The Decency Project

Day 283 or so of The Apocalypse, and T-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is still the American president. Every day since he began his evil journey from the bowels of Trumpistan, people, pundits, politicians, you name it, have proclaimed, “He can’t last–he’s finished this time.”


Refuting him with facts doesn’t seem to work. In fact, as George Lakoff has pointed out,  logical refutation is not only useless, it instead reinforces the outrages Trump utters. Snark and satire amuse, but haven’t slowed him a whit. Those speaking principled opposition create their own echo chamber and seem to feed the beast more than wound it. It’s very frustrating.

It’s time to try something different, and I’m proposing the Decency Project, whereby we offer up ideas and notions that replace Trumpisms rather than simply oppose them. Even the name itself–Decency–suggests replacement, since nothing decent exists in Trumpistan. The idea comes from something one of my neighborhood groups, the Family Co-op, did recently with its Kindness Project, whereby members painted rocks with kind or inspirational sayings and hid them like Easter eggs throughout the neighborhood.

The Decency Project will post pictures or videos or whatever of decent events, people,  or actions that happen in the U.S. every day that Trump and his ilk can only look at with envy. Without further explication, I post the following, of fired U.S. Attorney Preet Bharara swearing in 30 immigrants as new American citizens and leading them in the Pledge of Allegiance. It’s an ironic and sublime moment Trump will never, ever be a part of.

If you like this project and feel compelled to join me, please do so!

Day 281 of the Apocalypse

My father used to tell the story of the guy who rounded the cliff too fast in his new car and tumbled over the edge. He was lucky enough to grab a branch as he fell down the mountain, but after hanging onto the branch for a few hours, he became quite tired. “Can anyone hear me?” he shouted. No response.  “God? Hello, God? Can you hear me?” he yelled.

A voice boomed down from the heavens. “I can hear you,” the voice said.

“Can you help me?” the man said.

“Do you believe in God?” the voice replied.

“Oh, yes! Yes!” the man said.

“If you believe in God, let go of the branch,” said the voice.

The man thought about it for several seconds. “Can anyone else hear me?” he said.

Each of us has experienced those moments in which we feel ignored by an impersonal, even unjust universe. We shout our frustrations to someone who may or may not be in charge, because it’s the best we’ve got and it’s all we can do.  But nothing happens. Nothing changes.

Today is the 281st of the Apocalypse known as the election of one Donald Trump, whereby the hordes from Trumpistan rode in shouting their racist, sexist, nationalistic cant and stole the reins of our country. The outraged among us have marched, attended town halls, contacted our elected representatives, and otherwise done whatever we could think of to resist, only to be answered with silence as the outrages continue unabated.

On Friday, August 12, a white Nazi sympathizer plowed into a crowd of anti-white nationalist protesters. Two police officers also died when their helicopter crashed. A handful of elected leaders offered statements of outrage, though most politicians were either silent or uttered a few hackneyed, anodyne syllables of CYA.

Of note, though, was pharmaceutical giant Merck’s CEO, Kenneth Frazier, who resigned from Trump’s Manufacturing Advisory Council as a matter of conscience. Trump, if you’ll recall refused to call out white supremacists or white nationalists.

More noteworthy, though, are the other members of the council who said nothing. Ms. Denise Morrison, CEO of Campbell Soup, issued an Orwellian newspeak response, saying, “…Our commitment to diversity and inclusion is unwavering, and we will remain active champions for these efforts. We believe it is important for Campbell to have a voice and provide input on matters that will affect our industry, our company and our employees in support of growth.  Therefore, Ms. Morrison will remain on the President’s Manufacturing Jobs Initiative.”

Below is a list of the others on the council with hyperlinks to contact them. It was the best I could pull together, but let them know what you think in a respectful way.

UPDATE: Under Armour’s Kevin Plank has stepped down and made a forceful statement!

UPDATE: Brian Krzanich Intel CEO, has exited the council and made a statement!

UPDATE: Scott Paul of the Alliance for American Manufacturing has resigned, citing conscience.

UPDATE (8/16/17): Inge Thulin, CEO of IBM, has resigned from the council. So did Denise Morrison of Campbell Soup. A few minutes ago, Trump tweeted that he was disbanding the council.

Andrew Liveris, The Dow Chemical Company,

Michael Dell, Dell

Bill Brown, Harris Corporation

John Ferriola, Nucor Corporation

Jeff Fettig, Whirlpool Corporation

Jim Hackett, Ford Motor Company,

Alex Gorsky, Johnson & Johnson

Greg Hayes, United Technologies Corp.

Marilynn Hewson, Lockheed Martin Corporation

Jeff Immelt, General Electric

Jim Kamsickas, Dana Inc. ,

Klaus Kleinfeld,

Brian Krzanich, Intel Corporation

Rich Kyle, The Timken Company

Thea Lee, AFL-CIO

Mario Longhi, U.S. Steel

Denise Morrison, Campbell Soup Company,

Dennis Muilenburg, Boeing Scroll down a bit.

Doug Oberhelman, Caterpillar. New CEO is Dave Calhoun.

Scott Paul, Alliance for American Manufacturing

Kevin Plank, Under Armour

Michael Polk, Newell Brands  Corporate Communications

Mark Sutton, International Paper

Inge Thulin, 3M,

Richard Tumka, AFL-CIO

Wendell Weeks, Corning

Stop Helping Trump

Spread the word.

George Lakoff

Without knowing it, many Democrats, progressives and members of the news media help Donald Trump every day. The way they help him is simple: they spread his message.

Think about it: every time Trump issues a mean tweet or utters a shocking statement, millions of people begin to obsess over his words. Reporters make it the top headline. Cable TV panels talk about it for hours. Horrified Democrats and progressives share the stories online, making sure to repeat the nastiest statements in order to refute them. While this response is understandable, it works in favor of Trump.

When you repeat Trump, you help Trump. You do this by spreading his message wide and far.

Nobody knows this better than Trump. Trump, as a media master, knows how to frame a debate. When he picks a fight, he does so deliberately. He tweets or says outrageous things, knowing they will be…

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Day 57 of The Apocalypse

Good news! Since T-who-must-not-be-named hasn’t been sworn in as CEO of the America-Trumpistan merger, we hereby cancel the Nov. 8, 2106 start date of the Apocalypse. That means there’s an outside chance it won’t happen, so the date has been reset to Jan. 20, 2017.

We’re now at minus sixteen and counting down.

Meanwhile, follow this link for an update on what’s happening in the Age of Gemini:

The Reality Distortion Zone of Trump I

It’s Day 34 of the Apocalypse wrought by the Trumpistan invasion, with Dour Don trump_12321dissing the CIA’s report of Russia tilting the election in his favor. These kinds of things run counter to the Make America Great Again narrative, after all, which is now hitting full stride:

  • The proposed head of the Environmental Protection Agency is suing the EPA and taking names of staffers working on carbon mitigation.
  • The Department of Labor nominee opposes minimum wage hikes but supports robots and immigrant workers.
  • A billionaire hedge funder known as the King of Bankruptcy and who once had The Darnold as a client gets the nod for the Commerce Department.trump-taj-mahal-closing
  • A vowel-impaired Treasury Department candidate, a favorite among the bankers and globalists, is among those Roaring’ Don said rigged the system.
  • Another billionaire is tapped to head the Department of Education, because she had one. Presumably.  But she was a major donor to Trump’s campaign, and heck, juice should count for something.

That was then. This is now. “The business of the American people is business,” said Cal Coolidge in 1924 when things was roarin’ and failed banks and market collapses hadn’t occurred in recent memory (or for 17 years–one of those), and a world war to end all wars was a long, long way from Tipperary.  Doubletalk Don will return to those halcyon days when men were men and do his all to make America grope again.

Channeling Silent Cal once more, the Merry Trumpster floated the name of ExxonMobil’s CEO, Rex Tillerson, to become Secretary Of State. Rex’s diplomatic bonafides are that he’s pals with Bad Vlad the Hacker and makes great deals, at least for Exxon. Or, at least they were great deals until the U.S. and Europe levied sanctions on Russia instead of rewards for altering the map of Europe through military force. Exxonasaurus Rex didn’t like that. After all, there’s no oil in Crimea or anywhere else in Ukraine, so who cares about them?

Making America great again is looking like a Brave New World.


Can Trump Trump Trump? Yes or No–One of Those.

were-still-hereIt’s day 30 of the Apocalypse, and the good news is that civilians still control the military so far. Or the military controls the civilians. One of those. Both are true, unless they’re not, in the Trumpladyte chaos, aka The Transition, aka The Revolution.

Or, with today’s naming of yet another general to the cabinet, the Junta.

Like that new Air Force One plane Boeing is designing for the U.S. President. It will cost $4 billion, tweets the Sun King–egads, waste and fraud–unless it will cost the $170 million Boeing says is the contract price.  It’s one of those.

After all, doesn’t a word mean what you choose it to mean–neither more nor less? And isn’t the question whether or not you can make words mean so many different things? Or, is the question, which is to be master? Or, did the Sun King have a great fall from the wall Mexico’s gonna pay for, unless it won’t? One of those.

In Trumpistan, truth is fungible.





Pogo: We Have Met the Enemy


It’s day 24 of the Apocalypse wrought by the invasion from Trumpistan, led by the red-capped orangutan and the salon-coiffed vicar of Indiana intent on making America straight again. The only thing sober about the ongoing reality show known as The Transition is the cocktail-free dinner with toady-in-chief Reince Priebus, and Mitt Romney, who’s quest to have Trumpsky close escrow on Mitten’s integrity continued unabated. The vital question on America’s anxious mind: Who picked up the $600 check?

Meanwhile, The Apprentice decided to channel Andrew Jackson by using the spoils system to  make America great again. Or was it Tammany Hall? One of those.  Steven Mnuchin, a billionaire more in need of an extra vowel than a job, gets Treasury, while billionaire Wilbur Ross (oh wow, look at him now, Zuckerman’s famous pig) snags Commerce.  Next is billionaire donor Betsy Devos, whose only experience with matters education has been ensuring no white child is left behind and gets, well, the Department of Education.

The Angry Carrot once said we could never fix a rigged system by counting on those who rigged it in the first place. Goldman Sachs owned Ted Cruz and Hillary Clinton, he raged. Maybe they only rented Mnuchin.

The rest of the Legion of Doom Trump brought on to drain the Washington D.C. swamp turned out to be swamp foxes all, less hell bent on draining the place than making it a Muslim-free Mar-a-Lago north. It’s a gold-plated geyser erupting tweets to the adoring laity about lying media, illegal votes, soon-to-re-open coal mines and steel mills, and otherwise telling it like it isn’t in 140 characters, the non-coastal swath of The Faithful confusing being rich with being smart.

You can’t cheat an honest person, any con man will tell you, which says more about the throng of rubes from sea to shining sea than it does the jack-o-lantern face smiling down from his Boeing 757.




The gilded python known as Donald J. Trump slithered into the  Washington. D.C. swamp he promised to drain but instead held court with the assorted nutria, copperheads, and alligators who’d gathered to kiss his ring. Or his whatever. The punditry, meanwhile, helped make America great again by normalizing sexual predation, bigotry, xenophobia, and fraud. What’s not to like about a trending keyword, after all? They only last a day and a half or so and the bills have to be paid.

Abraham Lincoln said you can fool some of the people all of the time, all of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool all of the people all of the time. That Abe could turn a phrase, no? But so could the con man who said there’s a sucker born every minute.  An awful lot of minutes means an awful lot of suckers out there dancing in lockstep to the Pied Trumpster’s refrains amply suffixed with -isms and -phobics.  Kind of catchy, that tune.

For Trumpolytes, the Duke of Orange is the cat’s meow when it comes to making America great again.  For them, it doesn’t matter what you say so much as how you say it, whatever “it” is.  Facts are fungible, and never mind that since 2011, Politifact has checked Trump’s statements 300 times and found his assertions to be False, Mostly False, or Pants on Fire lies 70 percent of the time.  So what? It’s just a George Soros plot meant to further the cause of libtards everywhere.

And one more verse in Trump’s requiem ballad followed by the chorus of pundits and politicians making outrage the new normal.

Democrats, of course, were dismayed to learn their Anointed One didn’t get anointed after all, thanks to those pesky Rust Belters, suburbanites, and ruralites who weren’t With Her. College-educated white women weren’t With Her either. Nor  was a swathe of the faithful who didn’t vote. Not just dismayed, but stunned, those crafty old Dem’s, which is surprising given their’ stunning loss of the House, Senate, state houses and governorships since 2008. Things were bad before tapering off, but the data missed it. Or someone missed the data. One of those. It’s got to be the FBI’s fault that the paint-by-numbers-and-got-the-best-grades candidate lost.

But joy looms large in Trumpistan, where denizens who thought jobs resulted from some deus ex machina are convinced those jobs will come back because the holy white-eyed Annoying Orange said so. Those three-day work weeks churning out crap at the Ford factory in return for a full week’s pay and defined benefits forever are right around the corner. Well, maybe in Mexico, actually, but when we send 11 million Mexicans back, they’ll be happy to return those factories to pay for the wall we’re gonna build along the border.

“Critics say building the wall may be problematic,” goes the chorus as the punditry sings, as the absurd become just another option. Mr. Beckett and Mr. Ionesco, are you listening? Oh, wait.

Welcome to Day Seven of the Apocalypse. More to follow. Please watch this space.






Ten Things You Didn’t Know About Istanbul (Pt. 2)

I already wrote about the first three here.  One definition of failure is intending to write all ten things in one 400-500 word post, and ending up seven things short in a 600-word post. All of which may be the eleventh thing about Istanbul/Turkey: It’s so complex and nuanced that you can never sum it up nicely. More on that later–maybe even another time.

Anyway, item four: The three  most popular tourist sites–Topkapi Palace, Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque–are all in walking distance of one another. And I mean like a few blocks.

Hagia Sophia
Blue Mosque
Hagia Sophia from the Blue Mosque














The Cisterns are across the street from Hagia Sophia. Topkapi Palace is about two blocks away. The Grand Bazaar is two tram stops but you can walk it in 10-15 minutes.

Ghost of Hercule Poirot inside, maybe

Which brings us to item five: You can visit the terminus train station of the Orient Express. And yep, it’s walking distance from Hagia Sophia. Or three tram stops. It’s across the street (almost) from Eminonu Piers, where the ferries are.  And the Spice Bazaar is across the street from that. And the Galata Bridge crossing the Golden Horn is a few steps away.

Item six: A lot of what we think of as Greek food is really Turkish food. Stuffed grape leaves (dolmas). Shish kebob. Baklava.  Minced meat, cheese, or whatever wrapped in phyllo-type dough and baked. As an aside–in an entire month’s stay, I can count on one hand the number of fat Turks.

Item seven: Nearly all the young people are attractive and hot. The women’s hair erupts like an obsidian waterfall to wrap angular faces with huge, deep eyes, and a sultry expression. Believe me, no one dies sultry like a young Turkish woman. They make Lauren Bacall seem amateur. The men tend to have a day’s beard growth, dark eyes, and are truly handsome in ways that remind you of Paul Newman or Johnny Depp or James Dean.

Number eight: Turks are whimsical in ways you’d never imagine. Look what the parArtsyTreek staff did to this dead tree in a park. In fact, they did this to nearly all the dead trees. How cool is that?

Number nine: Since what is now Istanbul was originally founded in the seventh century BCE, it’s layers of history are unquantifiable. Sit in an outdoor cafe in Sultanahmet, the neighborhood where the above attractions are located, and you could well be seated next to the remains of a brick wall the Byzantines constructed 1,300 years ago.

Number ten: Segueing, the fault lines running through Istanbul aren’t just geological. They’re social, political, historical, and every other kind of -ical you can imagine. Half the city’s in Europe and half is in Asia. It’s in a Muslim country, but most of the events in the New Testament occurred in Turkey.  Byzantines, Ottomans, Italians, and whoever else fought over this castle on the Bosphorus.

In fact, Istanbul may be the location where the Old Testament flood occurred, as discussed in this National Geographic News article, where submarine explorer James Ballard discovered evidence of cities well below the surface of the Black Sea with relatively advanced architecture and construction. Civilizations have been fighting for it for thousands of years–and still are. But nature bats last, right?

And there you have it. Go see it before it’s too late.