It finally happened; another word made the list of my personal, verbal equivalents to nails on a chalkboard.
It’s a lurking word I’ve noticed inching its way into the everyday Jargonitis of election politics: Conversation.
"Conversation" is the buzzword to be wary of for crafty answer dodging for 2020 campaigns.
The good news is, that’s already obvious.
Don’t get me wrong, communication is key component to building a civilized society, especially a connected one.
I take issue with politicians who refuse to take a stance - for whatever reason. I would never vote for someone waiting for polls to tell them how to think.
When it comes to elections, it no longer matters what candidates say. They’ve had decades to figure out where they stand.
What matters is what they have done and continue to do.
Actions matter more than anything.
Want a conversation? Start a book club.
“Conversations” don’t need to be brought to Washington.
If a politician hasn’t developed an opinion beyond dinner table discussions, they have no business running for president.
That's not to say they have no business in public service. It's just they're not ready for the highest office of the land.
Birds of a Feather
Everyday on my dog walk, I see all kinds of waterfowl. Of course they were going to make it into my stories at some point.
Today’s political scenario – this level of synchronicity between the media, our government’s behavior, and public reactions – appears categorically unnatural.
Motives can yank anything natural from everything. Let’s see where you stand.
The Cautious Goose Lacks Backbone
Nobody needs a new job title to take a stance.
Today, the same, (and more dangerous), tools are used to uproot political discourse amongst all of us since we were born: Political platforms. Both would have us believe we’re all fucked up.
20 years ago, Columbine happened and we’re still talking about guns. Somehow, sexuality is an issue and the Supreme Court is close to weighing in on whether or not I can be terminated for being me.
Abortion, religion, marriage, love, war, and Jesus are still arguments, and women still only make $0.70 to every man’s dollar, another statistic that appears unchanged from 20 years ago.
In the past 20 years, the Electoral College flipped the popular choice for POTUS results – twice!
What are the odds?
Naturally? Zero. Unnaturally? 100%
The only thing that hasn’t happened, God forbid, is another 9/11. September 11, 2001 will be 18 this year. It’s almost 20.
20 years ago, the Berlin Wall stood in history.
Today, we live in a country declared national emergency over funding of a wall.
The Careless Goose Lacks Heart
The presidential field is filled with fodder. I’m trying not to be too critical as there are other ongoing things from which we’re being distracted, so I’ll stick to the main careless goose: Donald Trump.
Trump was elected when Obama was president.
We can’t blame Trump on Trump. Trump happened as a result of something. A lot of somethings. Ever since the 2016 election, it’s been a turmoil spill.
The man who is responsible for “grab ’em by the pussy” in our vernacular is POTUS.
"Never in a million years..."
Welcome to year 1,000,001.
We've got a clean up on all aisles. All staff report for duty.
Pick a poison: Impeachment, resignation, wait, or Civil War? We know where Trump stands.
Our president reminded us how much of a fan he is of General Lee with his most recent defense of his “very fine people on both sides” Charlottesville, VA blunder.
Bill Clinton was impeached 20 years ago. By the same standards, Donald Trump would already be gone.
Before that, though, President Trump must face the music or we’re doomed to repeat something even more unsavory.
If only the Mueller Report would change it's name to either the Benghazi Report or the Starr Report. What would republicans do then? Wait, that already happened.
The Criminal Goose Goes to Jail
Hanging somewhere over us is the truth. It’s been captured. Rest assured things never end well for the criminal.
The challenge about truth is finding it. Once it’s found, it’s better to be on the right side of it, or figure out a way there.
Someone already nailed someone to that cross.
There is such a thing as too little too late.
Karma’s planning her own party. It’s no sweat off her back if she’s late. The last thing she wants to do is disappoint her guests.
The Courageous Goose Doesn’t Give a Duck
The only way out of this mess is to let the mess out of my mind.
The Ill Eagles
America doesn’t soar without Americans soaring.
Would you fly under Trump’s wing in a V formation? Do you trust the lift of the upwash from the wingtip vortices of that HBIC (head bird in charge)?
If anything he's making it harder to fly in this country.
Donald Trump never intended to win the presidency. His entire transition debacle made that evident. That, and his complete inability to keep his most senior positions filled.
It’s been a cascading turmoil slick ever since.
The President is too divisive of a figure at present time.
Plus, I can't imagine there isn't other shit he'd rather be doing.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up resigning. Any advisor to him who’s worth the dirt they walk on would encourage resignation this point.
I’ll be more surprised when this charade ends.
The shark tank smelled fishy before, but now it includes the added downgrade aroma of "carcass rotting in a swamp", which is ultimately what grabbed my pattention.
If it were up to me, this would have been over years ago. But, it’s not. Oh well.
The sooner we rid him from our marred democracy, the better off the country will be.
Originally posted September 1, 2017. Hurricane Irma directly hit St. John on September 6, 2017. Irma was deemed a Cat5 hurricane only because Cat6 didn't (and still doesn't) exist.
Last we heard about the iguana, he’d taken a leap off the ledge of a villa’s porch on St. John.
Have You Ever Felt Like a Baby Iguana? Pt. 2
I only know what’s happened to me since I left the island.
Did the iguana survive Hurricane Irma?
I can't imagine he didn't.
Granted, it was only a month and a half after the encounter that Hurricane Irma annihilated St. John. But, if anything would survive a direct hit along a hurricane’s path, it would be an iguana.
This is the stuff of Survivor!
That’s the stuff iguanas evolve to withstand.
I spent 21 more days on St. John. On my feet.
I returned to Arizona mid-August of 2017. I felt my time on the island was up. My soul was rejuvenated and I was ready to get home and write. I left in the nick of time.
I didn't understand until later exactly how just in time my departure was.
A few weeks before the iguana encounter, the island of St. John was in full swing Independence Day celebration. It was, in some ways an end of season shebang. The locals were excited as the vacation destination’s vacation waslooming.
The picture below – of the jeep – was taken by me on July 4, 2017 on St. John at the island’s Independence Day parade.
I was living on St. John during the most memorable and impactful summer of my life.
What happened next rocked the worlds of everyone I’d just met.
Sometime after the unreported international border and customs scandal between the US and British Virgin islands, a succession of storms were brewing, literally. Secrets, secrets...
Along Came Irma
Now this? Life finally caught up with reality.
One of a host of Harbingers as of recent history.
Circle Back to Something Great
Two years ago today, I’d yet to embark on my trip to St. John. It seems appropriate to write a follow up to the original iguana story.
It’s been, after all, nearly two years since he took a leap off the proverbial cliff.
Reading the words I write is a bit like eavesdropping on the conversations I have with my imaginary friends. Except, here I am, handing you the recordings. Optimism. It's cute, isn't it?
A Part of My Soul Stayed on St. John
St. John changed my outlook on life. The people there, that summer restored my faith in humanity. I never felt more home away from home.
Ghosts and spirits are ever present on St. John. I met a lot of people there. Shadows play a funky role in your imagination.
I chose to roll with it.
The shadows played tricks on my eyes, so I had no choice but to see.
Iguana Piece of Me
I caught glimpses of them in the corners of my eyes.
You’re out there somewhere, lurking in the shadows. Don’t stay in those.
I don’t think the iguana from the first story even realizes who he is. All I know for sure is it was a bright, brilliant green and very young.
For the friends I met, three weeks later, St. John was in a much different place. Much like the iguana among them, they landed on their feet, stood still for a minute, and analyzed the situation. They persevered.
St. John survived.
The love for that island proved gravitational. The locals rose to the call of their one love, Love City.
They taught me about getting to the top the right way.
The Write Way to the Top
They taught me what it meant to follow your dreams. I learned what taking risks was all about. It becomes fun when you begin to question everything.
Then it snowballs. Writing is easy when you’ve got nothing to prove.
However, much like Irma, there are powers well at work way above anyone's ability to control, much less sense.
Hunker Down and Pray for Daylight
Listen up, folks. There are too many hypocrisies laying around to count. It’s time to see it for what it is, it’s hypocrisy. It’s never ok.
How long before we realize that’s what this is all about?
Astounding and Too Convenient
Our sitting president has been on record disrespecting women left and right, but Joe Biden gets a pass for pleading ignorant? What Pelosi? No Pelosi.
What Pelosi should have said is "nobody from the past should be elected, and we need to hold leaders to a higher standard. Otherwise we're doomed to repeat history, which would be great because I'm getting paid to do this."
And we act surprised when the past repeats itself. We quickly forget that Biden was part of the administration that led to Trump. Way to hit that Trump reset button for 2024.
Has anyone announced for 2028 yet? Talk about prime political real estate.
Washington stalwarts. They’re like fucking barnacles. Old, crusty barnacles.
Not So Green Anymore
Do I miss any past president? No.
Every last one of them has to do with the paved road that led to Trump. All while trying to pave it for Hillary. Whoops, backfired.
What happened, Obama?
We can’t change our old ways with the old players on the field. Want election reform? How about this? Reform the politicians.
Any official in an elected office before Trump was elected President of the United States, should never run for political office again.
If you currently hold office and have held an elected position in Washington D.C. longer than Trump, you’re the problem.
That goes for both sides.
You’ve always been and will always be a problem. You’re (at least part of) the reason why we’re in the mess we’re in.
You’re part of the machine that made Trump possible. Then he won.
Yes, good people can be problems too. They only worsen once their intent far surpasses their ability to deliver, and their story only becomes more painful.
A true public servant offers themselves up for the people without collecting a tax payer funded salary.
An honest public servant can take a step back and realize they hit the iceberg years ago.
I can buy rose colored glasses. Empty words add no color.
The question is, can you solve the problem you’re in before it’s too late?
If you want change, then change.
Take Us To Your Leader
Wait, screw the leaders. Take me to your people. Let’s be real for a second. We are so much more than our leaders.
We are the ones our leaders strive to be.
I Woke Up
What? It was only April Fools Day yesterday. Late, as usual.
What the hell is going on in this country? I’ll tell you. A bunch of bullshit.
The 2020 narrative is a 1974 scandal coupled with an upside down list of 2016 contenders. This time it’s heavy on the D side.
The 2016 election was nothing more than a recycled 1992 ballot with the popular vote winner ultimately losing.
The only difference worth noting is that Florida decided the 2000 winner.
Never Say Never
What’s wrong with this picture?
If this doesn’t make you nervous, you forgot to never forget.
How do you prevent history from repeating itself?
Stop repeating it. Don't taunt the enemy. Stop inciting violence. Treat people equally. Unite Americans. Honor the Constitution. Fund education. Lead by example. Speak the truth. Solve problems. Stop being dicks. Understand your position, and the power of words.
Brad Nicolaisen and I had nothing to do with this fucked up charade.
We’re just two gay citizens of the United States, and our lives have been shredded. Certain rights and civil liberties are out of our reach.
I'm 15% Native American. My grandmother was born on a reservation in North Dakota. She met my grandfather in the military in Virginia. He was born and raised in Alaska.They were married and had their first child in Virginia, then returned to Alaska.
I’ve explained pieces of the puzzle in past stories, but I’ve only scratched the surface.
It gets significantly worse, and the flood will come.
Jesus, Take the Narrative
Announcing 2020 candidacy today is like eating ice cream for breakfast, lunch, dinner and washing your hair with toothpaste. It doesn’t make sense.