Yes, that’s exactly what it appears to be: a Christmas display at the local Lowe’s, in September.
I think we all know what I want for Christmas (cough, cough, impeachment, removal, cough, cough).
But having been a very naughty boy indeed, I don’t expect to get it.
Well, I expect to get it, all right. But not that “it.”
That old queen is at it again, this time questioning whether the chairman of the House Intelligence Committee, Rep. Adam B. Schiff, should be arrested for treason. For, y’know, like, being a big ol’ blue meanie, an’ stuff.
My man Padraig at Red Kite Prayer is having a rough go of it lately — so much so that he has turned to ketamine therapy in his ongoing struggle with depression.
In a word, this takes huevos. In my misspent youth I dabbled with various psychedelics — mostly psilocybin, mescaline and LSD — and I don’t mind telling you that any or all of these can really pop the top off your Jack-in-the-box.
Thing is, Smilin’ Jack isn’t the only fella in there. And he isn’t always the first one to hit the door running.
It’s one thing to hitch a ride on the Magic Bus when you’re young and sprightly, with your script largely unwritten. I’m not certain I’d have the guts to screen my personal in-flight movie a half-century further on up the road. A lot of that footage is on the cranial cutting-room floor for a reason.
So chapeau to Padraig for having the courage to lift the lid (or rip off the Band-Aid) and face what’s underneath. And for inviting us to join him on the trip. I wish him health and happiness.
If you’ve enjoyed his work, why not pop round to his place to say so? I think he’d like to hear from you.
• Extra-credit reading: Scientific American on ketamine therapy. And William Styron’s “Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness.”
This one goes out to all the rain dogs “enjoying” today’s world championship road race. For I am a rain dog too.
“You got to know the right people,” indeed. Starting with a good copy editor. Or at least one who isn’t on drucks.
Mad Blog Media 