Friday, January 04, 2019

Pet Pictures

Back during the B.E. posting an occasional picture of your pet was essential.  "What's the B.E.?" I hear you ask.  It was "The Blog Era."

The B.E.is long gone, killed off by Social Media.  S.M. makes posting pictures of your pets much easier.  Actually, anything you could do on a blog is easier with S.M.  You just need to sell your soul by sharing your personal data.  And also spend time looking at ads.

Chowderhead the dog behind the gate

Today, in a 'glorious' homage to the B.E., I present more than a few pictures of our pets.  (Click them to see enlargements.)  We will begin with Chowderhead.

Chowderhead the dog on wet driveway

Chowderhead is our dog.  He's old for a big dog.  We got him in 2007 when we figured he was about one year old.  That makes him twelve now.  (Read a little about his origin story here.)

Chowderhead the dog and hexagonal tile floor

More gray hairs.  Moves more slowly.  Deterioration of hearing.  Sleeps a lot more.  Overweight.  Those things all describe me.  Also the dog.  Still, we're both doing pretty well for our ages.  We both have health insurance.

Chowderhead the dog on floor with rear leg extended

Chowderhead did have a recent medical issue, a hematoma in his left ear.  We took him to the vet  who said he had to wear the collar for a week.  At the end of the week he had totally reduced the collar to plastic shards.

Chowderhead the dog wearing his ruff, or collar

Chowderhead hates the vet.  He hates the vet so much he growls a lot and, when the doctors try to touch him, he vibrates with fear like a cellphone.  They make him wear a muzzle when he visits lest he bite.  Otherwise leatherwear is not really his thing.

Chowderhead the dog wearing a leather muzzle

His thing is sleeping in the backyard.  He is king of the backyard.

Chowderhead the dog sleeping on the grass

Most certainly Chowderhead's most remarkable appendage is his tail.  Here's a little video of 'The Tail' in action.





Mixed Meters' one remaining reader will remember that we also have three cats.  They rarely gather for a group photo unless food is involved.

Our three cats, clockwise from top: Doctor Pyewacket, Spackle Puss and Crackle Pop

The two gray and white cats are twins.  Spackle Puss is the smaller one; she has white stripes on the back of her ears.  Her brother, Crackle Pop, has a tabby stripe tail and a white spot on his back.  Like the dog, they're about twelve years old.  Here's their origin story.

2 cats on stairs: Spackle Puss (L) and Crackle Pop (R)




We'll start with pictures of Crackle.  There isn't much to say about Crackle.

Crackle Pop, the cat

Crackle isn't very friendly to strangers.  He hides when there are visitors.  Otherwise he's a great cat who likes getting petted and doesn't often make a mess.  He likes to climb on my lap but he can never get comfortable up there.

Crackle Pop, the cat, wants up on my lap

In the following picture you can see a cow poster hanging in my office.  It was given to me by a composer named John Adams.  It's the cover of his Gnarly Buttons album.  He autographed it for me, accidentally finishing the tail end of his signature on the wall itself.  Then the signature faded.  However the mark on the wall remains.  Later he returned and signed the poster again, twice, in indelible ink.

Crackle Pop, the cat, in front of John Adams' Gnarly Buttons album poster

While Donald Trump's dislike of dogs is well known, I've never read anything about his feeling towards felines.  You can search almost five million words he has spoken at this website.  I couldn't find a single reference to 'cat' or 'kitty' or 'feline'.  'Pussy' gets a few hits.

Crackle Pop, the cat, on the stairs





The second pussy on our list is named Spackle.  Spell check does not know the word Spackle; it underlines every occurrence as a possible misspelling.  There's much more to tell you about Spackle than about her brother.

Spackle Puss, the cat, on my desk

Spackle has an incredibly sharp tongue.  We know this because she likes to lick people's bare skin.  When she really gets into her licking it can be very painful for the human.  We don't know why she does this.

Spackle Puss, the cat, yawning

Another annoying thing is that she drools a lot.  After she sits on your lap you'll find a damp spot on your leg.  Yuch.

Spackle Puss, the cat, wishing she were outside hunting birds

Spackle is an extremely vocal cat.  While underfoot in the kitchen she repeats - in cat language -  "Give me some of that." over and over.  It's gotten to the point that she'll beg anytime a human walks into the kitchen.  This happens whether food is present or not.  Then she runs excitedly from one side of the room to the other.  And she runs back.  She does these little cat sprints over and over again.

Spackle Puss, the cat, looking cute on the back of a chair

When dinner time finally rolls around she eats voraciously.  And yet somehow she is still a super thin kitty, just skin and bones.  Her skinniness is actually worrying.  At least we've gotten her to stop vomiting her dinner in unexpected places.

Spackle Puss, the cat, on the stairs

Although Chowderhead and Crackle and Spackle are all approximately the same chronological age, they are different ages relative to their species.  I've seen charts which suggest that Chowder, compared to human lifespan, is in his 'late seventies'.  The gray cats, compared to humans, are, oh, about mid-sixties.  By coincidence, I'm in my mid-sixties as well.

Spackle Puss, the cat, on oval table

Pets don't have any idea how old they are.  I think I might enjoy not knowing how old I am.  Unfortunately we humans have calendars to keep track of these things.  For an excellent description of the invention of the calendar I suggest you listen to The Adventures of Greggery Peccary by Frank Zappa.

Spackle Puss, the cat, on the back of a chair




By any measure the youngest member of our household is Doctor Pyewacket, the black kitten which Leslie found in the bushes near our house.  Pyewacket will be four years old this spring.  This cat on the fence post is not Doctor Pyewacket.

A feral black cat on a fence

That fence cat is probably one of Pye's distant cousins, a member of the same feral clowder of cats to which we think Pyewacket traces his ancestry.  HERE is the real Doctor Pyewacket sitting on the floor.    (Yeah, I had to look up the word 'clowder'.)

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, on the floor

The good doctor recently had serious health issues in the form of blocked urinary tract.  He nearly died.  After multiple visits to the the kitty hospital his condition mysteriously improved just about the time the vet suggested surgically removing his penis.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, in a blue medical collar

Penectomies are never the preferred option for billions of male humans worldwide.  I, for one, wince just hearing the suggestion, even when it isn't me being considered as the patient.  The subject of penises has come up several times during Mixed Meters' varied history.  Read all about them here.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, with shaved legs

We presume that Pyewacket spent the first few weeks of his life out in the wilds of suburban Pasasdena.  Since then we've confined him indoors - safely away from predatory coyotes and unable to predate on cute little birdies.  Spackle and Crackle have never been outside a single day in their entire lives.  Or, for that matter, even for a few minutes.  (Yeah, predate is not really a real word.)

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, looking out window with lace curtains and outside bushes

Poor Doctor Pyewacket is pretty much at the bottom of the feline pecking order in our little cat trio.  Maybe it should be called "scratching order"?  In any case, old skinny Spackle can send young virile Pyewacket running off with one swipe of her paw.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, on a table looking up

Shooting pictures of Pyewacket is difficult.  All black cats are hard to photograph.  Or maybe not.  Maybe I'm just not a great photographer.  Maybe shooting pictures of black cats is really easy.  Or maybe I don't have good enough equipment.  Yes, that's it.  That must be the problem - I have been given inadequate tools.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, looking intently out a window

Blaming inadequate results on something or someone else is becoming common in the U.S. these days.  If good stuff happens, sure, that was us doing that.  We'll happily take credit for the good stuff.  When bad stuff hits the fan - find someone to blame.  In fact, maybe "Blame Them" should replace "e pluribus unum" as our national motto.  It's shorter and easier to remember.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, shown as a shadow behind a curtain

Recently a complete stranger came up to me and said she thought that I looked like Marlon Brando.  She asked whether I was told that often.  Looking at this picture of Doctor Pyewacket holding on to my shoulder for dear life, I think I look more like Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell.  Now there's someone who deserves a lot of blame for America's current impasses.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, looking terrified, on the shoulder of a Mitch McConnell impersonator

I will say that Mitch does have more hair than I do.  I wonder if he owns a cat.

Mitch McConnell, a turtle impersonator and majority leader of the US Senate, who is an even bigger threat to American Democracy than Donald Fucking Tr-mp.  A very dangerous and evil person

Friday, January 05, 2018

Jingle Bells Dementia Test

It's a tradition at Mixed Meters, part of our yearly war on Christmas (and on all the other solstice holidays as well).  Yes, it's a piece of music based on Jingle Bells.


Jingle Bells Dementia Test © 2017 David Ocker - 335 seconds

This season's offering takes inspiration from a test for senile cognition.  It's a real medical test.  Now that I've reached a "certain age" this test has been added to my yearly physical. 

You are given three unrelated words to remember followed by a distracting task - in the doctor's office that would be drawing the face of an analog clock at ten minutes after eleven.  Then you are asked to recite those three words from memory.  If you can remember them you are declared compos mentis for yet another year.  Hooray, I've got my marbles.

In the case of Jingle Bells Dementia Test, the distracting task is watching my video and listening to my music.  Much more difficult.  The words flash on and off very quickly.  Please pay close attention if you want to score well on this test.

The video is a long sequence of two-second clips, each one excerpted from the videos I have shot over (nearly) an entire year.  That's right, two seconds from every video - the good ones, the bad ones, the outright mistakes.  For me the result is kind of a year-end highlight reel.  You should be so lucky.

Luckily for all of us, I lost my previous camera returning from Hawaii in April (thanks United Airlines).  That was before I could download the pictures of the trip to my computer.  Otherwise there would have been lots and lots of two-second clips of lava and ocean waves.  Later I bought a new point'n'shoot to carry around in my pocket.  A better one.

To make this piece even more absurd, the short clips are presented in exact chronological order.  There was no shuffling things around to make a better presentation.

The last clip, the Crow's Aria, is the only exception to the 2 second rule, although it does adhere to the chronology rule.  I shot it in mid-December - it was too good a finale to add anything after it.  The crow is presented exactly as it was recorded, without video or audio manipulation of any kind (except for the fade out).

You might notice a particular non-Jingle-Bells-y musical leitmotiv associated with certain appearances of crows in Jingle Bells Dementia Test.  You're probably familiar with the magical minah bird from old Warner Brothers cartoons (I watched them on TV as a kid).   If so you will understand the reference.  If not, watch this 1943 cartoon short.  Be aware, however, that thinking on political correctness was very different back then.  More info about the Minah Bird here.


Finally, we end our broadcast with a story about another kind of political correctness - the farcical War on Christmas, as imagined by the fools at Fox Nudes
“Jingle Bells,” one of the most well-known Christmas carols in the world, is now being called racist.    A Boston University theater professor claims the Christmas carol has a “problematic history” because it was originally performed to make fun of African Americans.
If you want to read the original paper click here.  If you want to read about the right-wing backlash directed at the author click here.

In case you're wondering, Felix Mendelssohn (author of the minah bird/crow motive) never heard Jingle Bells.  He died ten years before Jingle Bells was composed.  One wonders if Felix ever witnessed a performer in blackface.

Thursday, December 28, 2017

Tossing My B,a,b,b,it,t Tubes

Something strange happened in our house last week.  It was this: I cleaned out a closet.  If you could see the inside of our closets you might think we were hoarders.  Maybe we are.

Anyway, in this one, now clean, closet (there are many others that need cleaning and plenty of drawers to boot), I found the tubes I often used to perform a solo clarinet piece entitled B,a,b,b,it,t by composer Donald Martino.  Written as a birthday present for his teacher, Milton Babbit, it is as much performance art as it is tuneless pointillistic atonality.

B,a,b,b,it,t requires "tubes" - also called "extensions" - which are to be periodically stuck into the end of the clarinet, extending the length of the instrument and thus creating pitches below the normal range.  Once the tube has served its purpose it is pulled out of the clarinet and unceremoniously dropped on the floor.   

I made my set of tubes from rolled-up cardboard and masking tape when I was a graduate student sometime between 1974 and 1976.  I had enough extra cardboard to make a carrying tube for them.

I gave up playing the clarinet in the nineties.  I stuck these B,a,b,b,it,t tubes, case and all, into the very closet where I found them last week.  Years had not been kind to them.  The masking tape had become dry and cracked.  Some of the tubes had been crushed.  The case was falling apart.  Briefly I wondered whether I could bequeath the set to some weird young clarinetist somewhere.  Don't be silly, I told myself.  Their uselessness was obvious.

I knew what I must do.  I had to throw them away.

But hold on . . . before I did that . . . I decided to take a picture of them.  This would soften the blow of tossing a sentimental useless artifact of my long gone personal musical history into the trash.  And I continued, (trying to soften the blow even more) I could write about this on Mixed Meters and post the picture and maybe thereby repurpose my damned old blog for which my interest has been waning.  Mixed Meters could become an archive of discarded relics of interest only to myself.  (This is not a completely new idea.)

Here's the picture of my tubes.


But hold on . . . maybe I could take it one step farther . . . why not add a recording of myself playing B,a,b,b,it,t?  It took me a while to locate and then a second while to digitize.  In this day and age you probably expect a video.  Alas, I gave up performing long before videos were just one click away.

Here's my audio version:

Listen to  Donald Martino, B,a,b,b,it,t for clarinet with extensions, performed by David Ocker, clarinet - June 29, 1980 at I.D.E.A. Studio, Santa Monica CA - 241 seconds

This performance was part of a solo clarinet recital, something I did a handful of times throughout my 20-year clarinet "career".  While I was at it I digitized the whole concert.  Not nearly so wince-inducing as I feared, although I was having my problems that night.   Here's another piece from the same concert:

Listen to  J.S. Bach, Chromatic Fantasy, arranged for solo clarinet by Gustave Langenus, performed by David Ocker, clarinet - June 29, 1980 at I.D.E.A. Studio, Santa Monica, CA - 369 seconds

But hold on . . . there was still more . . . my recital was reviewed by the Los Angeles Times.  Pretty damn amazing that the largest Southern California newspaper, back in the days when newspapers were actually important, would pay a music critic to visit a struggling second-floor dance studio above a Radio Shack to hear an unknown clarinetist play abstruse contemporary music without any accompaniment.  (Well, there was one piece where my friend Jimmy Hildebrandt played drums.)

And it was a good review overall.  So I modestly offer it, if you're curious.


Click on any picture to enlargen it.

But hold on . . . and this is the last time for holding on, I promise . . . there's an important personal issue to be dealt with here, one I'm having difficulty with.

What am I going to do with all this stuff?  Remember all those closets and drawers I mentioned?  There are a lot more memory laden items where those tubes came from.

There are my Mother's old family photo albums and piano music.  My 5-year old hand immortalized in chipped gold-painted plaster.  Tapes of my bar mitzvah, my high school band concerts, almost every one of my college recitals and a 24-hour environmental recording made outside my apartment just two blocks from the Hollywood freeway, starting at noon on December 31, 1979 (it was source material for a tape piece).   Pretty much every copy of every piece of music I've ever written and every recording ever made of them and every abstract drawing I've ever made and a sheaf of blackened manuscript paper with tens of thousands of random black scratches (from testing my ink pen before there were music notation programs).  There are boxes of old computer disks, programs plus useless data, together with the printed manuals along with the hard drives from every computer I've owned for over 20 years.  I'm guessing those drives have lots of important digital stuff I can't bear to part with on them as well.  There are old films (see below), videos, reel-to-reel tapes galore, and cassettes and CDs up the wazoo.  Old music programs, press releases, reviews (some of which only mention my name in passing) and printouts of downloaded articles I read once and thought I might want to return to.  Pretty much every book I've ever owned - many of which are still in boxes in the basement, unpacked since our last move 21 years ago.

I've hoarded all of this (and more) with the vague plan that I'd do something with it someday.  Most of it has memories - my memories.  I labor under the delusion that holding onto my memories is important.  I want to remember these things and I know my memory isn't what it used to be.  My brain, you know.

I'm ambivalent about spending a big chunk of my present life dealing with all these things.  It wasn't that great of a past - although it was okay, I guess.  I'm old enough now to know that I don't have forever yet to go.  In my best moods I still hope for two decades yet, but one never knows.  Cataloging all this crap is probably not a good use of my energies or my time.  If I can't bring myself to toss all of it, at least I can apologize to whomever will have do the tossing when I'm gone.

I saved it all for a reason - it was once meaningful to me.  I wouldn't have taken the picture of the tubes if they still had absolutely no value.  And, as long as there's an Internet, I'll be able to refresh my memory of them and of how hard they were to toss out.




Here's a short music video I did to an early home movie.  I was not quite 2 years old.





And here's the Times' review, in text instead of picture, so Google will find it the next time someone searches for Dark as a Dungeon by Christian Wolff.
Ocker in Solo Clarinet Recital
by John Henken 
July 1, 1980 
Los Angeles Times

A solo clarinet recital would seem to promise a surfeit of unadorned tootling.  But Sunday evening at the I.D.E.A. Studio in Santa Monica raconteur and clarinetist David Ocker carried it off nicely: a loose, intriguing program done with wit, spirit and abundant technical glitter.
Ocker opened vigorously with Stravinsky's Three Pieces (1919). Succinct, jazzy and with ample interpretive leeway, they represented a prevailing current.  Donald Martino's "A Set for Clarinet" (1954) is certainly in much the same mold, though more dependent on literal jazz formulations.  It was Ocker's interpretive stance, however, that provided the most common ground.  Both brash and beguiling, he played with marvelous fluency and expressive nuance.
It was the performance also that pulled through Robert Jacobs' "Inner Light" (1979), a piece with all the potential of "Bolero" for popular abuse.  With percussionist James Hildebrandt, Ocker kept the relentless rhythmic drive purposeful, the bluesy theme passionate but not unduly primitive.
After watching a man hold a black stick in h is mouth for a while, a air of surrealism can grip the watcher.  In "Several Unrelated Events" (1976) by John Steinmetz, this musical Dada effect becomes tangible.  Fortunately, Ocker is an actor with a nice sense of timing and "Events" emerged with humor and sparkle.
Martino's "B,A,B,B,IT,T" (1966), a musical birthday card for composer Milton Babbitt, exploits some improbable sounds produced by inserting paper tubes into the bell-less bore of the instrument.  Martin probably had more in mind, but Sunday, funny noises sufficed.
Also on the program was an arrangement of Bach's "Chromatic" Fantasy (stunning) and Fugue (ho-hum, with multiple Ockers on tape), and Christian Wolff's "Dark as a Dungeon" (1977), a mild exercise in pitch manipulation, particularly octave displacement.  Ocker served both well.
This extraordinary clarinetist also provided verbal annotation for the program.  "Mo's Vacation" (1978) by Frank Zappa made a nice story, but the piece proved to be routine atonal wandering, punctuated by Casbah riffs.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Tubas

Right now the world needs the occasional escape from politics.  What could be less political than . . . tubas?

Mixed Meters has given you tubas before.  Most prominently, way back in 2008, in the post Tubas on the Beach in Art and Advertising. which showed two actual print ads featuring scantily clad women sporting that most feminine of all instruments, the sousaphone (which is just a tuba bent differently).   About a year later we had the much more male oriented Tubas and the Federal Reserve.   Tubas can also be found in this post (scroll down).

Ever since then I've been collecting the occasional tuba photograph or cartoon just for today.  Click on any picture for an enlargement.  We begin with a series of tuba related comics by Gary Larson, creator of the Far Side.






No review of humorous tuba drawings should overlook Gerard Hoffnung.  Besides being a cartoonist, Hoffnung actually played the tuba.  The last panel shows a tubist walking his instrument on a leash across the opening measures of the solo part to the Vaughan Williams Tuba Concerto.  (Hands up all of you who actually knew there was a Vaughan Williams Tuba Concerto.)





Now the category called Women With Tubas, beginning with the most wholesome, a banner advertising our local music school.  Next, Mrs. Emma Peel (as played by Diana Rigg, both video and still) on The Avengers television series.  Then it gets kinky.






This cartoon, by Claude Serre, might be interest mainly to music copyists such as myself.  I guess that's the proper notation for "blatt" even in that altissimo register.


And finally - Tuba with Tentacles (a refrigerator magnet left over from a monthly hipster gathering at the Natural History Museum where Leslie works), Tuba as Ostrich and Wagner Tubas as Urinals.




A picture of a Wagner Tuba made into a lamp can be found a ways into this post.

Thanks to Mixed Meters' remaining reader, EricNP - who provided the video clip of Mrs. Peel, tubist.

Other MM posts with lots of pictures:
Half Grassed
Collected Selfies
Discarded Gloves
Tile Patterns
Camera Shake
Discarded Gloves
Facelike Part 1 - Part 2
Hidden Meanings
Branches Before Blue

Still here? Here's something political, about inequality, just so this post is not totally pointless.


And here's Johnathan Pie.  Outrage!

Thursday, August 31, 2017

Albert Marsh (1930-2017)

Leslie and I were very saddened to learn of the passing of our friend Albert Marsh.  We met Albert and his husband Johnnathan through an accident of real estate when they moved into the house next door.   That was nearly 25 years ago.  For a few years our lives met figuratively and literally over the back fence.  They became our adopted family, a relationship which has persisted in the years since we moved away from that street.


Albert grew up in a Texas border-town and, after college in the fifties, settled in New York City, then San Francisco and finally in Los Angeles which is where he met Johnnathan.  He worked as an architect and designer.  He was also an artist.  I really like his geometrical three-dimensional paintings - or maybe they should be called wall sculptures.  Later in life he became interested in shamanism, drumming and designing jewelry.  Some of his art and his necklaces can be seen in the pictures below.





Here's a caricature by the otherwise unidentified B.J. from Albert's time in San Francisco.  Then an apparently blissful moment I snapped over dinner one recent evening.



Here are two shots of Albert visiting our home.  In the first he is sitting with Leslie's Aunt Rose.  In the second he is investigating my new iPad, completely unaware that he is shooting selfie after selfie with his thumb.  Later I combined the shots into this animated gif.



A Halloween costume and striking a pose in his backyard.




Leslie and I send our profound condolences to Johnnathan Korver, Albert's husband.  Johnn wrote about Albert on Facebook and he kindly gave me permission to reproduce his thoughts here:
Dear Friends—It is with extreme heartbreak that I write this post today. My beloved husband, Albert Marsh passed away quietly and comfortably early yesterday morning. As I knew he was transitioning soon, I held his hand and played his favorite music with my IPad placed on his pillow. He was listening to some Sarah Vaughn, Ella Fitzgerald and Karen Carpenter.
Albert and I have been together since March of 1989. We had a commitment ceremony in June of 1994 and were married in Pasadena, Ca in March of 2014, two days before our 25th Anniversary. 
As many of you know I always referred to him as My Sweet Albert. Although we were 19 years apart, our two generations were perfectly matched as we learned so much about each others experiences, and opinions. He was a spiritual being with so much to teach me. One of the first things he taught me was to not define myself by tragic experiences and take responsibility for being the only one to be able to change my circumstances should I not like them. I’m certainly one to bitch and moan about the same thing too many times. He said to me quite clearly, “if this is a new story or problem, I’d be glad to listen and perhaps give some advice…if it’s something I’ve heard before, and you haven’t done anything about it, I’m not interested in hearing it”. That’s great advice.
Thank you all for the wonderful and kind emails, messages and phone calls. I’m truly touched by them and I know he would be too. So take care of one another, listen to one another, and work together to solve problems and issues that put you both on the same page. Write your life screenplay together and Star in the Film of your lives. You will be rewarded with The Academy Award of your life.
Oh and one other thing, put the hammer, nails and other tools away after you’re done using them…..Trust me on this one.  I love you all.

Once same-sex marriage became legal, Albert and Johnnathan held their marriage ceremony in our living room.   To commemorate the event and to thank us, they gave us this work by Albert.  Everyday the beautiful piece reminds us of him and of the happiness he and Johnn shared.  On the back it says:

"Twin Flames" collage by Albert Marsh, circa 1985
Reframed February 29, 2014
to David and Leslie
From Johnnathan and Albert
On the occasion of our wedding day
March 1, 2014



One more picture because of the big smiles - Albert and Leslie making a ring around the tree.


Monday, July 31, 2017

Mixed Meters Attempts Political Optimism

Progressives could use some good news. It’s pretty bleak out there right now for the far left.  Hard it is to write something even minimally positive.

The best news we might get in the near term - the next three years or so - is that some of the front and center political stories, the ones we can’t escape daily, the ones that scream headlines at us from every media pore, might somehow resolve themselves without turning into utter catastrophes. There’s an awful lot of assuming the worst at the moment.  Doom and gloom is par for the course.

Assuming the worst is not an unrealistic standpoint, it’s just depressing.   And, if we're lucky, maybe the bullets will only graze us, not score direct hits.  Trusting to luck may be the best we can do.


For example, maybe the Republican scrooges won’t be able to replace our bad but functional healthcare bill, the ACA (aka Obamacare).  They got within one vote of pushing exactly that agenda last week.  They failed.  That's lucky.  (Don't be fooled.  They'll be back.)

Politicians are well known for promising things they can’t deliver, but in the case of health care the Republicans have set a whole new standard.  They've promised repeal and replace so many times that even they felt the need to give the impression of having told the truth, to make good on their promise any which way, by hook or by crook.  Their parliamentary antics would be pretty funny to watch, like in a movie, if real-world consequences weren’t so serious.

Try to think of Congress as a Keystone Cops movie.  Just remember, they're trying to do bad things and, as a country, we're better off when they screw up at their jobs.


Another example — it might be that the Russia/Trump campaign story won't amount to anything.   And maybe the United States won’t be racked by another impeachment.  Once the dust settles it’s possible that there’ll be no smoking gun.  This might teach us to go into future elections on high alert to any outside influence, maybe even with a tiny bit of contrition over past U.S. attempts to influence elections in other countries.  (Who am I kidding?  Contrition?)

And we can hope that Russiagate, when it’s finally unwound to the very end, might teach all Americans that someone who brings only his shady business ethics to the office of President is not qualified for that job.  And maybe he'll bumble through his entire term without being removed from office, without giving the other Republicans a do over.

Here's another one - maybe our environment is not completely doomed.  Yes, Trump’s minions are toiling unnoticed underground at the EPA and the Energy Department to unlock extra huge profits for environment-plundering mega-corporations.  Meanwhile, maybe America’s free market system, so touted by Koch-brother-funded think tanks, will allow state governments and enlightened businesses and concerned individuals to protect bits of the environment on their own as best they can.

Like the famous Hebrew National hot dog commercial, Americans can start answering to an authority higher than the government, in this case Mother Earth herself, except the issue is how to dispose of our shit rather than silly rules about what we eat to produce it in the first place.


One thing's for sure, whatever happens on any of these stories (and there are many more equally important topics each with similarly small bits of hidden optimism which can only be revealed by double talk and self delusion), our brazen liar president will find a way to declare himself victorious on all of them.  He’s our own Indiana Jones-ish political anti-hero: he cuts a dashing figure, spins every story to look like a winner, gets help on the hard stuff from shady stunt men and then takes all the credit and all the close-ups.

We left-wingers can only watch as the political right and the radical political right duke it out for control of the ruling Republican party with one hand while attempting to run the country at the same time with the other.  So far mostly they've ended up slugging themselves in the face.  This has resulted in lots of failure - so much failure you're probably getting tired of failure, to paraphrase I forget who.  That failure is pure manure for left-wing optimism.

So - with dumb luck and with the help of Trump-family administration incompetence plus Republican congressional disfunction and then with even more even dumber luck, we as a nation might muddle through.  There'll be one hell of a lot of crap to clean up afterwards.  Piles and piles of it.  The many self-inflicted bruises will take a long time to heal.  And if something big happens on Donald's watch - a North Korean bomb or a stock market crash or a terrorist attack or merely a generic, garden variety national crisis - all optimism will be summarily cancelled.

There you have it.  That's my "positive" message.  Aren't you glad I'm trying to think on the bright side?




Meanwhile - here's the scariest article I read this month: Meet the Group of Right-Wing Christians Who Believe President Trump Was Chosen by God

Here's a quote:
Seven Mountains’ strategic goal is for Christians to seize control of all aspects of civil and political society by whatever means necessary. This includes the media, arts, education, government, religion, business, and family. Once these believers secure all of these “seven mountains,” Christ will return. And for POTUS Shield, Donald Trump is the guy to do it.