Category Archives: Resist

Hot Air: The (Anti)Social Network



This from clinical psychologist Melissa G. Hunt who did this study at the University of Pennsylvania. Then again, did we really need formal academic research to tell us this?

Last Of The Breed?

I continually ask myself, regarding the godawfully depressing 2016 election, is this a bump in the road or is it the road?

The 2018 midterm election indicated a lot of people who voted for our current president decided, hey, mebbe the Dems ain’t so bad in comparison to the incurious, happily uninformed, impulsive, likely psychologically damaged archvillain who occupies the Oval Office these days.

Thing is, the Democratic Party still does not have a coherent, punchy, straightforward message that easily trips off the lips of its candidates and, it would be hoped, the electorate. Say what you will about Li’l Duce, “Make America Great Again” is pure gold as a tagline. It’s almost as good as Ronald Reagan’s “Morning in America.”

Can you think of any line or slogan the Dems have employed within the last 50 years that comes within a hundred miles of either of those two utterances? I can’t. In fact, you have to go back some 86 years to then-candidate Franklin Roosevelt’s acceptance speech at the 1932 Democratic National Convention before you find as sharp, as compelling a political line from a donkey party standard bearer. On July 2, 1932, in Chicago, Roosevelt accepted his party’s nomination and promised the American public a “new deal.” This was a New Deal nation at least through the next half century, until Reagan came along with his sledgehammer.

Now ask yourself what today’s Democratic Party stands for. It sure isn’t the New Deal. The party, in fact, is facing a crossroads. Does it continue to mumble, stumble, and mealymouth its way through elections, trying to sweet talk voters, saying Aw, we’re not that bad, honest? Or does the Democratic Party become bold and say our capitalist system has turned largely rotten these days, serving only the haves while the have nots hold on by their very fingernails?

In truth, that’s what candidate Trump told America in 2015 and ’16. Yeah, he’s a billionaire and yeah, he’s four-square for laws and regulations that keep wealth at the very top and if you’re not living at the apex of the pyramid, well, tough shit for you. But his essential message was You’re getting fucked by the big guys and only I can save you.

Have I mentioned Americans love to be lied to? Love it.

Anyway, the Democrats are policy wonks. They read all the reports, study all the research papers, pore over books by economists, sociologists, and other decorated academicians and then speak to the public in jargon. They see all the problems and have all the answers. Just listen to us, they say. And, next thing they know, another Republican has been elected to Congress or the statehouse or the school board.

Bloomington’s mayor, John Hamilton, is perhaps the apotheosis of this smarter-than-thou Democratic politician. Time and again he’s rolled out one idea or another — annexation, say, or his extortion scheme to benefit “affordable housing” — without feeling out the populace. For my good money, a politician’s chief asset should be her or his ear. That is, the good ones know how to listen. Hamilton, by and large, is not just tone-deaf, he’s profoundly hearing impaired.

Yep, Hamilton’s read all the research papers. He’s studied all the learned tomes. He’s conferred with all the experts. He doesn’t have to listen to his constituents because he has all the answers. He knows how to fix all the problems and don’t disagree with him because he knows best and you don’t.

And some people wonder why Democrats, too often, turn off large swathes of the electorate.

I wonder if the Democratic Party is becoming smart enough to realize guys like Hamilton are dinosaurs and the Trump victory in ’16 was the asteroid that smashed into the Yucatan Peninsula some 65 million years ago?

First One’s Free, Kid

So, some seditious scientists are working night and day to develop ways you can — emmis!make your own medicines.

Imagine that!

If you think pharmaceutical drugs cost too much money — and who doesn’t — you might get a kick out of this. Researchers are working on ways that you and I can make our own, say, epinephrine pens or the HIV drug Daraprim.

Now these off-the-grid chemists are actually making quite a few of these drugs and are handing them out at conferences and conventions. They’re even handing out the recipes for the meds.

The traditional pharmaceutical companies, natch, will be screaming bloody murder about all this for a couple of reasons, one good and one not so. On the good side, the Big Pharma guys’ll be hollering, Hey, you people in the general public aren’t licensed, experienced pharmacologists working in inspected labs, using sterile, pure ingredients. That’s true. And that’s one good reason why I’d be leery of someone passing me a handful of pills that are intended to cure my baldness made in their garage. OTOH, the likes of Pfizer, Roche, Novartis, and GlaxoSmithKline will hate this DYI development because, well, it’ll mean fewer folks will be compelled to buy their drugs only from those multinational, monolithic business empires.

I’m eager to see how this plays out.

[h/t to Alex Straiker.]

Hot Air: Strong

Woman Of The (Next) Year

Fingers crossed, here’s Bloomington’s next mayor:

Talk Of The Town

Debra Morrow joined me in the studio Monday to record this week’s edition of Big Talk. She, of course, is the executive director of Middle Way House. She walked through the front door of the place for the first time about 14 years ago — as a client. A county sheriff’s deputy had handed her a contact card for MWH because neighbors had called the cops on her behalf.

At the time, the MWH exec director was Toby Strout, a civic institution around these parts and one of the toughest, most focused people you’d ever meet. And at that time, Debra Morrow wouldn’t have been described in such terms.

That’s probably because no one was able to peek underneath the layers of armor that Morrow had wrapped herself in. No one could see her true nature; she’d hidden herself for protection. Now, after a decade and a half of availing herself of all the services Middle Way House has (and had) to offer, the real Debra Morrow has emerged. In her own way, she’s just as tough and focused as Strout was. And now she’s doing the job Strout did.

Morrow was remarkably forthcoming about what drove her to seek assistance at MWH. Her story is alarmingly similar to those of too many other women, those who’ve been crushed, been bullied, been slugged and slashed and spit upon. By men who professed, bizarrely, to love them.

It’s both a shame and a blessing that a place like Middle Way House exists at all.

Tune in Thursday, 5:30pm, immediately following the Daily Local News on WFHB, 91.3 FM. I’ll post the podcast link here Friday AM.


Hot Air: Pols, Polls & Palaver

Two lunkheads agreeing to preside over the respective demises of their superpowers:

History books of the future may well portray this photo as harshly as those of Neville Chamberlain holding up his copy of the Munich Agreement and George W. Bush standing in front of the “Mission Accomplished” banner.

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Political Pontificators

Here’s the link to yesterday’s Big Talk featuring outspoken Indiana University political science professor Jeff Isaac and me riffing on the 2018 mid-term election.

We may be the only two guys on this planet who could make this recently concluded spasm of democracy fun.

BTW: Isaac and I have been batting an idea around for a long time now: Once we get our schedules aligned, he and I are going to be holing ourselves up in the WFHB studios once a month to put together a regular hot air fest, tackling not only politics but…, well, everything. Stayed tuned for more details.

Big Talk airs every Thursday at 5:30pm on WFHB, 91.3 FM.


I’ve been in the studio recording a few Big Talks this week. One of my guests made what amounts to a pre-announcement that s/he is going to run for political office next year.

I’m dying to tell you who it is but I’m holding out in the hope you’ll just listen to Big Talk each week for, oh, say, the rest of this month, okay?


Hot Air: Voters & Visitors


A few takeaways from the most ballyhooed mid-term election since 1994:

  • Funny, I almost feel as though I’ll miss those daily emails from the Joe Donnelly campaign telling me the race between him and Mike Braun was dead even.
  • Who’s doing the polling for Indiana Dems? In 2016 Dem polls said Shelli Yoder and Trey Hollingsworth were running neck and neck. This year, those pollsters told us Donnelly/Braun was a tossup.
  • Polling places in Monroe County ran out of ballots? After all signs pointed to the turnout being historically high? I’m not naming names but somebody screwed up.
  • Wait, what?! An openly gay man, JD Ford, won Indiana’s 29th District State Senate seat? Beating longtime incumbent Mike Delph in a district that is dependably Red? What’s going on around here?
  • The above observation does not at all mean our state isn’t a dead-lock Republican one-party monolith. Both state chambers retain Republican supermajorities, every single statewide elective office is now held by a Republican, and seven of nine Indiana US House members are Republicans. Hell, in our own 9th District, home of the Bloomington SSR, for chrissakes, the Republican beat the Dem by 19 percentage points! Indiana is a GOP empire — and you can’t blame gerrymandering for it.
  • Finally, white suburban women across the nation to a large extent yesterday atoned for their 2016 sin.

You want more? Tune in to Big Talk Thursday at 5:30pm on WFHB, 91.3 FM, as Indiana University poli sci prof Jeff Isaac and I riff on yesterday’s results.


For years, novelists, filmmakers and cranks have been trying to envision the day we get visited by beings from a world other than this mad, mad, mad, mad one.

Extraterrestrials would, in the collective imagination, either be gangly, bellicose, creepy-crawlies as in The War of the Worlds or the cute merchandise tie-ins from ET or peace-seeking envoys like Klaatu.

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Whatever form they’d take, our first encounter with Visitors From Another Planet would cause panic, hysterical reactions, the taking up of arms, and headlines as big as your head. Remember the guy running through the streets of Washington, DC after the saucer landed in The Day the Earth Stood Still? “They’re here! They’ve landed! They’re on the mall! They’re here!”

It always seemed to me our first brush with the caravan from, say, the planetary system of Proxima Centauri b would be the mother of all anticlimaxes. Why? Because a civilization so advanced it could send emissaries from one solar system to another would be virtually unrecognizable to us. Hell, we still think burning decayed dinosaur corpses and sludgy bacteria is the latest thing in propelling ourselves around this little globe. How in the hell are we going to see a deep space probe designed by a group of beings perhaps thousands of years ahead of us, technologically, for what it is?

That’s why this little item is making such a tiny splash. Or, more accurately, no splash at all:

The odds are against this cross between a desiccated turd and a Cheroot being a Spacebus from the planet Gblxcks. I say that only because there are several hundred billion stars in the Milky Way Galaxy (nobody can say for sure how many there are). Even if all those stars were surrounded by one or more planets, home to advanced civilizations, the chances that one of those civilizations would target this unremarkable blue ball for exploration are…, well, astronomical.

This dried up bean pod’ll probably turn out to be some easily explainable chunk of comet or asteroid or some such comparatively pedestrian thing.

But my guess is this is precisely what an alien probe might look like. Something so foreign that when it at last does come near this orb, we’ll all go, Hey, didja see Frances take over on House of Cards last night?

Hot Air: Hot Off The Presses

Art Presages Life

Scene — The breakfast table at the Kane mansion.

EMILY KANE: Really, Charles. People will think….

CHARLES FOSTER KANE: What I tell them to think!


So, yesterday I’m driving home from the Indianapolis Public Library, central branch, an ignored treasure if there ever was one, and I get a call. I’m on SR 37 — the future I-69, between Indy and Martinsville — so I can’t pick the phone up. I mean, I’d seen at least a half dozen people already in the texting/driving position, heads bowed slightly, one hand on the wheel, their eyes jerking up sporadically as if they’ve suddenly remembered they’re piloting a ton and a half of metal, plastic and rubber at 68 mph, but jeez, this convo I’m having with Rachel about her stupid boyfriend, you’ve gotta realize, it’s far more important than anybody’s life, right?

Anyway, I’m the good citizen so I wait until I get to Chez Big Mike to find out who’s bugging me. Star 86. It’s a guy with a very deep voice and a very thick Middle Eastern accent. It’s almost difficult to make out what he’s saying…, but, wait, really, not too difficult, as if whoever conjured this man out of thin air wants me to know what he’s saying in no uncertain terms.

He’s saying tomorrow’s election day. And, for god’s sake, the whole of the Senate and the House will be up for grabs. So we must go out and vote. Our future depends on it.

And then the guy signs off, making sure I know he’s from some kind of Arab-American organization, so generically named that it just can’t be real and — you know what? — I’ll guarantee you it ain’t.

Here They Come!

I’ll guarantee you further that this is some kind of political punking, staged by…, well, take a guess. The idea being I’ll be so scared that I’ll 1) poo in my pants and 2) make goddamned sure to go out and vote tomorrow to stop them Sharia Law Ay-Rabs from taking over this holy land Wednesday AM after the votes have been counted.

I suppose some folks are afraid that maybe the dreaded “caravan” isn’t enough to whip up the troops this year.

Speaking Of Politics

Outspoken — often outrageous — Indiana University political science professor Jeff Isaac and I will dissect the 2018 election on this week’s Big Talk, Thursday at 5:30pm on WFHB, 91.3 FM. It’ll also stream live at that time and I’ll post a link to the podcast at 6pm sharp.

Isaac’s champing at the bit to come on my chatfest because he’s just released a spanking new book called Against Trump: Notes From Year One. Dig this blurb:

In Jeffrey Isaac, Donald Trump, his movement, and his party have met the most lucid, eloquent adversary imaginable. He is both rousing and logical. He is blunt where bluntness is called for, where the alternative to bluntness is blindness.

And y’know who wrote that blurb? Todd freaking Gitlin, uber-famed chronicler of the New Left and prof. at Columbia University. How’s that for props?

Isaac and I will try to figure out what will have gone down tomorrow and what it all means for us, our kids and our kids’ kids.

Honestly, Big Talk’s on a roll this month. My guest next week will be Debra Morrow, exec director of Middle Way House, and the week after that I’ll have Black Lives Matter activist Vauhxx Booker on the program. Booker will also be the subject of this month’s Big Mike’s B-town column, a regular feature in the Limestone Post.

How’m I gonna top that in Dec.?

Hot Air: Geeky Me

From today’s New York Times:

NASA’s Dawn spacecraft, in orbit around the asteroid Ceres, has died quietly, the space agency announced on Thursday.

I’m of the generation that remembers being excited when Telstar went up. Yep, that was July, 1962. I was six years old and had been hooked on space ever since Gus Grissom and John Glenn went up for joyrides in their Mercury capsules atop, respectively, Redstone and Atlas rockets. Grissom, BTW, was born and raised in Mitchell, Indiana, just a few miles south of us on SR 37. His boyhood home has been preserved and there’s a neat little Grissom museum — I’ve written about it herein before — near the entrance of Spring Mill State Park.

Early astronauts in the car (L to R): Elliot See, Gordon Cooper, Neil Armstrong, and Gus Grissom, flipping the bird.

Anyway, Telstar was the first space satellite designed to relay television and other communications signals across great distances. It transmitted the first space-relayed TV image, a flag at the Andover Earth Station, across the Atlantic Ocean from Maine in the US to the Pleumeur-Bodou satellite communication center in far-northwest France. Both stations had been built to monitor that first Telstar and relay signals that’d been bounced off it. The flag image transmission was a closed-circuit test.

The first public transmission was a joint news program hosted by CBS’s Walter Cronkite and NBC’s Chet Huntley in the US and the BBC’s Richard Dimbleby in Brussels, Belgium. The transmission was to be carried on all three US major networks at the time as well as Eurovision and Canada’s CBC. The plan was for the three to talk live with then-President John F. Kennedy in Washington. Due to timing issues, the JFK segment couldn’t be done so producers — I love this — broadcast instead a few minutes of the Chicago Cubs versus Philadelphia Phillies baseball game being played at that moment in Chicago’s Wrigley Field. The Cubs, naturally, lost that day, this being the Dark Ages of the team’s history.

Telstar 1

Telstar was a great improvement over the Project Echo satellites, which were really glorified balloons shot up into low orbit. The first Echo was launched in 1960. It had a metallic finish and so was able to reflect crude microwave signals back to Earth. Sometimes I’d sneak outside in the backyard in the middle of the night to watch Echo pass overheard in a generally south to north path. When I’d spot it, my neck sore from craning for so long in search of it, I felt as though I was connected to outer space. I wanted to dash back inside and wake everybody up to tell them what I’d seen but thought the better of it when I considered my efforts would only have been rewarded with a solid clunk on the head for sneaking out.

Space launches back in the early and mid ’60s were events. Every manned launch was carried live on all three networks. Even unmanned satellite launches were covered live on TV. It all culminated with the launch of Apollo 11, the first to put humans on the moon, in July, 1969. After that successful voyage, space launches became old hat. Now, the only people who know in advance about launches, manned or not, are space geeks like me glued to our YouTube streams. And the only way a space launch will garner real attention these days is if one or more people are killed in a lurid explosion.

My guess is when whatever space agency decides to send astronauts to Mars, we’ll all be excited about a space launch once again. Then we’ll go back to shrugging our shoulders for successive launches.

During the early days of the space race, it’d be almost inconceivable to think we’d be sending a probe to orbit an asteroid, but that’s what Dawn‘s mission indeed was. It was launched in 2007 to study the asteroids Vesta and Ceres. Ceres, technically, is a dwarf planet, like Pluto. It’s about 600 miles in diameter. Nevertheless, it’s part of the millions of hunks of rock and dust that orbit the sun in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, the result of a cloud of space detritus that failed to coalesce into an honest-to-gosh planet, probably because the gravity effect of that big lug Jupiter kept the stuff from forming a single mass.

Dawn (artist’s conception from

Now Dawn has gone quiet.

And I still get a kick out of machines — and humans — being blasted into space.

The Big Lowdown

Don’t miss today’s episode of Big Talk. My guest will be longtime journalist Jeremy Shere, founder and co-host of The Btown Lowdown. TBL is a weekly podcast featuring a calendar of events hereabouts and an interview with an interesting local figure (next week it’ll be Kel McBride, the Lively Death Lady, talking about her Before I Die Festival.

Shere says he’s based his model on that established by Malcolm Abrams and Bloom magazine. If Abrams could succeed in the face of a lot of naysaying, Shere suggests, so can he and TBL. The secret? Extraordinary perseverance and a devotion to high quality.

Big Talk airs today at 5:30pm on WFHB, 91.3 FM, immediately after the Daily Local News. And, of course, I’ll throw a podcast link your way here, tomorrow AM.

Hot Air: Drugs & Birds

Lots of people on my side of the fence loathe big pharmaceutical companies — and, don’t get me wrong, Big Pharma has committed more than its share of mortal sins. But deep-pocketed drug manufacturers are doing the heavy lifting when it comes to research, mainly because the citizenry of this holy land has decided scientific inquiry and higher education…, hell, all education, aren’t worth spending too many of our tax dollars on.

A number of my pals who are working diligently at Indiana University trying to tease out medicinal benefits from the cannabis plant have to beg like paupers for grants to continue their delving. It seems these scientists are always thisclose to having to shut down their labs because they just may run out of scratch.

Anyway, the Bloomington Science Cafe will convene this Friday at Bear’s Place, where George Rebec will talk about “Hope For Huntington’s.” Eyeball this quote from the BSC communique:

Huntington’s disease, a fatal neurodegenerative condition that strikes in the prime of life, is caused by a single gene defect. The mutant gene was identified in 1993 but hope for a cure was far from assured as subsequent research revealed an amazingly complex role for this gene in brain function. Now, a positive phase I clinical trial and a $45 million bet from Roche suggests a reason for optimism.

Bloomington Science Cafe, Friday, Nov. 2, 2018, 6:30pm, Bear’s Place.

See that? F. Hoffman-La Roche AG, a member of the Big Pharma gang if their ever was one, is risking 45-large on experiments and tests for a possible avenue to a possible drug that may — only may — offer some hope to Huntington’s sufferers. I don’t see many other big corporations playing 21 with that kind of dough on research.

I’ll be at Bear’s Friday eve. at 6:30. See you there.


You think things are weird today?

Lemme tell you a story. The Loved One and I took the hounds down to Lake Monroe yesterday evening. It was getting near dark when we pulled into the parking lot on the peninsula at Paynetown SRA. A woman was standing on the point peering at something through binoculars.

As I got out of my hot rod, I noticed a bunch of birds hanging out at the shoreline. “Hey, honey,” I called out as she was dancing off with Sally the Dog, “the place is full of killdeers.”

TLO was unable to check them out w/ me because Sally was yanking her toward some irresistible scent. But the woman sauntered over and scoped the birds. “No,” she announced after a few moments, “they aren’t killdeer. They have long beaks, about one and a half times the size of their heads that turn up. They’re some other species. It’s getting too dark for me to be sure about them. They have those beaks because they flip through the sand and gravel on the shore — they’re a type of shorebird — looking for grubs and shells and worms.”

Paynetown’s home to scads of killdeer.

She went on like this for some minutes, talking about rings around their necks, and their light-colored underbellies. By and by, she announced proudly that the day before she’d spotted a loon. “They don’t live around her,” she explained. “It was passing through on its migration south.”

Clearly, the woman loved and knew birds. She loved even more expounding on them. It was a neat little encounter.

It hit me as we drove away that back when I was a little kid, in the mid-1960s, that kind of woman — she was wearing a baseball cap and cargo pants and had her trusty binocs strung around her neck — would have been an object of ridicule on sitcoms. If you’re of my generation, surely you remember laugh tracks going wild at the sight of Miss Jane of The Beverly Hillbillies and her gang of weirdo birdwatchers, togged similarly. Funny elderly ladies in sneakers looking at birds was a stale trope by the time I was ten.

The message? You never wanted to grow old and be a birdwatcher. You never even wanted to know anybody like that. The were ridiculous, clowns even.

Things maybe be weird around this world today but, hell, 50 years ago things were just as weird or even weirder.

Hot Air: Nudity Is Dangerous, I Guess

The New York Times reports today that social media sites have gone bonkers these last few days since the synagogue massacre in Pittsburgh. Anencephalics from all corners of this mad, mad, mad, mad globe are spewing their anti-Semitic venom, blaming the Jews for everything from 9/11 to the common cold.

This raises the charge that social media platforms have been lax for lo these many years in policing their sites for hate-mongers and dangerous loons.

Oh sure, alleged goofball Robert Bowers, who the cops say opened fire on worshippers at the Tree of Life Congregation, did a lot of his communicating on a site called Gab — nope, no link; tough shit — devoted to those who reside under slimy rocks. But the likes of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and others have hosted their shares of repugnant opinions and suggestions proffered by the type of lunkheads from whose  numbers arise crazed shooters.

Those mainstream social media platforms say they’ve done their best to police their users’ posts but the fact  is they’ve been obsessively concerned with naked ladies and a lot less worried about reprobates calling for actions against minorities.

Take this quote from the NYT article:

Facebook said this year that only 38 percent of hate speech on its site was flagged by its internal systems. In contrast, its systems pinpointed and took down 96 percent of what it defined as adult nudity, and 99.5 percent of terrorist content.

Great. Thanks, Facebook.

Look, I dig the 1st Amendment the way Trumpists slobber over the 2nd but, for chrissakes, the people who, for the last ten years or so, have been posting Birther insanity, antisemitic memes, rape threats, and all manner of flat-out lies are now certifiably dangerous. As US Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes wrote in a 1919 decision:

The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man falsely shouting fire in a theatre and causing a panic…. The question in every case is whether the words used are used in such circumstances and are of such a nature as to create a clear and present danger that they will bring about the substantive evils that Congress has a right to prevent.

When you’re tittering about rape, when you’re blaming the Jews for this or that, when you claim the duly (and popularly) elected president of the United States wasn’t born in this country, you’ve lost your Constitutional protection of free speech. That kind of talk is the same as shouting “Fire!”


Where do I do my best thinking? Several places.

In the AM, the first thing I do after hauling my creaking carcass out of bed (well, the first thing after one or two certain functions) is to stand at the kitchen sink, peer out the window at the big expanse of green behind Chez Big Mike, and wash the dishes. I find it a comforting ritual and extremely conducive to philosophical musing.

I also think deep thoughts while showering. What is it about me and water when it comes to cogitation?

The third place for solitary thinking is in the car as I gallivant around these parts. I like, for instance, to get up to Indy maybe once a week. The run up SR 135 from Nashville is perfect for mulling especially when, north of Morgantown, the landscape becomes Midwestern flat.

Anyway, I was thinking recently of all those people who’d voted for Barack Obama in 2008 and then — dang, mang, I still don’t get this — voted for Li’l Duce in 2016. Okay, fine, I get those who voted for BHO the first time and then, when he came up for reelection in 2012, went with Mitt Romney. In retrospect, that doesn’t seem such a baffling turnaround, considering there really wasn’t all that much to distinguish between the two. Hell, Obama’s signature health care plan was essentially lifted in toto for Romney’s own med. plan when he was Gov. of the state of Mass.

But how in this crazy, mixed-up world does one go from wanting as president a well-educated, soft-spoken, former community organizer whose strength was hearing the people’s voice, who was a domestic-issue wonk, and one who bridged the heretofore irreconcilable worlds of America’s blacks and whites to then hoping a notoriously ill-informed, crass, unread, incurious, nativist, divisive, utterly self-centered greed monkey will become this holy land’s Dear Leader?

It’s downright bizarre.

In fact, the only analogy I can think of is it’s like someone saying, “Y’know, I’m a vegetarian,” and then asking if you want to come out for a steak dinner.

I hope to hell those people try to atone for their sin Tuesday.


Hot Air: He Never Learns

Okay, whoever picked the under in yesterday’s post (I set the over/under for President Gag even mentioning the bomb plot against Dems/libs at Saturday) wins a lifetime subscription to this global communications colossus. He condemned, in general terms, any domestic terrorist acts on Wednesday.

Hey, give Li’l Duce credit: He’s learning on the job. Learning how to be something less than a complete and utter jerk.

Oh, wait, now comes news that The Leader of the Free World today has blamed the news media for creating the toxic environment that can push lunatics over the edge and do things like send bombs to a Democratic former president, a Democratic former vice president, the imagined villainous financier of the liberal plot to take over the world, the Democratic New York governor, the black woman Democratic member of the US House whom the Right has elevated to Satanic status, an outspoken liberal actor, and a perceived purveyor of liberal propaganda (as seen by the paranoiacs of the Far Right), among others. All objects of the President’s own delusional, aggrieved appeals to the worst possible nightmares of a notoriously incurious, uninformed, panic-driven electorate — you know, the one that put him in office with a minority of votes.

In other words, he’s (take your pick) gaslighting or blaming the victim.

That credit that I almost gave P. Gag three grafs up? I take it back. He remains a complete and utter jerk.

Online & On The Air

Big Mike’s B-town, my monthly column in Limestone Post (really, it’s every four weeks but, y’know…),  runs today in the online mag. It’s about the proposed cohousing development slated to to be built on the city’s south side, on South Maxwell Street, to be exact-ish.

BM’s B-town usually focuses on a single person but this time you get two for one: the person who co-founded the Bloomington Cohousing Project, Marion Sinclair, and the developer, Loren Wood, who’s making the project go.

When finished, the cohousing development will look something like this.

And, as always the column runs concurrently with the airing of the week’s Big Talk on WFHB, 91.3 FM. Since the column has two subjects, I spread the related Big Talk coverage over two weeks. Last week, we aired the Wood interview and this week, at 5:30pm today, we’ll play the Sinclair program.

You can get a sneak preview of my chat with Marion Sinclair by clicking on this podcast link. Otherwise, tune your radio to ‘FHB and listen immediately after today’s edition of the Daily Local News.

Hot Air: An Explosive Silence

So, several bombs have been either mailed or dropped off to the bete noires of the paranoiac, lunatic Right: the Clintons, Barack Obama, and George Soros.

Not much is known about these terrorist acts as of this writing.

A pipe bomb like this was hand-delivered to Soros’ home.

I do know this, though: President Gag will say nothing about them today.

In fact, I’m setting the over/under for his first utterance on the incidents at three days. So he won’t comment about them at all until Saturday. That is, if he follows his normal M.O. The Saudi rubbing out of journalist Jamal Kashoggi, for example, was a non-event in his eyes for many long days

It took the few sane people in his admin. that long to convince him the President of the United States ought to at least say something about the assassination, considering the Saudis are our dearest pals and we supply them with tons and tons of weapons with which they can slay civilians in Yemen and other locales. Hell, they may be prone to employ our American-made guns & ammo on their own folks should the need arise. The Saudi Royal Family, like all such bloodliners, is far more interested in maintaining absolute power and wealth than in trivial nonsense like the continued health and free speech of their citizenry.

Okay then, anybody who picks today, tomorrow or Friday as the day Li’l Duce mealy-mouthedly condemns the bomb senders — and the President-on-a-technicality actually does say something — wins a lifetime subscription to this global communications colossus.

Sweet Music

I just discovered a neat little band producing some sweet sounds reminiscent of a shotgun marriage between Julee Cruise and Brian Eno with a touch of sunshine pop thrown in. The band is called LDYCP.

Do yourself a favor and check ’em out.

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