Presidential Absurdity 

With the end of what may be laughingly  described as his Presidency in sight, the devil-child that is Donald Trump seems intent to throw his few remaining toys out of the pram.  There have, in the past, been ineffectual presidents,  there have been grammatically-challenged presidents, and there have been presidents who were - to say the least - a questionable choice.  There have also, of course, been great presidents, but I cannot recall one who incited his own people to riot to overturn a legal election in his favour and cost some of them - including at least one police officer - their lives.  Except Donald Trump.

Trump appears to have not one shred of common decency left, his presidency has been riddled with lies - some so obvious they were hardly worth telling - absurdity, mysogyny, homophobia, and racism. That is merely the start.  This is a man whose electoral speeches alone showed demonstrably that he was utterly and disastrously unfit to be president of the local golf club, let alone the United States of America, and yet elected he was.  The reason for that was thought to lay elsewhere, but the American People - perhaps realising their choice was severely limited - seemed grudgingly to opt for Trump, who then embarked on a campaign of ludicrous speeches, fumbled attempts at statesmanship, and mass-sackings of people he had only too recently praised for their talents.

But what is even more tragic - what is truly America's shame - is America's acceptance of Trump's behaviour.  They were embarrassed, certainly, but their reaction to all his blatant dishonesty, all his ridiculous machinations, was that of a doting parent with a wayward, spoiled, and unmanageable child.  "That Donald, he is scamp, no?"  He certainly is, and he's the kind of scamp who failed - in the wake of many mass-shootings - to protect the American public, because, to put it simply, alienating the NRA would cost him votes, and if ever a man was going to need votes, that man was Donald J Trump.

It is a wonder to many that Trump has physically survived his term of office in one piece.  Abe Lincoln didn't. In total, four presidents have died by assassination, two more have been wounded, and a further fourteen have been targetted.  Without exception, none of them had caused anywhere near the mayhem that Trump has caused in four short years.  You just can't find a decent maniac these days, except, of course, the one in the White House.  I can remember, at the start of Trump's presidency, someone saying "He'll be taken out - they'll have to take him out, you can't possibly let that idiot loose in the White House!"  Well, a couple of people have tried, but where's the CIA when you need them?

Trump's last hurrah (at least we hope it's his last) has resulted in five deaths so far.  We hope there are no more to come. A last sickening tantrum from a man who should be nominated as the World's Worst Loser.  Dishonest and inhumane, arrogant and conceited, the whole world should give thanks that he is going, and it is still difficult to believe - especially here in Britain where we do not do things Mr Trump's way, although Boris did try! - that any American can justify support for Donald Trump.

I doubt whether there will be much from the family of Officer Brian Sicknick, who died protecting the peace - a peace deliberately shattered by the so-called president of his country.

The Man in Black

There are many great singers in the world, and there are many great guitarists, but the man I'm talking about was neither of those in the technical sense.  And yet - and yet - he was, at the same time, probably the greatest of all.  Unmistakable, utterly unique, and possessing an aura not available to others, he was, of course, the legendary 'Man in Black' - Johnny Cash.

Cash's childhood was not always a happy one, and the scars showed.  Drink, drugs, and cigarettes took their toll, but at the same time made him more human - nearer, perhaps to how we felt sometimes, because John did understand us.  He said - at Folsom Prison - "I think I know how you feel about some things, ain't none of my business how you feel about some other things, an' I don't give a damn how you feel about some other things!"

Johnny Cash was a big man, and with his rugged looks and black eyes, he had the one thing that many of the rather more 'plastic' stars never had -  enormous presence.  His voice, deep and booming, complimented that presence.  It was commanding and unique.  There have been many country singers before and since, and many of them have or had deep voices, but none of them - not one single one - ever sounded like Johnny Cash.  Like other greats, no-one ever had to turn on the radio and ask "Who's that singing?" when a Cash song was playing - you knew it was Johnny Cash.  The same thing could be said of Roy Orbison and Neil Diamond.

He was not always a man who could be bothered with political correctness, and he often clashed with record and media companies because he refused to be anyone other than Johnny Cash.  He was - always - true to himself and his beliefs.  When asked to perform Kristofferson's 'Sunday Morning Coming Down' on 'The Johnny Cash Show', he was asked to change "Wishin' Lord, I was stoned" to "Wishin' Lord, I was home", because the original referred to drug/drink use.  Cash said that the song was about drugs and drink use, and it was his latest hit, which he meant to perform just as the writer had intended.  They were insistent; the words must not refer to drug use, and the word "home" would be substituted.  Cash refused.  That incident, and his unabashed Christianity, caused ABC what they referred to as 'network anxieties'.

That night, the anchorman said those oft-repeated words, "Ladies and Gentleman - Johnny Cash!", and there stood the impressive figure, dressed in black, complete with guitar, scars, and that booming voice.  "On a Sunday-morning sidewalk" he sang, "I'm wishin' Lord, I was STONED!"  Of course, it could be claimed that Cash had sung the original version so many times that the word just slipped out.  Couldn't it?

He was also passionate about the ill-treatment of native Americans, and the US Govenment were not always pleased with his criticism.  It was, however, honest and to the point, like the man himself.  He spoke out about many things, and often used his songs as a vehicle for his opinions.  He was more than just a musical protester -  much, much, more.  At a time when the Government seemed to be ignoring the public - particularly regarding the disastrous war in Vietnam - Johnny Cash was a kind of Messiah - the voice of the ordinary American who otherwise seemed unheard and unheeded, abandoned by those he put in power, and who should have known better.  Again, ABC suffered 'anxieties' when Cash insisted on folk-singer Pete Seeger appearing in his show, because Seeger was known for his anti-war protests.

When Johnny Cash died, he left behind a body of work which encompassed music of many genres, including his last, widely-acclaimed albums, and that darkest of all singles, 'Hurt'.  This song got millions of hits on YouTube, many of which were from teenagers, proving what most of us already knew - that there were few that the Man in Black could not reach.  A devout Christian to the end, he was by no means perfect, but he aspired.

A documentary of his life followed, the title of which paid the greatest of all tributes to the legend he was.

It was called, very simply, 'The Last Great American'.

A Most Unwelcome Guest

To visit or not to visit?  That is the question.  Never mind the 'nobler in the mind' bit, because this is Donald J. Trump we're talking about, and there is nothing - but nothing - noble about him.  Trump's state visit to the UK has been on and off more times than Mae West's underwear, and a question mark hangs over the whole ghastly event.

When Theresa May - whose own reign may very well be in question - rather prematurely invited Trump over here mere days after his inauguration, there was an unsurprising sharp intake of breath from many politicians and most of the British public.  The Scots, bless them, were particularly outspoken in their views on the man, and one memorable picture shows a Scots woman holding a banner proclaiming "Trump is a c**t".  It is not in the nature of the Scots to hold back or not say exactly what they mean.

The government stance is that the President of the United States of America is one of a select group  of 'World Leaders', and as such it is both statesman-like and expedient to extend this courtesy in order to further cement relations between tiny, vulnerable, Great Britain, and the powerful giant that is America.  All well and good, and absolutely right -up until now.

In the past, we have delighted in state visits, although the Chinese President  Xi's visit was marred by some friction between Chinese officials and the British Ambassador.  Her Majesty, generally a watch-word for diplomacy, described them as "very rude".  However, that apart,  these visits have failed to provoke large-scale protests, and this is very largely because the visitors themselves have had sufficient diplomatic training,  common courtesy, and statesmanship to behave themselves and not act like prats.

Some, like Trump's predecessor, Barak Obama, were welcomed with a great deal of warmth.  Obama isn't perfect, of course, but he is a very intelligent, sensitive, and decent man, with considerable legal, legislative and governmental experience, whereas Trump is a wheeler-dealer 'businessman' whose businesses have gone bankrupt six times while he - by his own admission - "played with the bankruptcy laws".

The British are a stoical lot, but there are limits.  Among the things most people wish to avoid is guilt by association.  In other words, we are quite willing to accept someone whose views we may not agree with, but can understand the reasons for those views while at the same time hoping we may change them by discussion. 

We  will not, however, be seen to welcome a misogynistic racist, who happens also to be a warmonger and pollutionist who pulled the plug on climate change.  We do not want him here at all, but have to resign ourselves to the fact that he is - tragically - President of America, and will probably turn up at some stage.  It is, I think, the thought of this ghastly individual being afforded all the grace and dignity of a state visit which he has done nothing whatever to deserve.  His visit will also serve as a slap in the face for almost three million UK Muslims, the vast majority of whom are decent peaceful people.  A state visit is more than just inappropriate for this man - it is unacceptable.

One thing, I believe is certain - if and when he does come, neither he nor Theresa May will be left in any doubt of how loathed and detested he is, and what a bad idea inviting him was.

Still, the EDF will probably be pleased.

What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

I have to say that 2016 ended on a somewhat depressing note, but that note was trumped (if you'll pardon the ghastly pun ) by the start of 2017.  Let's start, however with late 2016, a time when some people in America decided that they'd had more than enough of sanity, and elected an idiot to the post of the most powerful man in the western world.  I know I once said he was no idiot, but - in typical Trump fashion - he's proved me wrong.  Well done, that man.

Wasting not a second, he went about living up to his image of the most unpopular U.S. President of all time by pissing just about everyone off.  The American Judiciary sharply reminded him that he was not above the law by declaring his ridiculous travel ban unlawful, and I daresay that Trump sacking his Attorney-General because she could not let him break the law probably did not help his cause, or endear him to the judges.  There were mass protests, and they continue to this day.

There was also the small matter of alleged Russian involvement in the Presidential Election, and some easily-discovered porky-pies told by members of the Trump cabinet.  There was more to come;  Some of it came in the shape of Mrs Kellyanne Conway, Counselor to the President, and the woman who coined the somewhat euphemistic phrase "Alternative Facts" in order to make some of her more outrageous statements a little more palatable.  Conway it was who defended Trump's immigration policy by citing the now-infamous 'Bowling Green Massacre', allegedly perpetrated by two Iraqi terrorists in Bowling Green, Kentucky.  This incident did not, in fact, ever take place, the two Iraqis who were arrested in Bowling Green had been involved in acts of terrorism whilst in Iraq, but no evidence was ever presented to suggest that they were planning attacks in the U.S.  The other anomaly, of course, is that in order to have a massacre people have to get killed;  it is an absolutely essential part of the plan, and no-one did.  Strike one.

In February of this year, Conway discussed Ivanka Trump's products, giving what appeared to be a "free advertisment" for them.  This was too much, even for the Republicans.  It was a clear breach of ethics that drew widespread condemnation. Strike two.   Many Americans also find it somewhat strange that a woman who co-authored a book with the rather cumbersome title of 'What Women Really Want: How American Women Are Quietly Erasing Political, Class, and Religious Lines to Change the Way We Live' should choose to defend - at every turn, and using 'alternative facts if necessary - a man who is so blatantly both sexist and racist.  Small wonder that many TV companies have dropped her from their interview list because of her questionable credibility. Strike three.

Then there was the unfortunate National Security Advisor Michael Flynn (who Conway had said "had the full confidence of the President") who promptly 'resigned' hours after that statement.  It is strongly suspected by those who should know that Flynn was actually sacked by Trump, the man who, it was claimed, had such confidence in him!

Meanwhile Trump continues down the Road to Hell, showing little sign of applying the brakes or steering in the right direction.  His much-vaunted White House 'Team' - Trump claimed he picked only the best - continues to fall apart at the seams, despite Trump's claim that everything is running "real smooth".  I'd hate to see it running "real rough" then.

So there it is, folks; we have the most powerful government in the western world in disarray, a team of politicians who - to quote from 'Good Morning Vietnam' don't appear to know if they've been "shot, fucked, powder-burned, or snake-bit",  Putin rubbing his hands, the rest of the world shaking it's head in despair, and a headstrong, ignorant, fool, with the nuclear codes.

What could possibly go wrong?

He Did No Harm

(Or, at least, not much!)

Of my three greatest heroes, I have written of two; Fred Dibnah (the subject of my very first post), and 'The Last Great American', Mr. Johnny Cash.  The title of this post is a phrase used by Hero 3, and he wanted it to be his epitaph; I don't know whether he got his wish, or whether Death was as kind as he had portrayed him, but I hope so - on both counts.

The mention of Death, complete with capital letter, may possibly have given a clue to those who know me, because Death became a character with some very human traits, which is not surprising, since he's been around humans from, well, the start, really.  In short, Death became what this hero described as "an anthropomorphic personification", and the man to whom I am referring is the late and very great Sir Terry Pratchett.

When he first started writing, the incredibly snobbish so-called 'Literary Circle' pooh-poohed his material, laughingly dismissing it as "something no woman would ever read", and sneeringly deriding him as "a complete amateur - doesn't even write in chapters".  An art critic, the late Brian Sewell, simply did what he did best; he sneered and drawled "who's Terry Pratchett?"  It seems curious now that I cannot remember the names of those TV critics (although I will never forget Terry's), and Sewell died without ever receiving a knighthood, and is usually remembered for all the wrong reasons.

Fortunately for us, Terry Pratchett's rage at the establishment and his headmaster was channelled into an imaginative energy that produced some of the most popular books ever written.  Possessed of an incredible imagination, an uncanny knowledge of human nature, and a whacky and witty sense of humour,  Terry's cocktail of darkness, wisdom, and hilarity spawned a whole industry and a huge fan base.  It was all richly-deserved.

A self-effacing, gentle and kindly man who always had time for the fans he knew had put him where he was,  he was never rude, arrogant or disdainful.  He never rubbished other authors, although some were not so kind to him - possibly because he out-sold most of them many times over.  He was not a man with a huge ego, and possessed, in spades,  that most endearing human trait of all; the ability not to take himself too seriously.  This was apparent in the slogan on one of his t-shirts, which said, simply "Tolkien's dead,  J K Rowling said no, Philip Pullman couldn't make it, Hi, I'm Terry Pratchett".  Typically of the man, the Terry Pratchett line was in the smallest font.

Terry's discworld characters must be among the most loved on the planet, and there cannot be a reader of his books who doesn't have his own very personal image of what these characters looked like.  He had a wonderful way of making the most ghastly and shifty examples of humanity fairly lovable - or at least understandably ghastly.

So thank you, Sir Terry, for being the writer and person you were, for making us see ourselves for what we are, and teaching us that a ridiculous view of the world is the only sane option.  

A flat disc supported by four elephants standing on the back of a giant space-turtle?  I don't see anything wrong with that.

As long as you stay away from the edges.

Isn't Science Wonderful?

Dear Scientists,
                         When I was relatively sane, I used to read - on a daily basis - the 'Health' page of the Guardian.  No more; it upsets me, and, I suspect, many others.  After years of dire warnings from you lot about everything from obesity, heart disease, cancer and strokes, you have come up with the astonishing conclusion that people who worry about their health - although quite well - stand a greater chance of suffering from heart disease than people who, shall we say, don't give a flying wossname.  A lot of quite - well people do, in fact, now worry about their health, particularly after reading a load of 'doom and gloom' articles from people like you, who should really consider getting  proper jobs.

This startling revelation - which was made shortly after the one about the link between cancer and playing marbles, but well before the fascinating study on the benefits of being involved in a road traffic collision - has prompted me to question certain aspects of what you do.  The first question must surely be how much it costs for a bunch of white-coated fuckwits to waste everyone's time coming up with crap like this.

The second question centres around why you do it.  As far as I can see, the announcement that bacon is linked to some kinds of cancer has had little or no effect on bacon sales (no-one, as far as I know, from Danepak or Walls has suicided following your announcement) which must surely mean that we're all still enjoying the stuff and have ignored you.  This has, perhaps understandably, upset a number of pigs, but that's life - or not, in their case of course.

It has been clear ever since we started thinking (around last Friday), that we have to die of something,  and the general theory has been that striking a balance between a suicidal tendency to poison ourselves and enjoyment of what, after all, is a realtively short existence, is making the best use of the life we have.  If we can get through life without harming others, that is a bonus.

It seems that while heeding your warnings may, in some cases, enable a lucky few to squeeze a few more miserable, cold, months out of life, you have failed to recognize that it's all about quality, and that cheating the Grim Reaper for a few more bowls of gruel or a nut cutlet isn't really the object of the exercise.  Actually, I think I recall you telling us that nuts are linked to certain types of cancer, so we'd better stick to the gruel - at least, until next week, when no doubt you will publish shocking new evidence linking  gruel to erectile dysfunction.

We have all had friends whose blameless, alcohol, nicotine, and cholesterol - free existences have been cut tragically short years before their time, as we also know others who have drank like fishes, smoked twenty fags a day since the age of twelve, and indulged daily in a full English with a roast for dinner, who have survived into their nineties.  Perhaps you could devote your energies to finding out what it is that protects the latter, because if you can find that, it may preclude the former.

Use your abilities to help with important issues like Alzheimer's, and a cure for cancer - although I suspect that both will always be with us, because nobody ever dies of nothing.  Parents who feed their children too much of the wrong food - and they do so knowingly - don't need scientists, they need flogging.  We all know the dangers of smoking, alcohol, and fatty foods, so leave us alone - or at least treat us like adults.  If we abide by your warnings, this already unhappy world will become even more unhappy.  Why, take away all our enjoyment, and we'll all be on drugs.

And they're bad for you, you know.

Isn't Science Wonderful?

Dear Scientists,
                         When I was relatively sane, I used to read - on a daily basis - the 'Health' page of the Guardian.  No more; it upsets me, and, I suspect, many others.  After years of dire warnings from you lot about everything from obesity, heart disease, cancer and strokes, you have come up with the astonishing conclusion that people who worry about their health - although quite well - stand a greater chance of suffering from heart disease than people who, shall we say, don't give a flying wossname.  A lot of quite - well people do, in fact, now worry about their health, particularly after reading a load of 'doom and gloom' articles from people like you, who should really consider getting  proper jobs.

This startling revelation - which was made shortly after the one about the link between cancer and playing marbles, but well before the fascinating study on the benefits of being involved in a road traffic collision - has prompted me to question certain aspects of what you do.  The first question must surely be how much it costs for a bunch of white-coated fuckwits to waste everyone's time coming up with crap like this.

The second question centres around why you do it.  As far as I can see, the announcement that bacon is linked to some kinds of cancer has had little or no effect on bacon sales (no-one, as far as I know, from Danepak or Walls has suicided following your announcement) which must surely mean that we're all still enjoying the stuff and have ignored you.  This has, perhaps understandably, upset a number of pigs, but that's life - or not, in their case of course.

It has been clear ever since we started thinking (around last Friday), that we have to die of something,  and the general theory has been that striking a balance between a suicidal tendency to poison ourselves and enjoyment of what, after all, is a realtively short existence, is making the best use of the life we have.  If we can get through life without harming others, that is a bonus.

It seems that while heeding your warnings may, in some cases, enable a lucky few to squeeze a few more miserable, cold, months out of life, you have failed to recognize that it's all about quality, and that cheating the Grim Reaper for a few more bowls of gruel or a nut cutlet isn't really the object of the exercise.  Actually, I think I recall you telling us that nuts are linked to certain types of cancer, so we'd better stick to the gruel - at least, until next week, when no doubt you will publish shocking new evidence linking  gruel to erectile dysfunction.

We have all had friends whose blameless, alcohol, nicotine, and cholesterol - free existences have been cut tragically short years before their time, as we also know others who have drank like fishes, smoked twenty fags a day since the age of twelve, and indulged daily in a full English with a roast for dinner, who have survived into their nineties.  Perhaps you could devote your energies to finding out what it is that protects the latter, because if you can find that, it may preclude the former.

Use your abilities to help with important issues like Alzheimer's, and a cure for cancer - although I suspect that both will always be with us, because nobody ever dies of nothing.  Parents who feed their children too much of the wrong food - and they do so knowingly - don't need scientists, they need flogging.  We all know the dangers of smoking, alcohol, and fatty foods, so leave us alone - or at least treat us like adults.  If we abide by your warnings, this already unhappy world will become even more unhappy.  Why, take away all our enjoyment, and we'll all be on drugs.

And they're bad for you, you know.