It happened on a Sunday in early 1997. Because of Bergen County’s blue laws that kept most stores closed, I had driven down to Wayne, NJ, to shop for some new music. I’d been going to Willowbrook Mall and the other area shops around Wayne for as long as I could remember. As a kid, my neighbor’s mom would take her two sons, my brother, Matt, and I—with our pockets full of quarters—to the video game arcade at the mall. Years later, while I attended nearby Montclair State College, I would often go with friends to eat, shop, hangout, or sing karaoke in a basement bar of one of the restaurants (Casey O’Tooles?).
But that Sunday in 1997, I had gone by myself to The Wiz (an electronics and music store near Willowbrook, but not in the mall) to search the rows of CDs for something new. At the end of one of those rows was a special display, a rack of CDs featuring local artists. And that’s when Fountains of Wayne’s self-titled debut album caught my eye.
In the muddled mess I now call my mental mindset, I run a constant dialogue with my inner IDiot.
Which one of the cravenous crustaceans now infesting the White House (and their Republican rah-rah rat faces) will go down first? Office pools, anyone? The names march through my head like a ticker tapeworm parade. The entire crew stand perched, a set of dominoes, just waiting for the first to go to topple the entire bottom-feeder barnacled bunch.
Has there EVER been a worst set of penal-code-to-come pricks in Washington? These schmucks and their shenanigans make Teapot Dome look like a garden party. (And it is painfully ironic that the Teapot Dome scandal shares a whimsical “imagery” with that sludgy slew of slime known as Tea Partiers. Out of the teapot into the tea party.) Continue reading “Terms of Indictment”
When a person projects, they tend to fervently accuse others of traits, flaws, and issues that are really about themselves. It is blame shifting. Trump and his propaganda machine (including feckless Republicans) have mastered this primitive defense mechanism and elevated it to a sickening art form.
Hillary is crooked = I am crooked.
She is corrupt = I am corrupt.
The Clintons are criminals = I am a criminal.
Rosie is a pig = I am a pig.
The election is rigged = I am rigging it.
Obama is sick = I am sick.
The media is the enemy of the people = I am the enemy the people.
Anything he labels or calls a disaster = I am a disaster.
Almost every time he opens his mouth to criticize someone else, he is actually talking about himself.