Hello and goodbye. Sounds like a Beatles’ song that was popular when I was in what was then called junior high school. That was back when kids used to walk to bus stops, and even walk to school if they lived close enough. Now the bus stops at every single house to drop the precious backpack-attired youngsters, so God help you if you get stuck behind a school bus. You might make it home in time for supper.

There are a few different reasons for my departure. Number one is that I have no idea if anything I write is even being read anymore. The format now buries the blogs, so it takes a few clicks to get there if you know what you’re doing. If you don’t, you might not get there at all. It’s like the old question: If a tree falls, and no one is around to hear it, does it make any noise? Also I am running out of topics. Even the major newspapers of record have pretty much already said everything that can be said about the national disgrace that is our present Trump administration. Another thing is that my former partner liberal in this sea of conservative morons has been banned from blogging here due to a disagreement on what is appropriate content for a family newspaper. Carlo helped give me enthusiasm to carry on the fight in this forum. It has become more of a chore than something I enjoy.

So no, I’m not giving up. And to those who will inevitably cheer my departure, let me just say that you haven’t won any victory over me. I will still be publishing blogs, but not here anymore.

I have noticed something since I got a subscription to the National Review, the flagship publication of mainstream conservatism. I have learned some things: for example, I never read in a liberal publication about Angela Merkel’s immigration policy, which is clearly a big reason why our president Trump has such disdain for her. I had no idea, but then again, I usually don’t look for articles that get too deep into the woods about policy matters. So there is an element of education about relevant matters. But what I am discovering is that, for the most part, the right wing is deeply invested in their gut feelings, whereas the left is more prone to intellectual arguments, usually. Not always.

The latest edition of National Review is dedicated to the matter of gun ownership in the United States. Obviously NR is on the side of the individual-owner interpretation of the Second Amendment. They have an article on the reality-show idiot and obnoxious personality who calls himself Jesse James, who now apparently is in the business of selling high-end firearms. Stuff like pistols fashioned from metal found in the Twin Towers bombing on 9/11. He moved to Texas, evidently because he was priced out of California. They say that the gun laws in Cali are particularly onerous, and from their point of view, Texas is far superior.

One story they include is an endorsement of hunting as a sport and as a boon to wildlife conservation efforts. That makes some sense anyway. The NR says that taxes on guns, ammo, and archery equipment goes to the states, with a 1% administrative tax going to the federal Fish and Wildlife Service. The idea is that the hunters pay toward the preservation of the conditions that allow them to continue their hunting, as well as providing a check on the population of game, especially deer. Which keeps the herd from overgrazing and running out of food, as well as having so many of them stray into the roadways, causing death to the deer and distress and danger for the drivers. But then they go on a sentimental journey into the family traditions of gun ownership and passing guns down the generations as heirlooms. A lot of warm and fuzzy feelings there, I guess, for some people.

And then we have the left. Back when Trayvon Martin was shot in Florida, and Obama was president at the time, the MSNBC news channel lineup was all liberal, all the time. The hosts of all of those shows took it as a given that Trayvon was murdered. The same thing happened when Michael Brown was shot in Ferguson, MO. It was assumed that Mr. Brown was murdered by an overzealous, racist cop. The evidence that George Zimmerman, Trayvon’s killer, was acting in fear for his life, was given no attention or mention, let alone any credibility, by the MSNBC hosts, nor by the liberal media in general. Similarly, in the Michael Brown shooting case, the cop who shot and killed Brown, Darren Wilson, was exonerated by Eric Holder’s Department of Justice, in a lengthy report.

What happens, I would say more frequently on the right, is that people have their own narrative, their ingrained version of events that support their core beliefs, and they will not sacrifice them for anything. Any facts, such as Trump’s habit of lying, or the Republican party’s callous indifference to the struggling middle class and poor, are dismissed as biased and inaccurate. The Republicans and their President Trump have done a tremendous job of convincing some people that they are the party of patriotism and American well-being. What I hear a lot from conservatives is that nobody should be given anything. They should have to work for whatever they get. And Republican administrations have been good at demonizing people of color and, more recently, immigrants, now even legal immigrants, are getting negative attention from Trump and his untergebener Stephen Miller. And conservatives discount all the corporate welfare that goes on in the form of tax cuts and write-offs, as well as legacy admissions into Ivy League schools. As well as decades of children of color being stuck in terrible schools with no expectation of ever going to college, let alone any exclusive college. They just buy the line that those “other” people are getting handouts that they don’t deserve. Republican politicians have successfully used that line to scam millions of Caucasian voters into voting directly against their own interests. Look at the Republican wave that happened in the mid-term elections in 2010. People, mainly white Tea Partiers, were up in arms that an uppity black president and his administration wanted to force them to buy decent health insurance. They were conned into thinking it was a ripoff. So they voted in a bunch of parasites determined to take away health insurance from millions of Americans. It’s funny though, that six years later, when they were threatened with the loss of their insurance, they did the same Town Hall screaming routine, only this time in favor of Obamacare. They had learned in the meantime that it actually was meant to help them. Even so, the Republicans came within one vote of terminating Obamacare. And even though they have tried to destroy it by a thousand cuts, it still stands. Funny thing, that reality stuff.

Emotion in the voting booth is fine. Emotion in the political arena is wonderful. But emotion without any intellectual process behind it is just a dumb, destructive beast. Intellect must dominate emotion for a democracy to work.

We have another one. Another what, you say. Well, of course, another casualty of the me2 movement. I have opined on it before, and there are good and bad things about it. The best thing is that people are finally giving some thought to the issue of bad behavior by powerful men. Mainly sexual behavior against women, although Kevin Spacey has been accused of sexual misbehavior toward males. Rep. Keith Ellison, D-MO, has been accused by

The Keith Ellison she said-he said: She goes on TV, he denies abuse allegations, goes door-knocking

a former girlfriend of physical and verbal abuse. There has been deafening silence from most on the left. They are still smarting from the removal of Sen. Al Franken from the same state for sexual misbehavior that did not, however, involve violent assault.

Rep. Keith Ellison is a steward of the progressive, Bernie Sanders wing of the Democratic party. He is also a Muslim. The Islamic religion is not famous for its fair and equal treatment of women. Even so, I don’t think that should be a factor in deciding Ellison’s fate. There are many, many Muslim men who don’t drag their women by the ankle shouting obscenities, as Ellison is accused of doing. When deciding on the veracity of such an accusation, one must look at the demeanor and credibility of the accuser. The woman is apparently a good, responsible person with nothing to gain by putting herself in the spotlight. I have read some articles that say, well, she wasn’t injured. That infuriates me. A person doesn’t have to be either dead or seriously injured to be a victim of domestic assault.

There are different standards in a court of law. In these types of situations, I like to compare them to a civil court. A criminal court requires proof beyond a reasonable doubt. That’s why you have sly defense attorneys trying to poke holes in law enforcement procedures (see the acquittal of O.J. Simpson). But civil court is governed by a preponderance of the evidence. If it is more likely true than untrue, the case is decided in favor of the more likely scenario. Likewise for the reverse. I have every reason to believe Ellison’s former girlfriend, and zero reason to believe Ellison’s self-serving arguments to stay in his powerful job.

Keith Ellison is a lawyer. Maybe after he resigns from the House, he can do some pro bono work for women’s rights groups. That would be a good start on his way to a better life, and to being a better Muslim.

Hi there, fellow humans. I have had a case of writer’s block for the past few weeks. I had a hard time thinking of something new to write. I’m sure I’m not the only blogger who has run into the problem, especially if you specialize in contemporary politics. There are only so many ways to say that you despise our current president #45, as well as his congressional supporters who refuse to do their jobs as a check on the executive. It is beyond belief. The right-wing “freedom caucus” composed of nuts, conspiracy theorists and alleged rape-enablers, this group of gentlemen would have opened up an investigation on a President Clinton (either one) if they spit on a sidewalk. But they ignore the blatant criminality and possible traitorous behavior of #45. The disgust and anger I have towards this bunch of evil clowns is palpable and unhelpful to my general well-being. So I thought I would go in a different direction today.

My favorite hobby that involves actually going outside and doing something is motorcycle riding. I started my two-wheel career as a grade-schooler. I owned a minibike, which were quite popular with kids at the time. They ran on lawnmower-type engines, and had a maximum speed of perhaps 20 mph. I used to ride with my sociopathic former neighbor, whose family occupied the last house on our dead-end road. He was a bully, not a big boy, but an athlete and a very good baseball pitcher, who would throw objects at his playmates. A fun guy. If I knew then what I know now, I would have stayed the hell away from him. But when you are a kid, you, or at least I, thought that everybody was smarter than me, and that if I was allowed to play with Billy, he must be okay. We raced our bikes up and down our dirt street, and around his property, which included a large field. I am surprised that he didn’t try to run into me like he did when we rode bicycles, but I guess he knew that it would damage his vehicle as much as mine.

Eventually I sold my minibike. I honestly don’t remember why, but I do remember selling it. I was so nervous when the buyer, a kid and his dad, came over, but they were so nice, and they bought it for $150, which was pretty good money then. A few years later, I bought a Suzuki from a local classmate, whose father had a garage in the Jefferson section of town. The bike they sold me, I forget the price, had a gas leak in the carburetor at the choke button, and had exhaust pipes half-falling off. I made do with that for about a year. Then I bought a Harley-Davidson 350 Sprint. I forgot what the model year was, but I bought it in 1974. It was manufactured during a dark chapter of H-D history, when the company was owned by AMF Industries, the company that operates ten-pin bowling recreation centers. That bike was the first bike that I had that I registered for street use. I was crazy. I had my motorcycle license before I had my car license, so I used to ride it year round. I remember riding it in downtown Worcester, near the old Lincoln Square rotary, when there was snow and ice on the ground. I never got in a bad accident; I guess I was lucky. I do remember once, pulling into a package store parking lot to buy some beer, when I didn’t make the turn into the driveway and hit a large wooden curb, did a somersault, and landed on my butt in a pile of wood chips. No harm done to me or the bike. I eventually sold the bike to the shift foreman I worked for at the old Worcester Moulded Plastics (yes, that’s how they spelled the name). And that last accident foreshadowed a period in my life when it was just as well that I didn’t ride a motorcycle. But I always kept the “M” endorsement on my license, for a modest fee at renewal time.

Fast forward to 2004. I had been a safe driver for a while, but I had just felt that getting a motorcycle was a bridge too far. Insurance, registration, excise taxes, maintenance costs, all that stuff kept me from resuming my motorcycle career for a long time. But in the early ’00s, I had an elderly relative who died, leaving a substantial estate. I didn’t get rich, but I got to the point where I felt able to take on the additional expense of a hobby that costs money. I am on my fourth Harley. I bought them all new, at the same place in Auburn, and traded up each time to something better. The only regret I have is trading in my 1200cc Sportster. That was a good bike for speed and sharp turns. The Harley I have now, a Wide Glide, is a beautiful machine, but it isn’t built for the same kind of riding that the Sportster was and is. At some point I can imagine myself possibly buying a less-expensive smaller bike for just that kind of hair-raising riding.

But you knew that, at some point, I would get back to politics. And so I am. My preferred brand, Harley-Davidson, has had its image soiled by various right-wing figures who have sought to trade on the Harley name to enhance their image. Part of it is Harley’s fault. Back in the early 1960s, Harley was the preferred brand of motorcycle one percenter clubs, and that outlaw image, the rebel vibe, sold a lot of Harleys. But the H-D marketers were kind of sly, and gave the outlaw clubs the shaft. They have rebranded Harley as a family-friendly bike, made in America, but with just enough outlaw cred stolen from the people they threw under the bus, like Sonny Barger, the famous Hells Angels former chapter president and oldest known living member. Instead of emphasizing the outlaw image, Harley highlights its American roots. Sonny, for his part, says he would rather have ridden a BMW or a Honda than a Harley. That’s cool. Last I knew, Barger rode a Polaris Victory bike, another American-made machine, but Polaris has since discontinued its Victory line in order to concentrate on their flagship Indian brand, which they rescued from obscurity after being dropped twice before.

So I don’t care all that much for Harley’s current image, which is somewhere between being a family-friendly bike for the rich who like to play outlaw in 70 degree weather on Sundays. But Harley was my first street-legal bike, and I like the fact that they are primarily made in America, and I am loyal to my favorite brands.

So screw what anybody thinks. If people want to think I’m: a) a right-wing gladiator; b) a pretend outlaw on weekends; or c) a brainless clown, let them. I like freedom as a concept and as a reality. And by freedom, I don’t mean right-wing freedom like the “cover-up caucus” in the Republican House claims for itself, nor the kind of freedom Ronald Reagan propagated, meaning the freedom of the wealthy to hoard their money and not help those less fortunate, nor the freedom the current administration favors which allows companies the freedom to pollute our air and water, nor the freedom the current administration wants to give the banks, to take advantage of the little guy without restraint or consequence. That junk isn’t freedom. That is Darwinism, survival of the fittest, “let the richest, whitest, most cutthroat, lawless man win”. That isn’t freedom. The freedom I get riding my Harley can’t be duplicated, nor can it be politicized. It is my freedom to ride the wind, to let my tension wind down like a coiled spring unwinding, and to make my bad day good, or my good day better. No harm, no foul, only peace and freedom.

I grew up thinking of America as the best country in the world. That was considered, by me and everybody else I knew, to be an indisputable fact. We were the “land of the free, and the home of the brave”. I grew up in the period starting about a decade after the end of WWII, a time when we were flush with the money from a war economy, employee labor unions were strong, the middle class life was accessible to anybody with a high school education who stayed out of trouble and was willing to effin’ work, as one of my shop foremen so delicately put it (without the defanging euphemism). I still think I was correct, but over the past 40 or so years, things have changed in our country, and not for the better.

Starting in 1980, with the election of Ronald Reagan, a different kind of America started to emerge, an America where money is king and capitalism is to be celebrated and not restricted, and scant attention need be paid to those who, for whatever reason, can’t raise enough money to elevate themselves out of poverty. Reagan declared there to be a “morning in America” where government is not the solution to problems, it is the problem. So guess what government does well, better than the private sector? For one thing, government can handle health insurance (single payer). For another thing, it can handle food and cash disbursements to the poor, elderly, and sick. So the focus started to turn away from helping those in need, and toward helping those who are not in need, under the guise that the upper class could create jobs and lift up the lower and middle classes. It has never worked out that way, but that hasn’t stopped House Speaker Paul Ryan and his ilk from continuing to promote it.

Twice in the last 20 years, Republican presidents have been elected without having the majority of the vote. This has been made possible largely because of the Electoral College system, which empowers rural and midwestern states at the expense of populous states and cities, and subverts democracy. W got appointed president by the Supreme Court. Trump got appointed president by the Electoral College. I don’t know if we ever needed the Electoral College, but as it stands now, it is an antidemocratic institution. If you live in California or Massachusetts, you might as well not bother to vote because it won’t move the needle toward your candidate. Hillary won by millions, but lost the election to a traitorous demagogue. Regardless, what’s a few million votes between friends anyway, right?

And as if that wasn’t enough, we have the antidemocratic Citizens United decision, which allows unlimited dark money to influence our presidential elections. Hey, money talks, stuff walks, right? That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.

So now we are at the mercy of a traitorous, mendacious Republican president, and a Republican congress that has ensured its survival by gerrymandering voting districts and voter suppression by voter roll purges and ridiculous, unnecessary voter ID laws. As well as closing down voting sites in poorer minority areas (read Democratic) and making it more difficult for people to get the required ID to vote by closing down DMV offices and the like.

I didn’t bother putting in any links to other material this time. These are well-known facts. If you believe them, you don’t need the links, and if you don’t believe them you won’t read them anyway, and most likely you don’t even care. Just like you don’t care that we have an ignorant, dangerous traitor as our president, and you don’t care that he got elected by the Russian government, which incidentally is going to do the same thing in the midterms in a few months, as well as the 2020 election.

The party of law and order and patriotism has ceased to exist. In its place is a cult of personality that reveres Donald Trump, and excuses or justifies everything he does.

God save the democracy of the United States of America

Three names. Two are individuals, one is a group. Not all of Trump’s fans hate John McCain. But I think it’s a safe bet that most of them don’t think much of Senator McCain. If they did, they would not be supporting the obscenity named Donald John Trump. The third name in my title, Joe Scarborough, is a former state representative from Florida, and also a former Republican. He didn’t give up his conservative values, just the party that no longer represents them. Although I am not conservative, I have great respect for Joe Scarborough, as well as conservative Republican Senator John McCain. I disagree with conservatives on policy matters, but I still respect them if they have integrity. Both of these American patriots have integrity. Now, as for you Trump lackeys, chew on this:

You were wondering when I would make my way back to this issue, weren’t you? It is the hottest of hot-button issues, where you can make an enemy of somebody in a single post or expression of feelings that doesn’t set well with the reader. I have blogged on this topic before, but I checked and it’s been over a year, so maybe it’s time to revisit it.

Donald Trump became president on the backs of black and brown people, with his demagoguery of everything to do with black and brown immigrants. And he hasn’t been particularly kind to the black people who were born here, either. Witness his attacks on professional football players who kneel during the national anthem, most of them being black, showing their feelings regarding the shootings of young black men by police officers. Yeah, he has some black supporters. Kanye West, whom I detest, is one. Boxing promoter Don King, a convicted killer, is another. Not the least of them is that dude who has been showing up at Trump rallies, sitting behind the podium in view of the cameras, holding up a sign saying “Blacks for Trump”. He looks kind of lonesome, making me wonder where the other one is. Maybe it’s his mother, who knows? Eccentrics, all three of them, and I am sure there are more. One thing that any black person would have to have to support Trump would be an ability to ignore racial broadsides delivered through a megaphone by Trump. Really strange, if you ask me.

Now that is the public face of racism. Stuff that makes the news. But there is a lot that goes on behind the scenes, which is often not as much of a black-and-white situation, so to speak. There are shades of gray.

I lived in an apartment on Grafton Hill for about fifteen years, moving away in 2009. The rent was reasonable, the place was perfect for me, not tiny, but not too big either. I got along well with the property manager, and I always paid my rent on time. But I had a persistent problem with my downstairs neighbors. The first one who caused me major headaches moved in about a year after I moved in. I’ll call him Johnny. Johnny, an African-American man in his early thirties, lived there with his Hispanic girlfriend. Johnny had a very loud stereo, which he believed he had the right to blast as loud as he wanted to until 10:00 p.m. That’s what a lot of people think, but it is incorrect. Disturbing somebody’s quiet enjoyment of their premises is always actionable, no matter what time it is. Johnny had no interest in getting along with me. He knew I didn’t like him playing his music so loud that it vibrated my floor, with the drumbeat of the rap music causing my furniture to rattle. He didn’t care. And he was a good con artist, being unfailingly polite to the property manager, so if there was any problem, he might be given the benefit of the doubt. I called the landlord, and I wrote him a letter as well. He didn’t do anything. As long as the apartment was occupied and the rent was getting paid, he was cool with it. As well as keeping himself on the right side of the Fair Housing Act, which prohibits discrimination in housing. Johnny eventually got his brother in there too, in another apartment, on the same floor as mine, kind of on the other side of the corner of the adjoining building. This guy was even nicer than Johnny. I’ll call him Ronny. The two of them were angelic towards the apartment house management, but they loved their rap and if we didn’t like it too bad. What happened eventually was that the manager got complaints from other tenants, as well as some leaving their apartments due to the loud music, so he evicted Johnny. Ronny left shortly afterward, and I was glad. My five-year nightmare was over.

But my happiness was short-lived. The next tenants of that downstairs apartment were a thirtysomething African-American man and his teenage son. They were okay at first. The father worked, and the son worked too, at first. But the son, who I’ll call Denny, lost his job. His dad worked long hours and essentially left Denny alone much of the time. I don’t know if Denny was in a gang or not, but he had a bunch of wild friends. They would smoke pot in public areas of the apartment building. They would play their rap music all night long. I called the police, and they turned down the music as soon as they saw the headlights of the cruiser pulling into the parking lot. They were so damn polite to the cops. Yes sir this, no sir that, you have yourself a wonderful night now. What happened was four police officers came up to my apartment, knocked on my door, and basically told me to calm down. It was four of them and one of me, so I said yes sir as well. No point in fighting an unwinnable battle. What eventually ended up happening was that one night, the kids got really out of control. They had an all-night party, not only loud music but screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs. I had the police come over at 5 a.m. Two cruisers pulled into the lot. There was a young woman sitting on the front steps vomiting. One of the officers spoke with her, while the other one went inside to talk with Denny and his friends. See, they couldn’t get out of it this time, because when I called the police, the dispatcher stayed on the line, and she could hear the yelling and music coming through the floor on the phone. So the landlord found out, and he told the man and the boy, one more problem and you’re gone. So, about a week later, the hallway was filled with smoke. I looked in the front window of the downstairs apartment, and I saw Denny sitting on the couch passed out, and a frying pan smoking on the stove. So I called the police again, and they were evicted. I felt sorry for the father. He was trying to do the right thing, but he was overwhelmed. I saw him in the hallway days later. He knew that I had gotten him thrown out, but he didn’t say a word. I didn’t see Denny again until much later. He made some indirect threats against me, saying that he knew where I lived and worked. But nothing ever happened. I saw his name in the court actions some time later. He was charged with assault and battery with a dangerous weapon (knife). He was found not guilty of that, and that is the last I ever heard of either one of them.

This is where the rubber meets the road, and this is where a lot of people take the wrong road. They think that there is something inherently wrong with people of color, something in their makeup that can’t be changed. I don’t agree. I think that we are all human, we all bleed red, and we will act similarly under similar circumstances. Years of discrimination have created a ghetto class. It is a self-perpetuating situation. If you look down on somebody long enough, eventually they are going to act the way you expect them to. Which reinforces the perception the looker had in the first place. And round and round it goes.

Now, with the opioid crisis in rural white America, we are seeing some of the same pathologies that were previously mostly confined to the inner cities. Humans are human. It doesn’t matter if you are red, green, purple, orange, or black or white. We are the same inside, and we are changed by our circumstances in similar ways.

What I have done with this blog is show how it is possible to become prejudiced against some class or group. It happens when you think that the actions of a few represent all of them. I don’t think that. I never have thought that. But this is how it happens, and the cycle of resentment perpetuates itself. It is like a self-charging electrical vehicle that needs no fuel. It is charged by its forward motion. In order to break the cycle, somebody has to change their way of thinking and step forward. I like to think that I have done that, in a small way, with this blog.