honey, I’m just checking for toomers.”
Hey, Mr. Biden: Cure cancer now and you’ll have my vote. Until then, stick to politics and leave medical magic at Housing & Urban Development, where it belongs.
HUD Secretary Ben Carson will set housing history on its ear if he is successful separating conjoined townhouses into single-family rent-controlled homes with solar power, two-car garages and gene pools, using just a scalpel and his really big brain.
Know how quickly some folks pound their delete button and wipe Jesus right out of the December Holiday Shopping Season? Well, I practice twice a week on my insert button, so I can put Him right back into CHRISTmas.
CHRISTmas … CHRISTmas … CHRISTmas … Take that, Grinches and secularists! Get your own reasons for your own seasons, but December 25th? We Christians were there first, and we’re not going anywhere until He comes back.
You may ask why I’m pontificating on Christmas before the traditional launch of holiday ads right after Thanksgiving, no, Halloween, uh, Labor Day. My answer is found in late-night radio dude Whitley Strieber and from Hallmark’s prolific movie-making apparatus. Earlier today, two things upset my lazy Saturday. First was a Strieber quote I stumbled upon while perusing email. Second was a mention by the greeting card people that Christmas in July is just around the corner.
“Every Christmas now for years, I have found myself wondering about the point of the celebration. As the holiday has become more ecumenical and secular, it has lost much of the magic that I remember so fondly from childhood.”
— Whitley Strieber
My only mental image of Mr. Strieber is one I manufactured of him huddled on a couch with Mel Gibson and Joaquin Phoenix. In my daydream, he’s wearing a tinfoil hat and waiting for Signs of what extraterrestrial horrors director M. Night Shyamalan is about to unleash. That seems about right to me coming from Strieber. All I really know about him is that he frequently guests on all-night radio marathons celebrating all things weird. Whenever I’m on the road and in need of AM Radio stimulation at 2am, Whitley’s my go-to guy.
Hey, Whitley, news flash: CHRISTmas hasn’t lost any of its magic.
As more and more Holiday Stuff is piled on, year after year, that little old Baby, in a little old manger, in a little old Jewish town, gets shoved further back on the shelf we call December. Don’t buy any winter solstice or holiday season malarkey, Whitley. The birth of Jesus Christ is not a reason for billions of Christians to gather and give thanks for blessings too numerous to mention: It’s the reason.
Jolly Old St. Nicholas may or may not be the real deal, but Jesus Christ was, is, and will be. Folks can revise history all day and pretend that Gregory developed our calendar based on inspiration from a mythical Common Age rather than the historic Year of Our Lord. After Easter, the day we celebrate as Christmas is the most important on Christian calendars.
At the Hallmark Movie Channel, meanwhile, it seems that Christmas in July is second only to the real deal in December. We have absolutely no reason to believe that Jesus was actually born on December 25, but that means nothing in the grand scheme. What matters is that he actually was born. As Christians, He’s the center of our lives. Not a good man, not an influential prophet, but God incarnate.
For years, I had nothing good to say about Christmas in July. When I was a kid, holiday displays were broken out the day after Thanksgiving, and not a moment sooner. But after 28 years married to the saint who inexplicably puts up with me, I’ve thrown a flag of surrender. Bring it on, Hallmark.
Your scores of Christmas movies are all crafted from about five basic plots. Most feature one or two actors we know, or at least a cameo by a “name.” Most are a lot more about boy-meets-girl, girl-hates-boy, boy-grows-on-girl etc., than about Boy-Saves-Souls. But a few include church scenes, mentions of Jesus, and even singing of religious mainstays like Silent Night and Oh Holy Night. Christian films? Not by a long shot. But wholesome family fare, which is always welcome in our home.
Back to Whit Strieber: In a few weeks, Mr. S, set aside some time and watch a few Hallmark Christmas movies. They won’t give you religion and certainly won’t take the place of prayer and worship. But they do capture the magic of the season we remember from childhood. I think that’s pretty neat.
Christmas on Hallmark Network. — July or December — has only peripheral connection to a beloved holy day. But after years of humbugging, it dawned on me a while back that these harmless and mildly charming flicks put me in the mood for the real Christmas. They are an appetizer I can enjoy at home before an entre on my knees or in a pew.
We wish you a Merry CHRISTmas in July. And, by the way, my insert button can whip your delete key.
From Dr. Ben Carson’s ample reservoir of soft-spoken but hard-hitting American insights:
Dr. Ben Carson
“We’ve distorted things to the point where people believe that anyone who opposes mothers killing their babies is waging a war on women. How can we be so foolish to believe such a thing? One must be able to recognize the depravity to which we have sunken as a society when valuing a baby’s life is frowned upon.”
Legislators in New York are reported to be considering a ban on the common practice of declawing kittens.
Yup, we’re talking about the same erudite officials in Albany who gave themselves a standing ovation when they not only reaffirmed midterm abortion of unborn babies by dismemberment, but also approved of even more grisly abortions performed up to the moment of birth.
Off with their toes?
As cat lovers, we see a lot to like in a cat declawing ban. After all, while “declawing” may sound like a really good nail trimming, it is in reality elective amputation. Almost all cats come through the painful procedure ok, but there can be complications.
Declawing a cat is absolutely good for your furniture. You will have to decide whether having an important element of your kitty’s defenses removed is good for the cat…or have it decided for you by politicians.
An alternative point of view may sound familiar: Declawing is feline health care and should be left between cats and their veterinarians. In other words, humans should keep their grimy paws off of cats’ paws and get on with adding to the body count of 50 million since Roe v. Wade.