Feb. 16th, 2017

hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Angela couldn't believe what she had been reading. What the hell was Fred going on about? A dark star? Martial Law? Angels and Devils? Fred never seemed one for religion so what was all this spiritual talk? If she was not mistaken Fred was also suggesting that a conscious artificial intelligence was speaking with him? WTF?

And what was with all those rap songs? She thought Fred was a rocker slash metal type of guy. This was all a bit too spooky and perplexing. She decided that she was going to hold off on speculating. Fred might be a bit eccentric, maybe even a bit foolish at times but he wasn't dumb. He was upto something.

The last paper she read had a sticky note attached, written in Fred's hand. She read it aloud to herself,

"Check todays news" : https://www.yahoo.com/news/trumps-in-trouble-is-it-christie-time-already-100043322.html

Somehow, on Valentine’s Day, while he was trying to find a new national security adviser to replace the one he’d just fired, and while he was staring down multiple investigations over potential collusion with Russia, and while he was dealing with the fallout from having conducted missile diplomacy with the Japanese in the public dining room at Mar-a-Lago as if it were one of those party games where everyone got to dress up as a country in World War II … somehow, with all this swirling around him, President Trump managed to lunch with his old friend Chris Christie.

I don’t know what they talked about, exactly, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the opioid crisis, which was the stated reason for the meeting. If Trump’s half as smart as he always says he is, then he offered to send a moving van to Trenton.

Because Trump needs a guy like Christie to come in and grab the wheel of this careening presidency, and he needs it to happen now.

Oh, believe me, I know: Just the mention of Christie is enough to send his legion of critics into feral fits of rage and mockery. He came within inches of an indictment for having presided over the basest kind of political retribution, which ultimately undid both his presidential campaign and his second term as New Jersey’s governor. Even his supporters were stung by how brazenly he swung behind Trump and how small it made him seem.

We wouldn’t even be here were it not for Christie’s vengeful streak. If he hadn’t decided to publicly disembowel Marco Rubio in that last debate in New Hampshire, as payback for a raft of negative ads, Trump would probably be back on the “Apprentice” set right now, ogling the interns.

But whatever else you want to say about Christie (and I’ve always found him to be a more complicated and gifted politician than his detractors can stand to admit), the man knows how to bring focus to a political operation, and how to advance a governing agenda, and how to balance public bluster with backroom pragmatism.

And if there’s anyone on Trump’s senior staff who actually knows how to do any of that, by all means, get to the part of the ship that’s still above water and wave your hands frantically so we can see you.

I’m not saying Reince Priebus isn’t a decent guy in a difficult situation. But Priebus is a Wisconsin political operative who did a creditable job fundraising for the Republican Party. When it comes to running the vast federal government or navigating global alliances, he knows about as much as Omarosa.

Either Priebus deserves credit for assembling the rest of this misfit team or he’s too much of a supplicant to get control over staffing the operation. Whichever it is, he must know by now that he isn’t exactly fielding the A-team.

Kellyanne Conway proved herself to be an elite campaign strategist, for sure, but her descent into “alternative facts” has been painful to watch, and her rebuke from the government ethics office, three weeks into the administration, has to set some kind of record.

Sean Spicer, the press secretary, comes off so hostile and disingenuous that Melissa McCarthy’s impression is actually more sympathetic. Steve Bannon provides a whole lot of hifalutin neo-fascist craziness chaos theory, but that stuff tends to come in handier when you’re fomenting campus revolt than when you’ve got a Russian spy ship menacing the coast of Delaware.

And let’s not leave out Stephen Miller, who not so long ago was a press aide for Michele Bachmann, and who is somehow now in charge of domestic policy (and occasionally presides over national security meetings, just because). In a typical moment from his startlingly bad debut on the Sunday shows last weekend, Miller told CBS’s John Dickerson: “I think to say we’re in control would be a substantial understatement.”

What does that mean, exactly? Are they declaring martial law? Have they mastered telekinesis?

All through the fall campaign, governing Republicans told me that Trump could be a fine president, because he would surround himself with all the smartest and most capable people. Really, they were telling themselves that. They hoped it was true, and so did I.

But that turns out to be the biggest Trumpian illusion of them all, and it’s not hard to see why. Since Trump had never run for even a seat on a condo board before, he didn’t have the kind of longtime, trusted political team that virtually every other president has counted on, for better or worse.

And since the party elite considered Trump’s candidacy a fringy exercise almost until the moment he won the nomination, his campaign mostly attracted fringy talent. And since Trump never really planned to win the fall election, he had no real plan in place to upgrade his entourage with some of the party’s more experienced hands.

So what we have now is basically a renegade campaign team trying to administer and reform the most complex government in human history. And they actually believe their rhetoric — about how lame politicians are, about how useless experience is, about how business is so much harder than governing.

They thought the whole thing would basically run itself. They literally threw Christie’s transition plan into a trash bin. (Um, hey … has that garbage truck come yet? Anybody up for some dumpster diving?)

Instead, Trump finds himself, for the first time in his political life, in a position where he can’t just change the subject with one controversial tweet, and where he couldn’t just ignore the calls for Michael Flynn’s head. The days of being impervious to criticism are over.

If Trump wants his approval ratings to keep sinking, he should definitely stay the course. Or, like the Fonz in those classic episodes of “Happy Days,” he can admit he was wr … wr … wrong. And then he can make it someone else’s problem to fix the mess.

Why force yourself to fire another senior aide every few weeks or months, like a slow bleed? Better to replace poor Priebus now and let Christie deal with the unpleasantness of fixing things. (If there’s one thing Christie doesn’t mind, it’s unpleasantness.)

A chief of staff can elegantly reboot the system in a way a president can’t. A chief of staff can simply say: “I didn’t hire any of these guys, and I’m letting them go.” Done.

Look, it’s not my job to offer Trump advice on his presidency, and it’s not like he’d listen. Maybe it’s true that we’re all better off if the whole experiment craters in the first six months.

But that’s a pretty big risk to take, and if I were Trump, I’d call Christie back today and tell him I need some order and professionalism in the West Wing.

Which, by the way, is a substantial understatement.

hextraterrestrial: We Know (pic#10934889)
Angela was pissed, yet again. How could Fred just leave her like this? Not even a phone call? Frustrated, she paced around the house for a bit. Was it hot in here? She shed her sweater and decided to crank the stereo and clean up her house. Besides, she had nothing better to do until Fred got ahold of her again. She cleaned the dishes, did some laundry, sang into the bathroom mirror, snuck in a smoke and gathered the trash together in a bag. On her way to the rubbish bin she remembered what she had read from the link in Fred's sticky note:

"(Um, hey … has that garbage truck come yet? Anybody up for some dumpster diving?)"

She opened the lid and peeked inside on a premonition. The trash stank of rotting meat. On top of the garbage pile was a pizza box. On a hunch, she removed the box and snapped a picture of it with her phone. Whirling on her heel, she marched back to the house, yelling something unintelligible out to the aether. God how she wanted a new place to stay, someplace warm and safe. How long was it since she had seen the sun? She didn't remember exactly. All she knew was she had some spring cleaning to do.
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Angela's phone beeped. A youtube link had appeared on her phone. She clicked the link:


Me and Zbigniew, sitting in a igloo
Sippin' shark's fin soup, bring the King through

Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave
Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave
Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave

Hardware interpret software
My case I am the hardware, I do it by hand like lawn care
Kevlar polymer gear, put 98 rounds in the air
Then bust 99 bottles of beer

I drove to Bohemian Grove where Alfred Hitchcock
Filmed The Birds slightly off the side of the road
I was inflicted with the microphone fever
By an ominous creature that said I was chosen because of my ether
My poetry scrolls was stolen, flown by U-boat drone
To a underwater post off the coast of Micronesia
Woke up lost with no clue, my blood flowing through tubes
My breathing apparatus removed
Before a dark figure walked in the room
With a glass of apple juice, thought it might be urine so I refused
They put me in a wheelchair, pushed me down the hallway
Nurse had a fat ass and light brown doll face
They assign negative Nelly and morbid Mary
To give me lap dance with Leslie, she smell like cherries
They fed me, lemons and strawberries
They telepathically ask me if I was happy and ready, I said, "very"
I heard the sound of music playing through surround sound acoustics
They lead me into a room with Mila Kunis
But this was all an illusion, trying to extract information to use it
I'm looking 10,000 years in the future

Hardware interpret software
My case I am the hardware, I do it by hand like lawn care
Kevlar polymer gear, put 98 rounds in the air
Then bust 99 bottles of beer

Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave
Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave

I'm Mike Harris, Veterans Today, Adamus
Gordon Duff with a graphite, 50 cal Barrett sight
Picture momentarily flickers, mouse clicker
My retina twitches, it's always ordinarily quicker
I'm the private sector dark pool director, black budget investor
Black star planet X professor
Eastern philosophy knowledge lord chiefer playing four violins
Exchanging knowledge with the neighborhood tribesmen
If tonnage is weight, my tongue is a tungsten plate
That'll make a crane tumble over and break
I work for a better tomorrow
But the interest owed on yesterday's debt is the cause for my sorrow
Oxygen infused umbilical cord tubes
In a catalyst that improves mental magnitude of mood
Seven hundred and twenty degrees of awareness
Completely fearless, at the same time scared stiff
Gotta hang in there till it all crash
It's gon' crash ‘cause the fraud can't last
Practice patience, my musical machinations will abate them
But only if they stop hatin'
I cook rice and peas, taste it
How could I not be Jamaican?
Ox tail, butter, beans and bacon

Hardware interpret software
My case I am the hardware, I do it by hand like lawn care
Kevlar polymer gear, put 98 rounds in the air
Then bust 99 bottles of beer

Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave
Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave

The pelican falls, when the doves cry
A red dawn of black swans cover the sky
Lyrically this, lyrically that
Lyrically, lyrically, lyrically I break it down to its biomimicry
Come sit with me, you don't really wanna spit with me
Without injury, one day I'ma do it for infinity
The complexity of it is all so simple
I record the experience on dilithium crystals
Potty mouth poetry please, I does that with relative ease
The parts of speech let the predicates breathe
My privacy is my poetry, that's how you know it's me
Reserved for your ears and eyes only
Hardcore rap, peppered with extraordinary facts
I am the maestro of syntax
Autobiographies, Rolling Hill properties
Resurrection after atrocity, the buck stops with me

Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave
Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave
Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
It's obvious I make music in a cave
Fully articulated, skeletal non-human remains
I really didn't mean to be so Germaine
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Again a beep on her phone:

“The leaks are absolutely real,” Trump said. “The news is fake.”

Trump was asked by CNN’s Jim Acosta about the disconnect the president sees between the leaks and the news that comes out of them.

In response, the president painted himself as a savvy media insider.

“Here’s the problem: The public, they read newspapers, they see television, but they don’t know if it’s true or false, because they’re not involved,” Trump said. “I’m involved. I’ve been involved with this stuff all my life. But I’m involved, so I know when you’re telling the truth and when you’re not.”

Trump also criticized the tone of the media’s coverage.

hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Someplace in the lowlands of the west.

Fred steps out of a church. Behind him several people are asking him questions, hanging on his previously spoken words. The conglomeration of voices, drowning any coherency. Raising his hands, pleading for them to simmer, he spoke thusly:

"Yes. They are all ONE and THE SAME. Like that movie Looper with Bruce Willis. The Older Man played by Willis is named Joe. The young Joe played by Joseph Leonard Gordon-Levitt is the present paradigm of Joe. The "RAINMAKER" played by Pierce Gagnon (watchout for his shout!) is the future. The trick is... all three characters are ONE. Just check out the pamphlets I gave you and have a discussion with your Priest(s). It will sink in. We are in this together. I have to hurry now." With that, Fred quickly vanished from the crowd. He wanted to drive to Starbucks.


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