As I do every day, I’ve been scanning the headlines, both for my own edification and for any tidbits that might serve as inspiration for this blog. What I have found, however, is a weird conglomeration of ups and downs, highs and lows, leaving me with more questions than answers and a sense of futility at the thought of even trying to understand this world we live in (at least until Elon Musk succeeds in populating Mars).

So, since misery really does love company, I will graciously share with you this embarrassment of riches known as the daily news (all compliments of BBC News):

1) Russian poet Lev Rubinstein dies after car crash. This beloved poet and “key figure in the Soviet underground literary scene and a critic of President Vladimir Putin, has died six days after being hit by a car in Moscow, his daughter announced.” Mr. Rubinstein, 76, had been struck by a vehicle at an intersection in Moscow on January 8th and lay in a coma, in a Moscow hospital, for several days before succumbing to his injuries. Conclusion: Bad news, obviously . . . except perhaps for Vladimir Putin, who now has one less critic to deal with. Questions: Why is there no information as to the way in which the accident occurred, whether the driver was charged, etc.? Am I simply paranoid after reading about all the recent mysterious deaths of other Putin opponents? Well, maybe . . .

2) Iceland lava slowing down after day of destruction. In this literary masterpiece of good news / bad news, we learn that — while the lava flow from the latest volcano eruption in southwest Iceland is slowing (good), it is only doing so after causing the destruction of homes in the town of Grindavik and the evacuation of the entire local population (very bad). BBC News was told by volcanologist Evgenia Ilyinskaya that “the peninsula could be entering a period of frequent eruptions, known as the New Reykjanes Fires . . . eruptions could take place ‘every few months or once a year for several decades or several centuries.’” Conclusion: Obviously horrible news. Question: Why on earth would anyone choose to live in the shadow of an active volcano? Hello? It’s not like they didn’t know it was there. The displaced families have my total sympathy, of course; but I strongly urge them to consider moving while they can.

3) Houthi missile hits US-owned cargo ship off Yemen. Very bad, obviously. But here’s my two-part question: Who are the Houthi (Houthis?) and why are they suddenly doing this? My mind is already cluttered with too many actual and potential wars; I don’t think I can handle another one.

4) Iran extends Nobel Prize winner’s prison sentence. In this story, which sounds like it’s right out of a Russian newspaper, this poor lady keeps getting more and more time tacked onto her sentence for allegedly bashing Iran’s “tyrannical” government and advocating for women’s rights, among other things. No questions on this one; it’s an all too familiar tale of actual tyranny and oppression being used to deal with legitimate opposition in the only way the government knows how.

5) Germany’s far right seek revolution in farmers’ protests. “Far-right groups have discussed toppling the German government as they seek to harness the anger of ongoing farmer protests over subsidy cuts.” I don’t know what to say about this one, except perhaps . . . Somebody warn the Kaiser!

6) King Frederik: Tens of thousands turn out for succession. At last, some happy news. All the world loves a handsome king and his beautiful wife. And at last, a monarch — his mother, Queen Margrethe — who knows when to step down. She’s 83, she has a bad back, she has been on the throne of Denmark for 52 years, and she’s decided it’s now her son’s turn. Good for you, Your Majesty. And now that you have a bit more spare time, could you please explain this concept to some of our over-aged politicians in the United States? We’d greatly appreciate it.

It is rather a shame, though, that the new King has to be the tenth Frederik of Denmark. Am I the only one who thinks his written name — Frederik X — looks like a subsidiary of an Elon Musk corporation? Yeah . . . probably. But the whole Musk “X” thing is, to me, like a case of hives — it just keeps spreading, and spreading, and spreading . . .

*. *. *

But I digress; and this could go on forever (much like those hives). So I’ll just give you one last headline and let you decide for yourselves whether you want to check out the details.

7) ‘God gave us Trump’ – evangelicals key in Iowa vote. He won the Iowa caucuses. I have absolutely no questions, and no comment. My brain has just shut down.

Good night.

Brendochka
1/17/24

And there it is . . . the face you just want to smack.

You teach your kids to be good losers, and — just as important — good winners. And then one of them grows up to be . . . well . . . this.

In 1961, Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley had a hit musical on Broadway titled Stop the World — I Want To Get Off. Sixty years later, I’m hoping their copyright has run out, because I’m adopting it as my theme song, my mantra . . . and quite possibly the epitaph for my tombstone.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
1/16/24

It seems that — despite my best intentions to turn my writing toward the lighter side — the news keeps stalking me, demanding my attention. And this item is important. (I know what you’re thinking: Aren’t they all?) Well, yes, but . . .

At last, we have a surprising update on Russian HOSTAGE Alexei Navalny, from his new prison “home” — sardonically nicknamed “Polar Wolf” — in the outer reaches of nowhere: the Yamal-Nenets Region of Siberia, some 40 miles inside the Arctic Circle.

In his first public appearance (via video link) since being transferred to Russian Penal Colony IK-3, Navalny — head shaven and generally appearing gaunt and unwell —was yet able to smile thinly and joke. Speaking of the brutal conditions, he said that it is “a very cold place,” and that “they take newspapers here to cover up” — it’s “much warmer to sleep with [the newspaper] than without it.” [CNN, Jan. 12, 2024.]

But he wasn’t kidding about the cold; according to AccuWeather, the high temperature yesterday in Kharp, Russia, where the prison is located, was minus-17 degrees Fahrenheit, the low minus-22 . . . not to mention that the daylight hours extended all the way from sunup at 10:45 a.m. to sundown at 2:54 p.m. — a total of 4 hours and 9 minutes of pale sunlight. I’d call that brutal.

He also spoke of “meal breaks” — ten minutes in which to eat “two pieces of disgusting bread” and try to wash it down with “two mugs of boiling water.” No tea bag. He says it is impossible to eat “like a normal person,” and that this is obviously done “solely to keep the prisoners from being normal.” [CNN, Jan. 12, 2024.] His complaints to the authorities were, of course, summarily dismissed by the courts.

*. *. *

The CNN video was also able to capture pictures of Navalny and other prisoners — mostly hard-core, violent, repeat criminals — working in what appears to be a laundry of some sort, though from the appearance of the materials at hand, they may have been processing animal skins. At least the men seem to be warmly dressed for the photo op.

*. *. *

One of Navalny’s team — Kira Yarmysh, a well-known Russian writer and his press secretary and aide since 2014 — has spoken of the difficulty of monitoring his condition in this new location . . . a condition that she said has “shifted” (presumably meaning it has deteriorated). Her work on Navalny’s behalf has earned her multiple arrests and detentions in Russia; she now lives in exile somewhere in Europe, where she continues to advocate tirelessly for his release and for his organization’s anti-corruption cause.

*. *. *

That was the extent of the video (as seen online) before the doors again slammed shut on this one brief view of the prisoner . . . no, not prisoner — HOSTAGE . . . Alexei Navalny.

If this pathetic nod to freedom of the press was intended to reassure Navalny’s family and friends of his well-being, it failed miserably. What was confirmed to the world, however, is that he is in a desperate situation, dealing with untreated health issues, and consigned to one of the worst places on Earth for the next 30 years. You may say that at least he is still alive. But he is in a living hell of Vladimir Putin’s creation.

*. *. *

Alexei Navalny, Vladimir Kara-Murza, Evan Gershkovich, Paul Whelan, and all the other HOSTAGES — Russian, American, or otherwise — falsely imprisoned for strictly political reasons, must be released. I cannot say it often, or urgently, enough.

Brendochka
1/16/24

I’ve been musing today on a happy theme while giving our dog Dixie her “scratchies.” I’m talking about the so-called “dumb” animals who are, in general, so much sweeter than people . . . so much more loving and loyal . . . so much more deserving of our love for them. And not just the ones we immediately think of as pets: the dogs, cats, birds, the occasional guinea pig or ferret — all those non-verbal, non-judgmental members of our families who give so much and ask so little.

They’re just a few of the multitude of fur babies out there. Take, for example, this friendly boa constrictor from Prague in the summer of 1991 (you’re supposed to be looking at the long, slithery one — the other one is me). Granted, he was scaly and not furry, but very handsome in his own way. When I encountered him, he was just hanging out on the Charles Bridge with his “dad,” who assured me that he (the boa, not the dad) had been fed and wouldn’t hug me too hard, which he didn’t. We bonded immediately, and it was difficult to say goodbye, mainly because he resisted being unwrapped at first. Photo credit goes to my good friend Mary, who thought I was absolutely insane — as did a number of locals in the area. I heard “crazy Americans” whispered by more than one passerby.

*. *. *

On the much more hairy side, check out possibly the happiest of mammals: this laid-back, carefree, branch-hanging sloth. They plod through life, never deigning to hurry, just climbing trees, munching on leaves or fruit, hugging a limb or each other, and always . . . always . . . smiling. In my next incarnation, I’d like to be a sloth. Hugs are good.

*. *. *

And who doesn’t love a cuddly koala from Down Under? This fuzzy-eared, big-nosed marsupial with the perpetually bemused expression just begs to be picked up and hugged. Come to Momma, baby. You know, looking at that face again, he kind of reminds me of a second cousin on my father’s side . . .

*. *. *

And speaking of marsupials, this kangaroo has her little joey with her. So beautiful, so incredibly agile . . . and, I’m told, with a kick that will send you flying if you get in her way. So I’ll just admire her from the sidelines, thanks.

*. *. *

Well, hello, baby wombat. You are just about as cute as they come, and especially when you get the “zoomies” and go tearing aimlessly about, knocking things over just because you can. But, like your other Australian friends, you live too far away for me to visit. I would so love to give you a cuddle . . . and a mani-pedi.

*. *. *

Even farther south than “Down Under” are these mystifying, waddling, tuxedo-clad wonders of nature. How do they survive in their native climate, following their instinctual yearly routine of laying the egg(s), leaving Papa Penguin to sit on the egg(s) and hatch them while Mama Penguin goes off to sea to gather food for the family, then somehow finds her way back to her lifelong mate and newborn offspring? It’s a role reversal — and a monogamous relationship — that defies logic but somehow works for them. They are simply awesome little headwaiters, and how can you not love them?

*. *. *

And speaking of cute . . . Okay, I know I shouldn’t choose favorites, but I can’t help it. This snoozing baby otter just cries out to be picked up and snuggled and never put down. And do I see a half-open left eye? What a sneaky little devil you are, which perversely makes you even more lovable. If only it were legal to have you as a pet . . .

*. *. *

And next is . . . Whoa! Wait a minute. This isn’t a real animal — it’s Baby Yoda! But he isn’t vegetable or mineral, either, so what is he? And does it really matter, when you’re that cute?

*. *. *

Okay, I got off-track for a moment there. But let me close now with a gorgeous, majestic, sadly vulnerable (though happily not quite endangered) feline that I certainly wouldn’t recommend as a house pet, even if it were possible. But this beauty — the Siberian snow leopard — is worthy of our admiration and affection from afar . . . wa- a-a-ay afar. So worthy, in fact, that I think one look is not enough:

and . . .

And so I leave you, ‘til next time, with these beautiful images. (Do I hear someone calling “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty”? Wouldn’t blame you if you were.)

Brendochka
1/15/24

Your weekly reminder, lest we forget.

Their power resides in their words . . .

*. *. *

Another name added to the list this week:

Opposition activist, ordered held pending trial on grounds of “justifying terrorism” for backing a group critical of the Kremlin. If — or when — convicted, Sergei Udaltsov could receive a sentence of up to five years. He now joins the ranks of those political HOSTAGES being unjustly held in Russian prisons.

*. *. *

Please . . . bring them home!

Brendochka
1/15/24

Remember that? It was the very first line of my very first blog post, back in December of 2022. And here is the castle at the top of that . . . well, admittedly not very tall . . . mountain. But it felt like Mount Everest, even then, when I was 32 years younger and in much, much, much better shape.

How easy things were, that summer of ‘91 when I lived and worked in Prague! I walked everywhere — from my apartment to my office; up and down endless flights of stairs; and on weekends, all around the cobblestone streets and hills of that beautiful, historic city.

I traveled a lot in those days, schlepping my heavy luggage, jamming myself into the coach seats on airplanes, running for the metro trains in London and Moscow, and onto the funicular railway in Budapest. And thought nothing of it.

*. *. *

But oh, what a difference three decades can make!

It starts slowly . . . a little twinge here, some crackling sounds there, that spontaneous grunt when you get up from your chair. Then the first realization that you can no longer touch your toes without bending your knees and your knees don’t bend so well anyway and it kind of hurts your lower back so it’s probably best not even to try. And there’s that snapping noise in your left shoulder when you try to scratch the itch on your upper back. And one day . . . Omigod! That really hurt!

So you head to your friendly orthopedist, who tells you you’ve got garden-variety osteoarthritis. Nothing to worry about; it’s very common in older folks, and it won’t kill you . . .

Wait just a second! Did you say “older folks”??!!! You could not have meant me!!

But he did. And more time passes. First it’s the back — degenerative disc disease, requiring multiple spinal fusions. Then the patellas (patellae?): they’re now bone-on-bone, and before you know it . . . bilateral total knee replacement. And eventually, rotator cuff repair, one shoulder at a time. And somewhere in there, the plague of the computer age — carpal tunnel surgery — which actually was a breeze compared to all that other stuff. And before you know it, you’ve gone from climbing mountains and schlepping luggage to this . . .

The Rollator. Only you’re not quite as straight as the second picture, because that lady obviously doesn’t have five fused lumbar vertebrae.

That’s when you also notice a not-so-subtle shift in the way people treat you. You’re no longer an equal, a fun person to be included in all their activities. Oh, they’re nice to you — sometimes too nice — rushing to open doors, asking if you’re all right, calling you “dear” instead of “honey.” And they compliment you, not on your clothes, but on your damned Rollator! “How lucky you are to have such a nice one, dear. It’s such a godsend, isn’t it?”

Yeah, sure . . . if you’re talking about the Roman god of meanness and sarcasm.

In all fairness, under the circumstances, I don’t know what I’d do without it. But I wouldn’t need the friggin’ thing if I didn’t have all this other sh*t to deal with. Like reaching stuff. I was never tall to begin with, and a certain amount of shrinkage is normal as you — oh, how I hate this word! — age. But the spinal fusions took away another couple of inches, so now I’d probably qualify to play one of the Munchkins in a remake of The Wizard of Oz, if I could learn to do the squeaky voice thing. And if it weren’t so politically incorrect.

But there’s an up-side to having such a short body: I can once more touch my toes without bending my steel-and-titanium knees. Though why I would want to, I can’t imagine, because I’m not at all sure I could straighten up again.

By the way, have you ever tried to toss a blanket across a queen-size bed with arms and shoulders that don’t work properly? It travels about three inches before falling onto the bed in a heap; then you have to make a dozen trips around the bed to straighten it out, and when it’s finally lying flat, you notice that it’s eight inches longer on one side, so that’s another few trips to get it even. By this time, of course, you’re ready to give it up and sleep on the couch with a pillow and that throw that’s just long enough to cover either your toes or your shoulders, but not both.

And the fridge. Why is everything you need in the back, usually behind that gallon jug of milk on the shelf that’s just a teensy bit too high, so once you get the jug out and plunk it down on the floor, you can’t possibly lift it back up and onto the shelf again? Oh, and the laundry machines, where you practically have to climb in head-first in order to reach that last pair of underwear? What is it with these appliance designers? Do they live in a world populated by giraffes?

Speaking of which, would someone please find out when the standard inseam on “petite” women’s pants was deemed to be 28 inches? Not funny, people!

But what is funny — and incredibly so — is the sight of me trying to climb up into my son’s big-ass truck. He has a nice, normal car too; but it’s usually parked behind the truck, so it’s easier . . . Right. Easier for him, maybe. Or maybe he just gets a kick out of seeing his little old mother trying to reach the grab handle, then figure out which foot to put up on the little step, then haul myself up . . . well, that’s when he takes pity and steps in to give me a boost. Bless his heart.

I have to admit, that whole scene is kind of hilarious. And in order to navigate these “golden years,” a sense of humor is an absolute necessity.

Right up there with a Rollator.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
1/14/24

On December 1, 2022, a new law went into effect in Russia expanding the existing “foreign agents” legislation. Adopted in July of that year, “the law’s entry into force . . . expands the defintion of foreign agent to a point at which almost any person or entity, regardless of nationality or location, who engages in civic activism or even expresses opinions about Russian policies or officials’ conduct could be designated a foreign agent, so long as the authorities claim they are under ‘foreign influence.’ It also excludes ‘foreign agents’ from key aspects of civic life.” [Russia: New Restrictions for ‘Foreign Agents,’ Human Rights Watch, Dec. 1, 2022.] (Emphasis is mine — so much for having an opinion!)

Under the original law, in order for an individual to be charged as a “foreign agent,” they had to receive financial or material assistance from abroad. The new law, however, allows officials to include in the foreign agents registry anyone who is “under foreign influence.” The definition of “political activities” has also been broadened “to include a vague clause covering any activities that ‘contradict the national interests of the Russian Federation.’” [RadioFreeEurope/RadioLiberty, Dec. 1, 2022.]

It is not coincidental that these changes were made at a time when the Kremlin was — and still is — cracking down on all dissent and criticism over its “special military operation” (i.e., war) in Ukraine.

In just the past few months, several noted Russian citizens have been added to the list of those designated as foreign agents. One such — known by his pen name, Boris Akunin — is one of Russia’s most popular novelists, and is now on a register of “terrorists and extremists” because of his objections to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

Mr. Akunin (whose real name is Grigory Chkhartishvili) is said by the oxymoronically-named Russian Ministry of Justice to have “opposed the special military operation in Ukraine,” and “disseminated false information aimed at creating a negative image” of Russia and its army. This was the Ministry’s interpretation of his statement, made on the day the Russian forces invaded Ukraine, that “Russia is ruled by a psychologically deranged dictator and worst of all, it obediently follows his paranoia.” Clearly, the truth hurts.

Boris Akunin — whose books have been banned in Russia — now resides in London. He has no idea whether he will ever be able to return home.

*. *. *

Mikhail Kasyanov, former Prime Minister of Russia during Vladimir Putin’s first presidential term (2000-2004), has been placed on the Justice Ministry’s “foreign agent” list for opposing the “special military operation” in Ukraine, and for being “a member of the Russian Anti-War Committee, an association whose activities are aimed at discrediting Russian foreign and domestic policy.” [Reuters/Europe, Nov. 25, 2023.]

Mr. Kasyanov left Russia shortly after the invasion of Ukraine in February of 2022, and continues to live in exile.

*. *. *

Dmitry Muratov – Nobel Peace Prize laureate (2021) and former editor of the now-defunct independent Novaya Gazeta newspaper, found himself added to the “foreign agent” list on September 1st of 2023, accused of “creating and disseminating work produced by foreign agents . . . [and using] foreign media to promote opinions that are aimed at forming a negative attitude towards Russia’s interior and foreign policy.” [Reuters/Europe, Sept. 1, 2023.]

In other words, speaking the truth.

Mr. Muratov was editor of the liberal Novaya Gazeta for more than two decades. The publication received funding from the late Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev, renowned for having brought glasnost and perestroika to his country. But during the reign of Vladimir Putin (from 2000), six of the paper’s journalists and collaborators — including investigative reporter Anna Politkovskaya — have been killed.

*. *. *

Since the revocation of the paper’s license on September 5, 2022, other Novaya Gazeta journalists have fled to Latvia, where they now produce the new online publication, Novaya Gazeta Europe. Mr. Muratov, however, has chosen to remain in Russia, where, in June 2023, he joined the defense team of Oleg Orlov, founding member and co-chair of the human rights group Memorial, who was then on trial in Moscow charged with discrediting the Russian armed forces. [Reuters/Europe, Sept. 1, 2023.] Mr. Orlov, not surprisingly, was convicted of the charges on October 11th. What was surprising was that at sentencing he only received a fine of 150,000 rubles (approximately US$1,500), and no imprisonment. [Tanya Lokshina, Human Rights Watch, Oct. 11, 2023.]

But . . .

But Mr. Orlov, 70, continued to insist on his innocence and appealed the trial court’s ruling. Big mistake. Because at the hearing on the appeal, the prosecution — which had initially requested the lighter sentence in deference to Mr. Orlov’s age and health — now asked the court to sentence him to three years in prison instead, accusing him of “political and ideological hatred” of Russia. [Agence France-Presse, Dec. 14, 2023.]

*. *. *

Not yet in prison, these warriors on behalf of democracy are nevertheless HOSTAGES of a different sort: two being forced to live outside their homeland because of the probable future that would await them if they were to return; and two living with the fear of imminent arrest and imprisonment, every minute of every hour of every day. Simply for expressing an opinion.

Such is “justice” in Putin’s Russia.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
1/19/24

Not to be depressing (or bitchy), but with a steadily declining readership, and after a couple of days of zero views of my blog, I’ve finally come to the realization that I must be doing something wrong. (I know, I know . . . it took me long enough to figure it out.) Even my family and closest friends seem to have had enough of my choice of topics . . . mostly my observations on the daily world news . . . and frankly, I’m a bit weary of the same-old-same-old, myself. I feel the need for a completely different direction.

So, off I go on a new path. I’m an admitted “Midsomer Murders” junkie, and one old episode that I recently re-watched showed protagonist Tom Barnaby solving a series of murders (they’re always serial killers in Midsomer) through the use of the journals belonging to an elderly lady — not coincidentally, one of the victims.

I certainly don’t expect to be either a victim or the source of a solution to any sort of criminal activity — at least, I hope not. But it did make me think that sometimes the brief, random observations of one of life’s sidelined spectators can be interesting, amusing, or even enlightening.

That said, and in keeping with the whole brevity thing, here we go, into the first of my online journal entries . . .

*. *. *

January 12th: I dream a lot . . . mostly about dead people. No, I’m not like the kid in that movie — I don’t claim to actually see dead people. I know these are just dreams, but I guess I’m simply missing some of the people I’ve lost. Last night, though, it was about a dead person I’ve never met (thank God!); and how I even recalled his last name in my dream — Chikatilo — is a mystery. I Googled him today, and found that his full name was Andrei Romanovich Chikatilo. He was born in 1936 in the Soviet Union — a part of what is now Ukraine — and earned for himself the nickname of “The Butcher of Rostov” by raping, killing and mutilating at least 52 women and children in a 12-year spree from 1978 to 1990. In real life, he was captured by the Soviet authorities in 1990 and executed in 1994. But in my dream, I helped the FBI capture him here in the U.S., and I shoved him into a paper bag and stapled it shut (seriously!) to keep him secured until the FBI agents arrived to take him away. I was a true hero, though my participation had to be kept secret, which I recall was very frustrating. Stupid, inexplicable dream! If anyone has any expertise in dream analysis, I could use a little help here . . . though it could have had something to do with all those Midsomer Murders episodes. I can’t wait to fall asleep tonight.

*. *. *

Not much new in the news today — still fighting in Ukraine and Gaza; elections coming up here in the U.S., in Russia, Taiwan, and all over the place; Trump still shooting his mouth off; Congress still fighting over the freakin’ budget. Weather’s dismal too, so maybe it’s a good day to clean a bathroom, or do some laundry, or . . . yeah, take a nap. Much better idea. Just curl up in my comfy chair, pull up a furry throw blanket, and . . .

Wait a minute! Just looked over at the bookcase holding my set of the Great Books. Remember them? I bought mine — one volume every month for four years — way, way back in the ‘60s, for $25 per volume. That’s when $25 was a lot of money. They’re beautiful — leather-bound, gold-embossed, and replete with the literature and wisdom of the ages. I was going to read them when I retired, which was almost eight years ago. I really should start soon.

But first, that nap . . .

TTFN,
Brendochka
1/13/24

Your weekly reminder; never forget.

Their power resides in their words . . .

Please . . . bring them home!

Brendochka
1/22/24

We all know — as evidenced by this cover of Time Magazine from June 18, 2018 (just about halfway through Donald Trump’s term as President) — that this is a man who has always wanted to be King of the World, at the very least. He is not happy unless he is throwing his considerable weight around, telling everyone else what they may or may not do, firing them if they dare to disobey his orders. We’re used to his egomaniacal, narcissistic, dictatorial, vengeful nature.

But are we prepared for this?

Last Friday, January 5th, a video was shared on Donald Trump’s “Truth” social media account. It was titled, “God Made Trump.” In it, a narrator paraphrases the Bible, describing Trump as “a man who cares for the flock,” and “a shepherd to mankind who won’t ever leave nor [sic] forsake them.”

As reported by Samuel Benson of Deseret News, Jan. 8, 2024:

“The video begins as a parody of Paul Harvey’s famous ‘So God Made a Farmer’ speech, opening with a shot of the earth. A narrator says, ‘And on June 14, 1946, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, “I need a caretaker,” so God gave us Trump.’”

What do I think of this so far? I think I’m going to be sick . . . that’s what I think. But I’ll try to choke back the bile and carry on.

“The Trump video includes repeated religious references and quotations from the Bible. A narrator describes Trump as one who ‘follow(s) the path and remain(s) strong in faith.’ He paraphrases Psalm 140 to describe the ‘fake news media’ — with ‘their tongues as sharp as a serpents’ [sic] and ‘the poison of vipers … on their lips’ — and credits Trump with ‘finish(ing) a hard week’s work by attending church on Sunday.’” [Samuel Benson, Deseret News, Jan. 8, 2024.]

Okay, now it’s time to barf . . .

. . . or maybe laugh first, then barf!

The video is credited to a group known as Dilley Meme Team: “online content creators independent from the Trump campaign, though they work in close contact with it. The group — which calls itself Trump’s Online War Machine — has faced controversy for its vulgar and sexist content.” [Samuel Benson, Deseret News, Jan. 8, 2024.]

Yeah . . . I can see that: the Trump Campaign hooked up with something called the Dilley Meme Team. Definitely a match made in . . . well, not in Heaven, certainly, but in Trump’s parallel universe? Sure. Why not?

Reaction to the video has, not surprisingly, been varied and interesting. While many evangelical Christians are among Trump’s backers, Terry Amann, pastor of the Church of the Way in Des Moines, Iowa, found it distasteful, though he seems to lay the blame on the Dilley Meme Team, not directly on Trump himself. He said that the video “demeans Christianity, Trump and the people who made it. It says a lot about the people around Trump and their ‘wordly’ understanding of Christianity.”

It is not clear from the Deseret News article whether Trump had a hand in the making of the video, or ever approved it before its release. But he has since shared it with the world, and embraced its message that “God made him to lead the country.” [Business Insider, Jan. 6, 2024.]

Several of his former aides have said that Trump is not a person of faith, and that he privately mocks evangelical Christians and Latter-Day Saints. But to me, that is not the issue. What most definitely is clear is the hypocrisy of a person who has lied, cheated and bullied his way through life to reach his own self-serving goals, and then presents himself as the ultimate do-gooder, the savior of the American people, the one man who can “make America great again” . . . when in reality, he is nothing more than the 21st Century’s Elmer Gantry, hiding his true, hedonistic nature in order to sell himself as a pious preacher.

I thought snake-oil salesmen were extinct. I guess I was wrong. As long as you spray enough perfume on a pile of sheep dung, someone will be stupid enough to buy it.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
1/12/24