Motorcade to Miranda

04/04/2023 by J. Nelson

I don’t know any Secret Service agents, do you? So I wonder: Are Trump’s protectors scratching their heads here, or are they constipated by commitment, courage, and back-up plans?

On the drive over from Trump Tower, were any lost in the mind-expansion of checking corners for blind spots vs. bail bondsmen?

During the arraignment itself, in that crowded corridor and beyond, was a kaleidoscope of Law & Order characters among the jailers, journalists, U.S. Marshals, FBI, Trump staffers, lawyers, indicted officeholders, real estate groupies, and celebrity gossipers. So many doors, so many suits and ties! How were they able to tell the cops from the crooks or the Bozo’s from the Serpicos?

What did their earpieces confirm, that Agent Larry had just cracked, stripping off his suit like a Chippendale to sing atop one of the bulletproof Escalades?

And all that standing around time! Were agents eavesdropping on slouchy beat cops, lipreading for lunch ideas? Did Hernandez show up sportin’ floods again? Best thousand-yard stare anyone? Was Trump’s close knit group of operatives ostracized by ordinary officers?

Between the badges, body armor, and batons, who coveted whose utility belts? Was there insecurity among the tactically secure? How were female personnel able to withstand this gravity crushing, time-bending black hole of mansplaining?

What sabotaged the straightfaced? In this patriotastic vortex of professional protectors, how did the jokers keep from messing with their workmates? Who elbowed their neighbor when the Lieutenant gave in and scratched his balls? Who sneezed when the former President walked by? Who wondered if their, a-hem, secret “service” smelled as badly as they feared?

Were there convos on contradictions among Trump’s bullet-catchers? Would any admit to being curious about consequences for the rich and well-connected?

As each who swore an oath to “protect and defend” stood by their professional honor and obligations, how many feared an impending end to what inspired their pledge?

Finally, with all that heavyweight allegiance to law and order, what were their excuses for any lack of curiosity?

All images:

Now That He Has “Shut up…”

10/02/2020 by J. Nelson

Be careful what you wish for can be interpreted in many ways.

I’m inclined to resist “I hope he dies!” and “It’s about time!”

But my not seeking solace in vindictiveness and Schadenfreude has nothing to do with being a good example. That’s Michelle Obama’s “When they go low, we go high,” thing.

I’m thinking more like, “be careful what you wish for.” And not just because Vice President Handmaid’s Tale could take Trump’s place.

No, the facepalm I’m afraid of is right outta the 2020 Twilight Zone: What if we get a POTUS turnaround “like the world has never seen”?

What if the guy comes back from a nutty near-death experience and suddenly stops being a walking obstruction of justice? What if the oaf wakes up and fires Bill Barr, pays his back taxes, resolves Trump family business conflicts, and outlaws private prisons? What if – POOF! he renews the Spanish translation option at WhiteHouse.gov, starts singing Hallelujah while abolishing ICE, counts America’s immigrants among its most valuable assets, drops Amy Coney Barrett for her non-disclosure issues, and has the Proud Boys slapped with the RICO Act? What if he renames the Green New Deal “TRUMP’S Green New Deal,” then Executive Orders it right into existence? After America picks itself up off the floor, will it let the name change pass? I would.

The thought of what would be required of us if Trump somehow got a clue is the scary part. Are we too self-admiring? Would we come together and pull it off?

I know…this is silly fantasy, and “crazier things have happened” doesn’t apply because nothing crazier ever could or has.

But this guy catching COVID indeed makes him eligible for hitting a bottom, and that’s a far more imaginable and down to earth way to phrase it.

Trump has, as Biden now famously asked, “…just shut up, man.”

Be careful what you wish for are powerful words…

10/8/2020 Follow up:

There’s No Excuse for Baby Tattoos

03/20/2015 by J. Nelson

You wouldn’t have a picture of your tongue tattooed on your arm, would you?

Aren’t we talking about something 80 days shy of looking like someone’s tongue?

Well, this non-parent certainly is.

The faces of most newborns don’t have nearly enough character to justify placement under your Mötorhead tattoo. Fresh babies are rapidly evolving and for all intents and purposes, under cooked. You wouldn’t want to look at it in a bowl, would you? C’mon, even highly stylized baby tattoos are not an improvement.

Don’t kid yourself – when a child is breathing for the first time, he or she doesn’t want to be there. He or she could care less about your discount at Creeper Ink on 30th and Piedmont, or your penchant for over-sentimentalizing mushy disruptions. Read more