It is not remarkable that Donald Trump has the same patriotism in 2019 that he had in 1980. Only the names of the countries that were 'ripping off our nation" have changed. In 1980 he mentions Japan and Saudi Arabia. In 2019 it is Iran and China. The message is the same.
As I'm watching various YouTube recommended interviews with Donald Trump from the 80s, 90s and 2000s, I'm becoming more and more appalled with these bullshit Impeachment hearings.
Trump's speeches and interviews through the years leading to his run and election is proof upon proof upon proof that he has always loved his country, and wanted for her a strong leader.
There wasn't. So he ran. And won.
The Democrats don't want him to succeed because it makes their policies look bad. Instead they are wasting his time on political nonsense and forcing him to be distracted. They are failing to distract and obstruct him, and they are failing their constituents that don't vote based simply on irrational hatred of our president.
Of course I don't feel sorry for Donald Trump; quite the opposite. He enjoys this. He doesn't shy away from calling out these annoying attempts by Democrats to smear him before the election, and he is probably somewhat satisfied knowing that it is their Hail Mary attempt. Trump knows that the Democrats know they can't beat him fairly in an election, and they are choosing to destroy the country's integrity to try to cling to power instead.
The Democrats are doing exactly what they warned us Donald Trump would do.
Donald Trump is doing the job he was always meant to do.
Now it is time for him to do the work; he has trade deals to make.
Friday, October 25, 2019
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
Been Noveling
Ok, ok, ok
I’ve unfortunately neglected this blog, and taken a real good big stab at The Novel instead.
It was never supposed to be ‘instead.’ This blog was supposed to be an ‘also,’ but my brain still isn’t big enough, and my time not managed enough, for both. There’s that little big distraction called YouTube that keeps me from focusing for long periods of time. Or any amount of time.
And then next month is National Novel Writing Month. Another excuse to stab The Novel to death….to bring it to life? The metaphor is now completely nonsensical.
This is my 10th attempt, my 10th year. Yikes. (This doesn’t help me not worry about my mortality. Or how I don’t use it.)
I’ll use that challenge to push me to finish The Novel’s draft. Then comes the new year with all the editing, and….maybe I’ll switch over to medium.com….blogspot is so 2005, and that was officially a long time ago, though the music is timeless.
Apologies for the placeholder apology post, better than nothing. (I also blocked twitter to keep myself focused; ironically no one will see this apology post.)
I’ve unfortunately neglected this blog, and taken a real good big stab at The Novel instead.
It was never supposed to be ‘instead.’ This blog was supposed to be an ‘also,’ but my brain still isn’t big enough, and my time not managed enough, for both. There’s that little big distraction called YouTube that keeps me from focusing for long periods of time. Or any amount of time.
And then next month is National Novel Writing Month. Another excuse to stab The Novel to death….to bring it to life? The metaphor is now completely nonsensical.
This is my 10th attempt, my 10th year. Yikes. (This doesn’t help me not worry about my mortality. Or how I don’t use it.)
I’ll use that challenge to push me to finish The Novel’s draft. Then comes the new year with all the editing, and….maybe I’ll switch over to medium.com….blogspot is so 2005, and that was officially a long time ago, though the music is timeless.
Apologies for the placeholder apology post, better than nothing. (I also blocked twitter to keep myself focused; ironically no one will see this apology post.)
Monday, October 7, 2019
Paper Boy Prince Album Release Party Review
Paper Boy Prince of the Suburbs blasts his speakers in front of the Popeye's that is directly below the subway station at Myrtle Broadway, nationally known as K2 corner. He performs on roller blades for hours, defying exhaustion and defining endurance, his shows free for the passersby. His get up is a glittering cloak and tentacled red and yellow du rag, and his songs are about Math and Spaghetti.
Friday was his Andrew Yang for President themed album release party at a bar/coffee shop/venue near K2 corner called ‘Jones Beach.’ The website mentioned a $10 cover, but when I arrived it was ‘by donation,’ so I gave them all the money in my wallet: $8. (I really like to support Paper Boy Prince of the Suburbs and am indifferent to Andrew Yang. I was already registered to vote.)
I squished myself into the corner of the bar to people watch because I was alone. I eavesdropped on a dork in shorts with the same name as yours truly as he introduced himself to Paper Boy (I wanted to do that!) to talk about why Andrew Yang is so great. Paper Boy’s hair was short, and the top was bleached blond with ‘$1,000’ written in white, representing Andrew Yang’s silly, but cute promise to give each American $1,000/month.
A man talking to my namesake after Paper Boy left screamed without warning, "I don't have a girlfriend!" I knew how he felt but wanted him to shut the fuck up. He was embarrassing himself. And me.
Another guy with slicked back hair and handsome, bulging eyes bought his entire crew a drink as his two friends had an inane, drunken conversation about how they don't have conversations that they shouldn't have. I did not understand this, but I liked trying.
Jones Beach is a hallway with a bar in it, which leads to a smaller hallway with a bathroom closet and an actual closet at the end of that hallway, where shows are hosted. The room was empty before Paper Boy was ready to perform, and a band that wasn't about to perform unnecessarily filled the room with their amps and a drum kit. Known to many as the rapper from in front of the Popeye's on K2 corner, Paper Boy is otherwise very good, and draws crowds accordingly. The place was a fire hazard for everyone--including an unfit old couple in the audience--and an honor to Paper Boy.
Paper Boy was starting, and I was in the corner, comfortably nestled uncomfortably beside a new couple that was unnecessarily making out, while Paper Boy let some no-name losers from the crowd freestyle. He is a very generous person to give up his valuable time to the talent less, rhythmically speaking incomprehensible phrases over a bad mic. The crowd still managed to laugh and ooh and aah at lyrics that I doubt were legitimately funny. It all sounded garbled to me.
The couple left after the freestyles and before Paper By performed. They never came back and stayed for the worst part so they probably went to have sex.
Paper Boy knows that listeners today want simple, catchy hooks about spaghetti and math. Money and misogyny are so 2000s, and the fashionable lyrical topic of depression is overplayed. Paper Boy is not depressed, nor does he fake it for clout, so he doesn’t need a face tattoo and relies on creativity alone.
When Paper Boy finally performed his hit song ‘Math’ he was in the midst of the crowd and only had a tiny circle of space around him. He really knew how to work the crowd. The man without the girlfriend thrashed around excitedly in Paper Boy’s small circle, “celebrating” selfishly and blocking my only good angle to record 'Math' for my math teacher roommate. By choice Paper Boy took to standing on the band’s amp so people in the back could see him, opting to move a little less. He was very generous.
After his 15 minute set Paper Boy took a break and a girl dressed as a penis took his spot on the amp.
“I love dick!!” She screamed, and the crowd screamed with her. “I love dick pics!!!” The crowd roared. “Dressing up like this, I know what it is like to have unjustified privilege!” I rolled my fucking eyes. It used to be that a girl could just dress up like a penis and sing songs about dicks. Now, everything has to be socio-sexual-political.
She had more than one song about the topic of dicks, and dick pics. It was lowbrow, and worse, it was unfunny. I took the opportunity to finally talk to Paper Boy, now shirtless.
“Hey, what’s that song about spaghetti?” I asked him. “I love that song.”
“That is a song called Spaghetti. There is also one called Spaghetti Dessert.”
“Can you perform those songs?”
“It has not been requested yet. That is one of my lesser known songs. Now that it has been requested I will perform it next.”
“Thank you,” I said. Then Paper Boy was accosted by another ravenous fan and I went to the bar to close my tab with a shot of tequila and to escape the wretched songs of the girl in the penis costume. A large group of people gathered outside Jones Beach, and loitered there. They were not coming inside. They must not have known who Paper Boy was.
I wandered the neighborhood, reminded of the years that I wasted on these streets, then ran back inside thinking that I might miss Paper Boy perform ‘Spaghetti.’ Instead, a different artist was performing: Lexa Terrestrial. She was admittedly very tiny, and her parents were in the audience.
“I want to thank my parents for coming tonight!” She yelled and the crowd roared.
If the penis girl had any decency/decent parents, she would never perform in front of them. Therefore I took Lexa Terrestrial more seriously than the penis girl, and liked her outfit more: she wore a mini-skirt and what looked like a metallic top that was strapped with stuffed animals. I liked her, but I wanted more Paper...yeah!
She finished and it was ok. Then some kid in a boring hoodie (no costume) and a tattoo on his cheekbone came up to perform. What was this? A talent show?
“I need everyone to turn the fuck up!!” he demanded.
Friday was his Andrew Yang for President themed album release party at a bar/coffee shop/venue near K2 corner called ‘Jones Beach.’ The website mentioned a $10 cover, but when I arrived it was ‘by donation,’ so I gave them all the money in my wallet: $8. (I really like to support Paper Boy Prince of the Suburbs and am indifferent to Andrew Yang. I was already registered to vote.)
I squished myself into the corner of the bar to people watch because I was alone. I eavesdropped on a dork in shorts with the same name as yours truly as he introduced himself to Paper Boy (I wanted to do that!) to talk about why Andrew Yang is so great. Paper Boy’s hair was short, and the top was bleached blond with ‘$1,000’ written in white, representing Andrew Yang’s silly, but cute promise to give each American $1,000/month.
A man talking to my namesake after Paper Boy left screamed without warning, "I don't have a girlfriend!" I knew how he felt but wanted him to shut the fuck up. He was embarrassing himself. And me.
Another guy with slicked back hair and handsome, bulging eyes bought his entire crew a drink as his two friends had an inane, drunken conversation about how they don't have conversations that they shouldn't have. I did not understand this, but I liked trying.
Jones Beach is a hallway with a bar in it, which leads to a smaller hallway with a bathroom closet and an actual closet at the end of that hallway, where shows are hosted. The room was empty before Paper Boy was ready to perform, and a band that wasn't about to perform unnecessarily filled the room with their amps and a drum kit. Known to many as the rapper from in front of the Popeye's on K2 corner, Paper Boy is otherwise very good, and draws crowds accordingly. The place was a fire hazard for everyone--including an unfit old couple in the audience--and an honor to Paper Boy.
Paper Boy was starting, and I was in the corner, comfortably nestled uncomfortably beside a new couple that was unnecessarily making out, while Paper Boy let some no-name losers from the crowd freestyle. He is a very generous person to give up his valuable time to the talent less, rhythmically speaking incomprehensible phrases over a bad mic. The crowd still managed to laugh and ooh and aah at lyrics that I doubt were legitimately funny. It all sounded garbled to me.
The couple left after the freestyles and before Paper By performed. They never came back and stayed for the worst part so they probably went to have sex.
Paper Boy knows that listeners today want simple, catchy hooks about spaghetti and math. Money and misogyny are so 2000s, and the fashionable lyrical topic of depression is overplayed. Paper Boy is not depressed, nor does he fake it for clout, so he doesn’t need a face tattoo and relies on creativity alone.
When Paper Boy finally performed his hit song ‘Math’ he was in the midst of the crowd and only had a tiny circle of space around him. He really knew how to work the crowd. The man without the girlfriend thrashed around excitedly in Paper Boy’s small circle, “celebrating” selfishly and blocking my only good angle to record 'Math' for my math teacher roommate. By choice Paper Boy took to standing on the band’s amp so people in the back could see him, opting to move a little less. He was very generous.
After his 15 minute set Paper Boy took a break and a girl dressed as a penis took his spot on the amp.
“I love dick!!” She screamed, and the crowd screamed with her. “I love dick pics!!!” The crowd roared. “Dressing up like this, I know what it is like to have unjustified privilege!” I rolled my fucking eyes. It used to be that a girl could just dress up like a penis and sing songs about dicks. Now, everything has to be socio-sexual-political.
She had more than one song about the topic of dicks, and dick pics. It was lowbrow, and worse, it was unfunny. I took the opportunity to finally talk to Paper Boy, now shirtless.
“Hey, what’s that song about spaghetti?” I asked him. “I love that song.”
“That is a song called Spaghetti. There is also one called Spaghetti Dessert.”
“Can you perform those songs?”
“It has not been requested yet. That is one of my lesser known songs. Now that it has been requested I will perform it next.”
“Thank you,” I said. Then Paper Boy was accosted by another ravenous fan and I went to the bar to close my tab with a shot of tequila and to escape the wretched songs of the girl in the penis costume. A large group of people gathered outside Jones Beach, and loitered there. They were not coming inside. They must not have known who Paper Boy was.
I wandered the neighborhood, reminded of the years that I wasted on these streets, then ran back inside thinking that I might miss Paper Boy perform ‘Spaghetti.’ Instead, a different artist was performing: Lexa Terrestrial. She was admittedly very tiny, and her parents were in the audience.
“I want to thank my parents for coming tonight!” She yelled and the crowd roared.
If the penis girl had any decency/decent parents, she would never perform in front of them. Therefore I took Lexa Terrestrial more seriously than the penis girl, and liked her outfit more: she wore a mini-skirt and what looked like a metallic top that was strapped with stuffed animals. I liked her, but I wanted more Paper...yeah!
She finished and it was ok. Then some kid in a boring hoodie (no costume) and a tattoo on his cheekbone came up to perform. What was this? A talent show?
“I need everyone to turn the fuck up!!” he demanded.
‘You can’t demand that your audience be turned up before you start performing! You need to turn us up!’ I thought. What a wasted face….I didn’t care to remember his name, and left before Paper Boy could perform spaghetti. It was late. I was tired.
On my way out I noticed a faded sign in the window of Jones Beach listing all of the ‘types’ of people that were not welcome: racists, transphobes, bigots, homophobes etc.
‘Don't be cowards. Just say ‘No Trump supporters.’ That’s what you really mean,’ I thought.
Art is so needlessly political nowadays. Even the lovely Paper Boy, with his 'Andrew Yang for President’ album release party is guilty of politicizing his art.
However, Andrew Yang is the only acceptable candidate for Paper Boy's support because Paper Boy is as unique on the surface as Andrew Yang: an Asian, Democrat and businessman. They both defy categorization, have agreeable personality types, and aren't obsessed with sex-politics.
Subscribe to Paper Boy Prince
On my way out I noticed a faded sign in the window of Jones Beach listing all of the ‘types’ of people that were not welcome: racists, transphobes, bigots, homophobes etc.
‘Don't be cowards. Just say ‘No Trump supporters.’ That’s what you really mean,’ I thought.
Art is so needlessly political nowadays. Even the lovely Paper Boy, with his 'Andrew Yang for President’ album release party is guilty of politicizing his art.
However, Andrew Yang is the only acceptable candidate for Paper Boy's support because Paper Boy is as unique on the surface as Andrew Yang: an Asian, Democrat and businessman. They both defy categorization, have agreeable personality types, and aren't obsessed with sex-politics.
Subscribe to Paper Boy Prince
Saturday, October 5, 2019
Xenophobe
I’m “xenophobic.”
When I see foreigners I think “go the fuck back to your own country, you fucking asshole.You don’t belong here.”
That is my gut reaction to all foreigners. No matter their accent, their skin color, their religion, their ethnicity etc etc. This is especially true for Western Europeans or Austrailians.
However:
I have a soft spot for foreigners that learned to speak English before arriving and making themselves useful to this country by marrying an American, having American children, and renouncing the citizenship of their previous nation. (Having a job in STEM also very helpful for my approval, but not mandatory.)
And I have a soft spot for foreigners that seek asylum and are granted asylum and learn to speak English before arrival or shortly after arrival. Hopefully, their children will be American, and their children’s children.
On a purely moral level I have a soft spot for actual migrants escaping cartel violence. Seeking economic reprieve is less noble morally, unless a family must be supported, and I have a moral soft spot for these people too, though it is still politically illegal. Politically, their own nation is failing them, and politically it is not America’s responsibility to take care of them. It is not America’s responsibility to take care of its own citizens either (though they are first in line if they do need assistance), but rather to protect and defend their God given rights.
American citizens are very lucky to be born in America because America was founded with these principles in mind, and traditionally upheld them. (This is why Americans are so generous. Prosperity helps.) The countries from which these migrants are escaping DO NOT protect their citizen’s natural rights. Generous Americans want to help them, but there is no feasible way to do so without causing harm to fellow Americans either by rising crime, rising taxes, etc.
The disintegration of a nation is very slow, and takes generations. For me, it doesn’t matter how useful a person can be, unless they are willing to sacrifice their citizenship, they shouldn’t be given citizenship. It’s all or nothing. That is how a country is preserved for future generations.
Until recently, most European nations enforced their borders and their culture. Then they took it too far, blew themselves up, and then they took it too far in the other direction.
That's no longer an excuse, and I have no sympathy for Europeans that come to America from nations with longstanding traditions of economic stability, ie since the end of the second world war, 70 years ago.
Stay in your own country! Make your own country great! Keep your culture and your problems to your own border! Don’t come to our country and make the competition more difficult for Americans, who already have to compete with one another for jobs!
America is not heaven. Competition for jobs still exists between average people. You fucking assholes.
I'm talking about Australians, Irish, English, Canadians especially. The ones I know that are single, young, come here on a Visa, stay for three years, then go back to Australia. It is nothing but a prolonged vacation. Why bother? They are just stealing a job that an American can otherwise work, and more so deserves to work because they were born in this country!
I’m not a ‘phobe, ok? I’m not afraid of foreigners. They are already here, in NY, there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not going to live my life in fear, that's stupid.
Another question that I will not answer here is: why are there so many foreigners--people with accents from foreign places--working for the city in public unions? I have seen nationalities from Russians, Jamaicans, Bengali working as meter maids. Just asking...seems suspicious….
And:
Am I a hypocrite because my ancestors immigrated from Italy? No, and not just because I'd still be considered 'xenophobic' had I lived as an American at the time of their arrival.
They did it legally, and with the intention of becoming American by staying in America and starting a life in America for their future generations to continue to prosper and contribute to America so that their future generations could prosper and contribute etc.
And they did that. And thus I am a proud American that is threatened by new foreigners.
Threatened. Not afraid. Fear is weakness, and "phobias" are meant to make people with legitimate concern for their jobs--and nation--sound insane and unreasonable.
It’s not a phobia. It's contempt, ok? Contempt is a sin and I’m working on that. You happy now?
When I see foreigners I think “go the fuck back to your own country, you fucking asshole.You don’t belong here.”
That is my gut reaction to all foreigners. No matter their accent, their skin color, their religion, their ethnicity etc etc. This is especially true for Western Europeans or Austrailians.
However:
I have a soft spot for foreigners that learned to speak English before arriving and making themselves useful to this country by marrying an American, having American children, and renouncing the citizenship of their previous nation. (Having a job in STEM also very helpful for my approval, but not mandatory.)
And I have a soft spot for foreigners that seek asylum and are granted asylum and learn to speak English before arrival or shortly after arrival. Hopefully, their children will be American, and their children’s children.
On a purely moral level I have a soft spot for actual migrants escaping cartel violence. Seeking economic reprieve is less noble morally, unless a family must be supported, and I have a moral soft spot for these people too, though it is still politically illegal. Politically, their own nation is failing them, and politically it is not America’s responsibility to take care of them. It is not America’s responsibility to take care of its own citizens either (though they are first in line if they do need assistance), but rather to protect and defend their God given rights.
American citizens are very lucky to be born in America because America was founded with these principles in mind, and traditionally upheld them. (This is why Americans are so generous. Prosperity helps.) The countries from which these migrants are escaping DO NOT protect their citizen’s natural rights. Generous Americans want to help them, but there is no feasible way to do so without causing harm to fellow Americans either by rising crime, rising taxes, etc.
The disintegration of a nation is very slow, and takes generations. For me, it doesn’t matter how useful a person can be, unless they are willing to sacrifice their citizenship, they shouldn’t be given citizenship. It’s all or nothing. That is how a country is preserved for future generations.
Until recently, most European nations enforced their borders and their culture. Then they took it too far, blew themselves up, and then they took it too far in the other direction.
That's no longer an excuse, and I have no sympathy for Europeans that come to America from nations with longstanding traditions of economic stability, ie since the end of the second world war, 70 years ago.
Stay in your own country! Make your own country great! Keep your culture and your problems to your own border! Don’t come to our country and make the competition more difficult for Americans, who already have to compete with one another for jobs!
America is not heaven. Competition for jobs still exists between average people. You fucking assholes.
I'm talking about Australians, Irish, English, Canadians especially. The ones I know that are single, young, come here on a Visa, stay for three years, then go back to Australia. It is nothing but a prolonged vacation. Why bother? They are just stealing a job that an American can otherwise work, and more so deserves to work because they were born in this country!
I’m not a ‘phobe, ok? I’m not afraid of foreigners. They are already here, in NY, there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not going to live my life in fear, that's stupid.
Another question that I will not answer here is: why are there so many foreigners--people with accents from foreign places--working for the city in public unions? I have seen nationalities from Russians, Jamaicans, Bengali working as meter maids. Just asking...seems suspicious….
And:
Am I a hypocrite because my ancestors immigrated from Italy? No, and not just because I'd still be considered 'xenophobic' had I lived as an American at the time of their arrival.
They did it legally, and with the intention of becoming American by staying in America and starting a life in America for their future generations to continue to prosper and contribute to America so that their future generations could prosper and contribute etc.
And they did that. And thus I am a proud American that is threatened by new foreigners.
Threatened. Not afraid. Fear is weakness, and "phobias" are meant to make people with legitimate concern for their jobs--and nation--sound insane and unreasonable.
It’s not a phobia. It's contempt, ok? Contempt is a sin and I’m working on that. You happy now?
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