’Tis the last rose of summer

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 2 Comments
It’s not a poppy, but it will have to do.

This is a very confused rose.

It popped up a few days ago on the southwest side of El Rancho Pendejo, which proved fortunate, because the northeast sector is getting flogged by a light snow driven by a heavy wind. The thermometer tells me it’s 26F outdoors, feels like 16.

If I felt like 16 I might go out for my usual Monday-morning run. But I don’t, so I won’t. It seems a fine day to stay indoors and practice the guitar, script the next podcast, or fiddle with technology.

Over the weekend I hopscotched the 2009 iMac from Yosemite to High Sierra, and while the patient briefly took a turn for the worse yesterday, this morning I am cautiously optimistic.

For some time the auld fella has suffered from a bad case of thermal mismanagement that for no good reason cues the fans to crank up to swamp-boat ferocity.

Neither the Apple Geniuses nor I have been able to find the root cause, so I figured what the hell, give it a Dr. Gumbyesque brain transplant, and if it croaks on the table, well, off to the boneyard with it. Cupertino won’t even take this bucket of bytes as a trade-in; Apple’s GiveBack program deems both it and our 2010 Mini suitable only for recycling.

But ’ee’s not dead yet, and while ’ee may not be foolin’ anyone, it seems ’ee still doesn’t want to go on the cart.

The band played ‘Waltzing Matilda’

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 16 Comments

This classic goes out as an homage to all who served and a caution to all who send them.

• Extra Credit Military History Reading: An adaptation from “The Fighters: Americans in Combat in Afghanistan and Iraq,” by Pulitzer Prize winner C.J. Chivers.

• Double Extra Credit WWI Poetry Readings: From the Poetry Foundation, whose editors note: “You may notice that more poems in 1914 and 1915 extoll the old virtues of honor, duty, heroism, and glory, while many later poems after 1915 approach these lofty abstractions with far greater skepticism and moral subtlety, through realism and bitter irony. Though horrific depictions of battle in poetry date back to Homer’s Iliad, the later poems of WWI mark a substantial shift in how we view war and sacrifice.”

Winning: a meditation on the midterms

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 13 Comments

Remember how it feels to lose?

We ought to keep that in mind when we win.

The only people who should be dancing in the end zone are the cheerleaders. And they’d best be full of Gatorade, ’cause this game is only at halftime.

Yes, yes, yes, it’s another Friday Afternoon Club(bing) from Radio Free Dogpatch. But you won’t need the performance-enhancing drugs to get through this one. You’ve probably stayed clean through longer political ads.

“Democrats eat babies.” This one features a heavily Photoshopped image of a smiling Nancy Pelosi with a platter full of tiny arms and legs, a hammer-and-sickle bib, and barbecue sauce smeared over her lips.

“Republicans boink babies.” Well, we won’t need the Photoshop for this one.* But still, you get the idea, right?

* Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Comity only goes so far around here.

• Technical notes: This episode was recorded with an Audio-Technica ATR2100-USB microphone and a Zoom H5 Handy Recorder. I edited the audio using Apple’s GarageBand. The background music is “Tiny Town” from ZapSplat, and the “National Emblem March” was performed by the U.S. Air Force Heritage of America Band.

Another day, another dolor? Nope.

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 44 Comments
“He’s done it again! It’s coming up! It’s coming up!”

It’s morning in Albuquerque, if not throughout America.

The Donks took the U.S. House, which means, as Charlie Pierce notes, “for the first time in two years, there is an institution of the government that is neither afraid of, nor controlled by, the president*.”

But the Elefinks held the Senate, even padding their slim edge. So, yeah. The Turtle will be with us for a while yet.

Elsewhere, Wisconsin shitcanned Scott Walker, and Kansas told Kris Kobach they’d had quite enough of him and his racist machinations, thanks all the same. “Carried by prayer,” me bollocks. The Lord works in mysterious ways, shit-for-brains. Back to remedial law school wi’ ye.

Up in Colorado, Mike Coffman finally got his. And my former state elected a gay Jew as governor while keeping Lil’ Dougie Lamborn in the House despite his long record of doing not much beyond running his fat yap and cashing checks. As I said, the Lord works in mysterious ways, when He works at all.

Florida was a trainwreck, because, well, Florida, man. The best thing to come out of that hot mess was SNL’s Pete Davidson observing that Rick Scott “looks like someone tried to whittle Bruce Willis out of a penis.”

Something smells in Georgia, too, and it’s not cherry blossoms. Brian Kemp had his fat white thumb on the scales there, and I’d guess that investigation he ordered in the final days of the election is pointed in the wrong direction.

Speaking of odors, a dead Republican pimp won election to the state Assembly in Nevada. I think he should be seated, if only as a wake-up call to the electorate.

Here in New Mexico the Donks crushed it. The hoped-for blue wave dreamed of nationwide may not have arisen, but we had one here. Props to Herself for working the phones and canvassing the electorate. Thanks in part to her hard work, the former federale Melanie Ann Stansbury ousted longtime incumbent Jimmie Hall in our own little state-House contest.

There’s more out there I haven’t yet managed to absorb along with just one cup of coffee, but I’d have to award a qualified “well done” so far. You don’t want to hand the Donks everything all at once and expect them to do anything with it beyond fucking up.