The Small Step

Fifty years ago a human being walked on the moon.

When my grandmother was born there were no cars. Electricity was in its infancy. Airplanes? Inconceivable. Radio? Nope. TV? Not even close. Computers?. Fantasy.

By the time my grandmother died a man had walked on the moon. The technological progress in that one lifetime is almost unimaginable. In my 69 years the advances in science, especially medicine, also have been unbelievable. Other technologies as well.

Political thought? Not so much. The same reactionary forces that dominated politics before World War 1 seem to still be dominant today.

A man walked on the moon. The amazing scientific and technological achievement is hidden in those words. The millions of man hours and trillions of man neurons dedicated to one purpose. One positive purpose. One uplifting purpose. What human beings can accomplish when organized, inspired and allowed to do the job. The unimaginable becomes real.

A man walked on the moon. The moon will never look the same No longer “out there” and unreachable. The moon is now a first step on a possible fantastic voyage into the universe. Like a toddler’s shaky , stumbling walk. And like the toddler it is inevitable that man will fall on his face more than once. Cry. Get up. And wobble ahead.

A man walked on the moon. Every human being can have clean water. Good health care. A decent place to live. A good life.

There were a million reasons why a man could never walk on the moon. Too far. Too expensive. A technological impossibility. Pie in the sky. Unrealistic. Couldn’t be done.

There are a million reasons why we can’t house, clothe, feed and give health care to every human being on the Earth. Until you recall.

A man walked on the moon.

 

 

Embrace Your Race (ism)

It’s about time.

For many years the racists have had to hide in the shadows. Like slimy snakes in the grass. Like moles in their holes. Like cockroaches in the cracks. You get the picture.

Being a racist is as American as the melody of the Star Spangled Banner. Oh. Wait. That was actually the melody of an old English drinking song. But, you know what I mean.

The colonists were racist. The founding fathers were racist. Even Honest Abe, if he were to tell the truth, was a racist. Racism permeates the history of the American people.

Just in my lifetime we had the good old days of Jim Crow. Negroes drinking from the same public fountains as real Americans? Outrageous. Marrying white folks. Not in the good old days. Eating in a white restaurant? No gonna happen. Ah. Good times for all.

Then something happened. The socialists. The equal rights crowd. The PC police.

All of a sudden it was “wrong” to be a racist. There something “wrong” with lynching. It was “wrong” to tell taxpaying citizens they could not have the same rights as the rest of us. The communists trying to tell the rest of us how to live.

But, thank the good lord Jesus, times are a changing  back. Back to the good old days when racists didn’t have to hide, but wore their hoods with pride. I said “hoods”, not “hoodies”. Don’t be confused.

Now we finally have a real man in the White House. WHITE House. Not “Negro” House. Not “Person of Color” House. WHITE HOUSE. Built by white folks, for a white president. (OK, maybe the Negroes did help a little bit in building the White House, but they got room and board).

And our real man in the White House finally tells it like it is. Send them back. Ship em back to where they came from. Put on the hoods and take out the trash. No need to hide any longer. No need to pretend . No need to whisper your racist hate. The man at the top is on your side.

Embrace your racism. It’s a new day in America. The cockroaches no longer scatter when the lights come out. Welcome to Trump’s America.

 

The Stench

It has been 900 days. And the stench gets worse and worse.

In my area, which is rural, sometimes it stinks. At certain times of the year farmers spread manure. Nowadays it is liquid manure.

The smell is awful. It is a stench unlike any other. It is foul. Disgusting.

Of course, after a while you get used to it. It still reeks. But your nose has adapted. Your nostrils have decided that their fate is to be accepted. Whatever will be, will be.

Your senses become are first offended. Then numbed. The smell lingers. But it becomes second nature.

So it is with the Trump administration. The stench of corruption smacks you in the nose. Then lingers. Then you adjust. Maybe it isn’t so bad? But , in the background the odor lingers. Permanently.

How many cabinet members have resigned in disgrace? How many campaign members have been convicted or plead guilty to crimes? How many family members tweet stupidity on a daily basis?

The stench has become “business as usual”. It is white noise.

The latest, of course, is the Epstein stench. A friend of Trump. Like so many of Trump’s associates and friends, Trump now says: Who? Did I know this guy? A lot of people knew this guy. I never liked him. Not a fan.

And the stench of Acosta. And Dershowitz. And Hannity. And O’Reilly. (Wanna guess what all these men have in common?).

Trump claims he is draining “the swamp”. Maybe.

But he is creating a cesspool. And the stench, while unbearable, has no signs of abating. If anything, after 900 days of this putrid administration, it just keeps getting worse and worse.

Even farmers know when to stop spreading manure. Trump is no farmer.