brainsplotch

I should get at least one post in for February. I haven't felt like writing lately. The one time I had the urge (Monday the 17th), the inspiation disappeared quicker than a drop of water in the Sahara. I was set to write about the Saturday Night Live 50th anniversary show, but that flame blew out quickly. Maybe I'll tackle it again at some point. So, what else is new? The U.S. is still a shit show and Trump and his gangsters are ruling as authoritarians with no regard to checks and balances. All the creaks, gaps, and inadequacies of our Constitution have been exposed and exploited. Meanwhile, the Republicans in Congress are essentially too afraid to stand up to Trump. So we're fucked. Listen, I know that is a very reductive assessment of our current state of affairs in the United States...or is it? I can't remember if I mentioned reading Beyond Belief: a Chronicle of Murder and its Detection by Emlyn Williams. It's allegedly the book that Morrissey used as inspira...

I write this shortly after learning that Pete Hegseth: racist, alcoholic, domestic abuser, and philanderer who isn't qualified to be your local dog catcher, was confirmed as Secretary of Defense. We live in hell. I was silly enough to believe that, on January 20, 2021, Donald Trump's political career was over. After the horrors of January 6 and selling out his supporters, I thought for sure we were done with him. Surely, the failures of his presidency would be clear and the Republican Party would cut the cancer out and move on. How little did I know. Instead, he is back. His vengeance is at an extreme level. All of his executive orders designed to inflict as much pain as possible. He has made it clear that anyone who did not vote for him is the enemy, and nobody is safe. I curse everybody who voted for him, and save even more anger towards anyone who willingly sat out this election and didn't bother to vote. I have a hearty "fuck you" for all of you. So where do w...

I gotta tell you, this three day weekend is kinda sucking so far. The Lions fall on their faces last night and get blown out by Washington, 45-31. Super Bowl hopes dashed before they could really get started. Then, I wake up early and do Wordle and don't get it correct for the first time in three years. And, worst of all, tomorrow we begin day one (of Part 2) in a Christo-fascist oligarchy. The ignorant, short-term memory-addled America electorate gave the presidency back to the failed reality TV host. I will do all in my power not to watch any of the inauguration. The remainder of the weekend, I would do myself and my mental health well by staying off social media, reading books, and catching up on movies and favorite streaming shows. Anything to numb the pain.

The Detroit Lions lost tonight, and their season is over. No Super Bowl this year. Now that the dream has died, I can finally refer to the big game by its real name and not a euphemism. As any longtime Lions fan can attest, it's always best to expect disappointment at some point and not elevate ones hopes to high. It only ends in pain. I suppose the silver lining is maybe I'll get more reading done.

Though it's always a relief to reclaim our living room after removing all the decorations from the Christmas tree and hauling it out of the house, I never fail to feel melancholy after dropping it in the pile of dead trees at the township office. Seeing this mass dumping ground of once gloriously lit and bejeweled trees signals the passing of the holiday season with a blunt finality. It also makes me ponder this strange ritual of the Christmas tree. Before I launch into this unintentionally Scrooge-like essay, allow me to make it clear that I do like having a Christmas tree, and much of what I write here is tongue-in-cheek. That said, Think about it: we have massive tree farms that grow coniferous trees for the sole purpose of selling them for Christmas. We holiday consumers buy these trees for, say, $50 to $100 (and possibly more) for maybe a month of use. These trees are chopped down and plunked in glorified buckets of water in our homes. The primitive life support buckets stave ...

As a follow-up to yesterday's post, older son safely arrived in Germany late last night and the Detroit Lions dispatched the Minnesota Vikings, 31-9 to win the NFC North Division title and a #1 seed in the NFC playoffs. First #1 playoff seed in Detroit Lions franchise history. First Lions team in the 94-year history of the franchise to go undefeated in road games. Most regular season wins (15) in franchise history. Consecutive division titles for the first time in franchise history. Undefeated vs. the three other teams in the NFC North division, regarded as the best division in the National Football League. As a little icing on top, the Lions won in San Francisco for the first time since 1975--in a game that was meaningless for the Lions. Looking a few weeks down the line, I don't even want to mention that big game that rhymes with Trooper Poll, but... Okay, forget I mentioned that. I'm too nervous for that.

We took older son to the airport to return to Germany. No matter how old he gets or how many times we've done it, it never really gets much easier to say farewell. Maybe a little easier, but not a heck of a lot easier. It's fun having him home since he livens things up so much, but he's also an adult and has to live his own life. While at Detroit Metro Airport, we encounted an invasion of purple and gold clad people: Minnesota Vikings fans arriving in Detroit for the huge Lions/Vikings game tonight. This is a particularly monumental game for the Lions, one that I think I would be better off watching alone in a padded room. I keep trying to remind myself that I have no control over what happens, and that these wealthy professional athletes have no idea who I am, nor care. By virtue of being a fan, I feel I have a stake in this game--but in reality I don't. All of this is my defense mechanism in the event the Lions lose, in which case I'll likely be sad no matter how...

2024 was challenging and the election results were disappointing, to say the least. Four more years of Trump is guaranteed to be harmful if not downright disastrous, so 2025 will not be any better from a political standpoint. That said, we can still use the year to take pleasure in small things. Enjoy books, music, movies, art, walks in your neighborhood, time spent with friends and family. Eliminate toxic elements from your life. That could include some or most of social media or people who offer nothing positive. Feel free to take breaks from the news if the news causes you distress. Remember that you have no control over how the ignorant and uninformed among us think or vote. It is of no use stressing out over them. Focus on what you can control, namely yourself and your immediate surroundings. I wish all of you who read this blog the best 2025 possible.