Thursday, December 31, 2015

In the Air, There’s a Feeling...

Christmas in the City 2

“I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year” - Charles Dickens

Buon Anno, Feliz Ano Nuevo, Gluchliches Neues Jahr, Bonne Annee and Happy New Year to all,  as we observe that most arbitrary of events, New Year’s Eve - celebrating and commemorating the irrelevant and insignificant turning of a calendar page, one of 365 - bringing with it the imagined promise of a new year, neglected then discarded resolutions, and the culmination of the two-decade long, Clinton coronation.

For those still hiding and fearful in the safety survival shelters constructed for the sure arrival of apocalypse and unmitigated disaster at the recent turn of the century – all's clear. You’ve missed much – Netflix, the rise of the Kardashians, the fall of Bill Cosby, the first African-American President, and in racist reaction, the ascendance of a bigoted, ignorant, fascist as Republican Presidential front runner – given further consideration, perhaps it’s best to linger even longer within those protective walls. Enjoy your Spam and powdered milk and like a groundhog with agoraphobia, never emerge again.

As for yours truly, the party-pooping, clearly miserable sot that I am, my yearning for the yule endures unabated for, once again, the oft-elusive Christmas spirit continues unfelt and unrealized, but hopeful exultation of Christmas 2015 remains. Yes, even at this turn of a new year, I stay anxiously awaiting the arrival of the essence of Edmund Gwenn (or Sebastian Cabot or Richard Attenborough, should you prefer one of the unnecessary remakes) and the heralded, holiday sentiment of Herald Square. It may be a too late and ultimately lost cause, but still I persevere, enjoying the choral sounds of the Mormons in their Tabernacle, the youthful pop/rock of Darlene Love and Ronnie Spector, and the tuneful dreams of Bing’s White Christmas in an era when climate change has rendered my city, New York, a tropical winter getaway.

With this seasonal struggle in mind, I leave you with a rewrite of a Christmas classic, from Mame, Jerry Herman’s “We Need a Little Christmas.” No need to alert Mr. Herman, he seems like such a nice man, why break his heart, especially around the holidays?

I Need a Lot of Christmas

Malls decked out jolly
Though, every other store is shutting down again.
Work’s melancholy,
The Christmas party’s cancelled, faces frown again, now.

So, I need a lot of Christmas
It hasn’t come real near me,
Perhaps a mug of gluwein,
Can anyone here, hear me?

Cause, I need a lot of Christmas
Apparently it fears me.
No drummer boy’s been drumming,
If I’m lucky coal is coming.

I’ve spruced up the spruce tree,
Hung my cat’s stocking on the mantle ledge again.
He felled that spruce tree,
Now both our nerves are set right on the edge again now.

So, I need some kind assistance,
My spirit’s been persistent
It’s Scrooge-like in resistance
At least I’ve been consistent.
And, has anyone a tissue?
The angel on my shoulder,
Has a bladder issue, now.

Thanks for the Dunkin gift card
The book by Sarah Palin,
In wrapping I used last year
    Just what were you inhalin’? 

At least we’ve got the New Year
Here to disappoint us
We need a lot of Christmas now.

And now, enjoy Johnny Mathis’ proper performance of the yuletide standard.

Any comments, questions, criticisms, candid confessions, cash contributions? Contact me at butchersaprons@mail.com.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

And Above All the Bustle, You’ll Hear…

Christmas in the City

“… the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts” – Charles Dickens

Festive friends, partying pals, and caroling compadres, it’s time again for the traditional “… and several butcher’s aprons” yearly Christmas spectacular, a yuletide institution for well over 365 and a quarter days (props to you, Leap Year babies.)  And, much like the arrival of my Christmas cards, Bristol Palin, or Hillary at a debate after a bathroom break, this posting is late.  Johnny Grant, Santa, Andy, Bing and Perry have all packed it in for the season, while nycityman is still just searching for last year’s leftover wrapping paper.

As of late, being a critical chronicler of our culture and of our times, this blog may have been a little heavy on the negativity and gloom and doom. Of course, when one’s television becomes a 24/7 Donald Trump propaganda reality show, with hate-filled political gatherings reminiscent of the 1934 Nuremberg Rally, it is easy to be alarmed, angry and apprehensive; and also easy to argue that those are indeed the proper and rational reactions of any decent creature who has mastered the skill of walking upright and the manipulation of opposable thumbs.  But, even those post-Nuremberg warring factions would take a brief breather on December 25th for a little reminder of the humanity and brotherhood that hopefully exists somewhere within all of us.  And, who would I be to behave less civilized than an active member of the Third Reich? So, for the present, let’s push all political peevishness and partisanship aside and bask in the glow of gluwein, tannenbaums, holly and ivy, and reruns of scantily clad Mitzi Gaynor Christmas specials (for clarification, that would be Mitzi scantily clad, not the specials themselves.)

Readers, to whom I am indescribably grateful, (even my over-used and abused thesaurus tool was of no assistance), as my Christmas present,  I spare you the usual verbosity and instead share a soupcon of seasonal snapshots - a few, an invitation to join me in celebration of the beloved and quaint little Christmas village I call home, New York City; and others, playfully presenting a slightly dark view of holiday symbols.  I also share my thanks and my sincere wishes for a healthy and harmonious holiday and, in return, happily accept any form of seasonal greeting you might wish to impart - be it Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah,  Cordial Kwaanza or even the cursed, devilishly non-committal  and generic, Happy Holidays. I may be stupid, but I’m not that stupid.

Any comments, questions, criticisms, candid confessions, cash contributions?  Contact me at butchersaprons@mail.com.

Monday, December 7, 2015

Undone – a Poem of Political Savagery

“Narcisissma, Narcisissma has no pride or delusions,
Delusions, delusions make me turn my face
But Narcisissma let's me find my place.” – Don McLean

The Republican race to occupy the oval office has descended into sheer racist and xenophobia fueled madness and insanity; the ringmaster of this cynical circus, this dangerous and purposely treacherous recklessness and irrationality, is, of course, that egotistical creator of his own mythology and legend, a man who never saw a selfie he didn’t like,  resident of the gaudiest, tackiest and biggest bordello on the celebrated isle of Manhattan, Donald J. Trump.

As this serial draft-dodger, maven of Chapter 11, minimally successful businessman  finds further fame in winning the minds and hearts of the mindless and heartless - the ignorant, illiterate and intolerant who now dominate the base of the GOP - with his patented brand of self-serving, narcissistic, hate and lie-based ideology, we find our nation (almost half of it, anyway) willingly succumbing to the lure of fascism as a simplistic cure-all for the complex problems that they can neither identify nor understand.  But, in lieu of education, intellectual curiosity or genuine knowledge of history or facts (after all, reading is hard!) these anti-American, unpatriotic and illiberal lemmings  embrace the falsehoods, act upon their animosity (while not truly grasping why) and revile those of different backgrounds, beliefs and skin tones, exactly as they are directed to.

In a field that has counted among its members Pat Buchanan, George Wallace and KKK Grand Wizard, David Duke, Donald Trump is (hmm, now how can I express this with some subtlety and nuance?) the scummiest, worst piece of human garbage and waste of life that has ever pursued the coveted title of Commander in Chief. But, while Trump is definitively the most nauseating and repulsive candidate among the 744 on the GOP side of the ledger, we suffer from the fact that he so leads in the polling, and is so admired and envied by the rest, that many have hopped on the Trump hayride of hate with hopes of riding his coattails to a vile and vitriolic victory. 

And so, to the comb-over king and his fawning, covetous wannabes and minions, some verse in your dubious dishonor.


The guilty hide behind sick jokes
That place the blame on purer folks
And clear their consciences from yokes
Of duty.

The gilded man, false locks askew
In the looking glass crows, "I love you"
Lacking self-awareness and virtue
Or beauty

His cobwebbed Bible shares a sign
In passages just underlined
Of further trouble for those maligned
And hurting

The middle swallowed by the fringe
A once great land becomes unhinged
The Betsy Ross flies battle-singed

So, this race is lost before its run
No matter who’s the winning one
The savagery has just begun
As we genuflect before the gun
In a civilization come undone.

“Narcisissma, Narcisissma loves to thrill and delight me,
Delight me, delight me and I'll never quit
'Cause Narcisissma knows just where I fit.”

Any comments, questions, criticisms, candid confessions, cash contributions?  Contact me at butchersaprons@mail.com.

Monday, November 30, 2015

The Meaning of “American” – Don’t Let the Republicans Ruin the Dream

What is America to Me?

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" – Emma Lazarus

When we turn away refugees escaping persecution, we cease being the United States of America. When we institute a religious test for those who are allowed into our country, we cease being the United States of America. When those in power, or seeking such, suggest warrantless searches, identification badges and unlawful surveillance of U.S. citizens who follow a specific faith - procedures and practices much more characteristic of the Third Reich than our “shining city upon a hill,” we cease being the United States of America. When we follow Republican ideology of fear and loathing toward those of different backgrounds and different beliefs, we surrender our freedoms, our values and our traditions, and we cease being the United States of America.

I'm not giving in an inch to fear
'Cause I've promised myself this year
I feel like I owe it to someone - David Crosby

I will not let my life, my actions and my principles be determined, or in any way altered or influenced, by the intolerance, purposeful  ignorance and flourishing hatred that spews continuously and contemptuously from the voices and malicious minds of the GOP, the Conservative base and the Tea Party, breeding ground of domestic terrorism.  I will not live in fear.

I am an American, a proud American, the grandchild of immigrants – those very immigrants who populated, built and enriched America, and the very immigrants whom the Right would now seek to prohibit from alighting upon our once beckoning, welcoming and teeming shores.  I am a patriotic American, a compassionate, tolerant, humane, empathic American, a Constitutional American; therefore, by very definition, never a Republican; the newly malevolent, self-serving political party, with an ideology awash in ill-intentions, that has devolved into, and heartily embraced, the cliché of “the enemy within.” 

These are the innocent children who strike dread in Republican souls across our 50 states

For our health as a nation and a people, for a strong and meaningful and purposeful existence, and perhaps even for our very survival and future, can we hold in our hearts more the sentiments of Emma Lazarus rather than the vile views, odious opinions and dangerous demagoguery of the Trumps, Fiorinas or Cruz’s; those who care not for the well-being of this great land or its residents, and who have proven more than willing to damage and destroy in search of personal gain and glory? 

Can we try not to fear and hate these innocent and endangered Syrian children seeking desperate refuge from violence and terrorism, so vindictively vilified by the Right Wing, for whatever reasons small-minded people do so, and instead, display some compassion, some humanity, some basic decency and dare I say, for those who believe so but act otherwise, some Christian charity?

That’s what an American is. That’s how an American behaves. That’s what America means. And sadly, somewhere along the way, the Republican establishment has ceased believing in the United States of America.

More of the evil ISIS terrorists with whom Obama plans to plague our country

“The house I live in
A plot of earth, the street
The grocer and the butcher
Or the people that I meet,
The children in the playground
The faces that I see,
All races and religions
That’s America to me.” – Abel Meeropol  

Any comments, questions, criticisms, candid confessions, cash contributions?  Contact me at butchersaprons@mail.com.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Death of a Nation – The Gun and the Ignorance that Embraces it

My soul seethes with anger. And I wish to lash out at Americans who embrace our dangerous and idiotic gun culture. Those who see bloodshed, a society awash in domestic horror and daily death by the bullet, and not only refuse to quash it, but believe the answer to a nation terrorized by the rifle, pistol and assault weapon is to ensure that even more people are armed to the teeth – mental state or criminal record be damned. They deserve neither my respect, nor my regard, but rather my disdain. Such willful ignorance and acceptance and endorsement of gun violence is grievous folly and hazardous futility, and those who hold such unenlightened and perilous philosophies should be ostracized by any civilized culture and be exposed for the treacherous fools that they are.

Another day, another two school shootings, such is life in the United States of the NRA. This country suffers from a fatal illness, its addiction to guns combined with a fear and loathing of everything - a destructive and detrimental attitude exhorted by the corporate courtesans that are the Republican members of Congress, through orders of their pimp bosses of big business who line their pockets and control every word, deed and vote of these D.C. whores.

This blog has always been satirical in nature, with a goal to uncover the humor in the political and social situations in which we find ourselves. Today, you will discover no joviality in this installment for there is very little in the actions and activities of the citizens of this modern day Dogpatch; which at one time was looked upon as a beacon to, and the greatest hope of, a world often in strife.  But that was a different America, an America as envisioned and set in place by our founders - worldly, curious, intelligent, forward thinking, well-read, intellectual men who, while holding almost a god-like place in the hearts of Americans, would in reality be castigated, ridiculed and hated by many of the current generation who truly have no grasp of our history, nor a clue of what an American really is.

As a nation, we have evolved from a republic to our current identity as an idiocracy, and are well on the road to a combination of theocracy and plutocracy.  Although, of course, the plutocrats have little interest or belief in things religious or spiritual, they merely use the sacred as a weapon against the devout to win over their trust and their vote, no matter how contradictory to their self-interest.

Welcome to the United States of America, land of the violent ignoramus, where education is considered unnecessary, snobby and elitist. Where Right Wing lies told in repetition are accepted as truths and actual truths are negated, rejected and condemned as Liberal propaganda.  Once a forward thinking and progressive country, now turned backward land where long agreed upon scientific facts are at first questioned and then rebuffed in favor of millennia old superstition conceived by an ancient peoples lacking in scholarship, and with an agenda to control behaviors through an invented system of morality and a vicious and vengeful god. Where history is ignominiously ignored, if not entirely rewritten, and we learn nothing from the dumb and dangerous mistakes of the past, but to repeat them, time and again; and where violence is regarded as the proper response to every situation.

I no longer have any patience for people who oppose the very reasonable gun regulations of universal background checks to close the internet and gun show loopholes, and the banning of automatic assault weapons, a favorite cause of their GOP deity, Ronald Wilson Reagan.  After the obscene series of mass shootings that continually bombard the U.S. on a regular basis, if you oppose these procedures, you are contemptable; at best, an accessory to these heinous and frequent crimes, at worst, as guilty as those who pull the triggers.

Perhaps it may not appear so, but I love this country. I love this country as it should be, as it was intended to be, as Jefferson and Adams and Madison designed it to be. What I abhor is this bastardization that these, not particularly, United States are becoming; maintaining a specific repugnance for the mean-spirited and selfish in positions of power who twist our founder’s intents for their own ugly benefit;  and the increasingly pathetically and proudly stupid citizenry who align themselves with this villainy and happily allow it to happen.  But there is hope. I still hold out hope. As long as there is a Declaration of Independence, a Constitution and a Bill of Rights, there is hope that this floundering, and in many ways failing, ship of state can be righted once again. There is hope. But until we the people educate ourselves to truths, facts, history and reality, rather than accepting the vile prevarications and propaganda of those who wish to control us, that hope seems utterly and excruciatingly unattainable.

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Bellevue or the White House – Ben Carson M.D. (Me Doctor) - Reprise

“It's my life and I'll do what I want
It's my mind and I'll think like I want
Show me I'm wrong, hurt me sometime
But someday I'll treat you real fine.”
- The Animals

Now that Dr. Carson, mad genius, is challenging Donald Trump, irate imbecile, for the questionable honor of which unsuitable and unsagacious Teapublican will be making the late election night concession call to President Clinton deux, it appears an opportune time to re-post this essay from much earlier in the year. Please read, enjoy and perhaps even share, for as the good doctor/bad politician gains in popularity, it's extremely important that the, too often, uninformed electorate learn a fearful fact or two about the GOP's up and coming flavor of the month.

From January 2015 (with an update or two) -

It’s freshly 2015, bonne année mes amis, and in the Machiavellian, machination-filled mud pit that is U.S. politics that means it’s 2016 part one:  Rise of the Machines. Let the clash of dumbed-down dogma and inflexible ideology commence.  To the victors go the spoils, and to those select billionaires who wager on the proper ponies shall go the fulfillment of their needs and the caretaking of their concerns.  Should those one-percenter desires on occasion accord with those wishes of us wee folk, financially speaking, mores the better.

And to kick off the run-up to the 2016 campaign, submitted for your approval, a fresh feature -  it’s time for America’s favorite new game show, “Bellevue or the White House” (frenzied and only slightly intoxicated studio audience enthusiastically and energetically restates the title in shouts of joy and exultation) where you, the home viewer, get to determine whether potential Republican presidential candidates more appropriately deserve a warm bed in famed Bellevue Hospital’s psychiatric unit, or a comfy chair in the Oval Office.
Canadian comedy icon, David Steinberg, and the original "Me Doctor"
This week’s target, rather, contestant, is a favorite of pre-school graduate and recent brain donor Sarah Palin, the Saudi-run Fox Fake News Channel and the late Charles Guiteau; and along with Allen West he’s one of the only two African-Americans out of the 44.5 million in our country that give Teapublicans an opportunity to pronounce “see, we love the Negros, and that Jackie Robinson was a heck of a ballplayer!”  He’s Dr. Ben Carson, a brilliant and pioneering neurosurgeon whose politics are only slightly right of Jefferson Davis and whose possible personality disorder only a tad less alarming than Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme’s.

"They like us, they really like us! Don't they?"
Before beginning our contest, a little background information about today’s participant, and truth be told, Dr. Carson has quite the impressive resume. With a bachelor’s degree from Yale and an M.D. from the University of Michigan, Carson was a professor of neurosurgery, oncology and plastic surgery at prestigious Johns Hopkins University Hospital; as well as its director of pediatric neurosurgery. He was the first neurosurgeon to successfully separate conjoined twins joined at the head, and a 2008 recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom.  Yet, Dr. Carson unfortunately stated and believes the quotes that are soon to follow, providing tragic proof that one can be intelligent, well-educated, accomplished and still a few scalpels shy of a full surgical kit.

These are his words.  We give you the facts, and you make the determination – democracy at its finest.

One Doctor’s Prescription for Disaster – Carson in his own words

His admiration for ISIS and his comparison of them to our Founding Fathers –
“A bunch of rag-tag militiamen defeated the most powerful and professional military force on the planet. Why? Because they believed in what they were doing. They were willing to die for what they believed in. Fast forward to today. What do we have? You’ve got ISIS.”

Mass Shootings - 
"I would not just stand there and let him shoot me."

Second Amendment -
"I never saw a body with bullet holes that was more devastating than taking the right to arm ourselves away."

Religious Freedom -
"I would not advocate that we put a Muslim in charge of this nation, I absolutely would not agree with that."

Marriage equality –
“Marriage is between a man and a woman. No group, be they gays, be they NAMBLA, be they people who believe in bestiality.”

Marijuana legislation –
“… politicians like President Obama and Eric Holder are surreptitiously encouraging marijuana use in order to create a dumb citizenry. That way, doped-up Americans will be distracted by controversies like the name of the Washington Redskins instead of focusing on stories about Benghazi and Fast and Furious.” 

Modern science and Creationism – “I don’t believe in evolution”

Health care reform –
“…the worst thing that has happened in this nation since slavery.” 

The police shooting of Michael Brown –
“I think a lot of it really got started in the ’60s with the ‘me generation.’ ‘What’s in it for me?’ I hate to say it, but a lot of it had to do with the women’s lib movement.

??? –
“You know, we live in a Gestapo age”
"I mean, [our society is] very much like Nazi Germany.”

Ah, the classic, and should be verboten, Nazi and Slavery comparisons, those pathetic, heinous and desperate tactics  so frequently employed by the fringe Right Wing in lieu of genuine thought, ideas or sanity.

“I stand by those (remarks); I don’t think there’s anything crazy at all.” – Dr. Ben Carson

Only you can prevent this man from becoming our next President. It’s your life; you can do what you want.  And with that forced last thought as a tenuous connection,  and therefore the weakest segue to a song in the history of the concept of synergy,  an nycityman favorite,  rapidly-aging rapscallion that I be,  Eric Burdon and the Animals perform, “It’s My Life.”

Any comments, questions, criticisms, candid confessions, cash contributions?  Contact me at butchersaprons@mail.com.

Friday, September 11, 2015

September 11, 2001 – A Divided Nation, Once United

“America is a tune. It must be sung together.” – Gerard Stanley Lee

Since the inception of this usually comedic blog (such is the objective, anyway) in 2010, I’ve always considered it of utmost importance that at least once a year it take a serious, somber tone in commemoration of the sad and tragic events of September 11th, now 14 years ago.

We remember with reverence the innocent lives that were lost, and honor with admiration the valiant responders who bravely, steadfastly and at no small individual risk followed a personal call of duty to country, to justice and to humanity. These were Sly Stone’s “everyday people,” many of whom traveled to New York from locales all around our great country, proving ordinary people can oftentimes be the most extraordinary. Sorrowfully, far too substantial a number of them have suffered for their courageous actions, overtaken by myriad maladies facilitated by the unsafe and unhealthy conditions at the rescue site.  I had the opportunity to meet a few of these true Americans and could but humbly express my appreciation for the much needed spirit and assistance that they brought to my shaken, shocked, heartbroken, mourning, yet determined and resolute city.

Should you have ever come upon this blog before, by happenstance or, hopefully, by intent, it very likely didn’t require much deep reading or circumspection to determine the entrenched New York City origins of the author.  It is here where I was born and bred, and where I fully expect to take my final breaths (perhaps with the aromas of Sunday’s macaroni gravy and gravy meat wafting into my nostrils) and I have stated incessantly (possibly to the point of annoyance) since 9/11, that there is no human being on this earth that I hold more affection, loyalty and veneration for than the New Yorker. At the worst point in our history, this vastly diverse population became one - in sorrow, in support, in understated understanding – a city of 8 million, turned close-knit neighborhood.

After this passage of time, and the yearly recollections, I wonder what’s left to articulate. A sincere wish is that September 11th never be designated a national holiday, for inevitably what will shortly follow is the white sale, mattress extravaganza and late summer backyard barbeque.

We all thought, and we were all told, that our country was forever changed on that day. For many families, those with friends and relatives victimized by the heinous attacks, that was indeed the case.  However, by clear and unpleasant evidence of the manner in which this early period of the 2016 presidential campaign is manifesting itself – the ugliness, the bitterness, the lies, the backbiting, the partisanship, the institutionalized hatred – questions of doubt arise, has anything truly lastingly changed in present day America? Have we learned any permanent lessons from this unspeakable experience as a country and its people?

For a brief, dark, desperate moment we were one nation, indivisible. Now, we are a collection of belligerent, bickering combatants, with a growing animosity and revulsion towards each other, choosing to concentrate on that which makes us dissimilar rather than those commonalities which unite us.

This blog will forever reflect on September 11th in tribute, solemnly remembering the thousands who perished – on a field in Pennsylvania, at the Pentagon in Washington D.C. and in a pair of skyscrapers just a few miles south of my home; those heroes who came to the aid of a despairing and grieving city, my city, the greatest city in the world, with an unending and unyielding appreciation, and without classification by sexual orientation, ethnicity, religious affiliation or political beliefs; and a country that momentarily realized the strength and beauty inherent in unity and accord.  We can only urgently and sincerely hope that it won’t require some such similarly violent and vile occurrence for us once again to be Americans.

“We come on the ship they call the Mayflower
We come on the ship that sailed the moon.
We come in the age’s most uncertain hour
And sing an American tune” – Paul Simon

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Muddy Reflections on a Dope: Donald Trump and the Fall of the American Empire

“I’m empty and aching and I don’t know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They’ve all come to look for America” – Paul Simon

“He must be from Krypton.” – Chris Matthews

"You know, it doesn't really matter what [the media] writes as long as you've got a young and beautiful piece of ass."  – Donald Trump

I tackle this onerous topic with some trepidation. What Trump desires more than anything else in the world is attention and promotion, continued and constant celebrity.  Whether that camera and microphone time results in positive or negative notoriety is irrelevant, the search for the ceaseless spotlight is the sole objective; a pathological need fitting his spot-on profile as a sociopath, which Trump irrefutably is.

And surely, he suffers not for lack of exposure, frequently featured as the singular subject of uncritical conversation on Chris Matthews’ “Hardball," viewers nightly suffer through Matthews' unrequited affection and adoration for the Donald as seen through the twinkle in Chris’s eyes and the girlish giggle on his lips, whenever covering his newest heartthrob. Donald is to Chris as Davy Jones is to Marcia Brady (cue the animated hearts around his head.) And Trump is almost as often propagandized on the entirety of the MSNBC 24 hour schedule (by design of new management, gradually morphing into a Fox News clone) with the possible exception of “Lock Up.” However, should the SEC ever conduct a proper and thorough investigation of Trump’s business dealings, that programming possibility could arise, as well.  

"When Mexico sends its people … they are bringing drugs and they are bringing crime and their rapists." – Donald Trump

I hesitantly join this non-stop Trump publicity machine for although he has indeed been exposed more than a Jenner/Kardashian posterior, Trump’s own posterior has been habitually bussed but seldom disparaged. The, too often, under-served voter needs to see not just the tactless, boorish, yet entertaining carnival barker, but also the genuinely egomaniacal, megalomaniacal,  monstrous and potentially dangerous demagogue that lurks  beneath the unparalled and colossal comical comb-over.

This pathetic, self-serving, circus act of a man in Chinese manufactured, self-labeled polyester, who speaks and acts only in service to his own glory, a man who never met a mirror he didn’t like, who considers the biblical passage “you shall have no other gods before me,” a reference to himself, has been an incessant, international embarrassment to our country, our democracy and our electoral system.

"You make me feel brand new. 'Cause God blessed me with you."

Trump had Jorge Ramos, a highly-respected, Latino-American journalist man-handled by his security and physically removed from a press conference, and not a single other reporter spoke up or departed in a show of solidarity or protestation. “White Power” has rung out at his rallies, and the most prominent neo-Nazi and White Supremacist groups are endorsing his campaign and Presidential aspirations, for as so many of his supporters spout, “he is one of us.”

“I have black guys counting my money. … I hate it. The only guys I want counting my money are short guys that wear yarmulkes all day.” – Donald Trump

“I don’t have a racist bone in my body.” – Donald Trump

In this ugly age of Trump, there are few answers, but myriad, shameless questions. If he is correct about the current character of the American citizenry, if the vociferous voices of those who back and boost his unbearable beliefs are an accurate indication of where we now are as a nation and of how far we’ve morally fallen as a people, the vision and dream of our founders is truly doomed. Could it possibly be that admiration and respect for such worthy leaders as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King has been superseded by a veneration for the likes of Donald Trump, Sarah Palin, Ted Cruz and Pat Robertson, those of little decency, integrity or intelligence who wish to lead us down a path of societal destruction through self-aggrandizement?

“You have to treat ‘em (women) like shit.” – Donald Trump

Are we really the intolerant, ignorant, childish, petty, hateful, vindictive people that Donald Trump believes us, wants us and ultimately needs and is counting on us to be? A five time draft dodger, he demeans those who have served and suffered for it, and a nation applauds.  He refers to women as bimbos, pigs, ugly, disgusting, whose proper place is on their knees in front of him, and his polls rise. He blames the poor, the powerless, the disenfranchised, those with the least, for the relatively, non-existent problems of the wealthy, the powerful and the advantaged, and gathers praise. Although betrothing two women from foreign lands, he ridicules the accents, manner, traditions, behavior and customs of minority communities and recent immigrants, labeling them as rapists (an offense for which he has been accused) and violent criminals, and assures himself the Republican nomination. And, should he ever move on to the comical condemnation of the physically and mentally handicapped, the only remaining population he’s yet to scorn, will the American public still continue its mindless and cruel affirmation of Trump’s animosities?

A Moe and a Larry in search of their Curly

"He's (John McCain) not a war hero because he was captured. I like people that weren't captured."– Donald Trump

Are we no longer the free and liberty-laden land of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, the Voting Act? Are we now a nation of full rights only for the privileged few, the country that Donald Trump envisions? If so, I would wish to be no part of that U.S.A. Yet, as tempting as it might be to make the melodramatic and usually empty threat of future expatriation, as was so common among the Conservative corps surrounding both of President Obama’s successful elections, the practicality is questionable. Rather than true Americans departing for more amenable shores, we must use our voices, our pens, our ballots and our rights, while they still exist, to battle this unseemly wave of Right Wing detestation, xenophobia and chauvinism, and this preening peacock of a little man who arrogantly symbolizes only the worst of who we are. Impeding the further advancement of Donald Trump is not a choice, but a necessity, for the health, the legitimacy, and the very future of the United States of America.

“… she does have a very nice figure. I’ve said if Ivanka weren’t my daughter, perhaps I’d be dating her.” - Donald Trump

The Decline of Democracy. The Ascent of Idiocracy.

“Let us be lovers, we’ll marry our fortunes together
I’ve got some real estate here in my bag
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner’s pies
And walked off to look for America” - Paul Simon

 Any comments, questions, criticisms, candid confessions, cash contributions?  Contact me at butchersaprons@mail.com.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Baby Ka-Boom: The Rise of the Terror Baby (Revisited)

Way back, in an ancient time known as 2010, Republican Iowa Representative Steve King, a man far more frightening than the prolific horror author of similar nomenclature, was pushing the controversial concept of anchor babies. So extreme and so ludicrous was this nutty notion that he was laughed at like a million purposefully set-up crotch clouts on America's Funniest Home Videos. 

Now, it is 2015, like the Flintstones, a modern prehistoric era, when the Grand Old Party has reversed the clock and the calendar to lead us into a period of prejudice, intolerance, ignorance, hatred of all not-white, not-Christian, not-wealthy, and fear of both the female and those who promote history, facts and scientific belief.

Spearheading this deadly devolution of our great but clearly deteriorating nation is the current head of the Republican party - a spoiled, malevolent, philistine with a coyote pup on his head, a yellow stripe down his back, and a song of sociopathic, vainglorious enmity in his heart - Donald Trump. He, of little thought, tact, talent or ability, as worthless a human being as fiction could fabricate, has revived the nefarious notion of anchor babies. And, in current days, when what was once the extreme has become the Conservative norm, his intolerant cry has been seconded by all the other lemming-like losers who seek the nomination of the pachyderm party.

Here, before you, I re-present a blog post on this sorrowful subject from 2010. Usually, l would happily brag of my prescience. Today, I wish it weren't so.


Baby Ka-Boom: The Rise of the Terror Baby

“They’re coming to get you, Barbara” - Night of the Living Dead

Modern day Republicans spread lies like Elvis spread bacon fat on fried banana sandwiches – with enthusiasm, gusto and pride. And, as with Elvis, while they might enjoy some short term gain, in the long run, there’s bound to be undesirable consequences. They’ve lied to you about the grand malevolence of gay marriage, for instance. Regarding the recent ruling in the Golden State, disgraced and forced to resign former Speaker of the House, Newt Gingrich, had this to say -

“Judge Walker's ruling overturning Prop 8 is an outrageous disrespect for our Constitution and for the majority of people of the United States who believe marriage is the union of husband and wife.”

This is a topic of some expertise for Newt, as this thrice married, serial philanderer does know a thing or two about destroying marriages. But, unless a straight couple and a gay couple are trying to book the same Saturday in June, or are fighting over the last Lennox gravy boat in stock at Macy’s needed to complete their settings, I just don’t see the problem.

Then there’s Death Panels - a concept that came to Sarah Palin when she nodded off one night, mukluks in place after one too many hot toddies, during a Cinemax showing of Logan’s Run.

But, of course, the vast majority of right-wing political “truth-stretching” involves the legitimately, legally elected, Barack Obama whom, they have taught us, is a Kenyan born, Marxist, Nazi, Islamic terrorist trying to brainwash American school children and traveling the world to espouse the evils of the country he has set out to destroy - the United States. To delve into such a disparate and desperate level of prevarication there is obviously something about him that the right is just not O-KKK with. I wish I could put my finger on it.

And now, there’s the latest bit of fear-mongering from the GOP, and by far my personal favorite, scary babies! Apparently, thinking that there’s no bridge too far for the Snuggie buying, American public they want you to fear babies - Evil Death Babies! Now, the Evil Death Babies (patent pending - heretofore to be referred to as EDBs) come in two categories depending on which constituency your representative is pandering to at the time. For people who distrust Jimmy Smits, the EDBs are called Anchor Babies. If, instead, you’re suspicious of Christiane Amanpour, then the EDB’s are called Terror Babies - a much more colorful and dramatic moniker. I’m not precisely sure how the Terror Baby plan is supposed to work, as I’m not clinically insane, but I do know that it involves terrorist moms coming here, giving birth to new American citizen EDB’s (curse that 14th Amendment) taking them back home to Terrorkistan, where they then spend the next 30 years teaching them to hate the New York Yankees, TGI-Fridays and relaxed fit jeans with built-in-comfort, elastic waist bands

However, while universally recognized as a crafty, very dangerous and thoroughly fictional foe, there are ways to defend against and disarm the Terror Baby. They can, for example, be easily distracted for long periods of time by the mere jangling of shiny keys in front of their cherubic, yet vile, faces. If you wish to momentarily win over a TB (Terror Baby) it is believed that they utterly enjoy the company of a doggy, particularly a “Mommy, look a big doggy,“ doggy. So be sure to stay well stocked, canine-wise, at all times. But, the most valuable and lethal of all the weapons at your disposal is, of course, the binky. Nothing is more effective than the well-timed placement of a binky into the depraved, little, foul mouth of your cunning adversary. Once lulled by the comforting sensations of said binky, the baby can then be apprehended and brought to justice where the little demon will eventually be placed, without benefit of trial or hearing, in the Terror Baby Wing of Gitmo - Elmo.

If only the far-right weren’t so reckless, mean-spirited and poisonous - and such a danger to our nation, its people and its future - they would be so amusing.

Friday, August 14, 2015

Signs of the Apocalypse, Part 2 – GOP Presidential Campaign Posters

“I wonder who they are
The men who really run this land
And I wonder why they run it
With such a thoughtless hand” – David Crosby

Welcome to the thrilling, chilling and never-ending saga of the 2016 Republican Presidential carnival, fun house and freak show. You’ve waited all week. You’ve been at the edge of your Barcalounger. What little slumber you’ve managed has been fitful and excruciatingly unsatisfying. You’ve suffered our shared national indignation in the non-stop, 24 hour press coverage of every Donald Trump utterance, act and bodily function. MSNBC, once the sole television voice of Progressive America has degraded itself in its transformation into “All Donald, All the Time” and the once proud U.S. of A. stoops humbled and humiliated, a Dogpatchian Hooterville in the eyes and estimation of the international community. Ancient, cave-dwelling, hidden civilizations, lacking in language or alphabet, gape, wide-eyed and slack-jawed in astonishment at a culture so enthralled and enchanted by the obvious and oblivious, malicious-minded missing link who prowls the gaudy, gold-plated halls of Trump Tower and other such bejeweled and bedazzled brothels, as they consider us with justified attitudes of deserved superiority, and wretched sympathy.

But, as surely as there is a God in Heaven (whoops, regular readers will recall my avowed atheism) this I swear to you, sanity and sensibility will once again regain a foothold and reign supreme, and our long national nightmare will reach its blessed conclusion, for, finally, “… and several butcher’s aprons” proudly presents its heralded and highly anticipated presentation of part 2 of “Signs of the Apocalypse – GOP Presidential Campaign Posters” (a bit too much of a build-up?) When last we met, the lampooning of the GOP herd commenced with the ten participants who debated in the evening hours. This week hence, we close with suggested slogans for the lesser polling seven who contended while the sun still shone and we worker bees yet toiled.

For those interested in the earlier installment, please follow this link. For those utterly apathetic about it, feel free to do the same, but don’t restrain your resentment.

As is always the case, the comically captioned pictures can be enlarged for clearer comprehension with but a single, magical mouse click.

For a little extra course credit, one gratis, additional debate related jape -

“What are their names
And on what streets do they live?
I'd like to ride right over
This afternoon and give
Them a piece of my mind
About peace for mankind
Peace is not an awful lot
To ask”

From “If I Could Only Remember My Name,” David Crosby’s 1971 debut solo album, “What are their Names?”

Any comments, questions, criticisms, candid confessions, cash contributions?  Contact me at butchersaprons@mail.com.