Tuesday, August 25, 2020
Saturday, August 22, 2020
Harold and the mothball
Some wag or other has planted mothballs in the chocolate box, with hilarious results! This is one of the best examples of a Lloyd reaction scene, which he can carry on for full minutes with great effect. This reflects the innate acting genius which drove a lot of his comedy. Only Chaplin is comparable.
Thursday, August 20, 2020
KILLER GOLDFISH! Ghastly horrors straight from your nightmares
The tubby, out-sized goldfish, which can weigh in at up to three kilograms, according to the government, is able to reproduce rapidly without males
Tyler Dawson
Aug 20, 2020
“We’re basically just catching and killing where we’re finding them.” GOVERNMENT OF ALBERTA
EDMONTON — The Alberta government is sending out warnings about Prussian carp, an invasive variety of goldfish, that have been found in ponds in the province.
“Catch it, kill it,” says a notice on the Alberta government website. “If you catch Prussian carp while angling, please kill it and either take it home to eat or properly dispose of it in the garbage.”
The tubby, out-sized goldfish, which can weigh in at up to three kilograms, according to the government, is a highly invasive species that reproduces rapidly. It’s not known how it first entered Alberta’s waterways, although it has been there since at least 2015.
It is able to survive out of water “for relatively long periods of time” and is also able to outcompete native fish species.
“Many invasive carp were imported as pond or aquarium species or sold in Asian food markets,” says a government fact sheet from 2015 that was updated in 2018.
The fish has now spread to Saskatchewan, too, though the two western provinces remain the only jurisdictions in North America with the Prussian variety of carp.
It is able to survive out of water “for relatively long periods of time” and is also able to outcompete native fish species.
“Many invasive carp were imported as pond or aquarium species or sold in Asian food markets,” says a government fact sheet from 2015 that was updated in 2018.
The fish has now spread to Saskatchewan, too, though the two western provinces remain the only jurisdictions in North America with the Prussian variety of carp.
Notably, they can reproduce without males, so they can spawn and spread rapidly. “It’s a little freaky,” says Nicole Kimmel, an invasive species expert with the Alberta government.
“They’re very opportunistic fish,” she says.
“We believe humans are also picking them up and moving them around,” says Kimmel.
They, like many other species, are hard to control. But the government is urging people to report them as they find them.
“We’re basically just catching and killing where we’re finding them,” Kimmel says.
It’s just one of multiple invasive species that have made their homes in Canada. Some roam the land. Some grow on it. Others have taken roost in lakes, rivers and streams. Some look fairly anodyne.
Others are ghastly horrors straight from your nightmares.
“They’re very opportunistic fish,” she says.
“We believe humans are also picking them up and moving them around,” says Kimmel.
They, like many other species, are hard to control. But the government is urging people to report them as they find them.
“We’re basically just catching and killing where we’re finding them,” Kimmel says.
It’s just one of multiple invasive species that have made their homes in Canada. Some roam the land. Some grow on it. Others have taken roost in lakes, rivers and streams. Some look fairly anodyne.
Others are ghastly horrors straight from your nightmares.
The Ontario government has pre-emptively sounded the alarm on some species that are known to be in waterways in the vicinity of the province: The Wels Catfish, for example, one of the largest freshwater species of fish, earning it the name The European Maneater, is already on the “prohibited” species list.
In British Columbia, there are fines of up to $250,000 for releasing snakeheads — the so-called Frankenfish — that can grow up to a metre long and schlep over land to find their next home. One was caught and killed in 2012 Burnaby after officials drained the Central Park Lagoon.
All of which is to say, if you’re going out fishing, invest in a fish bonker. And a phone to report anything unusual.
PLEASE NOTE. This story is total crap (and note: that's an anagram of "carp"!). The "facts" in it are so lunatic that NO ONE could ever believe it. It's a wonder this thing wasn't published on April Fools Day. I've actually highlighted the parts of it that make the least sense. I mean, a killer goldfish? And one which doesn't even live in the water, but crawls around on land? And which is born pregnant, like the tribbles on Star Trek? A goldfish, yes, kids, a GOLDFISH which is described as a "ghastly horror straight from your nightmares"? This is such a howlingly far-fetched item that I am sure it's meant to be tongue-in-cheek - or tongue-in-carp. Or else, it's simply CRAP. (And why is that woman named Kimmel, anyway? Isn't there a comedian by that name?)
Wednesday, August 19, 2020
IS there a ray of hope?
Most people got soul if they want to try
Let love be your goal and let it fly
'Cause it's easy to hate and to draw a line
But error is human forgiveness is divine
I know a lot of people who think like me
That this world can be a place that's filled with harmony
First there's a lot of things we've got to rearrange
Put an end to hate and lies
So peace can come and truth shall reign
As long as there is a ray of hope
Lord, I don't mind going out and doin' my work
Light up the way to brotherhood
Help us to make His dream understood
Sometimes the road gets a little bit rough
Your strength is all gone, you had enough
But there's people who win without making fists
Our world won't survive lest we think like this
I can't imagine any greater need
To treat each other as we'd like to be
It's a gas just knowing what is yet to come
Not unless we get together
Got to get together one by one
As long as there is a ray of hope
Lord, I don't mind goin out and doin my work
Light up the way to brotherhood
I got to keep on searchin, keep on searchin
'Til I find out
Keep on searchin, keep on searchin
'Til I find out
Keep on searchin, keep on searchin
'Til I find out
Gonna take a little look way down inside
Gotta find out Lord, why I'm alive
We'll pray for a day when all men are free
And people can live like they're meant to be
Meanwhile it's all up to you and me
Start working together towards this dream
Lord, I don't mind goin out and doin my work
Light up the way to brotherhood
Help us to make His dream understood
As long as there is a ray of hope
I got to wait my turn 'til I can vote
As long as there is a ray of hope
Blogger's note. This song popped into my head, but the version I remembered was hard to chase down, because it isn't the original. It ends, strangely, with a couple lines from Battle Hymn of the Republic - but consider the source. To Americans, it's just a wonderful and patriotic hymn with no bad connotations. It's "glory, glory, hallelujah" - which reminds me of THIS:
This isn't a time for "vict'ry" OR defeat, but a time for sanity regained before it is too late and total anarchy descends on the catastrophic mess that is the United States.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
W. B. Yeats, The Second Coming
Tuesday, August 18, 2020
Strange images, late at night
A collection of images from my files, gleaned from many years and many sources. All odd.
Saturday, August 15, 2020
COVID spikes: don't blame the kids!
These are KIDS, people. Like all of us, they're tired of this shit and don't see an end in sight. But they haven't yet gained the maturity to take the long view, and neither have many adults, who have no excuse and should be setting a better example. These young people are missing the milestones of their coming of age, a situation that could affect them for the rest of their lives. What they are experiencing is real grief, not just youthful rebellion. And yes, bar owners should not stand there smoking a cigarette and ringing up the cash register. If they see COVID violations, it is their responsibility to close up shop IMMEDIATELY and stay that way until it's truly safe to re-open.
HEALTH
Here’s what B.C. youth have to say about the province’s coronavirus spike
By Simon Little Global News
Posted August 15, 2020 4:01 pm
A public health expert says telling younger survivor stories is much more effective in flattening B.C.'s curve.
As British Columbia faces a second wave of the coronavirus, youth in the province are speaking out about how they’re being affected by the pandemic.
It comes as new modelling shows that the recent surge in new COVID-19 cases is being driven largely by young adults, aged 20-39 years old.
READ MORE: Why one expert says B.C. fumbled its coronavirus message to young people
The issue has prompted the province to redouble its efforts to communicate with youth, including recruiting social media influencers, and calling on celebrities to add their voices to the campaign.
CKNW Radio’s Lynda Steele Show spoke to some of B.C.’s youth, who say their voices aren’t being heard in the debate.
Life on pause
Olivia Barbieri of Surrey says youth are being bombarded with “exhausting” messages about staying safe during the pandemic.
The 20-year-old understands the concern, but argues that older adults also need to recognize that her demographic is being uniquely impacted by the virus.
“There are some events in certain stages of life — like weddings, graduation, like having different study plans — that are very unique to these times of our lives,” she said.
“It’s really hard, especially as young people, to be like — okay, well our parents and everyone else have had these opportunities, so it’s hard to be like, okay, this isn’t happening for us.”
Barbieri, a third-year university student, was supposed to go to the Netherlands for a semester abroad this September. That has now been scrapped.
Sign up for our Health IQ newsletter for the latest coronavirus updates
She’ll now be studying online instead.
But she says many of those cases don’t involve giving up once-in-a-lifetime opportunities.
“I’ve been struggling,” she said. “You know, I would be packing up, I would be getting on a plane.”
Barbieri says she understands that all age groups have had to make sacrifices during the pandemic.
Back to school fears
Burnaby’s Ervin Cadiz, 16, is slated to head back to school next month, and says he doesn’t want to go back unless he can do it online.
“It’s upsetting to be forced back into school when the government has told us to keep our bubbles and contacts small,” he said.
“I followed all the precautions and guidelines set by health care officials ever since quarantine happened. So why is it now that we’re being put in groups larger than 50?”
Protesting B.C’s back-to-school plan
Cadiz said he’s worried he’ll be regularly exposed to large groups of people at school who may or may not have been following precautions, and will have to rely on transit daily to get there.
He worries he could come in contact with the virus, and bring it home to his family.
“It’s like we’re being given this ultimatum. Risk getting your parents sick, risk getting your relatives sick, or don’t go to school and get the education that you need,” he said.
Mixed messages
Tanysha Klassen, 24, of New Westminster says the province’s youth aren’t getting a consistent message from officials.
Klassen says she’s been working from home during the pandemic, wearing a mask and limiting her trips out for essentials, such as groceries.
But she says the way the province has reopened has suggested to young people that going out is fine.
READ MORE: Coronavirus exposure reported on 2 nights at Vancouver nightclub
“Things like restaurants and bars and nightclubs have been given the go-ahead to open up by the provincial health officer,” she said.
“Then we’re getting these announcements every day with the cases going up, saying that these are often coming from bars and nightclubs. And then we hear the media blaming it on young people because young people are the ones that go to these places.”
Klassen said it’s unfair to pin those new cases on youth when it’s the responsibility of bar operators to ensure safety protocols are in place and being followed.
She said if those establishments aren’t doing enough, it’s up to the province to crack down on them for breaking the rules.
“It seems like young people are just following the rules,” she said. “If people shouldn’t be going to bars and nightclubs, then they shouldn’t be open.”
Getting tougher?
Shumail Javed, a 29-year-old from Burnaby, says the province should have taken a clearer and tougher line in its messaging from Day 1.
He says he’s seen crowding at “party places” such as the beach and few people wearing masks.
“Maybe all people from different segments of society should have come together, form a digital campaign that could have helped people understand this,” he said.
“Make sure that it was simple, strictly like wearing face masks. Or enforcing fines in the party places like Kelowna or Tofino.”
Javed said the messaging around masks, in particular, has been too casual, leaving many people to feel like the pandemic had eased back to business as usual.
He said the province has also failed to open up more outdoor spaces and activities where people could congregate and have fun safely, prompting people to head back to bars and clubs.
Friday, August 14, 2020
Harold Lloyd: EEK! ACK! OOK! owwwwwww
The many faces of Harold, who does panic better than anyone else in film history.
Wednesday, August 12, 2020
"Kinda Wild and Free": the Good Little Bad Girl in '60s pop music
This is one of those posts that has been kicking around in my mind forever. There is a certain genre of vintage pop that can only be described as "class distinction morality tales". Songs like Down in the Boondocks and Dawn ("go away, I'm no good for you") are nothing but self-pitying screams from "poor boys" who can never be good enough (economically? Socially?) for the wispy, likely virginal maidens they yearn for.
Then there's that other kind of girl.
Not on a pedestal. She don't have no money, her clothes are kind of funny, her hair is kind of wild and free. . . You know the kind.
Windy. Eleanor. Rosemary. Sloopy. And those others, literally nameless, the "rag doll" and the "brown-eyed girl", immortalized in song and trapped forever in the fiery amber of 1960s youth.
There's something sweetly loose about these girls, the swingin' hair and slightly raggy, thrift-shoppy clothes, a free spirit who might be a little more than free with her sexual favors. It's there, not spelled out, but implied. In some ways this is only a celebration of non-conformity and breaking free from the dreadful shackles of convention. It's as if these guys (whoever they are - there must have been a lot of them) can only find personal freedom through these barefoot waifs who wade right into the public fountain and don't mind getting their (long, swingin') hair wet.
I can't possibly get into all the lyrics of these things - you can play them if you want! But there are themes which can be gleaned from taking a closer look at them.
Windy (The Association)
Who's trippin' down the streets of the city, smilin' at everybody she sees? Everyone knows it's Windy. It's a strange name, and I wonder if she was actually called Wendy in the first draft. This is the quintessential free-spirited-girl anthem, and it's fairly unremarkable except for a couple of truly memorable lines: "And Windy has stormy eyes/That flash at the sound of lies." This is startling, and reveals the core of morality in this raggedy girl who cannot stand phoniness and posing. Windy is going to be a bit of a challenge to anyone who can't see past her out-at-the-knees jeans and split ends. She'll find you out, catch you out, even as she reaches out to capture the moment.
Eleanor (The Turtles)
This is kind of a strange one: "Eleanor, gee I think you're swell, and you really do me well, you're my pride and joy, ET CETERA". This is the ultimate blow-off of someone you care about: "I love you, etc. etc." - but it's also uniquely '60s, that offhandedness which is a thin disguise for a profound yearning to be captivated and captured by a free-spirited girl. The title of the movie Love, Actually seems to borrow from this sentiment.
Love Grows (Where my Rosemary Goes)
"She ain't got no money, her clothes are kinda funny, her hair is kinda wild and free. . . " Oh yeah. You might not take this girl home to meet your mother, but you'd take her to the park, maybe even in the dark, smoke up, and get down to basics. "She talks kinda lazy, people say she's crazy, and her life's a mystery" - a common element among these characters, later immortalized in John Lennon's magnificent line: "It's a love that has no past." Like a lot of these girls (and by the way, they ARE girls, not women), there is an element of magic power and even mysticism about them: Rosemary "really has a magical spell/And it's workin' so well" - that he can't get away.
Hang On Sloopy (The McCoys)
This is the true nitty-gritty, a real wrong-side-of-the-tracks scenario in which Sloopy lives in a very bad part of town, and "everybody, yeah, tries to put my Sloopy down". Sloopy reminds me a bit of "sloppy", of course, but a sloop is also a boat, and thus a symbol of freedom (remember the Beach Boys' sublime Sloop John B?). For some reason, in picturing Sloopy, I think of a girl in a torn grey sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, and jeans so tight they look painted on. Long black hair and thick Cleopatra eyeliner, like very early Cher.
The most provocative line, "Sloopy, I don't care what your Daddy do" makes you wonder: just how bad IS he, anyway? A thief, a pimp, a drug dealer, or just the local rag-and-bone man doing a dirty low-status job because somebody has to do it? The repeated chorus of "hang on, Sloopy/Sloopy, hang on" is a strange one - does he mean "hang on to your self-worth", or what? A loose girl hanging on - to what, we can never be sure.
Along Comes Mary (The Association)
This one has a VERY interesting lyric, which I will actually reproduce here because to me, it has elements of Mariology (the study of apparitions of the Virgin Mary). The tune is basically one note, which is intriguing as the lyrics tumble over each other in one long blurt. But the words are unusually complex, a long skein of poetry with a subtext that is almost disturbing. This song was quoted in one of Leonard Bernstein's Young People's Concerts as an example of the Dorian Mode, though I doubt if The Association was thinking in those terms when they wrote it. You know you are NOT in typical pop-music-land when you hear lines like these:
And does she want to see the stains, the dead remains of all the pains she left the night before
Or will their waking eyes reflect the lies, and make themRealize their urgent cry for sight no more
Every time I think that I'm the only one who's lonely
Someone calls on me
And every now and then I spend my time in rhyme and verse
And curse those faults in me
And then along comes Mary
And does she want to give me kicks, and be my steady chick
And give me pick of memories
Or maybe rather gather tales of all the fails and tribulations
No one ever sees
When we met I was sure out to lunch
Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch
When vague desire is the fire in the eyes of chicks
Whose sickness is the games they play
And when the masquerade is played and neighbor folks make jokes
As who is most to blame today
And then along comes Mary
And does she want to set them free, and let them see reality
From where she got her name
And will they struggle much when told that such a tender touch as hers
Will make them not the same
When we met I was sure out to lunch
Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch
And when the morning of the warning's passed, the gassed
And flaccid kids are flung across the stars
The psychodramas and the traumas gone
The songs are left unsung and hung upon the scars
And then along comes Mary
And does she want to see the stains, the dead remains of all the pains
She left the night before
Or will their waking eyes reflect the lies, and make them
Realize their urgent cry for sight no more
When we met I was sure out to lunch
Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch
Someone calls on me
And every now and then I spend my time in rhyme and verse
And curse those faults in me
And then along comes Mary
And does she want to give me kicks, and be my steady chick
And give me pick of memories
Or maybe rather gather tales of all the fails and tribulations
No one ever sees
When we met I was sure out to lunch
Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch
When vague desire is the fire in the eyes of chicks
Whose sickness is the games they play
And when the masquerade is played and neighbor folks make jokes
As who is most to blame today
And then along comes Mary
And does she want to set them free, and let them see reality
From where she got her name
And will they struggle much when told that such a tender touch as hers
Will make them not the same
When we met I was sure out to lunch
Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch
And when the morning of the warning's passed, the gassed
And flaccid kids are flung across the stars
The psychodramas and the traumas gone
The songs are left unsung and hung upon the scars
And then along comes Mary
And does she want to see the stains, the dead remains of all the pains
She left the night before
Or will their waking eyes reflect the lies, and make them
Realize their urgent cry for sight no more
When we met I was sure out to lunch
Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch
Brown-eyed Girl (Van Morrison)
This one is literally about "makin' love in the green grass/Behind the stadium," which doesn't get much more nitty-gritty than that. It's all about having sex on the ground, outdoors, in public. The brown-eyed girl automatically has connotations of a girl who ISN'T blue-eyed/blonde (Aryan? Just kidding) - in fact, this may even be a way to racialize her in a subtle way, or paint her as a little exotic. Hey where did we go, days when the rains came? Down in the hollow, playin' a new game. Laughin' and a-runnin', skippin' and a-jumpin'. . . You know the rest.
Rag Doll (Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons)
The rest of the town sees her as "easy", but Frankie insists she's so much more than that, and does not even want to change anything about her: "I love you just the way you are." But the last verse takes a pretty dark turn: "I'd change her sad rags into glad rags if I could/My folks won't let me 'cause they say that she's no good." It doesn't get much more graphic than that.
Baby Don't Go (Sonny and Cher)
This is one of my all-time-favorite songs by a vastly underrated pop duo, Sonny and Cher. Sonny wrote most of their hits, including Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves, Little Man, Bang-Bang, and A Cowboy's Work is Never Done - all sharply witty, even edgy songs with smarter lyrics than people seem to realize. He's just dumb old Sonny Bono, isn't he? But without Sonny, there never would have been a Cher.
He created her, Pygmalion-like, and she even acknowledged the fact long after they parted. She practically climbed up on his funeral pyre when he died skiing into a tree, and completely hijacked the funeral with her sobbing histrionics, embarrassing his widow who was sitting right there watching the production. At any rate, this time there's a twist to it and the song is from the girl's perspective, a teenage girl who has been traumatized by unspoken abuse. She comes across as an orphaned waif who "never had a mother" and hardly knew her Dad, and (of course) buys her rags and tatters at the second-hand store.
The plaintive chorus "baby, don't go" seems to come from a phantom lover in response to her truly poignant and soul-baring soliloquy. It's as if she must spell out or even insist that "you're the only boy I've had" to try to defend her tattered reputation. The tight chords in the chorus with their astringent dissonance have the plaintive pull of a train whistle in the distance, the train she's about to catch as she leaves that intolerable place, that town without pity (to quote another classic). "When I get to the city/My tears will all be dried/My eyes will look so pretty/No one's gonna know I cried." Those are great lines, along with her promise to "be a lady some day".
So what IS the scenario here? She has to go away - where, and why? To have an abortion? To evade a vagrancy charge? To get away from an abusive stepdad, or maybe just to prove that the town is wrong about her? It's never spelled out, but like Sloopy and Rag Doll, she has been surrounded by judgement and disapproval all her life just for being who she is, and must escape, must run for her life.
But the melancholy half-promise to that phantom lover adds another level of poignancy: "Maybe I'll be back some day." The implication is that she can't return until she has made herself worthy. I love this particular video from a '60s pop music show in which the dancers, all doing the jerk and the shing-a-ling, are photographed in a kind of kaleidoscope effect, while Cher, eyes rimmed in black Cleopatra kohl, sings this knockout song with a kind of expressionless deadpan. But my oh my, how Cher could sing back then, before she ruined her voice with that godawful forced-sounding vibrato. She sang with warmth, clarity and passion. As with the best poetry, so much is left unsaid, and we must fill in the blanks with our own yearnings.
SPECIAL BONUS VIDEO! This is the clip with Leonard Bernstein playing an excerpt from Along Comes Mary, a song he was said to have admired for its dynamic chord structure and complex lyrics. Sweet as the punch!
Monday, August 10, 2020
Friday, August 7, 2020
"It's Baxter!" The Meow Mix cat crashes the wedding
I believe this is ALL the Baxter commercials for Meow Mix. If you know of any others, PLEASE let me know! Surely Baxter was the ultimate in feline advertisement, outmeowing Morris (though he had more staying power, I think). The other two are also Meow Mix ads at their finest: the infamous Close Encounters of the Meow Kind, and the even-more-infamous Disco Kitties. I can never get enough of these, and it's the first time I've had them all in one place!
Thursday, August 6, 2020
GEE, ANTHONY FAUCI! - A Randy Rainbow Song Parody
Ohhh, OK. . . I know I just finished dissing the satirists, but I stumbled on this guy and it was just too excruciatingly GOOD not to share. The thing is, though it is satire, the chorus is "We're in hell, we're in hell. . ." - which they certainly are. His lyrics are amazing, and I love how he calls Trump "gurl".
Wednesday, August 5, 2020
So how DO we get through all this shit?
I find myself posting outrageous Trump stories (most of them connected directly to a jaw-dropping denial that COVID-19 even exists), then feeling bad about just passing all that negative energy along. But there are times I honestly do not know what else to do.
I keep vowing I'll learn to ignore all this, but if you're a sentient being who cares at all about the world, you can't just tune it all out. You can't "process" it, as the expression goes, because nobody wants to swallow toxic shit. It just runneth over, kind of, and though I do try to deal with one day at a time, and though PART of today was really good (sandhill cranes on Burnaby Lake, a blackbird eating out of my hand), my day can take a hairpin turn towards incredulous dismay and even depression. And I keep saying to myself, my God, why are you getting depressed about THIS?
I have no control over it, except, as the trite saying goes, "my attitude towards it". So am I supposed to be optimistic, neutral, or what? I don't know how to feel about it. I am not at all surprised liquor consumption is through the roof now, especially with people who do not usually drink heavily. I stopped drinking in 1990 (darn it all), so that rather self-defeating avenue is closed to me. I want to stop posting Trump stories, but I feel like I have to share them to take some of the crushing load off. I try to not post long blurts, and at least part of today was great, but one thing does not cancel out another. The evening news is now so breathtakingly grotesque that I sometimes flee the room halfway through.
We cannot escape the primitive workings of the reptilian brain which is supposedly in charge of the free world. I also realize with dismay how heavily satirized and sent up Trump has been for more than four years, and how it has done nothing at all to change an astonishingly dangerous situation. In fact, satire and laughter is a way to escape and make things LESS awful. Humor is a distancing tool and a survival mechanism, but it's also a way to put unpleasant things away from you. I always used to think: yes, Alec Baldwin is brilliant in this role, but it just ain't funny, folks. It's making a completely unacceptable situation palatable through the endorphin-burst of a good laugh. Not that much different from taking a few stiff shots.
I have bipolar disorder and have started writing about it more lately, thinking, well, what have I got to lose? I'm not protecting anything, and (as the kid in the playground said long ago) nobody likes me anyway. But if this revelation affects how people feel about me, either way, well, that's not why I'm doing it. Right now, I'm doing it because some days, like today, I am trying to hang on to a rope bare-handed that is coated in a particularly deadly, slick oil, and though my desperate hand-over-hand is now so fast it's a blur, I feel I'm losing ground a lot of the time because there is nothing but an abyss below me. At present, I have NO medical support whatsoever, NO avenue for counselling, and basically have to keep my problems to myself. So the hackneyed exhortation to "reach out for help" isn't very helpful right now, as it doesn't seem to apply to me.
Will I get through this? I really don't know. Everyone is doing an awful lot of whistling in the dark - again, as a survival mechanism, and as a way to put the unpleasantness away from us so we can get on with some kind of a day. I have never known the world to have this many overwhelming problems on this scale, all at once, and even with the best President in the world, things would still be harrowing, a long and heavy grind for everyone, and downright catastrophic for some.
I tell myself: OK then, I'm a Canadian, I might have this mental condition but I'm not quite hospital material (yet!), my husband and I are well and have a roof over our heads, our kids are employed and doing well and so are THEIR kids. I tell myself all this, many, many times a day, but the dismay still pours over me and creeps into every crevice like a thick and very toxic fog.
So. . . I keep getting up in the morning like everyone else, with no safety net medically or mentally (and it's ironic that during my long years of stability, I had more "help" than I ever needed, even if it was the wrong kind). Now there's just nothing, and many times a day I say, OK then, I'm being thrown back on my own resources, and might this not be a test of my ability to - to - oh fuck, I give up! It's not like that at all. I want my Mum, and even when she was alive she was indifferent to me, to the point that I was not even mentioned in her obituary, a fact which most people find hard to believe. But I want SOMEBODY'S Mum, and I am tired of trying to reflexively "mother myself" when I just don't have anything left in me to nurture anyone at all.
Tuesday, August 4, 2020
Trump's nonsensical self-justifying drivel: "What the f*ck is he talking about?"
PIERS MORGAN: President Trump's painfully deluded train-wreck HBO interview proved he hasn't just lost control of the coronavirus – he's lost control of reality
By Piers Morgan for MailOnline
Published:
07:33 EDT ,
4 August 2020
| Updated: 11:26 EDT ,
4
August 2020
In every great
American crisis, there is a moment where the whole world can see the true
character of a President.
For George W. Bush it
came when he was photographed staring down from the luxurious comfort of Air
Force One on the wreckage wrought by Hurricane Katrina, after his government's
woefully inadequate federal response. The picture made him look detached and
uncaring, and worst of all, a weak and ineffectual leader. He never recovered
from it.
For Bill Clinton, it
came with his infamous 'I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Ms
Lewinsky' declaration. When it turned out he had indeed had multiple sexual
relations with that woman, his reputation was badly damaged.
Conversely, for John
F. Kennedy, you could point to his rousing 1962 speech challenging America to go to the moon, instilling in Americans a spirit
of unlimited optimism, as the moment when he sparked a deep abiding popularity
that lasts to this day.
Similarly, for
Ronald Reagan, his audacious 'Mr Gorbachev, tear down this wall!' command at Berlin 's Brandenburg Gate to the leader of the Soviet Union , cemented his place in history.
For President Donald
J. Trump, there have been many grim moments during his catastrophic handling of
the coronavirus pandemic that may end up defining his presidency.
But last night,
during an extraordinary, toe-curling HBO interview with AXIOS's Jonathan Swan,
he exposed just why the US has become a horrifyingly bad template for how NOT to
combat Covid-19.
In an attempt to
defend his indefensible record, and specifically why the US has one of the worst death rates in the world, Trump
suddenly produced a collection of graphics.
'Look at some of
these charts,' he said. 'This one, right here, the United States is lowest…in numerous categories…lower than the
world.'
'In what?' said an
incredulous Swan.
'Take a look,' said
Trump, handing the chart over.
Swan, a very good
and well-prepared journalist, studied the chart quickly and forensically.
'Oh, you're doing
death as a proportion of cases,' he replied. 'I'm talking about death as a
proportion of population.'
'Well… well…' Trump
stammered.
'That's where the US is really bad,' persisted Swan, 'much worse than South Korea , Germany etc.'
'You can't do that!'
exclaimed Trump.
'Why can't I do
that?' asked Swan, looking understandably confused.
It was a stunning
exchange.
'You know there are
those that say you can test too much,' Trump blathered. 'You do know that?'
Swan didn't know
that, because nobody other than Trump has said that.
'Who says that?'
Swan asked.
'Oh, just read the
manuals,' Trump retorted. 'Read the books.'
'Manuals?' Swan
pressed. 'What manuals?'
Of course, there are
no manuals, or books, that say you can do too much coronavirus testing.
Obviously, as any
scientist will attest, you can never do enough testing. It's the only way to
get on top of this virus until there's a vaccine.
What Trump actually
means is that he wishes America did less testing so they didn't have so many cases
because it makes HIM look bad.
That's why he
doesn't want to talk about America 's appalling death toll because, again, it makes HIM
look bad.
'A thousand people
are dying a day,' Swan told him.
'They are dying,'
replied Trump. 'It's true. It is what it is.'
'It is what it is' -
that was the President's staggering response to the ongoing horrific slaughter
of Americans by a deadly virus.
No empathy, no
apology, no expression of sorrow.
Just a heartless,
dismissive shrug.
The problem for
Trump in this crisis is that the stats don't lie like he does.
When Swan pointed
out that South
Korea
has a population of 51 million people but has only suffered 300 coronavirus
deaths, Trump inferred, with zero evidence, that the statistics were fake news.
It's his default
response to any facts he doesn't like, but now he is being exposed by the cold,
hard reality of data-backed truth.
The World Health
Organisation reports today there have been 18,100,204 confirmed cases of
coronavirus in the world, and 690,257 deaths.
Of these, America has had 4,629,459 cases, which is 25% of the global
total, and 154,226 deaths which is 22% of the global total.
So whichever way you
look at the numbers, the United States is doing catastrophically badly.
Trump knows it,
everyone knows it.
But he also knows if
he admits it, it may cost him the election in November.
So, he's now reduced
to lying, obfuscating, deflecting, and anything else he can think of to avoid
being held accountable for what has happened on his watch.
Last night,
Americans saw their President deny the incontrovertible.
They saw him pretend
he's got coronavirus under control when he's completely lost control.
And they saw him
challenged relentlessly on all this bullsh*t by a top-class journalist
determined not to let him off the hook.
It made for
electrifying but very unedifying viewing, combining the detached uncaring
conduct of George W. Bush during the Katrina crisis with Bill Clinton's cynical
lying about Monica Lewinsky.
There were many
other awful moments during the interview, including Trump once again offering
weirdly uncritical support to accused child sex trafficker Ghislaine Maxwell,
refusing to call the late civil rights campaigning legend Congressman John
Lewis, 'impressive' because Lewis hadn't gone to his inauguration, and stoking
self-serving fears of election night mail voting fraud.
But it was his
meandering disingenuous nonsense about coronavirus that swiftly went viral
around the world.
Some people on
social media even assumed it must be a comedy sketch given how preposterous it
appeared and the fact it was appearing on a network famed for shows like Veep
and Succession.
This, sadly, was
very real.
I didn't laugh.
Instead, I cringed,
I despaired, and then I felt angry.
Trump's made the
crisis all about him, not the American people.
As a result, the
American people are dying in massive numbers all over the country.
Jonathan Swan's
constantly bemused face last night perfectly summed up what we were all
thinking as the President brandished his meaningless self-serving charts and
spouted his nonsensical self-justifying drivel: what the f*ck is he talking
about?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)