Dear Friends,
What a nice morning and first part of the day.
Got up and lazily went about my early day then got a nice phone call from my brother, Steve, up in Oregon. Always good to hear from Steve and I’m excited about the news he shared. Then, Dad and Lori came by for a nice visit. They dropped off a small Christmas tree for us to taunt the cats with and shared what’s been going on with them since Dad’s birthday on Tuesday.
I even had a nice phone call with my mom, too. Life is good so far.
I’m reading John Stamos’ autobiography as I’ve got an interview with the gal who helped him write it tomorrow. She’s local so the New Times is interested in her story. I’m hoping it is more interesting than the book, to be honest. I’ve never really watched any of Stamos’ work, so I’m not really invested in him as a person. There’s nothing wrong with the book, per se, and I’m sure his fans are stoked on it, but I’d much rather be finishing up the Eugene Robinson book or diving into Eye, Marty (the Marty Feldman autobiography that sat in a box for many years).
*****
I was excited to read this morning, also, that supposedly George Santos is ready to share all the shitty things he’s got on many of his colleagues now. Could Santos end up being a sort of anti-hero in all this mess? At some point, I expect at least a few of the government types to start singing loudly and it’s going to get uncomfortable for a lot of people who have been counting on the world to keep bending over for them.
Wouldn’t it be fitting if a little slime ball like Santos brought down a bunch of other slimeballs, too?
*****
Slimy little man telling lies
To cover up for other lies
That cover up for greed and fear and all the things
He thinks will make him less desirable
To you and me
But we are free.
He could have had us with the truth
He could have had us with, well, he could have had us
If he would have just done his job
And been a representative for THE PEOPLE.
Who represents the people?
No one, really, since we are talking about truth.
No one, really, is representing you
Or me
Or our kids.
No one really wants us to truly be free.
Not anyone in the U.S. (or any) government, that is.
The system isn’t broken, like people say.
The system is a token
And the rich folks have bags of them lying around.
They can put them in the social machine
And play us any time they want.
Didn’t you know you were in a game?
What a shame to be in a game that you can’t even play.
You don’t even get a say
So hey, why don’t you just roll over and play dead.
Be a good boy and beg.
Sit!
Lay down!
Speak, but not too loudly.
Stupid dog!
Slimy little men selling lies.
Slimy little men praying for alibis.
Slimy little men with bleached assholes
And fancy sunglasses.
Slimy little men with New York apartments
And Fire Island getaways.
Don’t tell anyone you’re gay, okay?
Because slimy little men want to buy your vote
And buy a life they can’t afford.
Die on the SWORD but don’t swallow one.
It’s just words.
*****
See you tomorrow.
Three years ago, Bentley went to Canyon Lake with us on my birthday. Look at him living his best life.
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