ArtsyFartsy--Poetry, Politics and Poppycock

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

How to Make Friends and Influence People

Republican Party members probably wish Donald Trump’s Twitter account could be revoked by the GOP because of the damage he’s done to the GOP and to his own campaign for President of the United States and the downstream chances for other GOP candidates. He is like three-day old fish except he can’t be thrown out or put in the garbage or like when visitors finally leave.

When November 8 comes, there will be plenty of GOP supporters voting Democrat for president when they are “behind closed doors.” Those reluctant endorsements will fade like the self-estimated billions he claimed, but never appeared for his supported campaign for the Presidency. The following is a compilation of insults from the New York Times.

“These comments are not private thoughts. Nor are they the results of an embarrassing hidden camera, an off-the-record comment of a document release. They are public statements made by Donald Trump to his 5.9 million Twitter account followers.

We know all of this because we’ve read, tagged and quoted them all.

The result is "Donald Trump's Twitter Insults: The Complete List (So Far." It's not a sample of some insults, or just those about his political rivals--though plenty of those exist. It's the full count--a 100 percent sample, in polling terms--presenting out best effort to categorize more than 4,00 tweets Mr. Trump has made since he declared his candidacy in June 2015.

Of those we found, that one in eight was a personal insult of some kind.

Perhaps most predictable is Mr. Trump's propensity to insult other presidential candidates, both Republican and Democrats. (In Mr. Trump’s words, John Kasich is a "dummy" and Rick Perry "should be forced to take an IQ test.” Trump has not only insulted his Democratic competition but members of his own party. It doesn’t end there; he has also insulted powerful news organizations and political donors, the life blood of a presidential campaign. Below are a few hundred Tweets Trump unleashed on his opponents and fellow GOP members.

He has referred to Hillary Clinton as “crooked” more than 80 times from June up to August 23, 2016. He also referred to her as “totally incompetent as a manager and leader.” “Corrupt and dishonest” were among his favorite descriptions of Hillary Clinton. There have been more but the gist of his campaign has been attacking Clinton on a personal level not on any particular platform.”[1]

Political campaigns are often compared to bare knuckle fighting, but Donald Trump appears to have a limited vocabulary and real penchant for saying the wrong things at the right time. For instance Trump referred to Clinton as "crooked" more than 160 times in the last two months demonstrating a limited vocabulary or a constituency that "doesn't understand big words" like Trump showed his limited command of the English language. Here is just a small list of the times he referred to Clinton as crooked in the last 60 days complete with tags.

We know all of this because we've read, tagged and quoted them all.

Of those we found, that one in eight was a personal insult of some kind.

Perhaps most predictable is Mr. Trump's propensity to insult other presidential candidates, both Republican and Democrats. (In Mr. Trump's words, John Kasich is a "dummy" and Rick Perry "should be forced to take an IQ test."[2]

Bernie Sanders: “Did Bernie go home and go to sleep?” “He just wants to shut down and go home to bed!” “Waste of time” “totally sold out” “has done such a complete fold” “has totally given up on his fight for the people” “has lost his energy and his strength” “flamed out” “no energy left!” “exhausted” “exhausted” “SAD!” “just can't go on any longer” “ending really weak” “has abandoned his supporters” “selling out!” “not true to himself” “has totally sold out”

Joe Biden, Vice president of the United States: “not very bright”

Bill Clinton, Former president of the United States: “Highly overrated!”

Bill and Hillary Clinton: “spend millions on negative ads on me!”

Michael Nutter: Former Mayor of Philadelphia: “doing a terrible job” “low life” “a crude dope!”

Barack Obama, President of the United States: “disastrous judgment” “perhaps the worst president in the history of the United States!” “doesn't have a clue” “trying to destroy Israel with all his bad moves” “living in a world of the make believe!” “WEAK leadership”

Elizabeth Warren, United States Senator: “Sad to watch” “bombed last night!” “Pocahontas” “Pocahontas” “wanted V.P. slot so badly but wasn't chosen because she has done nothing in the Senate” “Pocahontas” “a very weak Senator” “Goofy” “Pocahontas” “Goofy” “the least productive Senator in the U.S. Senate” “Goofy” “goofy” “one of the least productive senators”

Bill de Blasio: Mayor of New York City: “the worst mayor in the United States” “disgrace” “worst mayor in the United States” “his ineptitude” “probably the worst Mayor in the history of #NYC”

The GOP: If there is one place Trump would seem to hold his tongue it would seem to be the Republican Party, but obviously that’s not so. Many that say they support Trump are going to vote across the line just because of the continued insults. Here is a sampling of what Trump had to say about his own Party and some of its high-profile members.

REPUBLICAN PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATES

Jeb Bush, Former Florida Republican Governor: “no honor!” “failed presidential candidate” “low energy” “just got contact lenses and got rid of the glasses. He wants to look cool, but it's far too late” “Just another clueless politician!” “hypocrite” “has no clue” “failed campaign” “How can @JebBush beat Hillary Clinton- if he can't beat anyone else on the #GOPDebate stage with $150M?” “lightweight”

Ted Cruz, United States Senator: “Lyin', he should drop out of the race-stop wasting time & money” “Sad!” “Made all sorts of crazy charges” “really went wacko today” “Lyin'” “Can't function under pressure” “not very presidential” “Lyin', can never beat Hillary Clinton” “has NO path to victory” “can never beat Hilary Clinton” “Lyin'” “desperate” “weak”

Lindsey Graham, United States Senator: “no honor!” “failed presidential candidate” “in the end he had no support” “I ran him out of the race like a little boy” “ALL TALK AND NO ACTION!” “nasty!” “Failed presidential candidate”

Bobby Jindal, Former Louisiana Governor: “spent $1,000 to register in New Hampshire & dropped out the next day. Such a waste!” “lightweight”

Michael Bloomberg, Former Mayor of New York City: “Little” “never had the guts to run for president” “his last term as mayor was a disaster!”

Karl Rove, Former Deputy White House Chief of Staff: “a failed Jeb Bushy” “Never says anything good & never will” “Shouldn't be on the air!” “should be fired!” “sick” “loser” “so biased” “unfair” “still thinks Romney won” “dummy”

The Republican establishment: “Dishonest” “failing” “could not stop Obama (twice)” “out of self-preservation, is concerned w/ my high poll #s”

The Republican Party Political Party: “getting ready to treat me unfairly”

The Republican Party of Virginia: “total mess” “stupid” “be smart and win for a change” “has lost statewide 7 times in a row” “suicidal” “BAD!”

The mainstream media: “dishonest” “corrupt” “dishonest” “My rallies are not covered properly”

NEWS ORGANIZATIONS

Politico: “almost everybody quitting” “in total disarray” “bad, dishonest journlists” “Losing too much money. Great news!” “going out of business” “Bad reporting- no money, no cred!” “no credibility” “3rd rate $ losing” “some very untalented reporters” “Losers!” “pure scum”

Vanity Fair: “has lost almost all of it's former allure” “failing”

The Wall Street Journal: “bad at math, nobody cares what they say in their editorials anymore, especially me!” “seldom has a paper been so wrong” “failing” “so dishonest” “purposely mischaracterized my statement” “failing” “so totally wrong” “dummies” “so wrong, so often” “loves to write badly about me” “some of the dumbest people on television work for the Wall Street Journal” “looks like a tabloid” “ever-dwindling”

The Washington Post: “dishonest” “phony” “tax scam” “inaccurate” “dishonest reporting” “bad” “loses a fortune”

The Weekly Standard: “small and slightly failing magazine”

TELEVISION SHOWS

Meet the Press: “totally biased against me” “did a 1 hour hit job on me today” “totally biased and mostly false” “Dishonest” “very dishonest” “terrible ratings” “ratings starved”

Morning Joe: “unwatchable!” “low-rated” “sad & irrelevant!” “low ratings” “SAD!” “little watched” “Gone off the deep end” “Nobody is watching” “bad ratings” “low ratings!” “Small audience” “They misrepresent my positions!” “rapidly fading” “off the rails” “waste of time” “so off”

CNN New Day: “treats me very badly” “not going to watch anymore”

FOX News Program, The O'Reilly Factor”: “why don't you have some knowledgeable talking heads on your show for a change” “Boring!”

Perhaps Trump is right that the world is against him, but the way he’s gone about fixing that seems to be out of proportion to his manifestations. Democrats will vote Democrat in the upcoming election, what Republicans that have been insulted and derided will do is another thing. Memories are long and most people don’t take kindly to insults to them or their families. Entire organization, often bolt the coop behind closed doors.

Trump’s descriptions and charges against the media are suicidal. He is literally falling on his sword in nearly every interview. The press can make or break you as a politician and Trump has angered enough reporters, pundits and personalities that indeed he may have unintentionally turned the spot on himself. Either way as this short list shows, Trump’s loose lips could sink ships in the rough seas of global politics.

[1] The 250 People, Places and Things Donald Trump has Insulted on Twitter: A Complete List, Jasmine C. Lee and Kevin Quealy, Updated July 29, 2016

[2] The 250 People, Places and Things Donald Trump has Insulted on Twitter: A Complete List, Jasmine C. Lee and Kevin Quealy, Updated July 29, 2016

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Making Music (written by me as a woman, I need feedback)

Music at Fort Knox

I knew it was going to be a long night when he walked in the door, but to be fair, he was everything Karen promised. He was tall and slim with nut-brown skin and not unattractive. However, when he opened his mouth to say hello, I crossed Karen off my list of friends. Charles Roosevelt Cameron had a mouth full of gold teeth that made his tongue look like it was at Fort Knox and one of his eyes looked everywhere in the place except at me. On top of that, his breath was strong enough to hold hostages. I could see this could turn into one of the longest nights of the year. Still, he was mannerable and very nice. I had no idea that my blind date with Fort Knox would change my thinking about men and make me take a closer look at myself and who I was.

Charles Roosevelt Cameron may have been a disappointment but he knew his way around the music scene and unknowingly he saved the evening from being a total loss, even though I nearly passed out twice because of his breath.

We went to a small jazz club called “Vamp” on the east side. “Vamp” was best described as uptown modern. The lighting was subdued, but it was not dark. I could clearly make out the polished aluminum molding and fixtures along with the “throwback” black leather furniture. On the dropped level stage, a quartet led by a tall soprano saxophonist dressed in a mid-length dashiki was doing a version of Grover Washington and Bill Withers’ “Just the Two of Us.”

Everyone seemed to know Fort Knox because we were seated center stage. Charles ordered drinks and we set in relative silence just listening to the band as they breezed through several old standards and a couple of cuts from their own CD. We applauded politely when they finished their set.

“I see you like jazz,” Fort Know said.

“I’ve always been a fan. My father played for years before giving it up to teach,” I said.

“Where does he teach?” Charles asked.

“At the city university,” I answered.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Vamp is proud to present Sonnet recording artist, the prince of the night, give it up for Niles Long,” the announcer broke in.

The place came alive with applause and whistling fans. I hadn’t realized there were so many people in the place until I heard the clapping. All of the lights went down until the entire club was dark. The murmur of the crowd mixed with the clinking of glasses rose until a single spotlight shined a circle of light over the edge of the black Yamaha piano, illuminating an empty piano stool. In the anxious silence, a small bronze-skinned man stepped into the circle of light.

The crowd went silent. Without a word, the man sat and began playing an up-tempo riff. I watched in fascination as his hands danced across with the practiced ease of a virtuoso. As he drifted from one piece into another, I watched and listened with rapt attention. When the song ended, he stood and stepped to the house microphone.

Dressed in black, Niles Long stepped from the darkness into the main spotlight. Now that I could see him clearly, he wasn’t what I expected. His skin was the color of amber and his face was framed by a neatly trimmed beard which ended abruptly where his shaved head began and—he was short. He couldn’t have been more than 5’7”, which would make him about three inches shorter than me without my heels.

Under the spotlight, his skin now glowed amber.

“I’m Niles Long and I thank you for this night,” he said in a soft voice night.

With that, he walked to the piano, pulled out the stool, sat down and promptly launched into an up-tempo version of “This Masquerade.” The crowd clapped wildly, apparently quite familiar with this version of the song. Occasionally, the spotlight ricocheted off his clean scalp or the diamond stud in his ear.

Without missing a beat he segued into a version of Johnny Gil’s “My, My, My” that silenced the entire venue. For a moment, he opened his eyes and looked directly at me. Behind the thin rimless rectangle glasses, his onyx eyes seemed remote, distant like he was communing with someone who wasn’t there. I felt as if he touched me in that instant, but when I blinked, his eyes were closed. For the next hour, he melted from one song into another, barely giving the audience a chance to applaud.

It was hard to believe so much music resided inside such a small man. He literally commanded the audience and the piano. As he played, an occasional satisfied smile slipped across his face and a sporadic “mmmm” escaped his lips. He was enjoying himself. It was hard not to be taken in by the sheer joy and emotional range of his playing.

I found him mildly attractive even though he wasn’t my type. I don’t particularly care for men with bald heads and most important he was far too short, but there was no denying the air of authority he displayed behind the keyboard. He had been playing nearly an hour without stopping, when, suddenly; the spotlight went black along with the music. Then just as suddenly as it stopped, the music started again and with an amber spotlight spraying down on him. The crowd loved the theatrics and applauded wildly.

At first, I didn’t recognize the tune, but after a few moments, I recognized “My Funny Valentine,” which was one of my favorite songs even though it was older than me. Each note he played stroked me gently along my ears and resonated inside of me. I crossed my legs and clenched them tight. My stomach was in my throat as he stroked the keys with a passionate delicacy, rolling, trilling and lightly manipulating the melody with the ardor of a consummate lover.

In the amber spot, his skin blended in and out focus with a life of its own. My palms were perspiring as I listened, totally captivated by the sound and the style. I felt light headed and I forgot that Fort Know was even at the table. In fact, he wasn’t at the table. He was gone and I had no idea of where he was or when he left the table. It embarrassed me. I looked around the club, but I didn’t see him. When I looked back at the stage, Niles Long was looking at me.

Even in the amber light, I could see the dark intenseness of his eyes. They were locked on mine in an onyx embrace I couldn’t shake and I didn’t want to. The black fire burned in his eyes and at that moment I was consumed.

Niles Long played 90 minutes without taking a 60-second break. When he finished, he finished abruptly, barely giving the audience a chance to catch its breath. He stood quickly as the house lights came up and bowed from the waist as the audience clapped loudly. When it was over, Charles mysteriously appeared, smiling and in good spirits.

“You really enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he asked.

I started to speak, but my words seemed locked up.

“That’s all right. Niles does that to people. He’s something, isn’t he?” he asked.

I found my words and answered, “That’s an understatement. He was fantastic. Great! I’m sorry. I don’t mean to carry on so. I’m sorry. Please forgive me?” I said.

“Nothing to forgive,” Charles answered.

“But we had . . .” I started.

“What? Had a date? Come on now. A blind date? Both of us know how it works, although I must say that for once Karen was right. You’re everything she said,” Charles said.

“I feel so bad. I didn’t . . .” I started again.

“There’s nothing to feel bad about. We both knew in the first five minutes that you and I were a bust, but I decided there wasn’t any reason we couldn’t have a good time,” Charles said.

“Well, I’ve had a good time and you have excellent taste in music,” I said.

“Thanks. I’m a musician myself, but nothing as serious as tonight. I just like to play. Funny, Niles and I started at the same time .” he started.

“You know Niles Long,” I asked, totally unaware of my rudeness.

“Of course,know him. He’s my cousin and we grew up across the street from each other. Would you like to meet him?” Charles asked.

Before I could answer he jumped out of his seat and headed toward the stage where a small crowd of people had gathered probably waiting for Niles Long to reappear. This was awkward, even though Charles seemed not to mind. In fact, he seemed almost anxious to be rid of me. Maybe I was the one who needed a favor. What had Karen told him? I could almost hear her telling Charles, “Please meet my friend for dinner and show her a good time. She’s desperate.”

The more I thought about it, the more I believed that I was a “mercy date.” It had been over a year since I even went out on a date and longer yet since I had been intimate with a man.

I’m not unattractive. I have a good figure. I’m firm in all the right places men like. I’ve caramel skin and stand just under 6’ tall. I admit that can be a problem, but most people say I’m cute, whatever that means. I just haven’t had good luck with men.

I was still thinking about the evening when Charles walked up with Niles Long. He was even shorter than I imagined and I could se that his dazzling smile was marred by a slight overbite. He still had on his stage clothes.

“Kelly Rivers this is my cousin and musician extraordinaire, Niles Long,” Charles said with a gold-capped smile.

“Just Niles,” he said in a quiet voice as he extended his hand to shake mine. I noticed the white gold band on his ring finger as I took his hand, which was warm and smooth.

“I really enjoyed your music tonight,” I said.

“Thank you,” he said with a subtle lisp. “I’m glad you could come.”

“Do you mind if I sit,” he asked.

“What? No, not at all. Please have a seat,” I said.

He sat, casually crossing his legs and clasping his hands at his knee where noticed he also wore a white gold band on the ring finger of his right hand. Charles had disappeared again, leaving Niles and I alone at the table. We sat there in comfortable silence until he spoke.

“Do you like fishing?” he asked.

The question threw me off balance. I was ready for “Do you come here often” or “How did you like my music,” but not a real question. When I looked up to answer, he looked directly into my eyes. His black eyes locked mine in place and I felt that same lightheaded feeling I had experienced earlier. The intensity of his eyes was almost palpable.

“I’ve never fished,” I stuttered.

“Never?” He asked and smiled.

“Never,” I said and returned the smile.

From there we launched into a discussion about wildlife and nature. I was amazed by his range of knowledge about other things other than music. He was a virtual encyclopedia. I had long forgotten that he wasn’t my type of man as he dazzled me with his crooked smile and a warped sense of humor.

“When I finish this tour, I’d like to come back here and spend some time getting to know you, if you don’t mind,” he said.

I couldn’t believe when I heard myself saying, “I’d enjoy that.”

“Would you mind if I called you when I’m traveling?” he asked

“Not at all,” I said. I knew then that I’d lost my mind.

Me and Karen and Men

“What we’re you thinking. You don’t know that man at all,” Karen said.

“I met him and talked with him,” I said.

“That ain’t nothing but coochie talking. What’s it been? Ten, eleven or twelve years?” She and laughed out loud.

“You got me on that one, but that’s not the case with this man. I feel that I already know this man,” I said.

“You don’t know any man. That’s why you’re in the shape you’re in right now,” Karen said.

“That’s not fair,” I snapped.

We’d had this conversation before and Karen was right. My choices in men left a lot to be desired. Somehow, I managed to pick men who mistreated and abused me. The last man I dated tried to rape me and the only reason he wasn’t successful was because he couldn’t hit as hard as me, but he hit hard enough to fracture my jaw.

Obviously, I swore off men after that, but after about six months my heart was ready to try again, only I didn’t know where to start after having so many bad ones in the past. I had many false starts—dates I didn’t show up for and dates I broke 15 minutes after making them. It wasn’t until Karen setup the blind date that I actually went and even then, it was because of her.

I was right about Charles. He was my “mercy date.” He went on a blind date with me primarily because of his friendship with Karen. It was just a way to get me out of the house in male company. I didn’t know it then, but there was another good reason Charles and I didn’t hit it off even though he turned out to be very sweet and a load of fun—he was gay.

“Jesus Kelly, the man’s a musician,” Karen said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked sharply.

“Don’t play stupid. It doesn’t look nice on you,” Karen said.

“I’m not,” I said.

“You know most musicians don’t exactly have a sterling track record when it comes to fidelity,” Karen said. “Most of them have two or three women in every city.”

“I don’t think that’s the case with Niles,” I said. “He’s not a typical musician.”

“You mean because he talked to you about fishing and teaching and didn’t ask you back to his room, that he doesn’t want your drawers?” Karen asked.

“I know most men want to have sex with you, but I didn’t sense that in him. He seemed more like we already had a relationship and sex was part of the deal, even though we came nowhere close to talking about it,” I said.

Niles Long was in all the magazines with a different woman in every picture. It was rumored that he had two illegitimate children and maybe even more. However, the most disturbing thing to me was the reports of violent incidents with women. I knew from reading that he had never been found guilty, but I believe where there is smoke, there’s fire. There had to be some truth in it.

From the outside, Niles Long wasn’t my kind of man. He was short and sharp. His face was a study in angles, blending from subtle curves to a 90-degree jaw. His voice was softer than mine and I could tell he was used to having things his way. I suspected he was temperamental and moody, two traits I couldn’t stand.

Physically, there wasn’t much there to attract me, except those eyes. His eyes smoldered with dark secret passion, desire and danger. I sensed an untamed physicality that was wild and predatory. Actually, it was more than his eyes. There was irreverence in his conversation and even in his playing. It was if he thumbed his nose at the rest of the world and that bothered me.

Rainy Days and Puppy Dogs

The rain beat like drum on my roof rasping my already aching head. Niles called from Chicago just before the rain started. It was a strange conversation. Although he called me, I did most of the talking. He was pleasant enough but he seemed agitated, like he had changed his mind about me.

He wouldn’t be the first man who had changed his mind about me. They were probably the ones who had been good to me because the ones who stayed weren’t worth a damn. Maybe Niles would only stay around long enough just to make me hurt.

Alone

“Alone,” that was the title of Niles’ new CD. The cover art was simple. The word “Alone” floated in the upper left-hand corner. Almost unnoticed in the lower right-hand corner in small letters, it said Niles Long. Looking off the cover was a black and white silhouette of Niles. Most of his face was in the shadows. Only his shaved head was clearly visible. The entire side of his face and head faded into darkness. Only the flash of a diamond solitaire dotted the darkness in a lonely sparkle.

The dark elegance of the cover art captured a soulful singleness in Niles. It showed a side of him that at once was more interesting and disturbing. The tracks were haunting I their simplicity, featuring Niles unaccompanied on acoustic piano. I didn’t recognize any of the tunes as any I heard at his performance. Some were wandering excursions into places most of us only whispered about. It was like secretly watching someone undress. Niles exposed himself with each track, until the title track.

It seemed “Alone” didn’t belong on the CD. Hidden under the soothing texture of the piano an angry and dark current flowed. I couldn’t help but think of his eyes, those eyes and how they captivated me. When the phone wrang I was on the precipice of self-pity. It was Niles.

“Hey baby, it’s Niles, “came a bright voice through the telephone. I’m sorry that I haven’t called as much as usual, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want to call, he said.

“I understand,” I said when I really didn’t.

“No, I could have found time to call and I should have,” Niles said. “I had my cell turned off the whole time I was there,” he said.

“Why,” I asked.

“My contract with HillSide expires in three months and I don’t think they are going to extend it. In fact, I know they’re not going to extend it,” he explained.

“What?” I asked. “How can they do that when you are the best-selling jazz artist they have?”

“Kelly, there’s little money in jazz these days and they know it and I know it,” Niles said. “

Niles went into detail about how he pulled together some of his favorite local musicians and recorded 15 tracks. They were in the studio until 4 am every day. In addition, after a few hours’ sleep, he was out shopping his new recording while his manager tried to call in favors from record executives he knew.

I didn’t what to think but I was glad that he would be home. I was also anxious to hear the new music he recorded. He promised me it would be something I never expected from him. In the year we had been seeing each other, Niles was always considerate and loving. I also let Karen know that the 12-year draught she teased me about was over. In fact, it was over three months after we started seeing each other.

I’m Coming Home

“What did you think of that,” Niles asked.

“I didn’t know what to say. It was so different.” I said.

“Different good or bad,” he asked.

Different good,” I responded. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

“I don’t do it much but my manager tells me it is one of my better assets,” he said.

“Your manager might just be right,” I said. “You changed your piano. I can tell the difference.

“I figured if we’re going after a younger audience then I needed break out of the worn out stuff I played. So, I borrowed an electric piano, rounded up some top-flight musician and put together what I am calling jazz funk,” he said, his eyes sparkling like they did when I first met him.

“I thought you might like it and I’m sure Karen would like it too,” he said. But, on a serious note, I needed to apologize and ask you to marry me,” he said.

I couldn’t move my lips. My tongue was stuck to the roof of the mouth. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought about it, but now here it was right in my face. I started crying and couldn’t turn off the tears enough to see Niles clearly. Finally, my tongue and brain synchronized and I said,

“Yes.”

The marriage was a simple affair and heart felt just as I imagined. We honeymooned in Aruba where Niles has less chance of being recognized, but there was always some jazz aficionado lurking in the crowd. Niles didn’t mind and neither did I.

Back in Style Again

It’s been twenty years now and we’re still going strong. Niles still records, but doesn’t tour as much because he wants to be home with our two children, Tasha and Niles Jr. After all this time, we’re still making music.

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Will Power

I played organized baseball until I was nearly 21 and I was good. I was an excellent infielder and a for average hitter.

A couple of days ago I saw something I hadn't seen before--a man carrying a pistol on his hip in the grocery store. I couldn't help myself because I broke out laughing right behind him.

This man was shorter than me and appeared to be in worse shape than me. I couldn't stop laughing. As much as I tried to fight off dark thoughts, they came anyway.

I wanted so badly to hit him in the back of his head with a baseball bat. He'd never see it coming and his pistol would still be holstered as I beat him to death and took his gun. You better be wearing rear view mirrors when you show what you have and where it is.

The license to carry a concealed weapon is certainly much more effective thwarting possible attacks simply because no one knows if you are carrying a weapon. Still, I couldn't get this man off my mind.

I ended up walking behind him to the parking lot chuckling all the way to my car. As I drove away, I wondered if he knew how vulnerable he made himself with a visible weapon.

Playing in a band took me to unsavory places. Too often, I heard someone announce they were going to get their gun and then proceed to get their ass whipped to the ground. Of course, nowadays the shooting would have started immediately.

Bad guys always figure it out and find ways to impose their will. I've always believed to know an enemy's plans by their behavior and take appropriate action to nullify it. As Machiavelli said, "If you must stab someone, be sensible about it and stab them in the back."

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

REVIEW: THE HATEFUL EIGHT

Already nominated for three Academy Awards, The Hateful Eight, directed by Quentin Tarantino, is a nominee for Best Cinematography, Best Actress in a Supporting Role and Best Original Score. “In The Hateful Eight, a few years after the Civil War, a bounty hunter is taking in a female outlaw in Wyoming when their stagecoach is stopped by a former Union officer and a Southerner. The quartet is then forced to seek shelter from a blizzard at a waystation, where four more travelers greet them, and as tensions rise, the eight realize that they may not all survive.” That’s all that needs to be said.

If you're not familiar with Quentin Tarantino movies, this might not be the best trainer, but for those familiar with his style this movie will not disappoint. First, there isn't a single character in the movie worthy of the label human. That’s only a small point considering the underlying plot.

The movie brings Tarantino’s dark humor tied together with graphic violence leaving the viewer unsure of who to cheer for if anyone at all. Of course, I cheered for Samuel L. Jackson, but he was just as rotten as the rest.

I’ll leave it at that and say, if you like Tarantino movies you’ll love this one. For those unfamiliar with his work—stay home and wait for it on pay-for-view or pick it up at Wal-Mart.