I still can’t ****ing believe it. I can’t believe the President of the United States had tear gas and rubber bullets fired at peaceful protesters last night so he could clear the way for a photo op.
This is junta bullshit.
Look at the footage.
Look at the cops beating people with batons so that this ****head could stand in front of a church with a Bible over his head.
This is not America.
If you want to see even 1 percent of what is happening in America’s cities right now, put aside Facebook and WordPress and get on Twitter. There is an abundance of footage from cell phone cameras and from local news stations.
Even before the current national crisis, I consistently learned 100 times more from my Twitter feed than from other platforms. (Of course it depends largely on who you “follow,” but still.)
Friends, Americans, countrymen — lend me your fears.
I come to divide the nation, not lead it.
The evil that I tweet will live after me;
the truth will be twisted by nationalist drones.
So let it be with America.
My critics say I am dangerous
— is that so grievous a fault?
America, you have enabled me.
Obama; Bush; Bush, Sr.;
and Clinton were honorable men,
Despite their various differences,
all honorable men.
But I’ll make America chaos,
subservient only to me.
My critics say I am dangerous,
and my critics are honorable men.
But did they entertain at great rallies,
where hatred made your heart full?
Is it this that seems dangerous?
When all are are divided, no Union is left;
Nations should be made of sterner stuff.
Oh America, thou art ruled by brutish beasts!
For you have lost your reason!—Bear with me;
My prescription bottle is in my pocket,
And I must pause to tweak.
~ Trumpus Antonius
(c) Eric Robert Nolan 2020
Photo credit: By Gage Skidmore from Peoria, AZ, United States of America – Donald Trump, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=49611649
These are just a couple of shots of Roanoke that I altered with basic photo-editing software. I don’t know why, but I like black-and-white photos with their details enhanced and with plenty of dark spaces in them.
I have no doubt that a proficient photographer would look at shots like these and find them to be elementary stuff. But I’m still learning about the process and having fun with it.
I’m so happy today to see that The Piker Press has featured my very short love poem, “Ode,” in its May 25 issue. You can find it right here.
As always, thanks to Editor Sand Pilarski for including me in The Piker Press community!
Today begins my efforts to establish a National Talk-Like-Bane Day.
(We already have Talk-Like-a-Pirate Day; why not this?) And it will persuade people to wear their masks.
So I’m getting better at editing photos — I’d like to think that these old shots of Salem, VA turned out pretty neat.
So my latest get-rich-quick scheme is to rent out billboard space on my truly immense damned forehead. Seriously. Look at that thing. I do believe that it is actually getting bigger by the year, but I don’t want to follow that thought through to its logical conclusion, because it would mean that I have a receding hairline.
Anyway, the price is negotiable. No pro-Trump messages, of course. (And I’m sure the president will be disappointed, because my forehead is the possibly the only space large enough to fit the word “HYDROXYCHLOROQUINE” in big bold letters.) I cannot ethically advertise any product that exposes credulous white people to questionable chemicals. So neither will I promote either Essential Oils nor Pumpkin Spice Latte. When it comes to my giant forehead, With great power comes great responsibility.
Or maybe I could rent the space out as a movie screen, what with drive-ins bouncing back during the pandemic. You could throw some Alfred Hitchcock up there.
