I’m afraid there are not enough recreational chemicals in the world to get me through today without tears and rage—to say nothing of the next four (eight?) years. But look! I made this.
I’m working on some other #notmypresident designs too. Sort of. Half-assedly. If you have a specific request I’ll design something for you, too.
*flags bartender*
*orders another*
Be well my friends.
Speak it, Jerry.
WASHINGTON, D.C. — Today, Congressman Jerrold Nadler (D-NY) released the following statement on his refusal to attend the inauguration of Donald Trump as the 45th President of the United States:
“The rhetoric and actions of Donald Trump have been so far beyond the pale – so disturbing and disheartening – and his continued failure to address his conflicts of interest, to adequately divest or even to fully disclose his financial dealings, or to sufficiently separate himself from the ethical misconduct that legal experts on both side of the aisle have identified have been so offensive I cannot in good conscience participate in this honored and revered democratic tradition of the peaceful transfer of power.
“We cannot normalize Donald Trump, and we certainly cannot turn our heads and ignore such a threat to the institutions and values of our democracy. His refusal to adequately address his business conflicts of interest, to show remorse for the inflammatory rhetoric in which he engaged during his campaign, his attempts to intimidate the press, and his continuing failure to demonstrate any interest in uniting Americans reveal a deep disrespect for the office of President.
“I refuse to sit idly by as he flaunts his illicit behavior without regard for the American people’s interest. I refuse to abide any effort to undermine a free and independent press, which serves a pivotal role in any democratic system and whose rights are guaranteed by our Constitution. I refuse to applaud for a man with a history of offensive and abusive behavior to women and minorities. I refuse to treat January 20, 2017, as business as usual.
“For these reasons, I have no interest in participating in the inauguration ceremony of Donald J. Trump.”
Readers know I don’t just go around using unironic exclamation points willy-nilly. BUT HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS!!!
Obama commutes Chelsea Manning sentence
“#NOT MY PRESIDENT!” in hot pink paint
Hudson & Christopher Sts.
__________
You know what? I also approve this tactic. Remember waaaaaay back in the ancient times of the Bush/Cheney regime, when protesters were banished to remote “First Amendment zones”? Apparently fragile conservatives – from the Commander In Chief to your ordinary right-wing doucheweasel – could never, ever be exposed to even the mildest, fact-based, critical messaging. Especially not anywhere near their Hitler Youth rallies/campaign events, or even en route thereto.
GOOD TIMES.
I want to see hot pink #NOTMYPRESIDENT everyfuckingwhere. Billboards. TV and print ads. T-shirts and jackets. Social media profiles. Bumper stickers. Tie pins. Skywriters.
#NOTMYPRESIDENT projected in gorgeous, searing fuchsia light, onto every Trump building in the world, every single night.
#NOTMYPRESIDENT spray painted in giant letters on the front of the goddamn White House. (Paging Banksy…)
I want hot pink #NOTMYPRESIDENT to be so ubiquitous that there is nowhere Trump or his supporters can go, in public, in media or online, without encountering it.
Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she?
Although now that I think about it, no one ever explained to my satisfaction what dire calamity would befall us all if these delicate conservative flowers actually encountered meaningful criticism, much less vehement protest. But based on my own experience with conservative specimens I’ve personally observed, I can predict with near certainty that they will flail and lash out like overindulged toddlers on a sugar high. Frankly this could be problematic if they have, say, the US’s entire surveillance and law enforcement institutions under their direct control. To say nothing of the nuclear launch codes…
Okay nevermind. Forget I said anything.
Have a nice day.
It has become my tradition on this day of remembrance to post the text of a speech delivered by Dr. King on April 4, 1967 at Manhattan’s Riverside Church entitled Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence (audio recording here), along with a short commentary about why I believe these words are so important. The speech is truly magnificent, yet it tends to be given short shrift relative to other works of the slain civil rights leader.
Because a feminist’s place is in the kitchen!
Wait, what?
Whatever.
Okay vegans, look away for this one. I promise I’ll make it up to you with a simple Moroccan recipe for beets that will knock your socks off.
Bisteeya (alternatively pastilla, besṭila, bastilla, b’stilla or b’steeya) is a traditional Moroccan savory pie, usually served on special occasions as a first course. When I first started exploring Moroccan cooking, bisteeya was my Holy Grail. I fell in love with it in Morocco many moons ago; here in New York, the late, great Cafe Noir used to serve it up (and well).
This is the most delicious chicken dish I have ever tasted, bar none.
Our esteemed colleague and beloved friend Don Ardell forwarded an interesting exercise he received from his friend, a fellow Robert G. Ingersoll enthusiast. The Great Agnostic was asked what he would do if he passed on and discovered there was indeed a God. The Christian god, of all the possibilities. Ugh.
Q: If you died and somehow found yourself face to face with Jeezus Haploid Christ Incorporated, what would you say to him?
I have to admit my instantaneous reaction was to imagine myself getting right up in his grill and saying FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK. And not just because I’m a New Yorker and that’s how I greet everybody. It’s probably no secret ’round here that I detest Christianity (though I do not detest all Christians) with the burning passion of ten thousand UY Scuties. Cursing Jeezus out would succinctly convey my feelings perfectly well. But upon further reflection, a more thoughtful (though no less enraged or revolted) reaction might go something like this.
Well this is rather alarming.
“BRITAIN’S fattest squirrels” are running riot in a country park where they have started attacking CHILDREN to steal food.
The chubby rodents have bulked up due to a mild winter where they have feasted on snacks left on the frost-free ground.
Okay first of all, even I don’t think we should be fat-shaming the squirrels (or other creatures for that matter).
Second, DON’T LITTER. WTF, British people?
Sophie Renouf, 23, was enjoying a walk in the woods with her son Finley when he was attacked by a mob of six squirrels.
I submit that the correct term is not a mob, but a squadron of six squirrels.
The three-year-old was feeding one of the critters before he was targeted.
!!!
Sophie, of Redruth, Cornwall, said: “There was literally one squirrel there and my son, as you would, fed him as usual.
JFC SMH.
Sophie now wants to warn others about the dangers of feeding wild squirrels.
Yeah well good luck with that Sophie.
As readers know, we already have to lock down our beer, wine, GoPro cameras and senior citizens because of the fucking squirrels and their ever-escalating war on human civilizaton. Now we have to protect our candy bar stashes too.
As of this writing, five people are dead and eight remain hospitalized after a gunman fired a barrage of bullets in a baggage claim area at Ft. Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport in Florida. The alleged shooter was taken into custody, and the airport was (and still is) on lockdown.
When the news first broke earlier today, my heart did too. My first thoughts went to the survivors, and to the loved ones of those who were killed and injured. I hope they get all the support and assistance they need after a(nother) senseless tragedy. Especially those with medical expenses that our wonderful society likes to charge to hapless victims of injury and illness.
My next thoughts were not quite so empathetic.