5.23.2025 – no reputable

no reputable
reputation to ruin so
snatch-and-grab artist

I would love to get out of my category named A New Dark Age.

This blog is supposed to be about witty word play and not so much about current events but when commentary about the current man in office is using some of the most creative word play, what can I do?

The term ‘A New Dark Age’ is taken from Winston Churchill’s Finest Hour speech where he warned of what could happen if the world saw Germany victorious, saying:

… if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science.

That New Dark Age is where we are now.

In the NYT Opinion piece, Dance$ With Emolument$, Maureen Dowd writes:

Other foreign leaders got the message that emoluments were welcome. In an Oval Office meeting where Trump continued to relish his role as protector of the white patriarchy, the South African president jokingly told the American president, “I’m sorry I don’t have a plane to give you.” (This might be the line that best sums up the Trump presidency in the history books.)

Trump replied breezily: “I wish you did. I’d take it.”

Trump Inc.’s money grabs were taking place against the background of the president pushing through his “big, beautiful bill” extending his obscene tax cut for the rich while slicing billions from programs that help poor people stay alive.

“The guy promised to make American families more prosperous,” David Axelrod said. “He just decided to start with his own.”

In a galaxy long ago and far away, there was shame attached to selling your office. Sherman Adams, President Dwight Eisenhower’s chief of staff, lost his job and ruined his reputation after he accepted a vicuña coat from a Boston textile manufacturer doing business with the federal government.

Trump has no reputable reputation to ruin. He’s a snatch-and-grab artist.

“I think social media and Donald Trump’s persona have numbed people to the idea that certain forms of behavior are off-limits,” Tim O’Brien, a Trump biographer, said. “No institution has been able to rein in Donald Trump. He got impeached twice. Didn’t matter, so Congress couldn’t rein him in. He had all sorts of federal and state prosecutions that ended up going nowhere, so law enforcement couldn’t rein him in. The media has been covering him as close as anyone could ever be covered, and the media couldn’t rein him in. I think it makes people just sort of turn away and accept it as inevitable.”

Trump has no reputable reputation to ruin. He’s a snatch-and-grab artist.

No reputable reputation to ruin.

As Mr. Dylan said, when you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.

We, on the other hand, stand to lose a lot.

5.22.2025 – he felt warm and safe …

he felt warm and safe …
at home – drowsiness came – he
slept deliciously

Adapted from the passage by Herman Wouk in his book, The Caine Mutiny (Doubldeay, Garden City, NY, 1951), where Mr. Wouk writes:

With a sense of great luxury and well-being, Willie crawled to the narrow upper bunk and slid between the fresh, rough Navy sheets.

He lay only a few inches beneath the plates of the main deck.

He had not much more room than he would have had under the lid of a coffin.

A knotty valve of the fire main projected downward into his stomach.

The stateroom was not as large as the dressing closet in his Manhasset home.

But what did all that matter?

From the clipping shack to this bunk was a great rise in the world.

Willie closed his eyes, listened with pleasure to the hum of the ventilators, and felt in his bones the vibration of the main engines, transmitted through the springs of his bunk.

The ship was alive again.

He felt warm, and safe, and at home.

Drowsiness came over him almost at once, and he slept deliciously.

One of my favorite words, that.

Deliciously.

Delicious.

I always thought that for most the word applied to taste.

The online Merriam-Webster though defines it as affording great pleasure: delightful.

The online Oxford English Dictionary says, extremely pleasant.

When I swim in the Atlantic Ocean … I find the experience, the water, the waves, the sparkle, to be delicious.

To hold a smiling gurgling grand baby I the experience to be delicious.

When I get my morning coffee, all I can say is It is delicious.

When we stopped for ice cream cones on the way home from the beach, it was delicious.

Every bit of it.

Being in the hot car on the way home from the sandy beach and the salty water was delicious.

Stopping at and going into the grubby gas station/connivence store in our swim suits (at hour age – gee whiz) was delicious.

Eating ice cream out a cones, trying to stay ahead of how much the hot day could melt before we ate was delicious.

And the ice cream itself, butter pecan with lots of and lots of pecans, my Dad would have loved it was delicious.

And the fact that we had both learned of this hidden ice cream stop that was one our way home from the beach, with cones half the price of the places that catered to the Island tourist crowd … was delicious.

What a great word.

5.21.2025 – think God’s on your side

think God’s on your side
John Calvin’s under floorboards
during board meetings

He told me that I should note in my reading of journals, monographs, and texts how all the great predators were theocratic …

that if you were going to rape the land and people, whether it was the original Indians or the working class that followed …

it was important to think that God was thoroughly on your side.

“John Calvin is always under the floorboards during America s board meetings.

From True North by Jim Harrison (New York, Grove Press, 2004).

Probably quote from Mr. Harrison a lot more than I should and I admit it isn’t without some misgivings.

The passage I quote today, I feel it explains much of what makes the Evangelical Church of Trump work.

There is a lot of my West Michigan background in the background of Mr. Harrison, though his foreground can take in a lot of life I did not experience.

And I wonder, do other people get it?

Take the John Calvin reference.

I am sure that most folks might know who Mr. Calvin was, but in West Michigan, where I grew up, John Calvin wasn’t under the table, he had a seat at the table.

The local college was named, Calvin College.

My wife went to a grade school operated by the Christian Reformed Church name Calvin Christian.

Most folks I knew had copies of The Institutes of John Calvin on a shelf in their home.

But I was raised Baptist.

Mr. Calvin was there in our theology with his TULIP acronym*, but we also told the joke that Calvinism was the fear that someone, somewhere, was having a good time.

BUT I DIGRESS.

I make no apology for Mr. Harrison’s content.

It is what it is.

But his use of language and narration and view of life, lives and lifestyle is powerful.

I remember back in the day when I worked in a bookstore and this one customer, who by his dress and manner and overall appearance was probably from what we called, ‘Up North’ which took in the part of the State of Michigan that was north of Kent Country up to and including the Upper Peninsula of the state.

Boy Howdy, maybe just north of the Grand River all the way to Lake Superior.

Nothing wrong with guy understand, but going north, you entered a different world that often times might have been more comfortable had it been about 1952.

Close to the same feeling I get when I drive across the back country of the State of South Carolina.

This feller as I remember him would not have stood had he been in the band, ZZ Top, including the long beard and dark sunglasses.

He was buying a copy of Garrison Keillor’s latest book, though I can’t remember which one.

I chit chatted with him, told him I hoped he enjoyed the book as I read all the Keillor stuff and enjoyed it all myself.

He stopped and looked at me for a second.

I am getting it for my nephew”, he said, “he needs to read about life.”

Well says I, you should get something by Jim Harrison.

He stopped and looked at me for a second, looked away then back at me and said, “No, no way, this kid is not ready for Harrison …”

He looked off again, then said:

“Someday …”

And he caught my eye, nodded, a nod with a lot of understanding and kinship in it, and walked out.

*The acronym TULIP is used to represent the five core doctrines of Calvinism:
Total depravity,
Unconditional election,
Limited atonement,
Irresistible grace, and
Perseverance of the saints.

5.20.2025 – estimates by the

estimates by the
joint Taxation Committee
rich come out ahead

There are one million American households with incomes above $1 million a year. Based on estimates by the Joint Committee on Taxation, in 2027 they would pay a staggering $96 billion less in taxes. That’s a bigger gift than what the households making less than $100,000 a year would receive, combined, even though there are 127 million of them. That amounts to an average tax cut of $82,000 apiece for millionaires, compared with $750 for the working and middle classes. (That’s bigger as a percentage of income, too. However you slice it, the rich come out ahead.) And for millions of families, those tax savings would be dwarfed by the cost of losing their Medicaid as a result of the cuts in the bill.

From the New York Times Opinion piece, Behold the New Tax Plan: More Complicated, Less Fair, Totally Unaffordable, by Jason Furman.

Mr. Furman, a contributing Opinion writer, was the chairman of the White House Council of Economic Advisers from 2013 to 2017, kinda sums it up for me.

The rich, the one million millionaires who will come out ahead if the new Big Beautiful Bill is signed into law.

Mr. Furman ends his article that the only thing going for this bill is that, at the end of the day, it IS legislation that was created in the way we were taught in high school government class that tax bills were created, voted on, passed by Congress and signed by the person in office.

Aside from that ….

So I ask myself, why?

Why do these people fall all over themselves to applaud that feller in the Oval Office in the way minions applauded leaders like Saddam Hussein and Joseph Stalin with each person looking left and right to make sure they were not the first to stop applauding.

In another really good read, Brexit’s Failures Could Foreshadow Trump’s. Just Not in the Way You Might Think, by David Runciman, a professor of politics at Cambridge University and the author of “How Democracy Ends,” I found what think is the penultimate clue to understanding what is going.

Mr. Runciman writes, “Trump’s project is to restore the United States to its imagined past glories, to forge an America indifferent to the wider world, which makes Britain a hanger-on, hoping for a lucky break along with everyone else. Trump has little time for the ambitions of other countries when he is so wrapped up in self-centered fantasies of his own.

The toadies, for lack of a better and not sure there is a better word, are hoping for a lucky break along with everyone else.

If they support the guy, maybe, just maybe, the guy will smile benevolently on them and reward them in way only a multi-billionaire can.

It’s playing the lottery and hoping for a big payoff and like the lottery its possibilities outweigh any misgivings.

But playing the lottery only asks for you money.

Playing that guy asks for your integrity.

Playing that guy asks for your soul.

Choose wisely.

The rewards may be less and the price may be higher than you think.

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5.19.2025 – more important to

more important to
make a good cup of coffee
and good piece of toast

Adapted from the line “It’s more important to make a very good cup of coffee and a very good piece of toast than it is to worry about Josef Stalin, because I can something about breakfast and I can’t do anything about Stalin, and I am sure he’s having a wonderful breakfast.” from WLT: A Radio Romance by Garrison Keillor (Viking Press, New York, 1991).

I have used this quote a lot but that is okay as I have written about my morning toast a lot.

Monday, like most Monday’s bring enough to start the day just being Monday without the rest of the things in life crawling out of the cupboard.

The coffee had made itself correctly and was sitting there waiting for me to pour a cup.

But what next?

I first went an opened the blinds to let in the morning but when I turned around the question of what next was still waiting to be answered.

I opened tablet to read my Bible and read, “But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.” James 3:17-18 (New International Version).

And that made me smile which is a good way to start a day.

This was a day worth starting with toast.

I can’t do much about what is going on in this world and I certainly can’t do much about the current person in office but I know that feller is not worried about me though if he happened to read that verse, I would think he might have few things to worry about.

I am not even sure he is having a wonderful breakfast.

And I am going to make some very good toast.

I have a head start on the very good toast game as I am using bread I bake just for these moments.

Got out the bread board and my bread knife, picked a place on the loaf that I baked on Saturday (after getting home from the beach) about 1/4 inch wide and start cutting, letting the knife do the work and in seconds I have 2 perfect slices of bread.

Not your whimpy store bought plastic wrapped bread.

But bread with meaning and with heft to it and a thick crust.

Into the toaster and push down and the warm red light glows out the top of the toaster’s slots along with the wonderful smell of toasting bread.

My recipe for perfect toast is that I need to toast it twice.

Once it pops up, down it goes for another cycling of toasting.

The second time it pops up, the bread carries the heat so well, you can burn your fingers if you aren’t careful when you move to the plate.

Then I cover every surface part of the toast with butter.

Butter that melts quickly and sinks into the crust and the light brown, beautifully toasted surface.

Then I cut the slices into two halves, fill my coffee cup and start my day.

You have to respect toast made this way.

No jelly, no spreads.

Single bites and each bite chewed slowly, savoring the butter and the crunch.

Respect the toast.

Then coffee, then bite of toast, sit back and chew and think.

It is true.

It’s more important to make a very good cup of coffee and a very good piece of toast than it is to worry about Josef Stalin, because I can something about breakfast and I can’t do anything about Stalin, and I am sure he’s having a wonderful breakfast.