I've known the son of a powerful New York Mafia don. He told me, "They started telling me when I was a brat kid that everyone is just as crooked as everyone else. That no one is any "smahta," that that's just the smartasses talking out their asses." And they hate experts and smartass know-it-all assholes above all things (except, maybe, boredom).
Mask-wearing alone, though essential, will not stop the pandemic. It has to be part of a comprehensive plan, and it has to be proven in the laboratory as effective. But, even in a detail as obvious as this, there is no plan. Anyone can make and sell a mask.
This weekend our theme is for songs about up and down, stopping, going and even crashing...as Trump has done to the economy and our democracy...and is finally catching up to him in 94 days.
There is one single most important moment in the life of an epidemic, it is when virality is achieved. They should have known that they only had a few months to prepare.
As a way to remember Trump's inability to remember (or be competent), this weekend's music thread has five themes, each being one of the five words he struggled to repeat: Person, woman, man, camera, tv. For extra credit, try and post one song connected to each word.
You're invited to join us for our weekly live chat tonight (and every Friday night), Vox Populi! It starts at 7:00pm PDT. Hope to see you then!
The evil, soulless wight in the White House has made The People his enemy. He called this fight because he hates all humanity; and in the end, all humanity will hate him.
Why is the president allowed to use his immense public power to attack private individuals out of infantile spite? Have we dispensed with the law altogether?
This weekend's music thread is dedicated to an irreplaceable and historic hero of justice, equality and humanity by the name of The Honorable John Lewis. Songs about civil rights, protest, equality, peace, and unity are all invited and welcome.
China knew. China told the Administration. We the People knew nothing until our lungs refused to breathe! Until our beds were covered in blood. Until every breath was a reprieve, that you knew could be your last. That this plague is a slow execution. That it is hell.