Shade is something that basically doesn’t exist here. Yet somehow, I’m shady. Is it because of the way I look at scantily clad females? Is it because of my flouting of “health” mandates? Is it because of my outré views of the State and authority in general?

Nope. It’s because we don’t have any fucking trees or clouds, and a blast-furnace sun. People here don’t vie to park close to building entrances. Instead, they fight over some meager shadow provided by scrawny, dying saplings. Or cast by a fat old Jew. Fat old Jew shadows are bigger and better.

There are still birthdays today, including a guy who knew his boundaries; a guy who was nothing if not diverse; yet another guy who should have won the Nobel; an Irish guy who spoke flawless Yiddish; a guy who inspired John Waters’s first movie; winner of the Jan Brewer Sound-Alike contest; a commie who suddenly became a grasping capitalist when those millions could be his; The Squad’s spirit animal; a cartoon music guy who was no Raymond Scott; “Very pretty​, Colonel, Very pretty. But, can they fight?“; an apparently good-humored punch line to many jokes; a piece of shit ready to retire; and a Canadian piece of shit who is still inflicting himself on us.

Those are the headlines, now the rumors behind the news.

 

NPR is nothing if not reliable in phraseology, framing, and spin.

 

Experts. We are wall-to-wall experts.

 

The Israelis are far more patient and tolerant than I’d be.

 

Sounds like insurrection to me.

 

A refreshing antidote to the “OMG THE EARTH IS ON FIRE!” media coverage.

 

Who’s in the on deck circle?

 

Old Guy Music is a great old John Hartford tune sung by one of the very best voices in bluegrass. Oh, and she plays guitar like Billy Strings.