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Month: August 2017

Swords in Texas

As of September 1, 2017, Texans can carry daggers, swords, and machetes in public places; with some exclusions including schools, prisons, hospitals, places of worship and amusement parks.

So far, no word from Trump’s religious advisor in the downtown Baptist church.

I’ll bet the satellite dishes in the trailer park exploded when that breaking news report hit cable TV. Lordy, I thought there was hope for Texas’ image when the bathroom bill didn’t pass. I was wrong. We southerners celebrate crazy, but this is over the top, even for Texas. Some of our state leaders need to check the end date on their tin foil hat.

I can remember a time when carrying a sword in public was a sure fire way to be, placed in a restraining garment, medicated and parked in a quiet room.

This is sure to present challenges to People O’Walmart. Some of them will have to rethink their wardrobe. It’s hard to find a place to put a machete when you  shop half-naked.

I don’t know how much more I can stand. We have a certified loony, unqualified national misogynist leader. At the state level, we have creepy elected officials obsessed with personal functions that people don’t discuss in polite society.

Men have screwed up the entire country. It’s time for the steel magnolias to put down their mint juleps, pick up their protest signs and march.

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Mary Margaret is the guest blogger this week. For those who aren’t familiar with Mary Margaret here’s how she came to be:

The filter that monitors what comes out of my mouth was defective from day one. Southern women don’t recognize these as flaws; we call them eccentricities. I named my eccentricity Mary Margaret. She sometimes appears as a guest blogger.

Mary Margaret
Mary Margaret

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Forty-Five

Call him forty-five.

I wish I could take credit for this suggestion, but I can’t.

A former co-worker made the suggestion, as a coping mechanism. He said you-know-who is not worthy of a name. It is brilliant and empowering at a time when many of us feel overwhelmed as we watch the daily antics of the current resident of the oval office and his creepy mates.

I have never quite been able to bring myself to say “President” Trump. I get an icky feeling of self-recrimination for denigrating the office of the presidency. A nom de plume is the perfect solution for the unspeakable one. I’ve exhausted my supply of expletives and adjectives, many that one should never utter in polite society or in print.

A number is more than he deserves.

Let’s embark on a national campaign to substitute “Forty-Five” for the “T” word. Think of the humiliation for a man who considers himself a branding expert. For one who behaves like a spoiled child, this might have the same effect as a “time-out”.

I wondered what happen if we refused to write, comment or speak about the twittering nitwit. But—-he provides too much material. And—the other thing is, if we don’t give voice to our anxiety we will burst.

Forty-five is a step in the right direction.

 

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It’s All a Bad Dream

I feel so much better! The Trump presidency is a bad dream; there is no Donald Trump.

It’s Alec Baldwin! Any day now, we can look forward to hearing, “Live from New York. It’s Saturday Night; the Trump presidency has  been a huge gag.”

I first became suspicious when I watched Trump read his entire speech announcing the withdrawal from the Paris accord.

We all know Donald watches television but does not, and for all we know, cannot read. A seasoned actor like Baldwin reads a lot. A dead giveaway.

My curiosity peaked when I noticed during one interview Donald’s red tie did not reach his knees. Baldwin goofed big time with this one. The Donald’s ties drag his knees. Baldwin is a sharp dresser.

I watched Donald Trump (wink) as he announced his fire and fury warning to NK. Look at the video and you will see his hands tucked under the arms. Very clever of Alec Baldwin to hide the hands; but no go. Everyone knows Donald has tiny little hands.

The decisive factor was the hair. A press conference video revealed The Donald with a picture perfect dyed orange comb over. A recent shot of Trump on the golf course indicated a widening part the size of a tennis ball.

The anticipation of waiting for the real president to show up is mounting. I wonder who she or he might be?

Alec Baldwin is not returning my phone calls.

 

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Is There An Argument to Keep Confederate Monuments?

I often remarked that my family was too poor to own slaves.

My heart hurt when I discovered a slave schedule belonging to one of my great, great grandparent’s. Among those listed was a one-year-old child. How would one ever justify a practice that would permit someone to own another human being and their baby? I felt guilt, shame, and remorse for a practice that I find abhorrent.

In light of this discovery, I thought a lot about the confederate monuments. Many want to remove them as painful reminders. Do we eliminate memorials that are painful or can we accept them as reminders, of man’s inhumanity to man?

I am opposed to removing them. As horrible as it was, it is part of our American history. Where does it end? Do we remove Confederate historical markers in old family cemeteries? George Washington owned slaves, as did many others, including Ulysses Grant, who had control of his wife’s slaves. Do we remove their monuments as well?

Should we marginalize those commanded to fight and which wars would we sanction?

America has a lot of history that is ugly, the Salem witch-hunts, and massacre of Native American Indians, Internment camps for Japanese, Germans, and Italians in the US.

I wish slavery had never existed, but it did. Removing the monuments will not erase that part of our history. We own our history, the good and the atrocious. Doesn’t it make sense to pay forward the good and never repeat the horrific?

 

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