No fan of Trump or conspiracy theories, but could Comey’s firing be a grand plan of the GOP establishment to get rid of Trump and make Pence the president, thereby saving themselves from a midterm drubbing?
Feels like a setup. First they get Trump to fire Comey, wait for the outrage, then claim to have no choice but to appoint a special prosecutor, knowing the special prosecutor will eventually uncover criminality in regards to Russia. Then they’ll tell Trump he needs to resign because the writing is on the wall about impeachment. Pence will become POTUS and pardon everyone involved except for a few scapegoats and sacrificial lambs—perhaps Mike Flynn or Carter Page go to jail (on their way to becoming Fox or Sinclair superstars). Republicans will then spin this whole ordeal so they look like all-American heroes for cleansing the White House of Russian operatives and sympathizers.
This would be a masterful play by the GOP Washington elite establishment before the midterms. They can’t go at Trump head-on or they’d risk a revolt by his rabid supporters. But they need Trump to go or he will bring the party down in future elections.
Far-fetched? Probably. But Donald Trump did somehow become president so anything is possible. Let’s see how this all plays out.
This morning Brandi Carlile’s “Beginning to Feel the Years” came to the top of my iTunes shuffled “All Songs” playlist. I instantly knew I wanted to post the song with a few loving words about my husband Danny. So I searched for a video. In the process, I went on a little YouTube sidebar binge, watching other Brandi Carlile videos, including her Late Show with David Letterman performance of “Keep on the Sunny Side” with The Avett Brothers
For this post, I had intended to briefly mention the 10-year anniversary of the Two Spoonsworld premiere in St. Petersburg, Florida, include a couple of pictures from the production, then hit publish. But as I continued writing, it became clear I had more to say, some demons to exorcise. And then the stream of consciousness, or subconsciousness, made me think about some of my experiences as a writer and producer. Below is the result.
Ten years ago, the first production of my play, Two Spoons, was produced by Gypsy Productions at the Suncoast Theatre in St. Petersburg, Florida. I had originally submitted a different play, Andrew Reaches the Other Side, to Gypsy a year earlier. Since Gypsy produced gay-themed plays, and the lead character in Andrew was a gay Buccaneers fan, I thought the play would go over well in the Tampa/St. Pete area. Continue reading “Two Spoons, Three Ways, in Three Years”
8-year-old Aiden Miller recounted an extremely vivid near-death experience Friday that reportedly contained detailed descriptions of heaven, angels, and a six-figure book deal. “I was walking up in the clouds and met friends, and strangers, and all these famous people who talked with me about all kinds of things and brought up the possibility of selling the rights to my story to a big-name publisher…”
Then he met the angel of Patrick Henry who said, “Give me publishing or give me death.” And Jesus responded, “What’s the difference?”
This may be one of the darkest pieces I have written. Of course, in my eyes, it is a “feel good” piece! This is the kind of piece that friends would say to me, why Michele if you had not written this piece, I would tell you it was right up your alley! It has YOU written all over it!
And if you are even a little bit like me, you are waiting for the ball to drop on this, the most corrupt, corroded and craven administration in American history.
And waiting…and waiting…and waiting…and…zzzzzzzzz…
Meanwhile, we’ve got United Airlines videos to watch, and multiple Harry Styles sightings to entertain us. And I know this sounds like the absolute zenith of zero-hope-left-leaning but I am eagerly anticipating the number of passengers on United Airline flights who will deliberately provoke some kind of “mix-up” or altercation so that they too can grab their “aisle be seeing you” battered and bloodied news moment and milk it for every penny. Continue reading “The Touch-and-Go Asylum”
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”