Little girls explain marriage perfectly


Well worth 27 seconds of your time.

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You don’t deserve American food, hate crime at a McDonald’s


https://www.washingtonpost.com/video/c/embed/662697b4-6019-11e8-b656-236c6214ef01

John Jay Smith was arrested May 23 after deputies said he threatened a group of International students from Egypt with a switchblade and a stun gun at a Saint Augustine, Fla., McDonald’s.

Surprise! This happened in Florida.

Rake America Great Again!


We aren’t dealing with “Fake News” with this guy. He is loaded us all down with so much stupidity and blab that there’s almost no where to start.

Rake the forests would solve forest fires California?

The whole laughing stock of the world comes to mind … who is the fat ass of the jokes here?

Just another Sunday in America.

https://twitter.com/JamieMoncrief/status/1063940774126108672/photo/1?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1063940774126108672&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.joemygod.com%2F2018%2F11%2Ftrump-blames-wildfires-on-lack-of-raking-video%2F

 

 

 

Always be like Todd


A heart-warming, tear-jerking story about a town treasure named Tod who has autism. His seemingly sole purpose in life is bringing cheer and kindness to his community.

Todd Kirnan, a 45-year-old man with autism, has been making deliveries and doing odd jobs for virtually every business in downtown Gresham, Ore. Todd is so treasured here that people have often joked that he should have his own statue, or have a parade thrown in his honor. Which is why Kirnan got a very special surprise recently. Steve Hartman reports.

25 reasons to keep on creating stuff


Twenty eighteen has been a remarkable year for me. My network of friends has blossomed into a treasure trove of inspiration and strength. I’ve created more content than ever. Our commissions are more and more of exactly the jobs we want rather than a bunch of jobs we don’t. We hired a part-time employee. I’ve read more books than I have in years. I’m running, and feel my health his good. I’ve curbed certain addictions, like too much social media use and drinking alcohol to only a couple days a week, a huge step for me.

I, like too many, have experienced the familial fall out phenomenon associated with politics driving huge gaps between loved ones. Among other things, it’s a weekly if not daily challenge. The political climate, since long before Trump, long before Obama, has reached a screaming explosive point.

People blame Trump for familial differences taking its toll. My mind zooms back to the 2000s and a very divisive Bush. I imagine this bullshit isn’t necessarily new. But it seems that, perhaps, the social media world helps create a sense of challenging ubiquity.

An article over at the Atlantic discusses the political divide this way:

The new political divide is a stark division between cities and what remains of the countryside. Not just some cities and some rural areas, either — virtually every major city (100,000-plus population) in the United States of America has a different outlook from the less populous areas that are closest to it. The difference is no longer about where people live, it’s about how people live: in spread-out, open, low-density privacy — or amid rough-and-tumble, in-your-face population density and diverse communities that enforce a lower-common denominator of tolerance among inhabitants.

The voting data suggest that people don’t make cities liberal — cities make people liberal.

Feel free to read the entire piece.

Over at Kottke, I was turned on by a post based on a tweet encouraging us creatives to keep on creating. The way I see it, if you’re only consuming (and only complaining or sharing bullshit memes or shit someone else created for you, you’re part of the problem. If you’ve abandoned creation, in any of its forms, you should hang your head in shame. As should I.

Create. Create. Create.

Do your damndest to not let this disjointed drama suck your life dry of a goddamn pulse.

The below tweet is how it starts. Click on it to read all of them although I left very few out. I love them all.

Here’s a lot standout reasons:

1. Because you need to escape the fuckery, and what you make is a door. A book, a piece of art, even an excellent meal – it’s a doorway out. It’s the tunnel dug out behind the Rita Hayworth poster in your prison cell.

3. Because creation is . Making things is additive. And in a subtractive time such as this, you must balance the void with its opposite. That is an act of defiance. And we need more defiance.

4. Because stories and art change the world. Individually, collectively, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Art is a glorious mutator. It evolves you. It evolves us. And eventually, the world.

5. Because you Making Cool Shit also makes the Worst People mad. Good. Fuck ‘em. Make stuff that makes those monsters mad.

8. Because what you make will outlast this ungovernable fuckshittery. What you make are mountains. We will cling to their peaks. And when the Tides of Stupid recede, the mountains of what you made will remain.

9. Because it’s therapy. It’s therapy first for you, and if you share it, eventually for us, too.

12. Because you need to up your game. No matter the era, no matter the epoch, no matter how fucking goofy things get – YOU STILL GOTTA UP THAT GAME. And making things ups your game.

16. Because seriously, what else are you going to do, just sit here and stare at Twitter? It’s like staring into a blender full of chipmunks. Jesus, go make something, if only to find something better to do for the next hour.

23. Because you’re going to fail sometimes, and that’s a necessary thing. Failure is an inoculation. It bolsters your creative immune system. And in this ENDLESS CYCLE OF STUPID, you really, really need a strong intellectual and creative immune response.

24. Because art is beauty. Stories, poetry, craftwork, food, it’s all beautiful and this ugly world needs a dollop of beauty. There is beauty in both the act and the result of making stuff. So kick the shitstorm out of the sky with an aggressive rainbow counterattack.

 

Pope Mohammed and the Papa John’s guy


“Look what they did to the Papa John’s guy,” says Pope Mohammed. He’s referring to John Schnatter, the chairman of the mega-Pizza chain fired for racist remarks made in a meeting.

You and Pope Mohammed are sitting together at a table neighboring Times Square on a warm day in late August. Jumbotron screens blink and flash colors, symbols, words and graphics … they beam out the images of celebrities’ and models’ faces the size of semi trucks.

“Look what they did to the Papa John’s guy,” repeats Pope Mohammed. “Schnatter’s done more for blacks than you’ll ever dream of doing.”

You sit there, with your arms crossed, staring at a diverse group of students, white, Asian, brown, black. A latino man with a little flag at the end of a short pole walks backward to navigate his group. The students in choreographed unison pass by with their phones up like shields to photograph the sights.

Pope Mohammed continues, “Black people need to get over it and stop looking so hard to find racism. It isn’t that hard to find real racism that needs to be confronted.”

You spot a black man sitting on a flattened cardboard box. His back pressed hard against a building. Tourists amble past his outstretched legs. He has pee stained pants. He wears a ripped sweater over multiple other layers of ragged cotton. A sign on his lap reads, “Down on luck. Please help.”

“It’s time to stand up to these socialists,” says Pope Mohammed. A woman passerby jerks her head in your direction. Pope Mohammed doesn’t miss a beat. ” When are people going to start standing up for their free speech rights?”

The masses of people around you. The variety. The outright swarms are overwhelming. It moves you, to some degree, how, in all the chaos of this densely populated city, that there is a sense of togetherness. Of calm. Of unity. A flash of a woman, dressed all in green, raising her right arm high in the air with a flaming torch surges through your mind’s eye.

You half smile from the thought.

Pope Mohammed’s voice rattles your ear drum. “That’s the end of that,” he says, “I’m cashing in whatever Papa John’s points I have and I’m only ordering from Pizza Hut from now on.”


Pope Mohammed is a short story series I developed years ago. You can see past posts here.

I stopped writing the series because I got busy with life and the personification of my character literally became the president of the United States of America. To out Pope Mohammed Donald Trump is super challenging!