Let's Not Make a Deal

I've stopped watching TV news. When I watch our local news it's usually for the weather report but I live in Southeastern Connecticut and in August the weather is hot and humid with a daily chance of just enough rain to screw up that car wash I just got with no danger of reducing the dew point to something approaching tolerable.  

And the national news is all Trump Lies all the time and, quite frankly, I'm numbed from the roots of my rapidly diminishing hair to the tips on my toenails by the petulance and perfidy of the Prevaricator in Chief. 

Trump is like that shitheel used-car dealer whose commercials dominate late-night TV after the talk shows have called it a day. Every car on his lot: I don't know Stormy Daniels; You need ID to buy groceries; There was/is no collusion, through Mexico will pay for the wall; all of them have frame damage that needs straightening, used filler and bond-o to make body repairs, needed large amounts of sawdust in the bell housing to quiet the transmission, and have problems with the VINs on the registration. And his Trumpkins believe every word.

Not what I'm about today, not at all. 
As Yossarian offers to Chaplain Tappman in Catch-22, "let the bastards thrive for all I care since I can nothing to stop them except embarrass by running away' and I'm way too old and lame to attempt that so I just hope I'm still around when karma catches up to the Mango Mussolini and that posse of Trump Trolls he installed in the government. Nope, none for me thanks, I'm driving.

Mark David Chapman the man who murdered John Lennon is eligible for parole again and will request just that at a hearing later this month whose date has not yet been announced. I grew up with and on The Beatles. I don't think I would have survived adolescence without their music and I'm sometimes not sure how I've gotten as far as I have in all the years since. Fuck Mark David Chapman and his request.

Here's the only deal on the table: he gets to leave prison no more than one hour after John Lennon comes back from the dead. I'll hold the watch so we'll all know it's fair (mine has a sweep-second hand so I'll get it right to the very second). 

Actually, that's a lie, not the watch part. He stays in jail, below ground with no daylight and no one ever speaking to him until he dies and then when he finally does, we leave his corpse in the cell and seal it up and never speak or think of him again. Ever and forever.
-bill kenny/