Wednesday, June 21, 2017

OT: Another Cousin Emerges

My my.

Yesterday, I was contacted by a woman who said she was the great-grandaughter of my mother's father. I'm sure there are more than a few of those around, but this one was interesting because she was descended from the son of a young girl (she was then 16) who gave birth in an unwed mother's home in Indianapolis the same year my mother was born (1911).

My mother's biological father was listed as the father of the boy named Virgil. My mother's name was Virginia (a feminine form of Virgil.) Later on, my mother's (and Virgil's) father would sire a daughter named Helen.

Seems to me he must have been fascinated by Virgil's Aeneid for some reason. Yet something else to find out about. I could make up stories...

Meanwhile it turns out this new cousin has been to Indiana to do research on the mystery-father of her grandfather Virgil, and she says she made discoveries in the state archives she'd like to share.

That'll be fun, and no doubt it will... modify....what I thought I knew about our mutual ancestor.

My my.



Monday, June 19, 2017

Is It Getting Real Yet?

I've been pondering the Grenfell Tower fire in London as possible arson, or a deliberate "let 'em burn" incident.  Once I saw that many/most of the residents and victims were of the Muslim persuasion, I couldn't shake the idea that somehow the fire was revenge for the Manchester incident and the London Bridge incident.

I've seen Teresa May on the teevee stumbling and bumbling through her talking points, points which she repeats by rote no matter what the question is. That says to me she knows something she dare not state. She's too frightened to state it.

Or something.

The Grenfell Tower fire was awful but very evocative too. It reminded me of the World Trade Center fires after the planes hit in 2001; it reminded me, too, of the Odessa Trades Union House massacre in 2014.  Both were deliberate -- and opportunistic.

They were meant to inspire fear and terror, which they did. But they took advantage of weaknesses and unknowns to full effect as well. Did the masterminds of the 9/11 attacks know that the World Trade Center buildings would collapse causing far more damage, death and destruction than if only parts of the buildings had burned but the rest had remained standing? I doubt it. But they knew how to take full advantage of the situation.

The cause of the fire at the Union House in Odessa is pretty well understood; the mob outside was using Molotov cocktails which started a number of small fires inside and outside the building. It is said that those holed up inside also had access to and used Molotov cocktails against the mob outside.

Somehow, it's not exactly clear how, one or more cans or barrels of gasoline or other petroleum in the lobby of the building exploded sending fire up the stairwell, incinerating dozens of people.

The effect of the fire was to shut down the Odessa resistance to the Nazi coup in Kiev. Worked like a charm by taking advantage of fortuitous circumstances. I doubt the mob outside the Trades Union House in Odessa had any idea they would be able to spark such a level of death and destruction inside. But once they did, they made the most of it.

And so it goes.

Which is why I wonder about the Grenfell Tower fire in London. There had been a number of attacks, after all, against soft targets in London and Manchester, leading to several dozen deaths and injuries. These attacks were said to be the work of "ISIS" or whatever the most current iteration of Islamic Terror is. While the death toll and destruction was quite low comparatively speaking, and in each case the perpetrators were dispatched (either self-dispatched or shot by police) the incidents inspired an enormous level of shuddering terror in the British public -- which I assume they were intended to do.

It has become the custom to take revenge after a terrorist attack against targets in the West. But in the case of the recent British attacks, there was no one to take revenge against.

The pent up rage could easily lead to something like the Grenfell Tower fire or to what appears to have been an attack by van on Muslims worshiping in North London last night.

Tit for tat, don't you know?

Of course I don't know that's what's going on, but that's what it feels like.

There have been any number of relatively small scale attacks on Muslims in this country. Some of it is just silly, like the recent March Against Sharia. But some of it is deadly, too -- such as the apparent murder of a Muslim girl in Virginia.

Trump and his minions opened the Pandora's Box of violence against the Designated Others (including Muslims) during the campaign last year, and we are witness to or victims of the consequences. Random acts of violence which had been routine are becoming focused on certain targets.

Nothing quite like that had been common in Britain, though the Brexit campaign had opened a Pandora's Box of violence against the Other there as well. Thus, something like the attacks we've seen -- tit for tat in a way -- was almost inevitable, and so was something like the Grenfell Tower fire (even if it wasn't deliberate.)

This sequence of violence is far from over. I see no desire among Our Rulers to end it in any case. What they want, of course, is protection for themselves. The rest of us, as far as they're concerned, can disappear tomorrow and they wouldn't care.

Is it getting real yet?

More to come, no doubt.

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Do We Need A Regent?

The Queen and Prince  William and Jeremy Corbyn all visited warmly with the Grenfell Fire survivors in London.  Teresa May went hop and skip to visit with the first responders on Thursday -- avoiding the survivors like the plague they are -- and on Friday made a non-public appearance at one of the shelters for the Grenfell evacuees which she scuttled out of promptly to the jeers and catcalls from protesters and survivors in the street. "Coward! Murderer!"

Well.

I bring this up to show the completely different approach to calamity displayed by those who hold power (such as May, Trump, et al) and those who show simple human decency in the face of calamity (Corbyn, The Queen, are there any American examples under the age of 90?)

As Trump continues to stumble badly in his role as president, he seems to revel in hurting people as much as he can with as limited powers as he has. And ignore pretty much everyone else. This appears to align well with Teresa May's conservative position in the UK. One has power, apparently, so as to cause harm to or ignore the many while protecting and defending the few.

The assertion is often made by his defenders that Trump hasn't done anything "bad" so far, so it's "too soon" to criticize him. Of course, it's horseshit and has been nothing but that since the defense was offered during the campaign.

The idea is that he doesn't have a history. Somehow he sprang from Zeus's brow apparently, with no past to point to. His gangster behavior in real estate is forgotten, just like his behavior as a tv host. The fact that he's been in the public eye for decades, and has a long and inglorious record of misbehavior was simply erased.

And nothing he's done really matters, you see, because he hasn't triggered a nuclear war with Russia -- which Mrs. Clinton still longs to do.

That millions of Americans in immigrant communities are facing greater and greater levels of terror tactics from ICE doesn't matter because it isn't nuclear war with Russia. That tens of millions of civilians are under threat in the expanding war zones overseas and tens of thousands have been killed since Himself's installation doesn't matter because it isn't nuclear war with Russia. And so on and so on and so on. That he's literally turned over military policy and strategy to the Generals should put the fear in his believers, but it doesn't because it hasn't (yet) triggered nuclear war with Russia.

To the extent there is a functioning Trump Administration, it's a mess. That's considered a bonus by his defenders because it "breaks the rice bowls" of the status quo. As long as the "Clintonites" are punished, anything goes it seems. After all, it isn't nuclear war with Russia.

Except the Empire, the American Empire, and its government can't operate like this, not for long anyway, without shattering to pieces. This too is considered a bonus by some of Trump's defenders who want more than anything for the Empire to disappear. Well, I'm not a fan of the Empire, either, but this kind of perpetual chaos is not the way to end it.

Observers of the mess have started to campaign for a Regency. A Wise Man or a Committee of Eminence to "help" Trump to govern "correctly." Or to govern in his stead should need arise. Something like, oh I don't know, Cheney was to Bush Junior.

Or GHW Bush was to Reagan. Or George IV was to his father Mad King George III. And so on.

A Regent is to the side of the Emperor (or king or president or ruler of your choice) under a regency, and is not necessarily directly in line to the Throne at all. A regent can literally be anyone who is respected and who can be counted on to exercise the powers and authorities of rule responsibly on behalf of the nation, empire or what have you.

The key term is "responsibly" -- which Trump has shown himself to be incapable of, necessitating corps of fixers to come in and clean up yet another mess he's made of things.

You can't run a government like this, let alone an empire.

Some time ago I asked whether we need an Emperor, someone above the president, to deal with the important matters that the Presidency was never intended to.

Or -- as we see under Trump -- can't.

An Emperor would be more in line with the course of devolution our government has been on for quite some time now. Much as Augustus "restored" the Republic while ruling from Above it, an Emperor might "restore" missing or abandoned elements of the American republic while effectively ruling as a benevolent autocrat.

Of course, whether regent or emperor, there is no such position in our current form of government. Regents of sorts have functioned on behalf of or in place of presidents, but never so far has there been someone in a position above the president -- at least not openly.

Is it time?

Friday, June 16, 2017

It Was Fifty Years Ago Today...

My oh my. How time flies.

Monterey International Pop Festival Poster
June 16, 17,18, 1967
I actually don't remember how we got there or exactly when we left the Central Valley for the Coast, but I do remember arriving in Monterey in the late afternoon and checking into a motel (the name of which I don't recall) a short distance from the fairgrounds where the festival would be held. There were four of us, I think: myself and soon-to-be Ms. Ché and Rick and Jackie. That's my memory, but Rick and Jackie may have had their own room. Rick (changed the spelling to Ric ) became one of the more notorious members of the Cockettes (performing as ?? Maxine??) in San Francisco. I don't know what happened with Jackie.

We had tickets for some of the performances, either afternoon or evening. Friday was evening only; Saturday and Sunday were afternoon and evening shows.

The line up was stunning.

Faulty though my memory has become, I think we had tickets for Friday evening, Saturday afternoon and evening and Sunday evening, but we didn't go to the Saturday afternoon show, or possibly we didn't have tickets for Saturday afternoon but listened to it outside the venue.

I recall we spent quite a lot of time on the fairgrounds in the daytime enjoying the people and the booths, and the smells of incense and patchouli and marijuana, and it was probably Saturday afternoon because I don't remember seeing Country Joe and the Fish, Canned Heat, Steve Miller, Quicksilver and the other performers (including Janis and Big Brother) that afternoon. I remember hearing them, though.

Of course when the movie came out, memories got even more confused. Because I remember the movie performance of Big Brother in the afternoon, but my memory of seeing them perform was in the evening. Janis and a whole lot more.

We had box seats for some shows, seats on the flat arena floor for others. The venue was the Monterey County Fairgrounds rodeo arena, also used for the Monterey Jazz Festival and other events throughout the year.

I remember it was cold outside most of the time, and foggy much of the time. Drippy. There wasn't anywhere to escape the wet. So you just went with it.

About 25,000 attended over the three days of the festival. It was a lot of people but it wasn't too many, not even close to too many. We never felt too crowded, and everybody was mellow including the sheriff's deputies manning the fairgrounds and directing traffic and so on. In fact, they were so mellow we wondered if they were enjoying certain substances with much of the crowd.

I don't remember acid, though Rick may have had some. Marijuana, however, was pervasive, and it may have been there that I first indulged. I'm not sure. Marijuana has never agreed with me -- raging headaches and puts me to sleep -- so I rarely indulged back then, and haven't at all for decades.

Rick was tripping most of the time so I imagine he had dropped acid, but I didn't know him well, so I couldn't tell for sure, and we rarely saw him during performances. I think he was backstage for a while, but he was with us during Jimmy Hendrix and The Who. Jackie was with us pretty much the whole time, but I didn't know her well either. They were friends of Ms Ché's but I'm not sure how they and she had hooked up.

Ms. Ché had long been involved with teen bands in the Valley, so I assume that's how they and she got together.

At the time, I looked something like one of the members of a British duo, tall, thin, longish reddish hair, glasses, vaguely hippie-ish garb, mostly castoffs and thrift-store finds thrown together. I remember I had a navy pea coat and a green woolen Eisenhower jacket. Suede boots. Flowered shirt and a bright blue one. A cream-colored knitted turtleneck.

We had no money at all. How we afforded this adventure, I have no idea. At the time, we didn't have a car, so I think we must have ridden with Rick and Jackie, and it may have been Jackie's car, come to think of it. I don't think it was a GTO but it may have been a Pontiac Le Mans, 1964? Maybe. I don't remember.

But we had a motel room for all three days, and the fairgrounds were within walking distance. I think we ate at a nearby Sambo's a time or two. Again, where we got the money, I don't know. But we had enough for food and gas and lodging; we'd bought the tickets well in advance.

When we left on Monday morning, we went to San Francisco and dropped Rick off in the Haight and then headed back to the Valley. We'd go to San Francisco as often as we could and even took to flying down to Los Angeles now and then on the $19 PSA flights to see shows or visit with friends.

This pattern went on throughout the Summer of Love, and though I don't think we were hippies or wanted to be, we were definitely counterculture in that we were living far less materialistically than we'd been brought up to be, and we were living simply compared to most of those we knew and our families. Focus was on music and people and finding new answers to old problems.

Through various steps and travels it led us eventually to New Mexico -- where we might have gone long before, but we didn't -- where a remnant of the counterculture remains, much as it does in enclaves all over the country. Some of it is very stupid and stupefying. Yet some of it is deeply rooted and fundamental. There is a tendency to want to throw it all out and start over. But you know what? There always was.

Onward.

[Pennebaker has blocked most of the clips from his film of Monterey Pop from YouTube and the other video sites, but a restored version of the film will be shown in Santa Fe next month. We'll probably go -- if our health permits.

Highlights  of the Festival for us included Janis Joplin with Big Brother, The Who, the Animals, Simon and Garfunkel, Jefferson Airplane, Moby Grape, Mamas and Papas, Buffalo Springfield, the Byrds, Hugh Masakela, and some I don't remember. Eg: I barely remember the Dead at all... so it goes...]



Wednesday, June 14, 2017

One of the Very Few Times ...

...that the High and Mighty have been targeted by the American Lone Gunman happened in Alexandria, VA, this morning at a softball practice involving congress members and staff.

Details are sketchy -- to say the least -- but apparently one congressman was wounded (Steve Scalise) as well as a couple of cops on protective duty. The suspect is said to be in custody.

Some wag said, "Well, he must be white then."

This wouldn't be the first time a congressmember was shot and wounded by the Lone Gunman, and it will be interesting to see what kind of outrage emerges from this one. Gabby Giffords was shot and critically wounded in 2011 and had to leave congress on account of her injuries, but all the outrage her shooting provoked had zero effect on her former colleagues who rather ostentatiously and arrogantly refused to consider legislation that might further restrict access to firearms for people with mental illness. As I recall -- but my memory is failing -- congress actually passed legislation easing access to guns in the wake of Gabby Giffords' shooting.

How much bigger a "Fuck you!" could they have engineered?

Shootings by these Lone Gunmen are commonplace, of course, but they almost never target people with money or power. That's why the Giffords shooting was so odd. Today's incident is also odd.

Ah, but  we've been in this chaotic matrix for some time now, and these sorts of oddities are bound to become more and more common. The question is not whether they will happen -- they will -- but rather what the response of the Powers That Be will be.

If as I suspect the shooting today can be labeled "terrorism" -- even better if the shooter is brown, black, or Muslim(!) or better still a "damn dirty librul"*-- then we will see a prompt response from Power and Authority to tighten the ratchet on all sorts of irritating people and behavior.

This isn't a Reichstag Fire type incident, but given the hysterics of Our Rulers (well, some of them) over the Terrorist Threat (to themselves, of course, they don't give a shit about the rest of us) the reaction is liable to be similar.

As if we didn't have enough of that already.

It's the world we live in.

Gak.

UPDATE: * And so, here we are:
His Twitter profile shows that Hodgkinson is a left-wing supporter of Bernie Sanders who has also posted several memes on his Facebook page critical of President Donald Trump. He also called Georgia Republican congressional candidate Karen Handel a “b*tch” for saying she didn’t support a living wage during a debate with Democratic rival Jon Ossoff.
http://www.rawstory.com/2017/06/gop-baseball-practice-shooter-identified-as-66-year-old-james-t-hodgkinson/

Sunday, June 11, 2017

The Swallows Return



We've had swallows nesting under the front porch eaves for almost as long as we've had this old house out in the Wilderness of Central New Mexico.

Except last year, they didn't come back, and the year before that, they abandoned the nest before the chicks were fledged. And the year before that a mean boy who lived in the 'wild house' across the street came over when we weren't here and smashed one of the nests...

This year, however, two pairs of swallows came to investigate the property right around the first of June, and one pair set up housekeeping in the one surviving nest, even adding some skunk hair to the decor.

They're wary of the cats, of course. The cats love to sit on the table by the St. Francis statue near the front door and watch the swallows hungrily. They never know when they might get lucky, and this year, they've been very lucky indeed with the many doves that congregate here and nearby. The other birds, though, stay very well away from the cats and so far we've only found a couple of sparrow babies (probably fell out of the nest) and one yellow-breasted young bird (don't know what kind) among the cats' bird catch.

People say that feral cats devastate bird populations, but I don't think it's true. We've had a feral cat colony here for over a decade, and this is the first year I can recall that between them they've caught more than five or six birds. The birds aren't dumb, for one thing (you should see the grackles tease and mock stalking cats) and for another, there's balance that gets worked out every year. This year the doves have more casualties than I can remember, and not just from the cats. Something is going on in dove-land to control the population, for even with casualties, there seem to be more doves than ever.

This year, because there's been a lot of spring rain, all the birds seem to be flourishing. We have a bird-bath outside our kitchen window, and the variety of birds that come to drink and bathe is astonishing. They keep an eye out for cats, but they love the water, too.

We're happy to have the swallows back. Here's hoping they stick with the job of raising a family. It's been a while.

Meanwhile, we gave away the first lot of Cherokee Purple tomato plants at the Cherokee meeting in Albuquerque. Sixteen plants, raised from seed, the first time I've tried growing tomatoes from seed in New Mexico. They seem to be doing well.


We have dozens and dozens more plants in various stages of growth, most of them slated to be given away to neighbors and friends over the next couple of weeks.

This was a project I decided I needed to do to counter some of the consequences of my condition as it were. There wasn't a lot I could physically do because of pain and other issues, but growing some tomatoes seemed like something I could do, had to do.

So here we are, starting to give them away, and I feel good.

The swallows are back, the tomatoes are doing well, and there are big smiles on the faces of those who receive the plants. Life is good in so many ways. Let's not forget that.

Thursday, June 8, 2017

On Falling

Every time I visit the doctor -- lately several times a month -- I'm asked whether I've fallen in the last 90 days, and I've always said "No". Next time I will have to say "Yes," because the day before yesterday, I had a bad fall, and this morning, I can barely walk (though I think that's a consequence of an RA flare coming on as well as any lingering effects of the fall itself.)

It happened this way: Ms. Ché and I were talking the afternoon away in the house when I thunderstorm came up the way they've been doing almost every afternoon for weeks now. No big deal. Ms Ché got up to let a cat in and casually remarked, "Oh look, it's hailing!."

I said "Oh shit!" and got up. "The tomatoes!" We needed to cover them fast or they could be destroyed. One year, the hail pretty much destroyed everyone's tomatoes in the area. Our friend across the highway had a wonderful crop on the way; the hail not only destroyed her plants, it ruined all but a few of the tomatoes on the plants.

That year our plants were damaged but survived. The crop was minuscule, but at least there were a few.

This year's plants are still very young and quite fragile. They'e Cherokee Purple grown from seed, and we have way more plants than I thought would come through the various disasters of trying to grow tomatoes from seed at this altitude. Close to 100 plants at the moment are in various stages  of growth, and some have been transplanted to containers scattered around the place and are growing well.

Hail, though, could mean the end of many of them. So we raced to get as many as we could under cover. As we did, the hail came down stronger and stronger, and as I headed back to the house get more covering, I tripped on a wire -- actually a section of chicken wire laid on the ground to keep the cats from using a patch of lawn as a toilet.

BAM! I fell hard on the gravel -- the rough gravel we use for some pathways -- on my knees, and the pain was amazing. I thought I had broken both knees. Ms Ché saw me down and hollering in pain, while the hail storm intensified. Oh doG, what to do now?

I asked her if she could help me get up, but that didn't work, so I sat there in pain while the hail pelted the both of us and we became soaked to the skin. I couldn't get up on my own, and I was pretty much convinced that at least one knee was shot, if not broken. After sitting there for a while, I asked Ms. Ché to bring over a couple of milk crates that we use to transport things around the place. She did, and with some effort, I was able to hoist my bottom onto the crates, and once there, I was able to slowly and gingerly get myself into an upright position -- with the help of a walker that Ms Ché brought from the studio.

Now what? Could I walk? I didn't know. But I tried one foot in front of the other and sure  enough I was able to shuffle through the hail to the back door and make it up the steps and into the house. Whoo-hoo!

The pain in my knees was pretty bad, though, and slowly, I peeled out of my soaked duds. Both legs were pretty banged up from knee to ankle, the left one much more so than the right one. The left knee was quite bloody, and it looked like I'd done more than scrape the skin. I asked Ms Ché if she had any Bactine, and by golly she did. We sprayed it on the wounds.

And I sat for twenty minutes or so in my damp underwear, catching my breath and trying not to get overwrought.

Not a pretty picture.

Ms Ché was soaked, too, of course, but she tried to take it all in stride. I said, "Get into some dry things, I'll be all right." She went off to find something dry to put on while I continued to sit and contemplate my wounds. Apart from the scrapes and what looked like a broad puncture from a piece of gravel, it didn't look too bad, and because I could still bend my knees -- carefully -- I figured nothing was broken. I got up and...walked... ha ha... to the bedroom to find some dry clothes, and Ms Ché and I chatted about what had happened as she re-dressed in dry things. Well, you know, it was just one of those things.

She was worried that I shouldn't be walking, but I said I better figure out how lame I was, and see if we could deal with the wounds as best we could. Some Neosporin and bandages should be enough.

So over the next hour or so, we sorted out our various conditions. Ms Ché wasn't injured in the incident, but she's dealing with leg and foot issues of her own thanks to diabetes and an outbreak of psoriasis that makes her have difficulty with her own mobility. The stress of this incident didn't help at all, but she's developed some remarkable strategies to get and keep going no matter what.

I'm not nearly as good at it, but nevertheless, I didn't want to make too much of falling, but I wanted to make the best of it, no matter.

After an hour or so, I was pretty well bandaged up and recovered enough to go out and check the tomatoes. The hail had stopped and it was barely raining.

We only got the plants in the side yard covered. Those on the north side of the house were on their own.

I noted there was a bit of damage here and there, but nothing too serious. It looked like most of the plants would pull through just fine. Whew!

And I could walk. Pain was still pretty bad, but I could walk and get myself up and down steps, so that was good.

By bedtime I was afraid I wouldn't be able to sleep because of the pain. I'd taken a couple of Aleve, though, and the pain was fading. I slept fine. Got up the next morning and was nearly pain free. Wow.

Took it easy yesterday just the same.

But last night when I headed to bed, I felt more pain in my knees, and this morning, I woke up in severe pain -- both knees and ankles. I could barely walk at all. Oh.

I attribute most of it to a developing RA flare. It's been more than two weeks since the Rituxan infusion, and I've had no joint pain or flare. Doctor says, however, I most likely will continue to have flares for at least another month. I took a couple of Aleve which has moderated some of the pain, so I suspect that not all of what I'm feeling is RA related.

We'll see. Today we were planning an expedition to Santa Fe to explore the "Counterculture" exhibit at the history museum. I think we'll have to pass.

So it goes...

UPDATE: By yesterday afternoon, all of the pain was gone, and I could walk without difficulty, though both legs were still stiff and sore from the fall.

I emailed my rheumatologist about it asking whether the absence of pain after what seemed like the start of an RA flare was a sign that the Rituxan was starting to work. It's been a month since the first infusion and she's said that it generally takes six weeks to two months for Rituxan to have measurable effects on RA.

No word back yet.

UPDATE 2:

Got word from my rheumatatologist that it's possible for Rituxan to work within a month though it is rare. The situation as I reported it suggests that in fact the infusions may be working. I need to keep monitoring symptoms and response. And not fall down!

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

As The Russia Thing Metastasizes

I've never made much of the Russia Thing because it has always struck me as a stupid and very marginal effort -- to the extent it was an effort at all -- to affect the US elections. I'm sure that some of it had a slight effect here and there, but for the most part, it seems to have been more of an exploratory expedition than anything else.

It was mostly a propaganda effort that salted the internet with both real and fake "information" primarily about Clinton and her corruption and nastiness. There were other elements, of course, but dissing Clinton and the "Democrat" Party apparat appeared to be the primary objective along with seeding Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt (FUD) about the validity of the election itself (on the assumption, of course, that Clinton would win, and therefore the election must have been rigged, right?)

One of the biggest items in the anti-Clinton kit bag was the  absolute certainty that if she won, she would start WWIII by attacking Russia. This would lead to nuclear annihilation, no doubt about it.

Many people still believe it with utter certainty though there has never been the slightest evidence that it is/was true. In fact the evidence points in the opposite direction, and if anybody had critical thinking skills anymore, they'd realize that if Clinton was expected to win by everyone in the wholewide world, then the likelihood of nuclear war with Russia was judged to be slim to none by... nearly everyone. Despite all the certainty of the hoo-hah.

Nevertheless, Russian involvement in spreading  anti-Clinton propaganda and memes should not have been an issue. In other words, so what? The domestic political propaganda industry is quite capable of coming up with endless falsehood, lies, fabrications, and satire about candidates. They are experts at oppo-research, and yes, they'll use or make up anything at all to destroy the other candidate. It's politics, it's the way it's been done in this country for practically ever. Russian or any other foreign participation shouldn't matter.

But apparently we are to launch into a phase where the Russia Thing is to become All Important, as important as Watergate. So they say.

Of course back in the day, Watergate wasn't intrinsically that important at all. The break-in was dastardly and illegal to be sure, but given its political nature, it hardly mattered in the vast eternal scheme, and at first few had much interest in it. It metastasized, however, once it became clear that the White House was intent on covering up the fundamental fact of White House and Presidential involvement. Of course there was also WaPo publisher Katherine Graham's vendetta against Nixon, precisely why we don't know.

That sort of thing seems to be taking place again, and tomorrow's testimony by James Comey is supposed to blow the whole thing "wide open". Expectation managers have put a whole lot on the Comey testimony, and I think they're in for a disappointment.

That aside, however, the permanent government (aka "Deep State") seems to believe that the Russia Thing will lead to the legal removal of Trump from office, whether or not "collusion" took place or is proven. Because, after all, Americans hate Russians, particularly Putin the Devil, right? And legally, it's the hatred of Americans that drives Presidents from office, right?

It's not so much what Trump has done in and out of office that will do him in, oh no. It's the Russia Thing -- and only the Russia Thing and how much hatred for Putin can be whipped up -- that matters.

I'm dismayed.

This won't end well, of course, but in the meantime, the obsession with Russia serves as a distraction from whatever is really going on.

I've said it before, Trump is the apotheosis of the neoLibCon paradigm. It will survive and flourish no matter what happens to Trump and his gang of thieves. The idea that Trump is not one of them, and that Trump will bring it all crashing down is fantasy more than reality. Yes he's a gangster and a conman and a buffoon and a liar and an abuser. Yes? So are most of the members of his class and so are most of those most fully aligned with the neoLibCon paradigm.

Gee.

Getting rid of Trump is getting rid of the Googly-Moogly, the Boogey-Man. Not at all getting rid of what he and his kind represent or want to do.

Basing his removal on the Russia Thing is idiotic. And doing it to enable Pence to ascend to the Throne is sick.

So here we are.

Tomorrow is another day...




Monday, June 5, 2017

Two Weeks

Well.

It's been two weeks since my second infusion of Rituxan, and who'd a thunk? No pain. Well, almost no pain. Occasional twinges, yes. Momentary annoyances. Difficult mornings getting going. But nothing like the situation just a few weeks ago when I dreaded weekends because I would almost certainly start a flare on Friday which wouldn't fade away until the following Wednesday.

I would be lucky to have one or two "good days" a week. Yikes.

But now? I'm far from a cure -- in fact, they say there isn't one-- but it is possible I could go into remission (with medication), and if I do, I'll probably need infusions every six months for some time to come. But for now, I'm grateful to be almost completely pain free, even if it's only temporary.

During all this RA business -- been going on for two years now (longer when I think back to early symptoms) -- I've had no pain relief medication (except what I had on hand from previous sciatica episodes).

I thought it was odd that no matter how much pain I was in my doctors never prescribed pain medication of any kind. At one point, early on, I was self medicating with Aleve which initially provided some relief, then it didn't. I increased the dosage again and again, until I was up to 1600mg a day or maybe more, and still very little or no relief. Doctor said, "Whoa! Stop! That's too much!"

Well, what will you give me for pain relief? Eh?

The answer was steroids. Prednisone (which I tolerate pretty well; some people don't).  High doses tapering off to low doses. A maintenance dose until other medications kick in.

No specific pain medications at all.

The other medications might work for a time -- a few weeks or months -- but then not. I went through a half dozen or more meds trying this and that (I didn't keep track) to see what worked. Nothing did for long.

At one point, three-four months ago, I had tapered the prednisone to 7.5mg a day, the lowest dose I'd taken for over a year. That's when things started going haywire, and I was facing weekly flares. Doctor said increase prednisone dosage: I took up to 40mg a day with only partial effectiveness. This went on for months. The only relief offered was higher doses of prednisone, and when I pointed out even that wasn't working, it dawned on my rheumatologist that something else was called for at least as a bridge until the Rituxan could work.

And so, for the first time in years, I was prescribed an opioid (Tylenol 3) -- which I haven't had to take due to the apparent effectiveness of the second Rituxan infusion. If I do have a flare, however, and the Tylenol 3 doesn't work, doctor is prepared to prescribe (drum roll) Oxycontin.

She also prescribed a stronger version of prednisone in case of otherwise uncontrolled flares.

So far, however, I haven't had to take either one.

Whoo.

I know there is currently a hysteria over opioid addiction among lower class whites, largely due -- they say -- to overprescription of pain relievers among the Lower Orders. So there are any number of restrictions on doctor prescriptions, and I had to jump through all kinds of hoops to get what I got.

And I haven't taken it. I haven't even opened the package.

If the Rituxan works, I won't, either.

I will keep it on hand, however, just in case.

You know what? Chronic pain is a terrible and debilitating thing. I've experienced my share, and I know others who have had it much worse than me. Doctors face a serious problem in prescribing for pain relief -- except, apparently, in certain ruralish white enclaves where anything goes -- because of the opioid hysterics.

I assume that's why nothing was provided to me specifically for pain relief for years.

Of course, if you're among the High and the Mighty, there are no problems at all in getting what you need to control your pain -- or anything else.

None at all.

So...

We'll see how this goes.

So far, so good.


Sunday, June 4, 2017

Doing the Wrong Thing

Doing the wrong thing seems to be the way of our governing class, and that includes Trump. That he continues to be lauded and supported at all is interesting, "clarifying" you might say, because it shows up his prime supporters for who they are: nihilists, racists, reactionaries and would-be revolutionaries if they only had some courage. But they don't. They're cowards looking to lord it over someone, somehow, preferably by divine right.  IE: delegation by the God Emperor.

That's what they are supporting him for. They are hoping that he will assume the Purple and finally Rule once and for all as he should, from the Throne, brooking no opposition, giving no quarter to his enemies, enforcing obedience with whatever violence the situation requires.

Doing the wrong thing, indeed.

Except that's what his supporters and defenders want.

Enough of the business of politics. Enough with listening to the losers. Enough with mollycoddling the snowflakes. Enough with the Clintonites.

Time to put a final nail in the coffin of the Democrat (sic) Party.

Destroy! Destroy! Destroy!

They revel in every wrong move from On High.

Withdrawing from the Paris Accords (which apparently is a symbolic thing, but I'll get to that eventually) thrilled them. Of course it's been pointed out that the United States is now the only nation on earth that doesn't support the aims and goals of the Accords to deal with climate change as a common cause among peoples and nations. The two other nations that have not agreed to the Accords, Nicaragua and Syria, have their reasons -- Nicaragua because they didn't go far enough and Syria because the Assad regime was not allowed to represent the nation at the negotiations and thus no one was empowered to agree to the Accords for Syria.

The reason for Trump's withdrawal: Selfish, pissy, "nyah, nyah" to the rest of the world. That's about all. And that's what thrills his supporters and defenders. "Sticking it" to whomever is their prime objective. Sticking it, essentially, to anyone and everyone who disputes or disagrees  with their chosen Ultra-Alpha.

Many have claimed that Trump intends to destroy the ruling neoLibCon paradigm, freeing us and the world from its horrors. No, I think not, and I have argued that instead, Trump intends to consolidate it and impose it far more thoroughly and harshly than it has been heretofore (the example of Greece under the neoLibCon thumb is instructive). We see every indication of it in his budgets, statements, and actions, but his supposedly "progressive" supporters especially let them pass as if they were angel's wings, nothing to be alarmed at. Nothing at all.

It's more of doing the wrong thing. Sometimes in hopes that eventually the Right Thing will emerge and whatever horrors arise in the interim --oh well. Christian Martyrs, you know. Can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs. Eggs are losers. Too bad so sad.

In addition to doing away with politics, they seem to want to do away with the bulk of human population, disposing of practically everyone who is... well, let's be honest.. not white enough.

"Overpopulation" is a constant theme with them. The answer is disposal. They celebrate climate change because it will eliminate a shit ton of brown people. Whoo-hoo!

So of course Trump's withdrawal from Paris would be seen in a positive light.

The problem is that our less radical neoLibCon rulers are intent on doing the wrong thing too. Only less short term destructively. It's amazing.

There is really no one at all among the elites of governing, business, or finance who sees doing the right thing for the masses and the rabble as important or necessary. No one.

We cannot rely on them to do what should be and needs to be done.

There is only one way to solve a governing crisis of this magnitude. The upcoming elections in Britain may give a clue, but I suspect the results will be disappointing given the recent attacks in London and Manchester. We'll see.

At some point, the People, the Masses, the Rabble have to put the fear in the governing classes, particularly those in the Trump camp, but not solely them. So far, the Rabble has not been able to do it, not consistently and effectively at any rate, and it is partially because the Rabble are divided, almost atomized, and do not see a common interest with one another --unless of course it is to "stick it" to some other element of the Lower Orders.

There is no agreement about what Doing the Right Thing entails.

And so it goes.

The devolution will continue.



Thursday, June 1, 2017

It's How They Know Their Own

[Side note: it's been well over a week since I had the second infusion treatment with Ritrxan, and so far, knock my wooden head, I have not experienced a flare or even any pain to speak of associated with RA. I'm astonished and pleased. Let's see if this lasts.)

I've been seeing signs of consolidation of the White Rightist cohorts among us. I try not to follow it too closely because it is genuinely toxic to living things, but they seem to have an extensive and spreading presence online -- probably always been there but I didn't notice -- and a  genuine belief that "now is our hour."

Hm.

Of course we've known for a long time that the State will crush any perceived threat from the (so-called) Left with extreme prejudice. We've seen it happen over and over, two recent examples being the Occupy movement and the NoDAPL actions in North Dakota.

The violence inherent in the system was on full display -- as a means of educating the masses to know and stay in Their Place, subservient and obedient to their Betters.

But we note with interest that no such violent repression of white rightist/supremacist agitation takes place. Bluntly, the State tends to molly-coddle white rightists, most clearly apparent during the arrest of Dylan Roof in Carolina (which one, I forget at the moment), for the murder of so many black Bible students at the Mother Emmanuel Church. The police treated him with kid gloves and took him to Burger King because he was hungry.

That's the way it goes. It''s one way we know where we are, and who is important to the Powers That Be.

What I've noticed recently (well, since before the election) is a significant uptick in white rightist propaganda and violent rhetoric, not solely online but penetrating the mainstream news media as well.

I guess I'm lucky to live in a rural area that voted for Trump overwhelmingly (something like 70%) but which so far mostly rejects as ridiculous the white-rightist thrust of Trumpism. An exception down the road about ten miles (in Santa Fe County, for criminy sakes) is a cracker household that proudly flies the Stars and Bars (multiple examples fluttering in the wind beside the interstate) and appears to be trying to recruit more of its ilk to The Cause.

So special.

Of course flying the Stars and Bars is one way these people can know their own. For a few days before the election, some dude flying a huge Stars and Bars flag from the back of his pick up was frequenting a local park -- maybe to recruit, I don't know-- but he disappeared fairly quickly, and I doubt he found much support.

A rallying cry for many white rightists seems to be "You will not replace us," perhaps a co-optation of "He will not divide us" that was frequently heard among anti-Trumpists  (particularly among those participating in Shia LeBeouf's project).

Other means of knowing their own include incessant references to "globalists," "Clintonites," "Snowflakes" and mockery of "identity politics," "safe spaces" and other "liberal" ideas primarily confined to the academic realm.

While I think it is stupid, it is surprisingly effective. Or maybe not so surprising. They are by no means a majority, far from it -- except in certain regional enclaves. (The irony being their belief that their enemies -- all "he" live only in coastal enclaves.)

They get their news -- such as it is -- from Fox, Breitbart, Stormfront, the Red Elephants and the like.
They believe a wide range of falsehoods and seem to be especially frightened of the Clintonites who rule the world, mostly through their tentacles in academia and the Deep State.

They may have a point about some of what they fear, but they have no answers except paranoia and more and more frequently murder.

Is this what we're coming to?

Looks like it.