Out Of Reach

 "We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too."

I chose these words, not long ago, to highlight the indefatigable spirit of this great land of ours. I was echoing the sentiments of John F. Kennedy Jr. to remind us all what is possible when we set our minds and hearts together. We were on a mission. And yes, there were doubters, but we were coming together in a moment of strife. We did go to the moon. So many times that, for some, it became a bore. 

Fifty years later, we have a group of billionaires who, not unlike Charles Foster Kane, think "it would be fun to run a space program." The highlight of these excursions thus far has been taking the fictional Captain of the Starship Enterprise into outer space for real, and returning him to a massive fit of depression. Some might argue this is karma payback for all those times William Shatner, in the guise of James T. Kirk, thumbed his nose at convention and dared to boldly go blah, blah, blah. 

If it seems a little hypocritical of me to cast aspersions at Elongated Mush's lust for glory that is tied to the colonization of Mars, I can accept that. I can accept it because I will cop to just about anything that brings more attention to the fragile ego and overall creepiness of the man who never invented anything. He used his daddy's money to buy into growing concerns and acted like they were his ideas all along. 

This is why I was glad to have my favorite science guy and yours, Neil deGrasse Tyson make the following pronouncement on Bill Maher's show: “My read of the history of space exploration is such that we do big, expensive things only when it’s geopolitically expedient, such as we feel threatened by an enemy. And so for him to just say, let’s go to Mars because it’s the next thing to do. What is that venture capitalist meeting look like? ‘So, Elon, what do you want to do?’ ‘I want to go to Mars?’ ‘How much will it cost?’ ‘$1 trillion.’ ‘Is it safe?’ ‘No. People will probably die.’ ‘What’s the return on the investment?’ ‘Nothing.’ That’s a five minute meeting. And it doesn’t happen.”

Which, coming from a die-hard fan of space exploration myself, is still the kind of reality check that needs to happen a lot more often for puffy, arrogant know-it-all. Which reminds me of a quote from another great science guy, Isaac Asimov: :"Those people who think they know everything are a great annoyance to those of us who do."

Hey Elon: Go back to doing what you're really good at. Destroying Twitter and jumping up and down like a dork.  

Practice

 Okay kids, gather 'round the table. Let's all share the things for which we are thankful this year.

Crickets chirp.

A tumbleweed rolls by. 

Somewhere down the street, you can hear one of the neighbors drop a pin. 

This one is going to be extremely difficult. That's why I'm suggesting to look outward this year for the ritual that will be difficult on a day full of family and friends. You might even discover a previously undiscovered MAGA skeleton among your relations. 

"You know, having RFK Jr. in there will really help get our country's health back on the right track."

Or maybe, "I think it's high time we had a Department of Efficiency in our government, and who better to lead it than those two billionaires?"

You might even get, "I don't know if we gave Trump a chance back in 2016. Maybe we just need to be more open minded."

If these kind of conversation starters pop up during your holiday meal, feel free to do what I do whenever I see a Cybertruck anywhere in the world: Laugh out loud. Not just a "lol" but a full-on gut busting guffaw. One that might make the neighbors wonder if you might need to up your medication. As the freak show continues to assemble in anticipation of what will most likely be the most dysfunctional administration since the one headed by the convicted felon the first time. While I understand the impulse to mourn what might have been, please keep this foremost in your mind: Donald Trump has never won the popular vote in any election in which he has participated. The "mandate" of the people just isn't there. If that doesn't give you room for a hearty chuckle or at least another slice of pie, just remember Matt Gaetz no longer has a job. 

Signage

mace (noun 1) : an aromatic spice consisting of the dried external fibrous covering of a nutmeg

mace (noun 2) a: a heavy often spiked staff or club used especially in the Middle Ages for breaking armor

b: a club used as a weapon

mace (verb) : to attack with the liquid Mace

Mace (noun 3) : an irritant, used to drive people away and provoke unnecessary torment

Okay, with the definitions out of the way, let's talk bathrooms. Many of these meanings could and possibly will be important during this discussion. Let's begin with the election of 2024. You may be completely sick and tired of hearing about it, but there were a few bright spots. Sarah McBride became the first transgender person to be elected to Congress. Representing the Blue Hen State, ushering in a new age of equity and diversity in that august body. 

Sorry. I had to pause because of the sheer weight of the sarcasm inflected by that last sentence. 

Of course not. Suddenly everyone's concern went to the bathroom. The tired and ugly phrase "biological sex" was trotted out not just in an angry tweet or Facebook screed. This time it was a member of Congress who chose to make it her mission to cleanly avoid any discussion of gender and just plough straight into the hysterics about men invading "women's places." Her name is Nancy Mace. 

The representative from the Palmetto State decided to write a bill of her own to back up her position. Then she told anyone who would listen: “Sarah McBride doesn’t get a say. I mean, this is a biological man,” adding that McBride, "does not belong in women’s spaces, women’s bathrooms, locker rooms, changing rooms, period, full stop." Her plan, such as it is, invites the Sergeant At Arms of the House to enforce this petulant bit of legislation. It only took a few moments for the Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson, to fall in line with that and issued a policy that he was going to use his "general control" of the facilities of the House to bar people from using bathrooms that he and his pal Nancy don't believe they should be using. 

For her part, Ms. McBride responded, “This is a blatant attempt from far right-wing extremists to distract from the fact that they have no real solutions to what Americans are facing. We should be focused on bringing down the cost of housing, health care, and child care, not manufacturing culture wars. Delawareans sent me here to make the American dream more affordable and accessible and that’s what I’m focused on.”

Sarah McBride will attempt to show us what happens when you bring a reasoned argument to a mace fight. 

People Who Need People

 I was, and continue to be, challenged by doing business with corporations and people and corporations who it turns out are people. I have struggled with the assertion made that ordering a new pair of work pants from Amazon is feeding the beast that is killing our country. I do not have a clever answer that tips the guilt out of that interaction. Clicking on a button that makes those simple transactions as easy as clicking on a button is hard to resist when you consider the time and expense of going to a real store and making that same purchase.

And not shoving more money into the overstuffed pockets of Jeff Bezos. 

Then there's the matter of our solar energy. Years ago when my wife and I chose to invest in the future of our planet by installing solar panels on the roof of our house, we picked Solar City to do the job. A local company that did a great job and made us feel like we were on the right side of history. 

Until they were devoured by Tesla. 

Suddenly, our troubleshooting calls were rerouted through a series of chutes and bots and real people were taken out of the loop. We were encouraged to try to find answers on the Tesla website which was much more geared toward selling visitors a new electric car than helping support owners of a product purchased by one of their subsidiaries. Worst of all, from my vantage point, the icon for the monitor of our system on my phone changed to that creepy satanic T that stands for Tesla and all the evil that it embodies. 

It was during this same wedge of time that I decided to join Twitter, seeing as how my blogs were such a hit with ten to twelve readers, why not take the opportunity to join a community where I could pass off my tiny bon mots as tiny modular bits of what you might find here if you looked. But Twitter gave me a group of fellow snarks with whom I could relate. 

Then came the dark times. When that same evil empire choked down that little blue bird in one gulp and turned it into a big black X. I told anybody who would listen that I was going to stick around and watch that house burn down around me. I watched as this purported bastion of free speech became a breeding ground for far-right parasites anxious to further their MAGAt aggenda. 

So last Wednesday, I packed up my metaphorical bags and left. I went to the much more tranquil cyberspread called Bluesky. Bye bye, Elongated Mush. So long ads for Bible Belt Buckles. Auf Wiedersehen Nazis. I don't think this is the kind of change that will make the world a better place, but at least my little corner will be a little less controlled by evil. At least that's what I want to tell myself. 

Learning

 As I prepare to wander off over the river and through the woods to my eventual Thanksgiving, I will try and set down the mantle of responsibility that comes with being one of the soldiers in the war against ignorance. I am one of those folks who stand by ready to correct the spelling of "restaurant." I can explain prime numbers. I know the three branches of the United States government. And how they work. 

It sometimes feels a little arcane, being a human hard drive, part of a meat cloud deployed across this great land of ours with the expressed intent of downloading my contents to those willing and able to sit still in front of me long enough to make a meaningful connection. Though it seems as though this was always my purpose, I had to grow into the position of oracle. Finding new and different ways to coax and cajole those shorter than me to stay interested in what I had to say turns out to be an art. All that time spent practicing turns out to have been a worthwhile investment. It's not for everyone, but the rewards I have gathered are the smiles I get at the end of the day and the fact that a former student of mine brought his daughter back to our school years after he attended my class because he remembered the lesson I had shared with him about being line leader. 

There are gifts along the way, and plenty of frustrations, but I keep returning to the promise of another chance to make a connection with those vessels ready to be filled with knowledge. 

Until someone comes along and tells me I should stop. 

The second Trumpreich comes with it a mandate, of sorts, to close up the Department of Education. This is ostensibly under the heading of curtailing all the "woke curriculum" being forced on the children of this not nearly great enough nation. Part of the way they hope to Make America Obedient Again is to make the Department of Education disappear. To do this, they went out and found the co-founder and CEO of World Wrestling Entertainment Linda McMahon. Why wouldn't the person who helped come up with the idea of fake wrestling be the perfect choice for taking over fake education? 

The incoming regime would like to "send education back to the states." Which of course is just a little ridiculous since this is exactly how the folks in Oklahoma have become burdened with the need to put bibles in all their schools. States have been setting their own curriculum for their classrooms as well as the standards by which their students are measured. 

See? I knew that, and I'm happy to share even more about it. But not right now. I'm taking a week off. 

Okay...

 There are plenty of ways to encourage prayer in school. The first one that comes to mind is pop quizzes. Not about religion necessarily, but their mere existence tends to get students to ask for intervention from a higher power. Much in the same way indoor recess causes teachers to request the weather machine to change its course or duration of any atmospheric disturbance that might keep the little darlings in the room for prolonged periods of time. We'll figure out that whole drought thing later. Please let these little creatures outside. 

The less popular version of this exchange can be found in Oklahoma, where Superintendent of Public Education Ryan Walters has decreed that there will be a Bible in every classroom and insists that his "Prayer for the Nation" be played not only to all enrolled students but to any and all parents who would hold still long enough to take in all that glory. Religious liberty, as the narrow mind of Mister Walters describes it, will not be infringed in the Sooner State. Nor will he allow patriotism to be mocked. 

Hold on, Mister Walters, because here comes some mocking:

The state of Oklahoma currently sits just one step above the very bottom of fifty states ranked by academic achievement. If you aren't clear on the way that works out, that means that Ryan Walters' state is forty-ninth. The suggested solution to this trend is to spend money on bibles, preferably the ones printed in China and endorsed by Lee Greenwood, and producing videos to be played for the empty chairs in their classrooms. This will probably eat into the funding that all those woke schools had planned to use on sex change operations for their students, but this is just the beginning of the return to the past by Oklahoma's educational system. 

The Bible, as regularly pointed out by those who have actually read the book (including the author of this post) is chock full of sex and violence. And a whole lot of outdated dogma. Which did not earn The Good Book a spot on the list of books banned by Oklahoma public schools. 

And interestingly enough, those very expensive bibles touted by Mister Walters come with a copy of the United States Constitution tucked neatly inside along with the revealed word. The United States Constitution which includes an amendment that promotes religious freedom and allows all Americans to practice their deeply held beliefs in private and in public. Unfortunately, coming as it does just before the constantly touted Second Amendment, the First Amendment of the United States Constitution provides a separation between church and state. And last time I checked, Mister Walters, the office you currently hold is one created by the state. 

Not by god. 

Stay in your lane. 

Don't Panic

 When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

When in a clown show, do as the clowns do. 

I'm not sure I can follow that last bit of advice, but I can try to laugh.

Because it might be the thing that saves me. And the rest of us. 

Reacting to the flood of absurdity pouring in torrents out of Mar A Lago (literally translated, "Bad Log") one could continue to rail and stress over each new announcement and proclamation. Please understand that I feel this is a completely natural reaction to the suggested appointments and policy directions espoused by the once and future "president." It is a certainty that a percentage of decisions made by the incoming regime will disappoint, nay infuriate, the sensibilities of the American public. Even those hardcore MAGAts will no doubt end up in a lather because of something that issues forth from the brain trust currently being assembled. 

Whether it is mass deportation or tariffs, the removal of fluoride from our drinking water or the abolition of women's right to choose, someone's going to be upset. 

Because I believe that is the intent of the Second Trumpreich. There's something for everyone. To hate. And becoming incensed at those things that get trotted out expressly for that purpose seems like a surrender to the powers that be. Not that any or all of the things I have mentioned are not worth being upset about. But now is the time to start preparing an agenda for the future. 

I am a big fan of democracy and its resilience. It appears likely that our nation's sesquicentennial will be presided over the occupants of the clown car, and in the same way that I white knuckled my way through the administrations of Nixon, Reagan, Bush and the first Trumpreich, I expect we will come out of the next four years with the pendulum swinging hard back in the direction we who are currently fretting consider correct.  This is how I plan to get through until 2028. Laughing at the absurdity and making plans for the future.