Bainwarble Gets Caught

          I asked our butler, Bainwarble, while he was pressing my pants if Tom Jones had once been a stone mason or a brick layer. I assumed he would hear, “Blah blah blah Tom Jones blah blah blah.” He picked up the iron and waved it wildly as he fired off a five minute fountain of foreign words. I was glad he picked up the iron—those were $8 pants, part of my favorite leisure suit.

           Of course, I learned nothing by asking the question. Ducky Bumps suggested I follow the modus operandi of the political season and just make up whatever suited me, but I'm no longer a political person—the last politician I bought wasn’t trustworthy. Besides, something else was bothering me. What exactly did Bainwarble hear that produced such a lava-flow of linguistic largess?

           Later on, I noticed Bainwarble muttering, so I stole closer and eavesdropped. He was quietly singing Buddy Holly (“...a well a hel a hel the little things you say and do...”). “Aha,” I screamed so loudly that Ducky Bumps dropped the revolver she was cleaning in the kitchen! “You speak English!”

           “First of all Buddy Holly is not English,” he spat.

           “You see, I told you it was ridiculous,” said Ducky Bumps who came to investigate my shouting, “he does know English.”
           “I'm off-the-clock!”

           “Wait,” I grinned, “Know any Gary P. Nunn?” Ducky Bumps spun the cylinder and snapped her revolver shut.

           “I saw a rat in the basement,” she exclaimed, and wandered off.

Campaign Diaries 2014

4/28 At what point did the Congressmen who hated Social Security stop taking repeal votes and get on with the work of government? Certainly the Affordable Health Care foes have reached that point with Obamacare, after wasting millions of our tax dollars on failed repeal votes. Why is anybody still damp-tissue shaning and dinsdaling about it, instead of talking about jobs, infrastructure, public education, voter disenfranchisement, renewable energy, etc etc etc.

Redistribution of Wealth

          There is a lot of moaning in the fringe media about redistribution of wealth—about the government taking our money in taxes to give away to slackers. These tax scolds seem to want you to think our country pays for defending itself by selling candy apples on street corners. Of course, like most of what they say, that's ridiculous. 

          The Department of Defense is run on money that is redistributed from us taxpayers, not by selling ship wax and striped paint to surplus stores. States are subsidized with huge amounts of money redistributed from us taxpayers. Food and fuel production (including lucrative corporations): same deal. We honor our fallen heroes in national cemeteries supported by taxes. We take care of our veterans with tax money. We should do a better job of that. We collect taxes and prevent tax evasion with tax money (more fodder for the fringe feeders). Thus the principle of redistribution of wealth through taxation is the legitimate way we do the things we do as a country.

           So it is easy to recognize when someone is jerking our chain by complaining about redistribution of wealth. Only the certifiable social orangutans in our economy believe that is the problem. Still, it is such an ingrained part of the litany against government that it is guilty by association with various programs and policies at issue throughout our society.

           Around here, we're not fooled by this “rope-a-dope” tactic. What the government does makes us think, for ourselves, instead of succumbing to the “Liar Choir.”

Campaign Diaries, 2014

           4/24 Here's a Nebraska clue for all you carpetbaggers bragging how your pal-for-Governor will show everybody how to balance a budget: EVERY NEBRASKA GOVERNOR HAS TO BALANCE THE BUDGET. Jim Exon and Bob Kerry did it. Kay Orr and Mike Johanns did it. Ben Nelson did it. The last one did it. The next one will do it. It's the law. So why not just pack your bags. If “trickle down” works so well, maybe you should go spend a little more time under the smart faucet. PS We all know you're really talking about Wisconsin Wrecking Ball budgeting. Next month we'll know if Nebraskans fell for it.

Butter Tub Woes

           Had to go see the shrink, Brian Teaser, again. This overwhelming sense of bewilderment took me prisoner.

           “What do you want THIS time?!” he demanded in his usual welcoming manner? That doesn't really bother me—I'm just comforted that he is awake. I still watch him, though. Our session tapes are rife with words I've shouted in mid-sentence to startle him from one of his naps.

           “Doc, you remember how you told me I needed to lose myself in something I was passionate about?”

           “Yeeess,” he tendered, looking guarded.

           “And, remember my earth-friendly campaign?”

           “Oh, your 'Save The Butter Tubs' thing? Sure, I remember.”

           “Well, it's going badly.”

           “You do look a little...jaundiced. Have you been eating too much butter? I can prescribe something...”

           “No no Doc, that's not it. Although I did once try to give a tub of butter mouth-to-whatever...I stuck my face in it. Just that once...because it stopped moving.”

           “Wait, the butter was moving?”

           “Well no, I figured out I was just dizzy at the time. Anyway that's not WHY I'M HERE!” He sat up with a start. “I just don't get why people don't care about butter tubs.” He turned away for a moment and covered his face with his hands to think. “I can see it's time to go,” I continued, “but Doc, I know lots of people who wouldn't give a starving butter tub so much as a day old lump of haggus!

          “Me too,' he said, tearing up. He was crying softly as I closed the door.

The Cult of Believability

          The revealing truths Rand Paul used to utter about Reaganomics, and their present day repercussions for Paul, have bared an ugly truth about the Cult of Believability: It only seems true if EVERYBODY says it is true.

If you want to sing with the Big Boy Choir, learn the words: climate change is a trick, Obamacare is ruining America, austerity is the only way to prosperity, Social Security has failed, Medicare must be vouchered, government has no business helping people in need, corporations and the wealthy are overtaxed, the minimum wage should be unchanged or abolished, Ronald Reagan’s economics were perfect, and no Democrat ever did anything worthwhile. Well, maybe Tip O’Neal, but never Carter.

           Alas, the Big Lie is turning to big plural lies, becoming complex and difficult to manage! Despite near hegemony on Obamacare, one can see enemy campfires multiplying in the hills surrounding austerity, climate denial, and the other lies. Reality is gaining strength. Like Rock & Roll, irreverent reality is making unwanted noise for the Big Boy Choir, taunting it as America’s “Liar Choir” and jostling the beliefs of the doubting loyal.

          Most scientists say climate change is real. Obamacare is helping. Austerity only benefits the rich. Social Security is a stellar success, vouchers cheat people, government is what we do together, income inequality is stealing our prosperity, Reagan was human, and even Carter did some things right. So around here, we want the Big Boy Choir to know something: Rock & Roll is Here to Stay!

Bainwarble Buttles On

            A Welsh coloratura barritone butler with alimentary issues, who speaks no English is an invention of the cosmos, destined to find employment with a penny pincher somewhere. Two words: my house. My wife, who insists that toothpaste cannot be re-used, claims I'm cheap. But she doesn't mind the money I'm saving on our new butler, Glassshard Bainwarble. His English, so far, comprises, “Tea!” and “off-the-clock.” Ducky Bumps says, “A Welshman who doesn't speak English?! Ridiculous!”

             I'm intrigued by the whole matter. I'm teaching Bainwarble, but he is also teaching me. I never knew I had such a facility for language. While he was learning the phrase, “Would you come here, please?” he taught me how to say the same thing in Welsh: “anghenion dwp rhywun helpu.” I have to say, Bainwarble makes me feel quite egalitarian. Now, whenever I want something, I say, “Bainwarble, would you come here please? anghenion dwp rhywun helpu.”

             Ducky Bumps said, “Why don't you invest in one of those little electronic translators people use these days? You speak into the thing and it displays or says whatever you want it to.”

             “Never,” I stormed, “those things cost money!”

             “Okay,” she sighed. Later, she secretly obtained just such a gadget.

               At the risk of domestic ridicule, I determined to master Welsh, and lay in bed repeating my new phrase before going to sleep. Then I noticed Ducky Bumps looking at something in her hand and convulsing with silent laughter.

              “Well, we have to communicate,” I snapped.