TRUMP, OR SOMETHING LIKE HIM …

This piece was written by “Regie Hamm” and I am re-posting his remarks on this subject because he is spot-on and I agree totally.


“Give me an asshole who can play …”

This is a famous quote from iconic drummer, Buddy Rich. Buddy only wanted the best on stage with him. He didn’t care about their “moral character” or if they were pleasant to be around. He didn’t even care if he, himself, liked them. He hired only guys who could burn the room down with him …not boy scouts who were mediocre. Hence, the famous quote.

President Donald Trump appears to be in trouble. A series of confessions and convictions, of and by people around him, are casting a strange, dark light on his presidency at the moment. There is a perception (at least) that shady stuff has gone on around this guy. And when shady stuff constantly goes on around someone in charge, you have to conclude that the guy in charge is okay with shady stuff.

Has he hung around tax evaders and money launderers? Clearly. Did he pay off porn stars and Playboy Playmates to keep their dalliances quiet? I think we can safely conclude that he did. Is he a petulant child in the Twitter-verse? One hundred percent. Does he say things in public my mother would slap me for saying? Literally, everyday. Did he conspire with a foreign power to win an election? Maybe. Will any of this make a difference to his supporters? That’s a complicated answer. Let me explain …

I have a theory that all presidential elections are reactions to the sitting president at the time. I’m old enough to remember Jimmy Carter getting elected (in large part) because he was a wholesome, moral breath of fresh air in an atmosphere of corruption and scandal created during the Nixon years. I was only a kid, but I distinctly remember entire churches being excited to go out and vote for an openly Christian man for president. Then, after four years of that disaster, I remember those same people breaking speed limit laws to get to the polls to vote for Reagan as fast as they could.

The conditions that created a “president Trump” kinda started with Bill Clinton, who led to George W Bush …who led to Barack Obama.

By the time we got to him, Mr Obama was going to be the antidote to incompetence and corruption and war mongering and, yes …even racism. But a very strange thing happened during Mr Obama’s presidency. Racism didn’t end. Corruption didn’t end. Wars didn’t end. And incompetence might’ve actually gotten worse. My full day of talking to the customer service agent at the newly created healthcare exchange, did NOT leave me confident.

And what was discovered during Mr Obama’s 8 years, was that in a free market nation, over-taxing, over-regulating and a leader who constantly berates the business community and supports policies that place more emphasis on celebrating the “diversity” of people groups than on law and order for every individual, and foreign policies that take everything but the nation you’ve been elected to lead into account, simply doesn’t work.

What was also exposed in those 8 years was how feckless and weak Republicans had actually become in their opposition to such things. And with candidates literally talking openly about socialism and nationalizing private institutions, a guy like Trump comes along and promises to re-set the foundation of the nation the way Americans understand it …and the way they want it. Is he really that much of a surprise?

I talk occasionally about the fourth revolution. And Donald Trump is the leader of it.

If you’re appalled at the lewd behavior of your president, you’re behind. That ship sailed when one was getting blow jobs by an intern half his age, in the Oval Office …AND. NOBODY. CARED.

If you wish your president was decent and measured and refused to return fire at his critics, you’re behind. We already had that guy and he was called a war criminal, who should be tried at the Hague (Rosie O’Donell’s public announcement) and “retarded” (Chris Rock’s word – DEFINITELY not mine), someone who should force his daughters to go to war (Matt Damon’s suggestion) a monster who deliberately broke the levies in New Orleans to drown black people (Spike Lee’s claim) and on and on and on …AND. NOBODY. CARED.

If you wish your president was upstanding and righteous and said all the right things, you’re behind. Mitt Romney already ran. AND. NOBODY. CARED.

If you wish your president was a humble and honorable true public servant, without moral blemishes, you’re behind. Bob Dole (a man who gave his right hand to his country) and John McCain (a man who gave both arms to his country) already ran. AND. NOBODY. CARED.

Donald Trump was the last branch to grab before the nation hit the ground. But he has changed the game in some ways. Nobody believes a nice guy can get it done, anymore. We’ve had nice guys …and nothing changed.

Cutting taxes and repatriating a trillion dollars was the right thing to do. And it’s working. And only a guy who doesn’t give crap about what people think of him could’ve gotten it done. Moving the American embassy in Israel to Jerusalem was the right thing to do. It sends a message to the rest of the middle east and, in turn, creates a stability hard to quantify. Presidents on BOTH sides of the aisle have promised to do it. It should’ve been done decades ago. But only a guy who doesn’t give a crap about what people think of him could’ve gotten it done.

Taking Kim Jong Un on …head on …is looking like it was the right thing to do. But only a guy who doesn’t give a crap about what people think of him would’ve even attempted it.

While Mr Trump’s lawyers and campaign people were perp-walking in and out of ivory towers, a teenaged girl in Iowa – as middle-America a place as you can find – was being murdered by someone in the country illegally. That creates real world fear for Americans everywhere. We have enough fear of our own citizenry, breaking our own laws. And reasonable Americans don’t think it’s UNreasonable to ask people wanting to come to our country …to sign the hell in. They don’t see how that makes them racists. It simply doesn’t compute. And the only elected leader giving them any cover is the flawed president.

So, did Donald Trump collude and conspire with Russians to win an election? What the media and his opponents (and even a lot of Republicans) STILL don’t or can’t or won’t understand is that it doesn’t matter. He didn’t have to collude with anybody. He was going to win either way. He had millions of Americans at “build a wall” and “cut your taxes” and especially at, “I don’t give a crap what people think.”

Donald Trump may get impeached or arrested or disgraced or unseated or whatever. But what people had better realize is that if he’s gone, a large percentage of the population will be looking for something or someone JUST like him …to replace him. There’s too much at stake; too many socialists on the horizon, too many empty suits looking for lifetime political gigs, too many “nice guys” with great smiles and weak spines, to take anymore chances.

We just want an asshole who can play. And with the economy roaring and North Korea neutralized and ISIS basically contained and defeated, it appears that despite all the weirdness that surrounds him, he can, indeed, play.

R

21 Heart-Punching Quotes

“You could tie my tongue
My lips, my teeth
Split them into surrender
Into a foreign language
And I would still manage
To cough up your name.”

– Danielle Shorr, “Let”


“Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.”

Pablo Neruda, “Here I Love You”



“You cracked hourglass, with sand spilling from behind your ribs: you wasted my time.”

Rudy Francisco, “Scars”


“He texts me about all the fun he’s having but I’m the first person he tells about a paper cut. My sister compares her body to a junkyard and I find bits of scrap metal beneath her bed from boys who bury promises in her belly. Maybe love ruins you a little bit. Maybe we don’t care. We are so young to hate everything so much. Can recite the periodic table from memory but still can’t quite believe it when they say that they love us, too.

– Kristina Haynes, “The Year of Our Disbelief”


“When a boy tells you he loves you for the first time
only to become silent like a folded sheet of tissue paper
not wanting you to decrease him into the truth,
do not crack your face into the fullest crescent moon at the tapered bottom of a blackened sky.
He never meant a single word of any of it.
He is just a boy,
remember?
Only a boy,
do you remember?”

– Edwin Bodney, “When a Boy Tells You He Loves You”


“You just need to know this is the first time I’ve ever done this without looking for an exit row.
And I’m pretty sure my seat can’t float but I’ve already fallen from the sky for you,
Already said no to the parachute,
Already told my mother you curse like a sailor and you love like the war is finally over and you have just come home and you are running down the dock in the harbor and you’re screaming my name.
You’re screaming “honey”
and I’m screaming “don’t trip”
and you’re screaming “honey honey”
and I’m screaming “baby don’t fall down”
I am running for your red lips
I am running for your red heart
With my red heart
Red as a Mississippi sunset
Honey”

Andrea Gibson, “Honey”


“See, the 17 year old girl in me fell in love with your silent eyes. I imagine they looked the same when you were convinced of your own brokenness. I imagine your lashes wrote anthologies every time they kissed your cheeks; maybe that’s why I heard a century of voices in your quiet. Every unspoken part of you sang symphonies when we touched and I found myself wanting to be a musician all over again.”

– Aman Batra, “When The Timing Isn’t Right, Neither Is The Man”


Our love is hitchhiking across the California desert
and no one is slowing down. Is a lie still a lie
if you say it pretty? You’re saying you don’t know
what you want and I’m picking pieces of glass
from your throat. Something is burning but I can’t
tell what it is. I’ve had a nightmare every night
since I was a kid and it always ends the same.
I can’t breathe and I can’t move and I am stuck
in this place without air in my lungs. This is all to say
I think I knew you before I knew my own name.

– Fortesa Latifi, “1-10”


“You are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name.”

Warsan Shire, “For Women Who Are Difficult to Love”


“We spelled love g-i-v-e. I never wanted to hide my body from him. If I could have I would have given it all away with the rest of me. I did not know it was possible to save some things for myself.”

– Sarah Kay, “Private Parts”


“This is a dying fleck of love,
about a drunken man, and a broken woman,
taking steps into the woods,
trying to remember the days,
when the moon was full.”

– Rachel Blattstein, “Moon”


“I kiss temporary lips with permanence
Hoping that I can train them to stay
I love temporary people with permanence
Hoping that I can train them not to leave
And when they do
I claim to have seen it coming
I am incapable of forgetting
A scrapbook memory of skin and heartbeat
Of touch and moments
I know not to look directly into eyes
For they can be blinding
And I still
Do it anyway”

– Danielle Shorr, “I Will Regret This In The Morning”


“And you will try on my backbone and see how bad it hurt the day you said you were calling it quits.
I don’t remember why you left
Or why you came back.
I don’t know how many years have passed.
I’m not really sure years passed at all.

All I know is the rain falls;
You kiss me like a rain fall”

– Alysia Harris, “Death Poem”


“I realized that the act of falling in love is not so much a falling as a desperate, terrifying leap off the highest building around, the kind of jump that ends in not just a single casualty, but two.”

– Meggie Royer, “Not So Much Falling In Love As Leaping Into It”


“and I pick
up her lovely
dress,
all her loveliness gone,
and I speak to all the gods,
Jewish gods, Christ-gods,
chips of blinking things,
idols, pills, bread,
fathoms, risks,
knowledgeable surrender,
rats in the gravy of two gone quite mad
without a chance,
hummingbird knowledge, hummingbird chance,
I lean upon this,
I lean on all of this
and I know
her dress upon my arm
but
they will not
give her back to me.”

Charles Bukowski, “For Jane: With All the Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough”


“He used to love me,
and now
he’s just a stranger
who happens to know
all my secrets.”

– Clementine Von Radics, “It’s Just So Strange”


“Only one girl has ever really wrapped my stomach into pretzels.
She didn’t give me butterflies.
She gave me pterodactyls.
I’m talking terrible internal bruising and the first time I kissed her was like the first time I saw fireworks,
which was like the sky first kissing me in the eyeballs.”

– Watsky, “Nothing Like The First Time”


“I want a love that makes me need to change my cell phone calling plan
To something allows me to talk to her longer
‘cause in all honesty, I want to avoid one of them high cell phone bill type loves
And I want a love that makes me regret how small my hands are
I mean the lines on my palms don’t give me enough time
To love you as long as I’d like to type love”

– Shihan, “This Type Love”


“Your voice is the only alarm that I’ll actually wake up to.
Your laugh is that one song they play way too much on the radio, but for some reason, I still love it.
Your smile is the only thing that makes me hate mornings a little less.
Your hands are my security, like knowing that even when I drive you nuts, you’re still gonna reach for me.
And my arm always falls asleep when you do because I just want to be able to hold you even in your dreams.”

– Sy Stokes & Ari Eastman, “Cuddle Poem”


“Because I could set a watch by the times I think about you. You have become a benchmark in my life. The familiar thing I hope to catch in my rearview mirror when I am driving at night.

You are still a mark in the distance I can use to find my way. When your ghost comes around he is still comforting, familiar, fleeting.

When your memory finds me, you still feel like home.”

Chrissy Stockton , “Aurora Borealis”