The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

Suppose astronomers discovered a meteor out by Pluto with an elliptical orbit that put it on a direct path with Earth. Big flying chunk of space rock aimed right at us with enough mass to obliterate the planet when it hits us and every year the scientists calculated its trajectory and every year were more certain the asteroid was going to hit Earth. What would you want the governments of the planet to do?

One group of scientists propose building a spaceship to intercept the Killer Rock armed with nuclear warheads. Actually they propose building a fleet of these Defense Missiles to insure the meteor is destroyed in case one or more don’t do the job, miss completely or fail to blow it up completely. The price tag is enormous. Sure, building that fleet would create jobs but nowhere near enough to pay for the project. Another group wants to develop lasers to tackle the mission and yet another proposes a strategy to divert the monster meteor away from the Earth.

Many years pass. The government here in the United States studies the problem for a time, but the will to act is not there. Taxes would need to be raised and a publicity campaign mounted to alert our citizenry to the dire consequences of not taking action. If nothing is done, the window of opportunity will be lost. Every year the planet’s scientific community, citing more and more accurate data, begins to assemble a Doomsday Scenario. In twenty years, then fifteen years, then ten, the possibility of deflecting or destroying the threat will be gone. Earth will be hit, possibly destroyed completely, definitely most of the planet will be set back into a dark age. Millions of lives will be lost, starvation will be commonplace, civilization will retreat.

The government of the United States, rather than begin preparations, calls the killer meteor a hoax. Bogus science, the Congress claims. Faux news, the President repeats endlessly. The preparations to build a world defense system, begun before the current Administration, are abandoned. Without our assistance, the plans probably won’t be completed in time. The United Nations issues a report that in ten years we will have reached the point of No Return. Nothing we can do after that will stop the coming impact.

What would you want our government to do? Save increased taxes by doing absolutely nothing? Question the science with a few politically motivated ‘experts’ who claim the data is wrong? Pray for Armageddon so you can ascend to Heaven?

Global Warming won’t wipe out the planet. It will disrupt civilization and it will kill millions of us. Anyone who understands how a greenhouse works in the garden can imagine how an atmosphere can trap heat and keep raising temperatures. There are processes at work that can accelerate the heating and yes, there are seasonal variations that an ‘expert’ can point to as proof that Climate Change is a hoax. If they’re right, we saved a fortune in taxes for ‘solutions’ that weren’t needed. And we saved those coal jobs too, don’t forget. If they’re wrong, we just condemned the planet to a man-made catastrophe.

Right now it looks like America is ready to roll the dice. Kind of a colossal gamble to save a few bucks. I wonder if we’re really that greedy or we’re being sold a bill of goods by those who are.

Well, maybe you’re like a lot of folks, feeling sorry for the accused in sexual harassment cases, upset at the screaming banshee women who point their polished glued-on nails at poor defenseless men. Would-be rapists deserve some sympathy too, I’m sure most of us would agree. Us poor men, misunderstood and falsely accused! And while we’re at it, maybe we should take those lying women and charge them with felony slander. Or better yet, take them out and stone them. That should quiet things down PDQ! I hate to take a page from the Taliban playbook, but hey, they stone women who are defiled and maybe now you can understand why. See, we’re not anti-Muslim, that’s just more hysterical snowflake bullshit.

And while we’re at hashtag affiliations, why not #WhiteMen, #AmericanRacists, #MeBullyToo, #PoliceKillers, #MeRussianHackers, #TalibanTerrorists?? These folks have been the innocent targets of the liberal left mob for far too long. Don’t they know who won the damn election? Don’t they get it that they’re in the wilderness now and we men, we white men, are in charge? Wake up and smell the testosterone!

Meanwhile, let’s get Bill Cosby back on the comedy circuit. We could use a few belly laughs in these dark and polarized times. Date rape jokes by Fat Albert, maybe give him a new TV series,after all, he’s America’s Dad. And for godsake, let’s let Weinstein get back to making movies. Haven’t we got bigger fish to fry in this country than victimizing the accused? I think you and I both know we do. And no, I’m not talking about Russian collusion or fraudulent tax returns. I’m talking about draining that swamp in D.C.. Time to investigate Hillary again for Benghazi crimes!!

The time has come for us white males to fight back! If we let every pissed off woman who spurned our advances label us as rapists and attackers, hellfire, there wouldn’t be anyone left to date. Except ugly bitches. And yeah, we need to stop political correctness too, boys. If they’re ugly, what are we supposed to do, put em on the cover of Vanity Fair and Vogue? Next thing you know they’ll want income parity. And OUR jobs. Yup, we need to stop this thing in its tracks before it gets even crazier. We need to rally for our cause. We need #Him Too!!!

As most of my THC-saturated neighbors here on the South End know, Canada just went green. Marijuana is soon to be legal across the great white north. Little wonder the Trumpster has washed his hands of these hockey loving infidels and put tariffs on them in our ‘national security interests’. They’re a clear and present danger, a hostile, potential invasionary force, a nation of dope huffing, hockey crazed whackos so menacing we probably should build a border wall on our northern flank. The bastards believe in the metric system, for cripesakes, you think that’s not foreign to our American values? Wake up before it’s too late! I don’t want a hockey rink in MY backyard!!

Hopefully this cannabis legalization will serve merely to sedate these Canucks. Eh? But I’m not – and the President certainly isn’t – betting on drugs being the Answer, not when we’ve seen how marijuana has proven to be a gateway drug to liberalism, abortion, anti-gun sentiment and all manner of unspeakable sexual deviance. These tundra dwellers are so stoned right now they can barely negotiate a trade agreement to take the place of NAFTA, what kind of trading partners will they be when the stuff is legal??

Tariffs are only the first phase, believe you me. This Menace must be stopped. If a Wall won’t protect us, we have other options. A First Strike must be kept on the table. Trump should demand Trudeau surrender now. Don’t make us pull the trigger, Canada!! We just want you to be compliant neighbors. Is that so very much to ask? But if you refuse to concede to our demands, no matter how much tar sand oil you promise to deliver to our pipelines, it’s nothing compared to what you’re packing your pipes with. We have drug rehab clinics here that we can provide you. But the first step is to accept you have a Problem. Don’t make you ours.

My patience has been stretched to beyond a mere breaking point this past week, this last month, these two years of Trumpian excess. The moderate Republicans, those folks who might have put the brakes on their party’s slide toward an American style dictatorship, have abandoned ship. Or been forced out by the dark money of the Kochs and their greed-lust ilk thanks to a Supreme Court decision giving citizenship to corporations and hedge funds. The newest unbiased and fair minded justice who was confirmed a few days ago, pled his case on the fair and balanced Fox News, then blasted the senators who dared stand in the way of his ascent to Judicial Stardom. So much for a Court rising above their ideologies. Say goodbye to our quaint notions of justice being blind.

The President, the self-made billionaire who made his money the hard way, by inheriting the wealth he and his siblings fraudulently manipulated to avoid taxes, claims Kavanaugh an innocent man and his accuser a liar. Yesterday he doubled down and chanted at one of his increasingly common political rallies, Lock Her Up, a fevered charge at Sen. Feinstein for opposing his nominee. These are the Times We Live In Now. The gloves are off, the pigs are at the trough, the rich are up on their hind legs bellowing for more tax breaks, more favors, further subsidies, less regulations, all in the name of Making America Great Again.

And out there in the Heartland, the poor folk are buying this drivel. If the United Nations comes out with an alarm warning that the clock is ticking on doing something to slow down the catastrophe of Global Warming, well, how about we take off regulations on coal fired power plants, how about allowing more E-15 corn gas to be sold, why not remove those requirements to increase gas mileage on autos and trucks, let’s support a pipeline to run sand tar oil down to the Gulf, why not drill in the Arctic, it’s all a hoax and lies by the left wingers and the media, all those enemies of the State. You know, the State they hate. Big Government. They don’t trust it and they don’t like it. They don’t like immigrants and they don’t like dark skinned anybody. They’re white and they’re hetero and they’re scared and they’re pissed. They feel cheated and they see a hard future ahead so apparently they’re willing to throw the dice on a morally bereft huckster who fans their flames. If you ever wondered how Germany picked a Fuhrer or Italy chose El Duce, turn on Fox News for a day or three, listen to Rush Limbaugh for an hour or two, follow Breitbart awhile.

And be afraid. We’re Making America something, all right, but if this is what great looks like, you need to be a hedgefund manager.

My hotel here in Salty Lake City is what I’d call, well, sketchy. Maybe it was the twelve paramedics hitting the lobby door 30 seconds after me for an overdose victim that was Clue #1. The guy in line in front of me looked like he would be Clue or Victim #2 and when the desk clerk asked if he had a reservation, he said ‘yeah’ after a lot of thought, but no, he really didn’t and finally he shuffled off. When I got my car parked in front of my room, he and his deadbeat pals were there too, motor running on a beater with temporary license plates.

My room is spacious, two queen beds and two leaks from the flat roofed ceiling where water is running through. Do not think for a minute I would call down and ask for another room that is dry — I’m not that fussy. If I were, I’d have stayed downtown, not here in the DMZ. I’m here to pitch an art project proposal for three state liquor stores in a state notoriously anti-bibulous and pro-biblical. It’s low budget and I’m going low too.

The mizzus asks why I stay in these fleabag flophouses. They’re just places to sleep, I answer. In Japan you can rent a box with a thin mattress — forget the TV and the alarm clock and the crappy print on the wall faded from years of sunlight and dust. And I bet they don’t have water leaking in … unless the guy in the box above is incontinent.

I’ve stayed in worse, just so you don’t think I’m complaining. Once in Hayward, California, two dozen squad cars pulled up and busted down the door of the guy next to me. I was on the floor in case the bullets started to fly. They didn’t. The suspect went peacefully in handcuffs. My favorite was the gentleman in the room next to me who explained without much prompting he’d kill my dog if it messed with his dog and then he’d kill me. Always good to be forewarned, I guess. My dog, Dr. Gonzo, unbeknownst to him, would probably have killed them both. But as you may know, I’m a peaceful man. We all did okay, although I’m guessing by now I’m the last one standing.

Right now there’s a pounding on the door adjacent to mine, kind of insistent and even a tad angry. You’ll have to excuse me, I think I better check this out. Might be something urgent. Stay tuned….

I’m going to confess, right at the outset, that I am not a woman. Most of the time anyway. So maybe I haven’t got the right to weigh in on these Kavanaugh confirmation hearings. And maybe I’m out of line to criticize the President for mocking Christine Blasey Ford at his rallies where the crowd, the same crowd he hollered Lock Her Up Lock Her UP, offered up thunderous support. Dr. Ford was victimized again but maybe I’m not the best person to come to her defense. Or any of the millions of others who were basically assaulted by this bully president.

A lot of the folks at those rallies, I noticed, were women. Well, white women. Okay, they’re entitled to their own opinions and just because Dr. Ford was of their gender doesn’t mean they have to believe her or her accusations. I get that. But it’s seriously troubling to witness them give full throated mockery to her and yeah, I know, I’m a guy so I might consider stepping back on this issue, let the survivors of sexual assaults fight this fight. Pretty obviously they’re on their own. They won’t get any help from this Congress and it looks like, today anyway, they won’t get any from the Supreme Court for years, if not decades, to come. In other words the full weight of the United States government, its constitution, its laws, they’re all bearing down on any woman who dares to accuse her attacker. Obviously America won’t believe her.

And of course I believe everyone should be presumed innocent until proven guilty. Yah, maybe I’m troubled that the FBI investigation was curtailed and obviously circumscribed. You can’t prove someone guilty if you can’t do a proper investigation, but hey, these hearings needed to be expedited apparently and if a thorough investigation would have taken longer, sorry, time’s up. I could argue that this wasn’t a criminal trial and guilt or innocence wasn’t really the goal, that character and veracity were what was on trial. In the end the only thing on trial was Dr. Ford. And of course the senators themselves who brought a criminal prosecutor in as stand-ins for themselves rather than risk seeming, oh, accidentally misogynistic. She put out a report that Ms. Ford’s accusations wouldn’t rise to the level of criminal charges. Of course Ford wasn’t seeking criminal redress. And supposedly this wasn’t a courtroom. Even if the Republicans did bring in a prosecutor.

I know, I’m a guy. Not my fight. Not my place. And today it feels like it’s not my country. If I were a woman, I’d absolutely know it’s not.

So if I assaulted some cheerleader in high school or even college, would it disqualify me for Man of the Year here on the South End? I mean, isn’t there some kind of statute of limitations for youthful crime? And if I was drunk at the time, or stoned out of my head, wouldn’t that help explain my actions and even erase some or all of the guilt? Not saying I did, mind you, not admitting to anything, just wondering out loud here, just asking a philosophic question.

And if Sheila (not her real name, of course) stepped forward after all these years to accuse me (not saying she exists, remember), should I admit to what I did and maybe ask her forgiveness? Or would it be better to deny deny deny the possibility, slim to impossible though it might be, that maybe, just possibly, I was too whacked that lost evening to remember my amorous advances, much less realize they might have been mistaken for rape? Or can we just say what happened that long ago shouldn’t be held against me now, after a life of coaching girls basketball and going to church every Sunday. My friends vouch for my sanctity in the times they have known me, c’mon, isn’t that testimony enough?

Yeah, I feel kinda bad for Sheila (not her real name, maybe not even a real person), cause I can see she might have suffered a little all those years and I wish like hell she’d let bygones be bygones, but geez, she really has held onto this thing, some kind of obsession it looks like to me (although I’m not a psychiatrist or anything) and maybe she took this preoccupation and turned it into a delusion, who knows? Maybe something did happen back then at that party I wasn’t even at and somehow, in her shock and confusion, thought it was me grinding on top of her when actually it was my buddy egging me on, although he claims he wasn’t there either and if he was, he was too smashed to remember that night or really many others back then.

Sure, we drank a few beers, my buddy and me, and we played a few innocent drinking games. Those people who say we drank too much, they forget I went to church every Sunday and I coached girls basketball, but I never drank so much I wouldn’t remember everything I wrote down on my calendar. Check my calendar. There’s no day where I wrote down I tried to rape a Sheila … or any other girl. I was working out, going to football camp, playing Devil’s Triangle (it’s a harmless drinking game!) so anybody can see I didn’t have time to rape a Sheila (which is not her real name), check it out for yourself.

I’m a good guy. I worked my butt off in college. I studied hard and yeah, I drank an occasional beer, I went to church, I have been a pillar of the South End all these years. Why would something that happened, maybe happened, so long ago matter one iota now? We all had some youthful indiscretion, right? Right? We should just forget about that now and move on. And Sheila, whatever your name is, you need to move on too. If you need any help with that, be sure to call me. Or my buddy who you might have mistaken for me. We can be there for you.

That poor man, Kavanaugh, has been put through more than enough, at least according to the Judge himself and his supporter, the great senator from South Carolina. Personally, I’ve been put through enough as well, and unless I miss my guess, you have too. The man is twisting in the wind, as we say down here on the storm-tossed beaches of the South End, a veritable piñata for the #MeTooMovement and half of the country following every columnist, news feed, Facebook troll and Instagram user. The FBI is on the case, at least for one week, no need to take longer, there are senators in a great hurry to rush this thing to the floor and vote for the man with all due haste. The Wheels of Justice grind … well, not slowly in this case and not too fine, but we got an election coming up and the worst scenario for those senators would be to fail to put an obvious partisan ally on the Big Bench, to hell with judicial decorum and fair mindedness. The boyz want a bullet proof Supreme Court and if it costs that institution the respect of an astonished nation, by god, that’s the price.

Whether you believe Judge Kavanaugh’s accuser or him, whether you applauded his histrionics and his counter attacks on what he presumed are HIS accusers, what you will remember is an angry little man willing to vent his rage in front of a national audience, a privileged fellow who can scarcely believe his credibility can be questioned, an entitled kid who apparently never really grew up, a prep school punk who punches at those who dare to ask a probing question. He’s a lot like the man who nominated him, another accused sexual predator immature in outlook and menacing in demeanor. That guy was elected President and if recent history offers any lessons, this one might be confirmed too.

Senator Graham, in his spluttering screed, yelled a red-faced accusation that ‘you people’, meaning his colleagues on the Democratic side of the aisle, ‘would do anything to win.’ The kettle is black said the pot. If memory serves, those same people confirmed Gorsuch awhile back and Graham’s people refused to consider Merrick Garland. Who deserves to be outraged, Lindsay? Certainly not you.

I wish this partisanship would settle down. I wish we had a little respect for the government, the media, the rule of law. But there are people who don’t. They claim the mantle of Populism, they vow to drain the swamp of government, they label legitimate journalism fake news, they trample established decorum and decency and they play a mean and hard ballgame. The Supreme Court, already under some scrutiny for biased opinions, is the newest victim of these folks’ drive to power. Kavanaugh or not, the curtain has been pulled back. Oz is a Lindsay Graham, a mean-to-the-core little man full of sound and fury, signifying not very much, certainly nothing deserving of applause.

These are scary times for young men in America, so sez the Commander-in-Chief after accusations arose on his nominee for the Big Bench for sexual malfeasance in high school and college. If anyone would know, it would be the Big Bopper, a man who never grew beyond the sexual assaults of his youth. Or his middle age. And probably hasn’t yet. But for America’s young men, let us be afraid for them.

Well, okay, I’m not gonna lose sleep worrying. Boys will be boys isn’t going to cut it and if some of my testosterone-overdosed buddies think those indiscretions of their drunken youth justify giving poor Brett Kavanaugh a pass, they need to rethink things. I remember a couple of lab techs I used to work with in my prestigious career as a graveyard orderly at a nearby hospital who’d been warned to leave the nurses alone. They thought it was all a hoot, what harm could it possibly do? This was thirty years before the #MeTooMovement and their women colleagues were fair game as far as they were concerned. I tried talking to them about this attitude after witnessing some shenanigans and all I got was amused smirking. Today they’d be fired, pack up, boys and hit the pavement.

I wonder how many of us males are squirming in our BVD’s watching Kavanaugh raging against the injustice of being pilloried for crimes 3 decades ago. When he was intoxicated, no less. How many feel sympathy because they can imagine themselves in his seat, pants on fire. Sure he’s gotta lie. He sure can’t admit to being a blackout drunk. He sure can’t claim it was all a joke grinding away on that woman with his buddy egging him on. He sure doesn’t think it’s fair to have this adolescent frivolity brought up now that he’s a middle aged judge. And how many of us guys take his side because, well, there but for the grace of God and the statute of limitations go they. A lot, I’m betting.

What I’m really hoping is that a lot of that squirming is out of belated guilt. Maybe Kavanaugh is a mirror now and Dr. Ford’s anguish could be someone they know. Could be that they’re learning a few hard lessons in contrition. But I suspect most are going to side with the Judge. If we can overlook his past, maybe we can let our sleeping dogs lie too. Me, I think Trump, as always, has it backwards. These are scary times for young women in America. Same as they’ve ever been, same as they’ve ever been.

These are, admittedly, strange times in the Social Republic of America. We’re waiting to be great again and this week we’re anticipating the decision regarding whether Brett Kavanaugh should be confirmed to the Big Bench. Partisanship has reached a boiling point judging by the spluttering screed of Sen. Lindsay Graham in a spirited attack on ‘you people’, meaning his colleagues on the other side of the aisle. Kavanaugh shouted a conspiratorial diatribe at everyone from liberals to the Clintons, a sad beginning for what might become this era’s new judicial restraint.

Evidently the playbook now requires undermining the legitimacy of the press, attacking our own government and the government of our allies, ripping up trade treaties and treaties to keep nuclear weapons contained, using the powers of Congress and the President to attack perceived enemies, something we frowned on in the Nixon years but apparently is fine now. What’s really intriguing in these vitriolic times is the President’s embrace of folks like Russia’s Putin and the Philippine’s Duterte, totalitarian strongmen bereft of law and decency, but who Trump nevertheless touts as worthy of emulation. Try to imagine Obama channeling Joseph Stalin. Or George Bush writing Valentine Day cards to Khomeini. You think things aren’t upside down, inside out, think again.

This week Donald fell in love. Not with Melania, not with Ivanka, not with Lindsay Graham (although I think he may have a crush), but with none other than Little Rocket Man, who, sez the Prez, wrote him a wonderful letter, an admiring letter, a letter that was nothing less than a work of art. You want Trump’s respect, praise him. You want his admiration, suck up to him. You want his love, tell him how great a leader he is. He’ll return the favor. You don’t even have to have incriminating evidence of prostitutes pissing on his bed, he’ll return your love.

The man just wants approbation. He wants you to say he’s not just okay, he’s the most okay of anyone, ever, anywhere, anytime. If we had god kings, he would be ours. If we build him a pyramid, he would find it in his heart to forgive us. If we chisel out Lincoln’s ugly visage on Mt. Rushmore and replace it with his, the world would be given to you. If you took out the other three losers and renamed the mountain Mt. Me, no door would ever be closed to you. All he wants is your love. Love is all he needs. In the meantime he has to find it in all the wrong places.