The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

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Trump invited his cabinet today to go around the room and take turns praising the job he’s doing. Each poor schmuck took his or her turn heaping accolades on the President who started the meeting crowing that he had accomplished more in his brief term of office than almost any other president with the possible exception of FDR. And this in less than six months when all the others had had at least four years and some eight. And in the case of FDR, three terms. Forget Mt. Rushmore, this President will get his own mountain.

You got to wonder, are we in a 3rd world dictatorship where fear of execution keeps the lackeys in control? And I have to wonder, what kind of people value their job so much that they’ll jump through the hoops this fruitcake of a Commander-in-Chief sets up for them. Nothing seems too embarrassing, no deed seems too ignoble, no screw-up goes unpraised as high achievement. The world inside the Oval Office is square and the peg fits only with the utmost effort. Black is the new white. Truth is whatever the man thinks it is. The little goof in North Korea pretty much runs his show the same way. Welcome to government by the insane.

We were always told: we too could one day be president of the United States. Well, I never really believed that, but all the kids in my 6th grade Social Studies class would probably be a better Leader of the Free World than this guy in office right now. Okay, maybe not Jimmy Sutton, the kid who used to pick his nose and eat his own snot. Didn’t even try to hide doing it, just dug out a finger full and plopped it into his disgusting little mouth. Course, Jimmy probably has his own tech start-up and makes billions now down in Silicon Valley. Still, I bet he wouldn’t go around the conference table and make his staff take turns regaling the gathered assembly how much they liked snot eaters. Trump, of course, would make them eat his.

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Paul Ryan, head apologist for the President, told reporters that he thought Trump should be given a pass for what appears to be obstruction of justice in the Comey firing. I always thought ignorance of the law was given pretty short shrift in a court of law, but apparently in the GOP Congress, it has legs. Trump, the neophyte Commander-in-Chief who relies on no one’s advice in these matters, pulled Comey aside, asked the others in the room to leave, then told him he hoped he’d drop this Flynn/Russia investigation. When he didn’t, Trump did what he does best, he fired him then demeaned him in the press. Now he’s calling Comey a liar.

Of course we expect new Presidents to GPS their way around D.C. in the rough beginning, learn the ropes, figure out how the swamp is laid out. Maybe in Trump’s case, a couple of years, two terms even. The poor guy. And believe me, he’s not. High crimes and misdemeanors don’t count in Ryan’s rule book. They tried attacking the messenger, Comey, but geez, the guy comes across as pretty high minded and when he says he knew exactly what the President meant when he said he hoped that investigation would end pronto, you can bet one of those boyz has cornered the market on Integrity and the other, well, one is a liar. Not a dissembler, not an exaggerator, not someone who’s still learning the difference (it’s so hard!), but a Liar, capital L.

The hammer is going to come down on this sad affair in American History and there will be those who stood up with courage and those who saw their hopes for political agendas slowly going up in smoke and did nothing to keep the fire from spreading. It’s sad, Very Sad! believe me, to watch this pathetic reality TV show play out day after day. There won’t be winners at the end of the series, but trust me, there will be plenty of losers. And not just the jokers who couldn’t figure out the rules of the game….

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The good folks of Portland, Oregon are on the march. It’s the whitest large city in America and they want to keep it that way. Seattle plans to march too now, no doubt realizing those pesky Arabs want to subvert their city council and impose Sharia Law on the citizens of their fair city. We apparently are Under Siege and all this time you’ve been sleeping during MSNBC.

You ask yourself maybe, what are these people smoking? And what’s next? A march against polio vaccinations? A protest against outer space intruders? Rallies to defund science? A pre-emptive strike against Mars?

Whoa, we’re already defunding science. And folks already think vaccinations cause autism and even Liberal thinking. Space intruders? Okay, let’s march against aliens. Why not? Well, I’ll tell you why not: half the protesters will probably be Them, that’s why!! They’re probably the ones who advocate for vaccines. And you know, you have to know, they believe in science, the Real Science, if they managed to get here from Solar System X. Or Mars!!!

Ignorance used to be bliss. Now it just seems like ignorance is anger. Probably caused by gluten! I was sitting in the tire shop the other day, chatting it up with a couple of fellow customers, waiting for my tire to be repaired, some screw jammed in its treads causing it to leak (go ahead, take this as a metaphor for America). You know, if I believed in that sort of cause and effect. My fellow inmates were discussing everything from health care to nuclear testing, global warming to wheat pesticides. God only knows where they glean their information, but not from scientific journals or the lying media, that’s for certain. There were multiple conspiracy theories, from the government testing nuclear bombs next to Las Vegas to Monsanto poisoning the wheat just before harvest. The government, the chemical industry, the pharmaceuticals, the United Nations, you name it, all evil, all pervasive, all out to get them.

I listened politely, asked a few questions, volunteered some replies and prayed to Allah that my tire would be fixed ASAP, before the rubber industries could imbed brainwashing devices inside the sensors they already got in my radials that would render me as ignorant and pissed off as my already doomed compatriots there in the waiting room. Sharia Law? Hellfire, I got bigger issues than that to worry about now….

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One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don’t do anything at all
Go ask Alice
When she’s ten feet tall — Jefferson Airplane “White Rabbit”

The man who formulated LSD died recently, no doubt an event that caused few raised eyebrows outside Haight Ashbury or the ground troops for the War on Drugs. But … I definitely felt a strong disturbance in the Force. For those who never partook and knew the drug only by the sensational stories in the press, the man was a nameless villain, a purveyor of a very heavy pharmaceutical that made madmen of their children and ruined many a poor boy. For those of us searching for an expanding universe, hoo wheee, the man hit the cosmic jackpot. If I had a tab of windowpane tonight, I might just put it under my tongue and slip off into the Milky Way on a passing comet as a final salute to this unsung chemist.

The Army tried using LSD-25 as an experiment in mind altering interrogations back in the psychedelic 60’s, brought a few soldiers in for a dose, then watched to see how it affected them as reality sheared off into a lateral spin over an abyss the volunteers never saw coming, just a headlong drop off the curve with no guardrails and no bottom. Frightening? Yah, shure, you betcha. Like waking up in the morning with brakes out paranoia lost in a funhouse with no doors out. You’d probably find it a queasy experience. You might not find your way back.

LSD is not for everyone, let’s make that clear to the Army docs. Pulling the rug out from under the unsuspecting, well, you ask me, that’s pretty criminal. For those who say LSD is a gateway drug, all I can say is it’s a gateway all right, but not to more drugs. More a doorway into places few folks have been and most wouldn’t want to visit. But for the adventuresome, hoo-boy, there’s a glimpse into the cosmos, inner and outer, that will last a lifetime. Reality is relative and that’s not a truth most of us want to accept. Insanity is right next door, admittedly, but so is ecstasy. Once you’ve been to either, the world will never be the same. Go ask Alice … when she’s ten feet tall.

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Down here on the wild wild South End, rugged individualism still reigns supreme. Little wonder there were cheers from the trailer parks to the gated communities for the fast exit from the Paris Climate Accords. “We have to take care of our own,” Fairlane Freddy, one of the regulars at the Diner, said the morning the news broke. “I’m tired of babysitting the rest of the world.”

“That’s right,” Jerry chimed in. “This isn’t about coal jobs, it’s about independence. The Chinese got off easy and we’re supposed to pick up the heavy end.” Two Toke Tom, his fork halfway to his mouth with a load of biscuits drenched in gravy, stopped suddenly and I shook my head no, but too late. Tom and I were badly outnumbered by this mob of Flatheads here for the vintage car club’s breakfast meeting. Why is it, I thought, that we can’t just leave well enough alone?

“You think maybe driving those carbon spewing old Hudsons is a God given right, I suppose,” Tom asked, his gravy dripping onto the formica of our table, eliciting an involuntary groan from me and more than a few raised eyebrows from the Flathead tables. I began to calculate an escape plan, something to do with a trip to the rest room then out the back door to my waiting beat up Toyota pickup. With a little luck I could toss a ten dollar bill for my tab without undue notice.

But Tom was suddenly smiling. “America first, that’s the deal!” With that he lofted his fork into his grin. Freddy was caught off guard a moment. “That’s right, Tom, us first. You got a problem with that?”

Two Toke was chewing languidly now, a cow with her cud, unperturbed. “Not me,” he finally said. “Trump knocked that president from Montenegro out of his way for a photo op. Got to look out for himself, I guess. The days of courtesy are over, eh? New sheriff in town.” That bathroom near the exit began to look like two miles away.

Anita suddenly appeared with a steaming coffee pot. “Boys, how many times I got to tell you, NO POLITICS at breakfast. Take that to the Pilot Lounge, they don’t care if you drink and run your mouth. We got families here, gentlemen, paying customers. So zip it up, that’s all I’m gonna tell you.” She turned to
Two Toke. “You want a refill or the bill?”

Tom chuckled sheepishly. “I apologize, Anita. I’d prefer a refill.”

“How about you, Fred?” she asked, still holding the pot. Fred nodded yeah. “Fill Tom’s first, why don’tcha, Anita.” And Anita did just that.

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