Forty Nine Years

Olympic Games Mexico City October 16, 1968 – Tommie Smith and John Carlos won gold and bronze medals in the 200 meter race. Wearing  black socks to represent black poverty, both stood shoeless at the podium. Smith wore a black scarf to symbolize black pride, Carlos a beaded necklace – ” for those individuals that were lynched, or killed and that no-one said a prayer for, that were hung and tarred. It was for those thrown off the side of the boats in the Middle Passage.”. When the Star Spangled Banner played, Smith and Carlos bowed their heads and raised clenched fists of iconic protest. The stadium erupted in boos, Olympic officials lost their shit, Smith and Carlos went home to death threats. The following week Time magazine wrote “Faster, higher, stronger is the motto of the Olympic games, angrier, nastier, uglier, better describes the scene in Mexico City last week”.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1968_Olympics_Black_Power_salute

Forty nine years later the “make America great again” man simpers like a dotard as professional athletes refuse to stand for the national anthem. As if the world demanded further proof America teeters on the brink of collapse, Trump pouts infantile Tweets like – “Wouldn’t you love to see one of these NFL owners, when somebody disrespects our flag, to say, “Get that son of a bitch off the field right now. Out. He’s fired. He’s fired!” Make no mistake America, your president is an asshole. A unhinged megalomaniac hell bent on dictatorial obedience, a snake oil salesman so diabolical he feeds on manipulated adoration without a tinge of conscience.

Trump hasn’t the foggiest notion why professional athletes kneel during the national anthem. He doesn’t bother with issues of police brutality, can’t comprehend poverty, exclusion, racial profiling. In Trump’s America Negroes are uppity. Make no mistake, America’s puppet master knows how to pluck strings of his starry eyed fans. Throngs of slack jawed patriots blither unequivocal allegiance to Trump, incapable of grasping the fact nothing has changed in half a century.

Greatness can’t be declared, it’s earned when individuals lead by  example. Forty nine years ago Smith and Carlos attained a level of greatness Trump wouldn’t recognize if it slapped him in the face. Forty nine years later, the man elected on make great again hogwash has the audacity to Tweet “fire the son of a bitch” when African American athletes kneel in peaceful protest during the national anthem.Wake up America, you’ve had 49 years and failed miserably.

Mentally Deranged U.S. Dotard

“Mentally deranged U.S. dotard”, words North Korean leader Kim Jong-Un used to describe Donald Trump following Trump’s asinine soap box rant at the United Nations. The pride of America saw fit to turn his first UN address into a template for self serving ignorance. Only a dotard would poke “rocket man” sticks at Kim Jong Un. Kudos to North Korea’s lunatic for pulling out a antiquated English language thesaurus. Strictly speaking “dotard” alone would suffice, we’ll never know but I’m of a mind to think Kim Jong Un or his advisors added “mentally deranged” as reference for linguistically challenged Trump. Oh man, Trump lost his shit, so mad he prefaced rocket man with “little”.  Now the little rocket man plans to detonate a hydrogen bomb in the Pacific Ocean. Hysterical as little rocket man calling Trump a mentally deranged.S. dotard may be, there’s nothing funny about it.

Mary Was The First

Full credit to WordPresser Scottie at https://scottiestoybox.com/ for posting an image so absurd my jaw actually dropped.

Season Of Spider Love

In my corner of the world spiders are considered summertime house invaders. With seasonal predictability they arrive on the promise of spring staking claim to the garden. As days lengthen we open windows and doors, inviting spiders into our homes with warm weather indifference. Canadian summers are fleeting, knowing they’ll be gone at first frost excuses occasional household spider drama.

As I write, autumn chill suggests a timely spider farewell – not so fast, this is the season of spider love.

Three species in particular, the Hobo, Barn Tunnel Weaver and “giant house spider” Eratigena Atrica reach sexual maturity in autumn. All three abandon their horizontal sheet or funnel garden webs in search of love. Just when Canadians let their guard fall with autumn leaves, harmless lovelorn spiders appear in bathtubs, basements and bedroom walls.

As spiders go they aren’t behemoth, venomous or likely to bite, all they want is a little love.Take a deep breath, stifle screams, scoop and show them the door.

Carnival

Ponder the carnival – all images credited to my husband at – https://www.flickr.com/photos/15574096@N00/

Explore and enlarge images at – https://www.flickr.com/photos/15574096@N00/

 

Goodnight Cassini

When I wake in the morning Cassini will be gone. Her fiery demise, fitting epitaph for an exquisitely orchestrated journey to benefit mankind. The cosmos doesn’t belong to soldiers or politicians, it waits for stoic civil servants dubbed Cassini to give our universe dimension.

A link detailing Cassini’s Grand Finale –

Goodbye, Cassini!

This video is how I say goodnight Cassini, a lullaby of images in honor of a cosmic journey that stole my heart. Goodnight Cassini, sleep well.

 

What Have I Done

Chances of finding someone who shares relaxed indifference toward a Black Widow spider living 18 months in their basement window are slim to none. Likewise genuine remorse for basement widow’s unceremonious death, or wobbly knee outrage over vacuum hose eradication wielded by a concerned family member. I sulked for weeks, outraged by audacity of family capable of decisive spider intervention while I was away.

“I liked that spider, it wasn’t bothering you!” met “Are you nuts? Have you seen what a Black Widow bite can do?”. Yes I replied, but you don’t understand, this spider liked the basement window. Knowing they acted reasonably didn’t ease the loss of basement widow.

I haven’t told them basement widow’s polite demeanor might have been a peculiar anomaly. Nor have I divulged “what have I done” alarm over recent Black Widow sightings. Widows I might add, who by all appearances lack the courtesy of basement widow. Three Black Widow encounters in the past two days, all eluding attempts to catch and release, not one downstairs where they belong. Oh my, what have I done.

These widows are feisty, smaller and alarmingly craftier than the soothing persona of basement widow. One in windowsill cactus above my kitchen sink, another attempting to claim the bathroom window, a third exuding what you gonna do about it confidence between folds of the spare bedroom curtain. What have I done? Three allowed themselves to be seen, how many lurk unseen.

Evangelical Hurricane

Common sense knows lesbians aren’t responsible for Hurricane Harvey. Radio preacher Rick Wiles begs to differ,suggesting Houston is underwater because it “boasted of its LGBT devotion”. Enter my favorite nincompoop Ann Coulter, who tweeted – I don’t believe Hurricane Harvey is God’s punishment for Houston electing a lesbian mayor,” “But that is more credible than ‘climate change.’ ”

Right Wing Watch reported Pastor Kevin Swanson’s caution on hurricane Irma –  the storm path would be altered by God if the Supreme Court quickly made abortion and gay marriage illegal.

Rush Limbaugh doesn’t blame hurricane season on God, however he fingers “liberal media hype” – “There is a desire to advance this climate change agenda, and hurricanes are one of the fastest and best ways to do it,” he argued, claiming that “hurricanes are always forecast to hit major population centers.”

Twenty years ago religious broadcaster Pat Robertson said Orlando should beware of hurricanes for allowing the Gay Days celebration. Robertson said the widespread practice of homosexuality “will bring about terrorist bombs, it’ll bring earthquakes, tornadoes and possibly a meteor.”

Jim Bakker deserves mention, his tenacious resolve to profit from God is staggering. Not for a post Harvey assertion “this flood is from God”, but for saying so while pitching “Tasty Pantry”, a line of dehydrated survival food sold to sustain the faithful during the coming apocalypse.

I shudder to think how many people take natural disaster as Gods wrath. How many buy nonsense of climate change conspiracy or fail to understand the significance of 79 degrees Fahrenheit – when surface water in the Atlantic reaches 79 degrees it evaporates at the rate of 180 tons an hour, water vapor rises forming massive clouds of low pressure. Caught in rotational force, clouds rotate pushing away high atmospheric pressure, feeding on energy of continuous evaporation a hurricane is born of warm ocean water, not God.

Stop this Biblical nonsense.

Pass The Hand Sanitizer

Late August 2017 Lethbridge, Alberta, a perfect morning to watch the Whoop Up Days parade. We settled curbside, seated among families, senior care home residents and a smattering of tourists.Very much a regional celebration, sprinkled with local politicians,dance academies, beauty schools, financial institutions and community services. Local children came prepared for handfuls of candy along the route, loot bag bulges rivaled Halloween.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/15574096@N00/with/36874892205/

Along came a multicultural community group – dark skinned children carrying baskets of wrapped candy, beaming generous delight at outstretched hands. The family seated next to us let their children accept multicultural candy, then it got weird. The rising voice of Mom sent chills through an otherwise perfect morning. She meant business, Mom didn’t have to snarl twice – “get over here right now!” – plucked her children from innocence to realities of hand sanitizer  brandished with alarming urgency. Rabid purpose dispatched healthy dollops into outstretched hands.

Caught in my stare, Mom blithered half hearted platitudes – “the street is dirty, don’t want them to get sick”. Speechless, I turned away. Refusing to look back when snippets of insane jibber-jabber revealed Mom’s overwhelming need to explain hand sanitizer for strangers on the other side.

This Canadian is grateful for hand sanitizer parade morning. As Canadians we possess an infinite capacity to finger Trump’s America, oblivious or politely indifferent to reality of racism in our back yard. I saw beautiful children full of hope and promise, hand sanitizer Mom saw dirty, inferior children who posed a risk to her family. As Canadians, regardless of faith, demographic or political affiliation, we have to stop hand sanitizing Moms. Next time I won’t look away.

Ponder 14:10 Minutes With Cassini