All posts by X Teri

An Unwise Mix of Weird

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My most inspired Saturday-morning creation, for my wife, who has shown the greatest aversion to what I’ve named “Hipster Santa.”

We rarely see commercials on TV, but when we do, it’s invariably the new Fiat ones with James Franzo as hot Santa.

They are absolutely terrible commercials.

Which means, of course, I love them.

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With no offense intended toward those who are cosmetologists: this is a social metaphor for behavioral criticisms..

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True story: I started an impromptu game of Elevator-Cash-Cab yesterday. When 4 people were on the elevator with me, I played host to the game. I offered $20 to anyone who could tell me how long it takes light (within a 200% margin of error) to reach us from the nearest star. I kept the $20, after being surprised at the answers. (PS: the sun is the nearest star. And ‘light year’ is a measure of distance, not time.) Yes, I play Elevator-Cash-Cab. I think random people doing this in public elevators would be a magnificent way to make life a little better.

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I wonder how Google Analytics and the FB algorithm is interpreting my multiple magnitude increase in fascist-authoritarian-nazi searches since the election. I feel like I’m inadvertently participating in a real-life reenactment of the “American History X” movie when seeing the news – and it Is my teeth stretched across the curb waiting for Edward Norton’s character to stomp the back of my head.

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It is as we all feared: knowledge is an anachronism and facts are simply opinions. Please forgive me as I make a fortune being a con man. I’m not certain that I’m joking. The elevation of crass stupidity has met me halfway along the road. I shake my head so often now that I look like the lead singer of an “Achy-Breaky-Heart” revival cover band.

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During the slanted hours of insufficient December sunlight, “Holocene” by Bon Iver is a testament to both style and content. At 4 a.m. on a solitary drive to a mindless rendezvous with trading my life’s scarcity of seconds for the vague and unsatisfactory value of a few dollars, this song is a masterpiece of self-reflection. It doesn’t sway me from turning into the lifeless parking lot filled with mundane assurances of more of the same , but it reminds me that the sum total of whatever ‘it’ is in life that is so valuable is scampering away from me, one subtle word and choice at a time. I could see for miles, miles, miles…

As this song played, I put down the driver window, low against the freezing and invasive cold. I looked across the long valley and the familiar road and noticed the brilliance of the lights to the West. In that transitory moment, I recognized a new vista previously unheeded, and a new appreciation for the mystery of the way a song not only reveals melody, but ourselves.

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Santa / Papa Noel Advisory: During the recent Russian-Putin cyberhack, it was revealed that Santa’s “Naughty & Nice” list was leaked. I discovered that I can skip by with 3 additional Acts of Shenanigans, Chicanery, & Mischief before the 24th – and still qualify to awake on the 25th to a bountiful xmas tree filled with exotic minimalist yuletide surprises.
Therefore, let it be known that if a series of disconcerting actions transpire in the next few days, it is because I am being mindful of the necessity of using all my allotted shenanigans under the “Naughty & Nice” bylaws. Thanks, Santa!

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When someone tells me I’m crazy, I usually give them the “NS,S” look of incredulity, because I know that they know that I know they probably eat raw meat when no one is looking. Because the first sign you are equally the problem is that you are trying to engage in conversation with a person that you claim to be crazy – which means you speak their language. Ergo, you’re as nuts as I am.

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The “Predator” movie made us imagine that aliens could be lurking all around us, intent on our slow destruction. Then, I come to reality and remember how many people voted as if an ultra-high dose of LSD hit their system – and I long for the vengeful aliens to distract me from the reality tv show of politics.

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For an anonymous friend, who paradoxically instilled in me the overwhelming desire to take a LOT of selfies while standing on train tracks.

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My wife & I had great fun watching our cat Güino dive-bomb the office window chasing a bird-feeder-thieving squirrel until he passed out. Because this is Springdale, though, we then watched a very pretty chicken drive him even crazier by scavenging, in open defiance of our feline protector, in the front yard. I threw seed out for the chicken to ensure that the cat would know no peace this peaceful Saturday morning. The chicken wanted to walk through the front door, so it evidently doesn’t understand the concept of fried.

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Tenuous Life

On the 10th, a young boy was killed by a falling tombstone while frolicking in a cemetery, near a church where a birthday was being celebrated. People die taking selfies on train tracks. Despite being expert pilots, they die from foolish errors with their parachutes, falling into the houses of unsuspecting people on the ground, even as they look and attempt to understand what just happened. They die from undiagnosed and treasonous illnesses, or due to a fall from a cliff while hiking, from someone failing to heed a stop sign in the deep dark before dawn, or due to carelessness with guns they believe to be unloaded, or from a repeat offender drinking too much and hurling a family member through the windshield.

Unlike so many others, I know the harsh lesson of life being snatched unexpectedly. It has discolored my perception and is so much an integral part of me that I constantly forget that most people’s brush with mortality is one associated with waiting by a dimly-lit bedside or with a phone call, distant from the pressing reality of someone’s passing.

We are all a convoluted and diminished story to someone else, even as the clocks of our lives fail to tick more loudly as our turn on the carousel approaches. We see that time passes but increasingly fail to hear the drum of its methodical warning.

As a lover of stories, I do sometimes forget that the story itself masks an entire span of a life. I can get up, peek through the blinds of my windows to the world, and observe it, wondering what surprises might await me. I don’t look out in fear of what might greet me, because the millions of minutes that have been gifted to me add up to an astonishing array of life. I’m not so stupid as to misunderstand that to live to any age is an accomplishment and that another chapter is always possible, no matter how ridiculous the upcoming plot to the story.

But I do hear the ticking and laugh inappropriately at what others shout out as danger. It’s not my intention; it is hard-wired into my neurons in the same way that bacon calls you out of bed in the morning.

Danger is literally in every pore and molecule of our frail lives.

If the piano is going to fall from the upper-story window above me, all I ask that it hits me, oblivious, and that it plays a discordant musical chord as it hits me like the anvil in the Road Runner cartoon.

I give you permission to laugh at its absurdity. It might be the only honest reaction to the insistent barrage of compiled moments I’ve accumulated.

X-Mas (Yes, That Post Again…)

Each yuletide season, I preemptively cringe at the ‘Don’t spell it Xmas’ tirades. As an expert on the ante-penultimate letter of the English language, I can once again tell you the ‘X’ in Xmas represents ‘Christ’ in Greek. It’s been used that way for centuries – and has nothing to do with the conspiracy theory to secularize Christian observance of the day as Jesus’ birthday. Repeating a non-truth serves no purpose other than to indicate you don’t understand. And if you attack me from ignorance for writing ‘Xmas,’ you are offending both truth and the spirit of the very prophet who you esteem. Fill your heart with lovingkindness and avoid pointing culpable fingers at imagined insults.

The Exile Returns

On a quiet Saturday evening, I see another friend, one pushed into in a narrow world by current events, finally emerging from her self-imposed cocoon. Her world is utopian; it’s not tinged by the presence of fact-free decisions, nor colored by those with more privilege placing blame on the ‘other.’

KKK to her equals ‘Knowledge, Kindness, and Kin,’ rather than the ongoing slippery slope of fear and anger shaping policy. Spiritual matters are indeed eternal but they are likewise tempered by our perpetual need to learn, improve, grow, and move away from the narrow lines we’ve been drawing. People matter more than policy, even if a few pennies roll away from us – and territories are all ephemeral in the scheme of things. Whether your kingdom is here or in another invisible realm, it is wise to remember that each of us is convinced of our own veracity.

It is no dishonor to kneel down and catch your breath. Really, it is the only way to win.

But for her, I suspect it is not a zero-sum game, nor one in which everyone must be placed in columns of winners and losers.

Welcome back.

Remember, just because people are shouting in your living room doesn’t mean you must offer them a glass of iced tea

A Thanksgiving

To have a hand in the darkness, or a still voice inquiring about your day, even a dismissive eye roll at your anticipated joke, these are the only required components for a thankful life; all else is but a pale reflection of a dim sunset in a curtained corner window. Were but the day not necessary to halt us in our collective haste, that the calendar should not chime the occasion for us to artificially pause in appraisal of our life’s balance. That thanksgiving could be exchanged for an unwieldy dose of awareness of whatever already satisfies us. As a stranger in your land, I only ask that you consider that the things which bind you to your life are proven only in the moments in which you doubt them the most. – X

Only Time

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We capriciously ask for things, though our greatest gift is ticking past us, moment by moment. Even with the briefest of pauses and with the most minuscule of sideways glances, time slithers past, confiscating the only irreplaceable measure of us.

A Word…

I don’t claim to speak for the majority because my reality is warped in a way that people of my tribe look at me with constant bewilderment. Each opinion I offer is a treasonous jab toward the expectations of others who look and sound like me.

I love fried chicken minus the skin but fully understand the horror vegetarians experience when considering the implications of the meat industry. I like knowing I won’t have to jump a wall to enjoy a great life but I fully feel the agony of wanting a better life in a country next door while being squashed by the bureaucracy of governments drawing imaginary lines on our globe. I know that I was born to be biologically attracted to the opposite sex but understand that the same biology which conveys so much majesty and pleasure in the world is responsible for assigning these attractions. I speak another language yet feel the fear of being unable to express the nuances of life and the necessities of a mundane world with words that are both functional and poetic. Because I’m white and a male, I can casually blend in with my own dysfunctional beliefs about god, spirituality and morals without the assumption that I harbor terrorist threats in my heart. Because I’m dedicated to learning and changing my opinion based on new evidence, I shake my head at those who deny science, even if it sometimes errs.

I stand in my own world, surrounded by the people of my tribe and to any casual observer, I align perfectly. But inside the universe of my own personal mind, clouded in the essential invisible ways that make me truly an individual, I am often solitary, looking around in my own astonishment at those who fail to see the blanket of privilege with which they warm themselves.

In another possible version of me, I would have a different skin, a different religion, and much different opportunities. I would knock on doors and fail to understand why I went unheeded. An outstretched hand is one needing humanity’s answer. So often, though, we engage our ideas and bettered position to justify all manner of disregard towards those who are only pursuing a full life.

Our cups run over and yet we look into our neighbor’s cup, wondering why they might hold one of unequal measure. The question is not one of merit, as fickle circumstance can strip any of us of our certainty and blanket, regardless of who we are.

We shut our curtains to the image of our own undoing.

As always, “we” are the “other,” even as our mirrors continue to participate in our delusion.

Trump’s Omen

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In honesty, I made this with great care, not even intending to insult or ridicule. It’s a portent and omen of our misguided belief that we can use anger and fear to change anything, no matter how broken, into something positive.

If you look in the center, you can see another face apart from Trump, representing the untamed thing that Trump birthed during his campaign. He is merely the figurehead, having tapped into an ancient fear of the ‘other.’ It’s not Trump nor Trump ‘the man’ per se which will be our challenge – it is the valve he opened into people’s hearts. We can only hope that we can navigate the murkiness that could envelop all of us.

Populists are dangerous for specific reasons, tending to overtake the ideas they originally espouse.

Rising rivers seldom take heed of what’s in their paths – and collectively, we are capable of much harm to one another.

A Long List of Crazy!

A joke to open this list of craziness:

I think that Mike Pence’s office just trolled me.

The phone rang and I reluctantly answered.

“Is this X Teri?” It was a man’s voice, full of authority.

“Yes, yes it is,” I answered, waiting to hear what was being sold.

“Are you interested in making some money, sir?” He sounded serious.

“Uh… yes, I am. What do I have to do?” I was halfway sold by this point.

“X, ignorance has went up $50 a barrel and we’d like to pay for drilling rights to your head.”

After that, the call went dead. I could swear I heard a faint laugh, though.
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“It’s only natural that we’ll have a super-moon tonight; the electoral college just chose the biggest ass to represent us.” – X
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Julia, my mother-in-law, had hair that was in such a bad shape that when she accidentally got lost in the dog show, her hair won “Best in Poodle.”
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They asked me to be nice and to turn down the snark. Evidently, they now believe in “TURN-THE-OTHER-TONGUE-IN-CHEEK.”
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“If you listen closely to people, you’ll have a headache.” – X
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It’s strange that we went from fact-checking to ad-libbing to now decrying that every opinion is equally valid.
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There are some who say the election was basically Ford Vs. Chevy, which is bizarre to me. I’ve never seen a Ford that insisted on electroshock therapy to take the gay away or one which refuses to start if you’re Muslim.
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Imagine if American Indians had passed better Immigration Laws, especially in regards to orange people. – X
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Regarding Roundabouts: Only in America will people complain that driving in a circle is too hard – and then do everything to prove it.
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I tried to get excited about high school football because I misunderstood the altitude adjective to mean something entirely different.
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The Durden Potts Rule: word diarrhea rarely amplifies the point or improves the reputation of the person making it.
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While I am generalizing, I’ve noticed that most people who blame racism on the media also tend to be the same subset of people who are likely racist.
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The guy who posted it said he wasn’t being racist – but he insisted the Obama Presidency should be called “The Dark Age.” He literally is blind to the fact of how it sounds. But evidently not colorblind.
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According to Stan Lee, there is 20% chance that Trump is merely a super villain, trying to coax out Superman.
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For the 10 people in the United States who watch “Poldark” on PBS, it’s weird how in the UK Ross raped Elizabeth in the book and in the TV show, but it was completely removed for the U.S. edition. I was certain that the Trump candidacy removed that sort of consideration from our collective conscience.
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Now, instead, we must follow the Golden Drool.
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Apparently, this country is suddenly so white that even Team Edward thinks we’re all vampires. Weirdly, though, it’s eggshell white, because a lot of people are walking on them the last few days.
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Make no mistake, to get where you are right now, you had to shut an infinite number of doors, each an unchosen or rejected possibility.
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The pastor is so hateful toward liberals he wouldn’t even allow a donkey in the nativity scene.

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Many pundits speculate that Trump appealed to some because the dummies were tired of being made fun on. Maybe if they didn’t spend recess sewing Confederate flags, they wouldn’t get ridiculed. Does this comment help any?
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I am going to miss being able to buy black licorice.
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I’m starting a chain of addiction centers for masochists: they are MisTreatment Centers.
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We need a huge wall built, that’s true. Just not for the reasons the Trumpettes think. I’m hoping a town on the Mexican side re-names their town “New Berlin,” for the historical impact, later, when the wall of course comes down.
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The election was a type of Heavenly GPS – because a lot of people gave me directions on how to go directly to Hell.
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My wife and I were speeding past concrete lane blockers on the interstate. “I don’t like this wall,” my wife nervously commented. “Imagine how the Latinos feel, honey,” I replied.
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“People are always talking about ‘in the eyes of god,’ as if anyone should be so arrogant as to claim to know anything, much less what god wants or doesn’t want. Great people violently disagree about what god is saying.” -The Old Man Chronicles
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On a friend’s FB wall recently, she posted about peace and civility. Every single person on her page commenting was someone I had unfriended at least once for being the exact opposite of a good human being. I had to laugh. Being an outsider grants perspective that dogma doesn’t.

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Are you in the house of god or is the house of god in you?
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As for excusing away social injustice: It ain’t called “whitewash” for no reason.
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There’s nothing like sports analogies to remind people that even if you get the most points, somehow you not only lose, you get kicked off the team and deported.
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“My ignorance has just as much right to be here as your knowledge.” -overheard 67 times this week – at least that’s what Google Translate told me when I pasted the ignorance others wrote, for clarification. It kept switching the preferred language from “English” to “Trump,” though.
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“Religion? It could be the best thing in the world! For too many, though, it’s just a word to let them judge you and tell you what to do. Religion lets you reach a conclusion without having to work for it. If you have a religious idea which allows you to treat someone in a way you wouldn’t want for yourself, that’s delusion, not religion.” –The Old Man Chronicles
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“You Are Not Stuck In Traffic. You Are Traffic” It’s a cool way to say you are part of the problem, no matter how much you deny it. I think the same goes for those people who complain about the state of the current political process. They don’t even see that they are the ones driving, banging on the steering wheel, wondering why so many people are frozen in front of them.
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Trump inauguration song lyric: “Tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 1959.”
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I knew that church wasn’t for me when I noticed a skull and crossbones above the door.
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Trump was asked what was his favorite golden oldies song is. Without hesitation he replied, “(David) Duke of Earl.”
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New Education Slogan: A nation doing long division cannot stand.
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Weirdly enough, the Election Commission invited Trump’s team to help count votes. They quit after 15 minutes, however, because they ran out of available fingers to do the tabulation.
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So many complain on social media about participation trophies instead of clear winners and losers. Yet, that is exactly what Donald Trump got on election night. He came in second but got the trophy anyway , all because the United States used to believe that slavery and owning other people was a really neat idea.
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“You can spend your life arguing about what your book means. But be humble, nice, compassionate, love as many people as you can. Doing life that way will get you further than all the ‘things you are sure of’ will ever get you. You can’t be a great person by focusing on being right. ” –The Old Man Chronicles

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Isn’t it strange that a residual effect of slavery (the Electoral College) took the election from the majority who wanted to carry on the legacy of the first black president by electing the first woman?
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Trump has a lot in common with immigrants. He’s going to be our (p)resident alien.
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The term ‘casual homophobia,’ much like the term ‘business casual,’ is code for ‘no one can be comfortable.’
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I wonder how it would have went if Hillary Clinton had captured the illustrious KKK endorsement.
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Why is it that we can watch movies like “Next of Kin” wherein a dead person’s family will avenge a death at any cost, including driving a thousand miles, walking through Kentucky swamps, and breaking every law on the books, but somehow we don’t see the connection when we are dropping bombs overseas.
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Of all my social media friends, most people complaining about peaceful protests after the election are white folks. And most of them were horrified of Obama in 2009. Of course most of them aren’t racists. Enough are, however, to risk getting painted with the same brush.
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On someone’s post, I wrote: “White people tend to worry about broken windows. Minorities tend to worry about broken heads.” It was wildly unpopular with the average Trump voter.
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For everyone in Springdale or NWA who ‘likes’ the “Live Springdale” page, many of you don’t know that the page is operated by an ultra-conservative who endorses only the right-wing candidates and ideas. It’s his page, of course, but it is certainly not something he advertises. It’ll save you some forehead-slapping if you recognize this now.
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According to many, god once commanded us to treat people of other colors as inferior. It is an easy thing to return to such nonsense – especially when the people around you are endorsing it.
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Dear Mr. Grandma: That’s how I started my congratulations letter to Trump.
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If the spurs jangle, then you are wearing boots.
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It’s reported that Mike Pence watched “Mississippi Burning” to learn more about race relations- until someone pointed out it was supposed to be a negative example rather than a blueprint.
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In a successful effort to disprove his own point, he started his defense by saying, “I’m no racist, but…”
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There are many people who will tell you “Hello, jerk!” and then protest when you complain, by defending themselves with the comment, “… but I said hello.”
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I’m not a Democrat or Republican: I’m liberal. I’m more liberal than anyone you can imagine, in part because I can be swayed by new information. The past isn’t an anchor that obligates me to try to impose it on a new world.
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It’s true, you should show Trump/Pence the same respect Obama’s haters gave him for 8 years. It’s only fair.
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Every time Trump mistreats someone, a reporter in San Diego would call and ask, “What motivated you to say that?” Trump would grumble and say, “The Golden Rule, of course. All my bigly moves are based on that. I’m a Christian, you know. I have a plaque in each of my offices to remind me. Mike Huckabee made them for me.”

Even after mocking the disabled reporter, Trump preemptively called the San Diego guy and said, “The Golden Rule guided me.”

4 years later, the San Diego reported got arrested and dragged to Trump’s headquarters and was thrown into a chair inside Trump’s private office.

The reporter laughed to himself as he looked up above Trump’s mantle, to the infamous “Golden Rule” plaque that had guided Trump all these years.

“Do unto others as you would do to your shelf.”
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Yet another goofy joke…

“I am the best at fast calculations,” Trump tells an advisor.

“OK, what is 888 time 438 divided by 5?”

“29!” Trump states.

“Ha ha, that’s wrong!”

“Might be, but it was fast!”

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Words have power. Many people asked me yesterday , “Why do you care? You’re not gay, Muslim, or any of those things which TP’s policies will harm. Shut up!”

I’ve noticed that anyone can get on ‘the list.’ Whether it is religion, sexual orientation or commitment to free expresion , you never know when your opinion might be unpopular. History has shown us that all significant changes start as radical ideas until they are suddenly accepted.

Because of words spoken during the campaign many Americans are scared of what the future will bring. I am fortunate enough to know that these concerns are both authentic and capable of being reality.

They look around to see their friends, family, and fellow Americans cheering the fact that we are rolling back humanity’s collective conscience.

Today it is ‘them.’ Tomorrow, who knows? I’m with them today, in the off chance I’ll be them tomorrow.

I don’t protest or seek to disrupt because I know that the same power of words which permit Trump to scare the country also allow me to be a part of the brighter future.

It’s so strange to see white heterosexual people with names like ‘Smith’ post that there’s nothing to worry about – that the election was just a choice, that the sun will still rise tomorrow, that America will not change for the worst. Being a white man is in itself a type of racism-proof vest. And few of them seem to understand that they are wearing one. -x

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911 system mysteriously overloaded today as nation collectively and subconsciously calls for help. Busy signal received. – X

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Pence, riding on the coattails of Trump’s surprise election, today announced that his new anti-LGBTQ initiative will outlaw actual rainbows. – X

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Even George Washington couldn’t resist editorializing today as Obama met with the 4th Horseman.

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The entire country is in a collective episode of “What Would You Do?” And some of us are going to have a really bad after interview trying to explain what in the heck we were doing.

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This time, I decided to do all the graphics work myself, little by little. I had a 16 X 20 wrapped canvas made and framed to my specifications, using my artwork, and including a questionable quote from “Breaking Bad,” one of the best TV shows to ever ponder the duality of mankind’s nature. (Thus the black/white, nature vs. nurture theme of my work.) It turned out beyond my expectations. My wife loved the look, but immediately noted the usage of the word ‘bastard’ in this context.

As for me, I think many of us are going to be introspective in the future, cautiously anticipating the potential expression of our lesser natures.

Love, X

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