Looking for a brighter day

In the run-up to overturning Roe v. Wade, SCOTUS dropped three decisions this week tossing out the separation of church and state, changing Miranda "rights" to Miranda "suggestions" and striking down a state (New York) law restricting the issuing of concealed carry permits. This is the apotheosis of Mitch McConnell’s manipulation of Senate rules to refuse to consider a nomination in the last year of Barack Obama’s second term while ramming through three Christo-fascist appointments (including one the month before the 2020 election) under the Kleptocrat.

I want to scream my lungs out.

And I think the appropriate musical piece for today is Gil Scott-Heron’s 1970 “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”. Even though, in listening to it again, I know that the revolution may not be televised, but there will indeed be videos of the pigs shooting brothers in the streets—and 18-year-old white supremacists raking crowds with automatic fire in the streets, churches, schools, theatres and everywhere else—on social media, as cable and broadcast “news” organizations frantically try to acquire rights to the footage “with credit”. Nixon, Mitchell, Agnew and Abrams have been replaced by Trump, Barr, Pence and Flynn, but the crimes are all the same and there’s infinitely more money swirling around in the background.

Dunno what happened to Xerox and not sure how much Coke it would take these days to make things go better. Well, how much Coca-Cola. Now it would be Kim Kardashian blowing her nose, not Jackie Onassis. No idea who would write the theme song, but Kid Rock would sing it.

And I want to scream my lungs out.

 

Pull up a chair

On my walk Sunday morning, I came upon this addition to the neighborhood (which was not there on Saturday):

Later in the day, someone had rearranged the heart and plastic bag of little plastic things, but otherwise left it.

It was gone yesterday afternoon, after we had a bit of a rainstorm. Dunno about the timing of the removal.

 

 

 

Palais de pretension

I was driving through Great Falls a while ago and saw what passes for development in the horse property district.

(Great Falls is where I think Fairfax County ought to look when they moan about how they need to put more $1M townhouses and 16-story buildings up with $3500/month apartments in the People’s Republic because “we need to accommodate all the low income people moving here.” Slap a few high-rise buildings up along Old Georgetown Pike and let the Republican voters experience a change in density when they trot over to L’Auberge Chez François for din-din.)

Anyway, I can’t recall what used to be here—probably a couple of slightly shabby old places; maybe even some empty acres around a former farm house. I don’t even know that there was an actual street. But I had to pull over to take pix because looky what they got now:

I swear, each of these monstrosities is big enough to be a hotel. Who actually needs that amount of space? 

 

 

 

On the road again

It’s been a while since we’ve had any vanity plates, and I keep collecting them. So have a gander.

Not sure whether this one's a giver or a taker.

Reston proud.

Alumnus of the University of Virginia.

Alum of Stanford (I remember them when their mascot was an Indian, not a cardinal.)

You got a problem wit' dat?

Okay.

Bi-coastal relocation.

Fan of the Seasiders.

From Vermont?

Gratitude Monday: unexpectedly perfect weather

It’s the second half of June here in the District They Call Columbia, and we’ve just had two days of open-your-windows highs in the 70s with no discernible humidity, accompanied by some fresh breezes, and I am joyfully grateful for that.

Right up until Friday, we had a week of switch-to-gills weather, so this is all the more blissful. There is nothing like sitting in your living room with the patio door open, listening to birds singing to clear out the cobwebs in your brain and fill you with gratitude.

So, yay!