Dispatches From Idjetville
I've always known that I was poorly educated. Yet had I known that very trait would endear me to greatness, I would not have skulked so long in stupidity's shadows. Now, thanks to Donald Trump, the man unafraid to embrace ignorance in the face of ignominy, I'm dumb, proud and wear it loud.
Bucking conventional wisdom, Trump's proclamation that he loves us (non-Muslim) Americans who are the antithesis of intellectual, has not only created opportunity for us almost overnight, but a revolution, too.
And now, because of my lack of education and overall inability to discern priority among the most serious issues facing our country, I'm choosing to look at the impact his affections will have on fashion. I know what you're thinking: Since when did the poorly educated concern themselves with things like style? Chances are, anyone who assumes otherwise is likely in this newly adored subset of Americans.
Instead of every non-book cracking citizen hijacking an industry which has long left us out in the cold, I submit that smarty pants everywhere will suddenly be donning counterfeit versions of our daily fashion staples. And although resplendent versions of my own cracker wardrobe, for instance, will undoubtedly compromise authenticity, I'm anxious to see which things are copycatted first.
Think of it. Adult bibs will be in vogue simply because idiots drool. It's how we roll! Watch not only items of clothing but the particular manner in which they're worn. At the very least, expect to see hats worn backwards, shoes without any more complicated strings to tie and, maybe best of all, "I'm with stupid" t-shirts with the arrow pointing straight up.
Defying the notion that the word 'elite' encompasses a minority, our once mainstream attire will be the pinnacle of avant garde. So be warned, all you snobs. The shoe will finally be not just on the other foot, but the wrong one, to boot.
The Donald and Me
If I'd known he was coming, I'd have baked a cake!
This time, I didn't fail to register the context of a politician's remark. Honey, I heard you loud and clear...
It was spoken unambiguously and even in animated, sincere fashion. Donald Trump, exulting in yet another primary win, declared, "I love the poorly educated!"
A double take was seen throughout the nation. Ok, perhaps his wording was an unfortunate technicality. I'm not formally educated, but that may not translate as "poorly" so.
In any case, any of us who fall under that great big umbrella are probably having an assortment of reactions, as it's certainly a grand example of a backhanded compliment, right up there with, "Idiots rock!" Waaaait a minute. That sure fits on a bumper sticker better than his original line, doesn't it?
"Morons untie" could be another, but then we don't want to aggravate dyslexics who are notoriously intelligent and apt to be left outside of the Donald's orange faced, broom headed, squinty eyed adoring glance. Yep, for once, anyone with a paucity of cranial matter may proudly march, teeny tiny heads held high, in this crazy, nutty parade called the 2016 US presidential election.
This'll be about...
... links, virtual winks, shifted realties and invisible vibratory offerings which may not have enough substantive scientific support to pry the often righteously snarling skeptics from their surly perches.
Yeah, you heard me right. I said 'often righteously skeptical". (And I said "I" and not "we" to underline the utterly subjective nature of this Part I in an itty bitty series. "We " ain't dead if only because "we" want to see how long it takes some folks to recognize it's a legitimate if unearthy way to address bunches of people we don't know. Yet. Yet.)
Anyway, William Tillman, among others with impeccable academic credentials which I admire and will never accrue, writes beautifully about shifted realities but no one does out better than Cynthia Sue Larson. Her website, realityshifters.com, is enough to keep a willing wisher, one with determination and tools, anyway, fascinated for - in my case years.
The dog photo? A cheap way to get your attention. This is TL. I love this gorgeous moody little son of an even prettier bitch and will write about why he's here in Part II, which I'll write after I do this - yes - psychic reading.
That's what Part II will finally begin to discuss. Call all the skeptics on this one. I'll need you to balance the room from those who believe everything that comes down the pike.
But know this. If I wasn't pretty darn good at this, do you think for a second I'll tell almost 11K people that it's what I do?
Exactly. Now everyone get in here for a great big fuzzy group hug. Except the ferrets. (Just kidding. But keep an eye on them, OK?)
The Buddha Hand
You can Google it, but they can't taste it for you...
On our seemingly endless quest to experience surges of simultaneous surprise/delight, do we happily post today's weird offering. Ladies and gentlemen, boys, girls and you who are still undecided...
Presenting The Buddha Hand. Maybe not THE Buddha Hand, but one of several that had gathered a bit of a crowd at our local Von's market. If you're curious, it's in the fruit section. This one's ripe. They are closed and open like - well, a hand.
For the extra curious, it tastes a bit like Lemon Head candy: tart, yes, but with its own sugar built in.
For the price? You can get a whoooole lot more Lemon Heads.
Hey everybody - looking for another foster situation. The first place was just busted for too many pups. Ollie is the sweetest boy. Loves people, other animals. 70 and 7 years-old.
His owner was a young man who was deployed for the military and very sad to lose his baby. Can we please try to find him a forever home? He's in North Georgia.
Thank you for trying! Serious interest holler at us
and I'll send you info.
Thanks, too, to everyone for following. Your prayers help, too!
after a certain pup got his surgical collar off and chewed his sore open
I'm sorry, Mom.
You're not sorry, either. You've been trying to get that thing off for two days.
Um, Roger actually -
STOP! Don't even go there. Blaming your brother.
Yeah but you know how smart those poodles are.
You'll really hate that thing if you're hopping around on three legs, you know.
MOOOOOMMM! That's a TERRIBLE thing to say to me!
You're right. You can't get out of it this time because I that's a real collar I just put on you.
Yeah, who's this guy Bret Michaels anyway? His name's on it...
A whole lot smarter than I am, that's for sure.
Aw, Mom, that's imPOSSible... You're the smartest, bestest, pret-
Mom, I -
I know. Me, too. Now go to sleep before I debone you and make a hat band out of you.
Why they're wearing sunglasses in Rochester tonight...
Once again, a ridiculously beautiful lunar sighting from the gimlet eye of Tom Quigley.
Our friend has outdone himself this time.
A tip of the hat from moon lovers all over...