I won't live in fear

A couple of weeks ago I was leaving the tavern of the private golf club in the People’s Republic after having dinner with a friend. Four paunchy, aging White guys were at another table and one of them was regaling his mates with his contempt for a holiday called Juneteenth.

“It’s a federal holiday!” he bellowed, being met with disbelief. “About Emancipation!” brought guffaws.

I quickstepped out of there, because I’m not a member and I don’t have time to bring out sock puppets every bloody time ignorant racists plump up their privilege. That would be a more-than-fulltime job. But imagine thinking it silly to celebrate the news that slavery was outlawed (especially since the United States got around to it years after the other White empires, including the Russian one).

We have so many miles to go.

So let’s get moving for Juneteenth (19 June), with Our Native Daughters singing “I Knew I Could Fly”.

 

Sssss

Some months ago I noticed that my espresso machine leaves interesting designs in the shot glass I use when making my morning latte. So I’ve taken a series of photos of them.

I call it “Coffee Viper”.

 

Pork of the sea?

I cooked some bacon last week for a spinach salad; I cook bacon in my toaster oven rather than frying it. Anyway, when it came out, it looked to me like fish.

What do you think?

 

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Old glory

Today is Flag Day. You may not know this if you are on the sunny side of 50, but it used to be a day for hanging out the old Star Spangled Banner.

But I realized that every time I see a photo of the flag, or hear it mentioned, I wonder what fuckery the latest mob of right-wing whackadoodles are up to. Because that’s where we are: the national symbol has been coopted by the racist ammosexual MEAL Team 6 crowd, cosplaying with their long rifles and grievances, engaging in metaphorical willie-waving on behalf of an orange-sprayed conman who literally humps the flag. And it makes me sick.

So, that’s all I got for today.

 

 

Gratitude Monday: Roll down like waters

I suppose it’s a commentary on the sad state of affairs in this country that my gratitude for today is about the House Select Committee to Investigate the January 6^th Attack on the United States Capitol. That barely 50 years after Watergate we need another congressional investigation into the corruption of a Republican administration that basically told Richard Nixon, “Hold my beer” is unfuckingbelievable. But here we are.

And—being here—I’m grateful that there are some politicians who are willing to follow the evidence and expose the truth to the world, despite the very best (if wildly incompetent) efforts of Republicans to deny, deflect and demean the proceedings.

Two lone Rs joined the committee out of a sense of duty (as opposed to the reps proposed by Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy in an attempt to turn it into a circus). They’ll probably be voted out of office in November for that.

Because that’s where we are, too.

The first hearing, held in prime time Thursday night, was quite the revelation. Second one is today. May their work be thorough, clearly stated and utterly irrefutable. And may the Department of Justice follow up accordingly.