As I close in on 60, I find myself more and more comfortable with the idea of this phase of my life. I think I’m going to enjoy the rest of this farcical tale, probably more so than the first few acts. It feels like a really long childhood that will soon culminate in finally becoming an adult. Like the thing we’d all been waiting for, but didn’t realize. The wooden toy who becomes a real boy.
Each man has a moral obligation to live a life of principle, regardless of what is happening around him. If you are a minority of one, the truth is the truth.
I will never NOT be embarrassed and mortified by the fact that Americans elected this moronic oaf to high office. Twice. It insults every fiber of my being and undermines my faith in humanity. I knew we were stupid. I just didn’t realize we were so unnecessarily cruel and soulless.
I like to think of myself as special — just the same as everyone else. I hate knowing I’m not wonderfully and exceptionally unique. It’s so ordinary and pedestrian to be just another civilian. It’s like an ant standing up in the middle of the colony and belting out, “I Gotta Be Me!”
The police are not here “to protect and serve” you. That was just a motto someone in the LAPD came up with in 1950s. It has no legal bearing.
The police do not exist for the purposes of public safety. The Supreme Court has ruled they don’t have a duty to protect you from harm. They exist to protect property rights. Crime prevention is not their mission, nor do they solve crimes, with rare exceptions.
They are not your friends. They are not on your side.
I have discovered, however late in life, that the key to fulfillment is recognizing the power of saying no. Anne Lamott writes about getting drunk on the power of no, and finding she had to call people and beg them to take her back after repeatedly telling them no in a fit of ecclesiastical negation. It can be intoxicating and thrilling, but like all power must be wielded responsibly and with care.
My kids used to call me the Lawn Nazi. This was long before we had real Nazis running around again, and the only modern Nazi at the time was of the soup variety. I was the Lawn Nazi because I cared more about the lawn than the rest of the house. If I had my way, there would have been no traffic on it at all. No playing. No laying a blanket down and basking in the sun. No trampling of my meticulously cultured field of assorted grasses. Get off my lawn!
Is there a record of anyone associating with Trump and coming out on top of their game? The only person I can think of who hasn’t seemed to be “negatively” affected is Goebbels—I mean Stephen Miller—who would be a racist shoe salesmen at Payless if he wasn’t working for his Führer. He’s like a pig in shit.
There’s something to be said for allowing a little mystery in your writing. What can you imply but leave unsaid? Bring a little poetry to your analytical take. Make room for the shadows and the things that abide there. As we get more advanced in our craft, we discover that what we leave out, is just as important as what we put in.
Someone once said that if you don’t support the things you like, someday you’ll find they’re no longer available. Authoritarians always get rid of the artists first because they’re the truth tellers. Artists are always on the front lines. Be an artist, even if you’re not an artist. Be an artist anyway. #BeAnArtist#Creativity
You have to wonder what sort of work Stephen Miller would have gone into if he hadn’t found politics. Exterminator? Parking lot attendant? Angry Birthday Clown? Other guesses?
Writer. Journalist. Raconteur.I live in Cape May, New Jersey, USA, where I write about politics, culture, science, history, religion and travel. I look a bit like if Hagrid ate Harry. I hate bullies no matter what side they’re on. I'm kind, until you push me. Three kids. Seven grands. Running out of fucks.Phillies. Eagles. Liverpool.Pizzaiolo Extraordinaire.Publisher of four @medium pubs: Ellemeno, Rome, Hopping Frog Studios, and A Bit Dodgy. Signal: dtm.13