Lusting in the Heart vs. The Cult of Personality

The conservative right in this country has officially gone completely to the dark side, abandoning even the pretense of the traditional family values they spent decades preaching. It did not happen overnight, but the evolution from self-righteous moral police to absolute, shameless hypocrisy is undeniable. To understand exactly how deep this rot goes, you only have to look at three specific moments in modern political history that show when and how it all happened.

Rules for Thee, Freedom for Me: The Deep Hypocrisy of the Modern Right

There is a distinct psychological mechanism running the modern American hard right, and it is a textbook case of psychological projection. The formula is as predictable as it is shameless: whatever structural corruption, ethical rot, or lawless behavior ultra-conservative leaders are actively committing—or planning to commit—they immediately accuse their political opponents of doing first. It creates a chaotic smoke screen, ensuring that by the time their own scandals come to light, the public is too exhausted by the non-stop noise to notice. But when you strip away the flags, the slogans, and the manufactured outrage, the reality becomes undeniable. The MAGA movement has systemically transformed the very grievances they spent a decade fundraising on into their actual policy blueprint.

Mean Girls, You've Got To Be Kind!

I was at Walmart one day and there was a guy sitting on a bench at the front near the registers. He was very obviously profoundly developmentally disabled, completely in his own world, and just having an absolute blast. I can't remember exactly what he was doing, but he was making a fair bit of noise, maybe listening to music because he was singing and chair dancing right there. 

Then these three teenage girls walked by. They were about 16, really pretty, fashionably dressed, the total cheerleader popular mean girl types. They noticed him and immediately started laughing and pointing, mimicking him and just being incredibly mean about it. 

Timothy Busfield and Being A Predator

This may or may not be an unpopular opinion.

But I believed Timothy Busfield at first. I don't know why, I just did.

Then more and more allegations came out. And we all know predation is a pattern of behavior, it's not generally a one-time thing, and he is KNOWN to have settled at least one accusation case for an undisclosed amount.

The only weird thing is that the other accusers were all women, all close to or over than 18. These new ones are twin boys, who were apparently age seven at the beginning. 

I am not going to convict anybody without hearing all the evidence, but it sure doesn't look good.

I feel awful for his poor heartbroken wife.  But if the evidence proves he did it, he needs to go to prison.

Auntie Elfi's Fables: The Schoolyard Bully

As the days stretched on, the bright colors of the playground seemed to fade under the shadow of the big kids’ rules. They didn’t just play on the slide; they decided how fast you were allowed to go down, and you had to pay them a polished pebble for the privilege. They set up "sandbox shifts," where anyone from the far side of the woods could only dig for a minute at a time. The seesaw was declared "out of order" indefinitely, though everyone saw the big kids using it as a private bench to plot their next move.

Yet, a strange thing happened. The "lousy babies," as the big kids called them, didn't break. In fact, the harder the bullies pushed, the tighter the others held together. They didn't shout back; they fought with a quiet, polite resistance that drove the big kids toward madness.

When they were told they couldn't use the swings, they simply stood in a long, calm line, waiting with patient smiles that suggested they had all the time in the world. When the sandbox whistle blew, they handed over their shovels with a kindness that felt like a challenge. They weren't looking for a fight; they just wanted to be treated decently. That simple, immovable demand made them impossible to defeat. 

Eventually, the big kids began to wear themselves out with their own anger. They gritted their teeth every day, forced to allow those "lousy babies" to move about the playground without fear. It burned them to see the smaller kids sharing the equipment fairly, ignoring the big kids’ self-appointed authority as if it were nothing more than a passing breeze. And fairly meant that they gave the big kids fair turns at games and swings, because the other kids were Decent human beings who did not commit the sin of "Treating people like things."

The bullies watched from the sidelines, fuming because there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. The more they tried to grab the ball and go home, the more they realized the other kids had learned to play their own games without needing that ball at all. The playground didn't belong to the loudest anymore; it belonged to everyone.

Okay, you've read it. Now swap the words Republican and school yard bully/ies. And Other/Little kids and Liberals/Democrats. Now reread it.

Kinda makes ya think, huh?

The Bustiers and Bullshit of the Far Right

The "Freedom for Me, but Not for Thee" crowd is at it again, and the irony is thick enough to choke a horse. Conservative Americans love to wrap themselves in the flag and scream about liberty from the rooftops, but that liberty apparently comes with a "Members Only" sign.

They want the freedom to stockpile enough firepower to arm a small nation, the freedom to vote by mail while simultaneously trying to dismantle the post office for everyone else, and the freedom to indulge in whatever private kinks they fancy behind closed doors. We see the hypocrisy in real-time: a certain president casts his own ballot from the comfort of a gold-plated mailbox while he and his followers scream that mail-in voting is a scam.

If Bryon Noem wants to spend his weekends in a bustier and heels, that’s between him, his mirror, and POSSIBLY his wife, though an argument could be made that it's only her business if he decides that's okay.

David Gerrold says I am a screechweasel :)

He also lies. Says I blocked him, when, in fact, I only unfriended him. HE is the one who did the blocking.

Would somebody who hasn't left his feed point him to my last two blog posts? 

Looks like I totes got into his skull. 🙂

I did not call him a transphobe. I called him a transphobe LOVER, because he believes its okay to hand your money and time to that transphobic cunt, Rowling.

And we proceed:

The Myth of the Neutral Platform

In her own hateful words

There is a common misconception that providing a stage for extremist viewpoints is an act of "objective journalism" or "free speech advocacy." However, when you give a KKK leader, a Nazi, or a bigot a microphone, you aren't just observing them; you are participating in their expansion.

Fuck YOU, David Gerrold

Let me make this infinitely clear.

I have three kids, Lis, Ian, and Ava. They are my pride and my joy. I support them in their identities, their lives, their very beings.

Two of my kids are transgender. I am their number one ally. I will go to the mats against anybody who wants to tell me my kids are mentally ill for that, or that they are the gender that they were assigned at birth, or that they should be forced to use a room full of urinals instead of toilets, or any person who SUPPORTS somebody with those fucking ideas in their head (David Gerrold, I am looking at YOU, motherfucker!)

“If This Goes On—”: A Side-by-Side Look at Heinlein’s Warning and the United States Today

I've been working steadily on this article since mid-January. It has been harrowing, absolutely frightening, and just a little bit too close to reality these days for me..

I just reread Robert Heinlein’s “If This Goes On—” for the umpteenth time, and I can’t stop thinking about how quiet it is. Not the writing itself, but the way the collapse happens. No sirens. No big moment where everyone agrees something has gone wrong. Just a series of choices that all seem defensible at the time. That’s what got under my skin.

When Democracy Requires More Than Words

Democracy doesn't collapse in a single moment. It erodes gradually, through delay, complacency, and the comforting illusion that someone else will intervene before lasting damage is done. By the time the threat feels undeniable, the tools meant to stop it are often weakened or already gone.

This is the danger of treating civic engagement as symbolic rather than functional. Voting, representation, and institutional balance are not gestures of identity or expressions of mood. They are mechanisms. When those mechanisms fail to operate as designed, democratic systems lose their ability to correct abuse, enforce accountability, and restrain the concentration of power.

I'll just leave this here...

 

A Scorched Earth Wake Up Call - Impeach Trump Now

There comes a point where outrage stops being a reaction and becomes a survival instinct. We passed that point years ago. We're living under a man who treats war like a toy. Iran, Venezuela, anywhere he can point a finger and pretend he's a strongman. It's reckless. It's cruel. It's the behavior of someone who should never have been allowed near power.

And here's what breaks me. Here's what turns anger into something volcanic. The deaths of girls in US bombings. My claim is simple. One hundred seventy five girls. Gone. Wiped out by the kind of military action Trump treats like a flex. Children who never had a chance. Families who will never recover. Futures erased because someone in Washington wanted to look tough on television.

Let Them Eat Cake? Or Should They Eat The Rich?

A conversation snippet with my friend Gale inspired me to do some quick research and write up my thoughts about the super rich. Here we go:

Insurance SUCKS, Free Luigi!

I did SO much today

First I dealt with health insurance for several hours, found out that no, they DON'T cover my online psych care like they said they do before I switched to them (it's United Healthcare. Luigi did a GOOD fucking thing, and I wanna put money on his fucking jailhouse commissary account!). So after about four hours dealing with them I said: "Ya know, take your UHC bullshit and get royally fucked, okay? I'm going back to Molina SOONEST, motherfuckers!" And yes, I DID swear a blue streak. Then I hung up, and I miss the old fucking phones you could slam down in anger. Jesus, the things we miss.

Called 211, switched back to Molina which is effective April 1. My psychiatrist sent my scrips in even though he didn't get paid for that. Don't think I need any refills on body meds until next month, but we'll see. I am covered under United Hell Care for the month of March, so my meds should be covered...

SCOTUS Overturns Trump’s Tariffs and Trump Loses His Mind About It

SCOTUS finally did what everyone with a functioning frontal lobe knew was coming. They looked at Trump’s tariff stunt, checked it against the Constitution, and said no. Not maybe. Not sort of. Not later. Just fucking NO!

According to the reporting, the ruling was simple. A president does not get to rewrite trade law because he feels like playing Tough Motherfucker. Congress did not authorize the kind of free for all Trump tried to pull. The Court reminded everyone that presidential power has fucking limits. That is their goddam job. That is the whole point of the fucking judiciary.

And Trump reacted exactly how he always reacts when someone refuses to kiss the friggin' ring...

Impeach and CONVICT Trump NOW!

 

There is a point where a country either wakes up or sleepwalks straight off a cliff. People keep acting like this is just another news cycle, another round of political noise,or another thing to scroll past on the way to cat videos and dinner plans. But this isn't background static. This is the fire alarm blaring at full volume while half the country pretends it's a ringtone. We're living inside an emergency, and the refusal to name it is part of the emergency.

Because this is not about one moment, one headline, or one outrageous quote. It's an accumulation, a pattern, the relentless grinding erosion of guardrails and basic expectations of leadership. Every time something crosses a line, the line gets redrawn a little further out, and people shrug a little harder, and the whole thing becomes a little more normal and accepted...

How the FUCK Are MAGA Followers Still Worshipping This Guy?

 

At this point, trying to understand MAGA loyalty feels like trying to explain why a goddam raccoon keeps coming back to the same dumpster fire. You’d think eventually the smell of burning garbage and shit would register. But no, they’re still there, still digging, still convinced they’ve found treasure while the rest of us are fucking gagging.

Because honestly, how in fuck do you keep supporting someone after everything that’s come out? We’re talking about a man with multiple criminal convictions, a man who’s been at the center of more lawsuits than a defective chainsaw company, a man who is all over the Epstein files (and probably guilty of pedophilia), a man whose public behavior would get any normal person fired, shunned, or at least politely escorted out of the building. But not him. No, he’s their golden calf with a spray tan and a microphone...

Time for a living wage, dammit!

On July 24, 2009 the federal minimum wage was elevated by congress, raising the rate to $7.25 per hour. This remains the current federal minimum as of early 2026. This is the longest period in U.S. history without a congressional update. This is egregious neglect and abuse of the workers and needs to be addressed.

Key details regarding the federal minimum wage:

* Duration: The $7.25 rate has been in place for over 16 years.

* Purchasing Power: The value of the minimum wage has declined significantly due to inflation, losing roughly 30% or more of its purchasing power since 2009.

* State vs. Federal: While the federal rate is stagnant, many states have implemented higher minimum wages. 

(The previous bullet list was pasted from Google.)

Texas, however does not give a hot fuck. Minimum wage here and in 19 other states is $7.25. And in Texas, if you're a tipped worker, such as a waitress or waiter, you get a whopping $2.13 an hour.

To put that into perspective, in 1982, FORTY-FOUR years ago, I was hired for my first job, waitressing in Massachusetts, where the tipped wage was $2.10 per hour. And it was not enough to live well or comfortably on. Things have NOT improved since then.

Three cents an hour. That's how much more per hour this fucked up state is paying its tipped workers in 2026 than I earned in 1982.

LIVING WAGE NOW, MOTHERFUCKERS!

Poem: Flood The Streets

They thought we’d stay quiet.  

They thought we’d scroll past.  

But we showed up with boots, signs, and middle fingers raised.  

We flooded the streets like a goddamn tidal wave.  

Every chant a curse. Every step a threat.  

We’re not asking. We’re demanding.  

And we’re not leaving till the bastards sweat.

You built your empire on silence and spin.  

On cages, on lies, on blood-soaked grin.  

But we cracked the concrete with our rage.  

We tore your speeches into confetti.  

We pissed on your podium.  

We screamed truth so loud it shattered your glass.

This is not a protest.  

This is a reckoning.  

This is every ignored voice turned into a fucking war drum.  

This is the sound of your power dying.  

This is the sound of us 

Unapologetic, unfiltered, unrelenting.

We don’t want your reforms.  

We want your resignation.  

We want your trials.  

We want your legacy burned down to ash.  

We want the history books to say:  

“They rose. They raged. They won.”

So keep your barricades.  

We’ll climb them.  

Keep your riot cops.  

We’ll outlast them.  

Keep your lies.  

We’ll drown them.  

Because we flood the streets.  

And we don’t fucking stop

Until you're dead and gone.