Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Hopelessly helping

Sitting at the computer this afternoon, processing the latest Google iteration and cookies and privacy and the like and I had this question pop into my head:

Am I shaping this technology or is it shaping me?

And any honest person these days that is connected to the internet would have to say it's the latter. Mcluhan is sitting on a cloud chuckling somewhere. Oh wait, my phone is telling me that I have a notification. Maybe it is a like? I am having to fight a Pavlovian urge to spit.

I am starting to watch the excellent Amazon Prime series Electric Dreams.

Writers have created ten episodes loosely based on the work of the great Philip K. Dick.

I have watched three episodes so far. I think it is really well done. Some great cast members, so far Bryan Cranston, Anna Paquin, Terrence Howard and more. Look forward to a binge.

Oscar Aleman - Russian Lullaby


Time takes a cigarette

Fate hangs by a tender thread

I was chatting with my friend Isak Lindenauer this afternoon. He had posted a wonderful picture of the original Van Erp studio in Leeuwarden, Holland on his most excellent website.

Isak is a person I have immense respect for, on many levels. Incredibly bright fellow. A great poet, a literary talent I have little or no facility in.

A man who loves the material he is selling and who actually furthered the scholarship of his corner of the decorative arts, publishing a monograph early in his career.

I was a sign painter for a time, and apprenticed to an old master who taught me the old way of doing things, endless repetition and practice, interrupted by periodic bouts with the speed bag. Les was ninety four when I started working with him and he had once been a boxer. I developed a love affair with letters and type, not to mention a decent jab.

I told Isak that I really fancied the type on this sign or font in the photograph, which seemed very much influenced by Vienna and the secessionists. He mentioned the Belgian artist Henry Van de Velde. I brought up the outstanding nouveau and deco architecture found in Hungary.

The teens must have been a glorious time to have been in Europe, at least in a decorative sense. The pre-raphaelites, mixed their ethos with the orientalists which bloomed into the glorious art nouveau movement. It was fully a flower. the prevailing patrician motifs, swept into the dustbin for new and fresh.

In England, Morris, Ruskin and Ashbee, dreading the coming factorization and industrialization of form and design, championed the arts and crafts movement and the creative work of the individual artist and small guild versus mass production. The movement borrowed from a variety of influences, 14th century dutch farmhouse, ecclesiastical, shaker among others, and tended to favor form and shape over embellishment, along with attention to fine detail and generally immaculate construction.

When Art Nouveau and arts and crafts eventually moved from England and France to Germany and Austria, the curved and sinewy lines straightened out and the right angle and grid became more predominate. Companies like WMF, Osiris and Orivit hired wonderful and creative designers and eventually gave birth to the secessionist movement and the Wiener Werkstatte and Jugendstil.

Lamp - Freidrich Adler circa 1901
Artists like Friedrich Adler, Kolomon Moser, Josef Hoffman, Behrens, Dagobert Pesce and Joe Maria Olbrich were on the front lines of this new modernism, which clearly broke with the design elements of the past.

Adler was my personal favorite. He could do anything, he worked as an artist, architect, fabric and paper designer, ceramist, metal artist and woodworker. His favorite design line was so severe it was shocking. And delightful. Like raw bones and muscle.

Unfortunately when he was deported to Auschwitz in 1942 he was deemed too old and quickly exterminated.

In time Nouveau gave way to deco when the earlier style got a bit too heavy and needed to be a little lighter on its feet. Moderne helped the people break out of their great and literal depression.

Anyway, now I really have digressed. But Isak brought up Belgium and how glorious it must of been and I thought about my family history and my grandfather Israel's personal story and my family connection to that place. Without Belgium I might not be alive. The dutch and flemish were much more hospitable at that point to our tribe than practically anyone else in Europe.

Some of you know about this stuff and many I am sure don't care about but this is one that I am going to repeat.

My grandparents grew up in a very difficult time. My grandfather Israel was born in Sierpc, Poland in 1899. His father Moishe Sommer was a veterinarian who moved to America two years later but returned after the San Francisco earthquake.

He had a rich cousin in the city, Sam, who supposedly bankrolled 20th Century Fox, but he wanted nothing to do with his poor European kin. Sam lived on California Street in San Francisco, had a hair products company. Felt embarrassed by their country cousins.

Moishe could not bring my great grandmother into this country with him because she had become addicted to morphine after a long hospitalization, a common occurrence back then. I believe that he worked on the kosher chicken farms in Petaluma before the earthquake sent him fleeing back to Poland.

My grandfather spent a portion of his young life smuggling morphine for his mother. When World War I broke out he was conscripted into the Russian army. Poland was betwixt and between sovereignty, the Germans and the Russians back then but at this point the Russians had control.

A conscription for a jew was a mandatory twenty year term, the most common conclusion was death. One day my grandfather, who was incredibly tough until his dying day, had the misfortune to endure a severe horse whipping by a Cossack officer. He reached for a bayonet and plunged it into the Cossacks chest, killing him instantly. A manhunt ensued but he fled across Germany and ended up in Antwerp. Without Belgium I might not have ever been alive.

Siemens telegraph - Brussels 1897
My grandfather enrolled in the Siemens Electrical Institute in Antwerp. The Belge d‘Electricité Siemens-Schuckert SA opened in Belgium in 1903. My grandfather graduated with a degree in Electrical Engineering.

Israel Sommer, later Kaitz, spoke seven or eight languages fluently; Russian, Polish, German, English, French, Hebrew, Ladino and Spanish.

He was brilliant, although tough as nails. He moved to Palestine in the mid 1920's with my grandmother Pessa and helped design and construct the nascent nation's first electrical grid and system. He was also instrumental in the founding of the Histadrut, the workers trade union.

I was an excellent chess player at one time. In his early eighties he beat me at the chess table like a drum. In any case he eventually got tired of Israel, or should I say Palestine, the oppressive religious aspects mostly, my male forebears a long line of non believers. He moved to this country with my thirteen year old father and eleven year old aunt in 1939, initially staying with some relatives in Detroit.

My late mother says that he killed a man in Israel. She called him the murderer. She made all sorts of crazy talk. I do not know if that was true, he certainly had the temper to do it. I know that when I started researching the family history in the late eighties, my aunt got very distraught, said some things were better off buried in time.

I don't think he was necessarily the nicest grandpa. My brother and sister lived with him for a time when he eventually moved back to Israel, watched him pull a man out of his car and beat him up in his seventies in a road rage incident. I don't think he cared a whit for his grandchildren. My earliest memories of him, he was sitting in his simple dining chair, wiry strong in a wife beater undershirt, eating green gage plums which he pared with a sharp knife.

He lived in South Pasadena for a while, had a furniture shop, my father proudly said that he was so careful he never made a second cut. Eventually he moved to Culver City. He had a turquoise fifty seven chevy. I never saw it go even fifty miles an hour, he was a notoriously slow driver.

I don't have much from him now, maybe an old broken watch, a passport, a lovely black and white photograph of the hills of Judah he took in the 1930's. Funny but it looks sort of like my work.

I guess purely on an existential basis, without him, there would be no me and for that I am grateful.

He was known as a man with a voracious sexual appetite. His infidelity actually caused my grandmother to take her own life in 1964.

When he was getting a required surgery well into his eighth decade, he inquired of the surgeon what affect the operation would have on his sex life? The doctor said, it shouldn't but what kind of sex life do you have, if I may ask? My beloved father heard it with his own ears, once a day, twice on Sundays...

Luckily he had remarried at this point, to a real saint. He is buried in Givatiyim, in Israel. My grandmother lays in San Diego.

What is the point of my reciting and sharing  my family history, especially such sordid history? Good question. I am not sure. I don't have children, nor will I.

My nieces and nephews may one day develop an interest on what brought them to their particular position in space and time and I might be one of the few people left to have ever researched the matter. I have created the tree and have collected all the necessary papers.

And I think it is important to think that whatever problems we all may think we have, they pale in contrast to what my grandparents and maybe your grandparents went through getting to this country when times were truly tough.  Can you imagine your mother an addict, having to become a smuggler, getting whipped by a cossack that you end up killing, having the unfortunate family that stayed in Poland all get exterminated...

How quickly the past is buried, how soon the present is obscured under a fine layer of silt.

Jenny Jenkins


Our buddy Nick came down and serenaded us at breakfast at the coffee shop with an impromptu mandolin concert. His studio is upstairs in the old Packing House building next door.

Nick, aka B.K. Nicholson,is an outstanding bluegrass player and frontman and lead vocalist for the excellent band Desperado as well as a band called High Mountain Road. Check the performances out on YouTube.

I really don't know Nick as well as I should. I know that he is originally from Philly and that he has an encyclopedic knowledge of football and music. Knows his bible too. Really good guy. Great player, great voice. Kind, with an easy laugh.

I put the old and fast 55mm 1.2 film lens on the Nikon yesterday and shot these portraits with it this morning.

It is funny, the pics look so good straight out of the camera that they don't want  to be altered in any way. Not perfect mind you, but good enough and they all seem to cry out "don't touch me." So I didn't.

Monday, September 24, 2018


Dreamt about this song last night. Had to post it.

Prison stripe pistachio

Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield of Ben and Jerry's fame want to raise money for underfunded progressive democratic congressional candidates, including Ammar Campa-Najjar in my 50th district.

They have proposed a personal ice cream flavor and a naming contest for the seven candidates they are backing. This campaign is being conducted in concert with Move-On.

Polls in the race with indicted incumbent Duncan Hunter are getting tighter. Neck and neck. The Congressman was in a courtroom today. Could be running the district from a prison cell one day.

Still it is a very conservative district.

I like Campa Najjar. Good interview with him in the Union Tribune. Young, smart, sharp. Moderate. He indicates that he wants to govern from the middle, a stance I applaud. His opponent's policies are anathema to all I hold dear and his infantile behavior, infidelity and constant partying has made him a mockery both here and in Washington.

Ben Cohen is coming to San Diego to campaign for the candidate at some point with his new flavor. Talk about putting your money where our mouths are.

Gentle Giant - Nothing At All

Rapist gets a pass

"The man told her that he wasn't really going to kill her, that he needed her to believe she was going to die so that he could be sexually fulfilled."

Justin Schneider
Have you read about the poor native girl up in Anchorage? Guy gave her a ride, drove her to a lake, strangled her and she woke up with the sick f*ck ejaculating in her face. What did the authorities do? Pretty much nothing, no jail time, credit for time served at home. He got a pass because losing his cush traffic controller job was bad enough, a "life sentence." Never apologized to the girl in his statement either. He assures the court he will be a better husband and father in the future.  Girl gets doubly victimized because she got in his car in the first place so she was deemed complicit, like she knew she was about to get strangled and molested? The f*ckwad Deputy District Attorney Andrew Grannik never even told the victim about the court date.
An Anchorage grand jury indicted Justin Schneider, 34, on four felony charges including kidnapping and assault, and one misdemeanor count of Harassment I--offensive contact with fluids -- for the August 2017 incident. 
Schneider struck a deal with the state, pleading guilty to a single felony assault charge in exchange for a sentence of two years with one suspended. Schneider faces no additional jail time. He received credit for time served while wearing an ankle monitor and living with his family.
Because there obviously is no law against strangling somebody and then ejaculating on her face. State said that sentence was consistent with the law. Shame on Grannik, shame on Judge Michael Corey, throw these bums out of office.


Now another story about a drunken Kavanaugh swinging his unit in a girl's face, and according to the NYT reporter, witnessed by several fellow Yalies.

I wasn't there, I don't know. But unless this guy is a victim of an incredible left wing conspiracy that reaches back to at least the first accuser's therapist in 2012 and maybe to girls she confided in during the eighties, Kavanaugh may be wrestling with a few personal demons. We will never know of course because no proper investigations will take place and no witnesses will be called.

She will get a fair and proper trial on Thursday and a hanging shortly thereafter.  The kangaroo court tribunal of old crusty white men will decide. Of course Heller, Graham, Mike Davis, Cornyn, Perdue, McConnell, Trump, they've already told you their minds are made up. Get ready for the evisceration.

Yesterday I read a Republican woman surmise that Ford had been interested in Kavanaugh and that her advances had been rebuffed, so she concocted some wild tale. Fifteen year old with quite the imagination. But you have to wonder why his best bro and admitted fellow debaucher Mike Judge won't take the stand?

I don't know who is lying. Somebody is. But isn't it interesting that if you are a conservative, she is and if you are a liberal, she is not? The lack of nuance and objectivity on both sides? The only person who has been honest about it is Feinstein. She said that she didn't know if Ford was telling the truth and was pilloried for it for harboring some doubt. She was going to wait for both parties to speak and assess their credibility in person.


It is no wonder that women are pissed off.

Got to travel on.

Above the Shoshone River
I don't post a lot of sunset shots, they're a little too easy.

But when I put one up on Google + it is usually like giving candy to a kid, people just eat them up.

I put this one on my blog because it looks like I may very well be in the Rockies very soon, a short, cheap wander through the promised land in search of mental health and visual booty. Have to remember to get the bear spray.

It is a tough time and there is never a good time and I was still wavering about what to do. Should I go or stay? Leslie and I threw the trusty i ching yesterday afternoon and I got back this changing line.

Leave, go out and far away. Sort of seals the deal. Pretty emphatic. I'm goneExpect pictures.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

Trio Céleste

I was privileged to attend a performance of the Trio Celeste at the library yesterday. They are the Chamber ensemble in residence at the Claire Trevor School of the Arts at UC Irvine. It was delightful although the acoustics in the room are not optimal for strings.

The show was put on by the Fallbrook Music Society, now in its 41st concert season. Bill Olson and his wife Meredith are sponsors and he was kind enough to tell me about the performance.

I was a pretty lousy third chair cellist in my youth but have always loved this music.

Yesterday they played Tchaikovsky's Piano Trio in A minor, Opus 50. Sort of funereal, the composer wrote it in honor of his late friend, the violinist Nikolai Rubinstein. It was followed by selections from Piazzolla's Four Seasons in Buenos Aires.

What knocked me out was the Dvorak piece they ended the show with, not sure of the title. All three instruments wove together so beautifully, it was a masterpiece.

Afterwards I bought a CD. They did a Beethoven piece, Constellations and asked 10 performers and composers to write alternate variations. These include Pierre Jalbert and Peter Erskine. Haven't listened yet.  Had a person walk up to me after the show and sniff, wondering if I was out looking for a little culture?

Could be.

Friday, September 21, 2018

Lewis & Clark

Diving back to the nest.


It's a weird thing. When I heard Richard Carpenter admit that he had been stoned on quaaludes for much of his latter career, I started to like him a little bit more. They were both consummate, musician's musicians. She took this Bonnie Bramlett song and truly made it her own. Incredible talent.

Heavens, no?

The bad news is that the Milky Way had been completely depleted by the time I got to Utah, Fortunately I ran into its much lesser known but nearby neighbor, the Creamy Way. The good news is there's less fat and half the calories.


There's no freaking way I ever move to a place named Cape Fear.

Cosmetic surgery used to be such a taboo subject. Now you can talk about Botox and nobody raises an eyebrow.

There is only what is and that's it. What should be is a dirty lie.
Lenny Bruce

Don't forget in any given situation, there will always be more stupid people around than smart ones.
Ken Kesey

All those chemicals that create empathy only work when you are in a room together. 
Gloria Steinem

If Kavanaugh is defrocked and somehow his nomination goes down in flames, I hope that he has a loving family that will help him heal and put it all back together.  Things will get better. Nothing in this entire world quite as sad as a preppy meltdown.

There is a real twilight zone aspect to the President being so concerned with ratings, his and everybody else's. The New York Times will have to support him or their ratings will fall, the NFL is failing because of the players lack of patriotism and their ratings are down, etc. Makes you wonder if he thinks this is all one big Truman Show. I would let the Times and NFL worry about their own business and we can continue to worry about his soap opera.

It is rather funny, not to mention ironic, that the President has been on a tear attacking the FBI and Justice Departments for their liberal perfidy. If it had not been for Comey's last minute disclosure and character assassination, we most probably would not have Trump leading our country. And this doesn't even take into effect that the great majority of the employees of said institutions are Republicans.

Walmart has indicated that the China tariffs will lead to price increases for their customers. Talk about a direct salvo on Trump's base. Maybe he can subsidize Walmart voters like he is doing with the farmers?

Crime and punishment

The President wants to know why a fifteen year old girl didn't got to the police or FBI thirty six years ago to report an alleged sexual assault by a seventeen year old boy.

Vox has an interesting graphic today from a 2014 study.

Over two thirds of sexual assault and rape claims go unreported, the highest rate for any criminal category. Could this be because the victims are often doubly victimized after reporting these craven acts? Of course the President doesn't think it was as bad as she says, because he has admitted to far worse. But I can imagine her hesitation, all of my clumsy gropes of adolescence, I never put my hand over a girl's mouth or scared anybody, as is alleged here.

The upcoming hearing should be a real dog and pony show or kabuki theater number. All scripted out, no corroborating witnesses allowed. Interesting that the lead counsel for the Senate Judiciary Committee, Mike Davis, is tweeting (since deleted) that Kavanaugh will be confirmed, as is McConnell. Could it be that this thing is in the bag already?

Why go through all the motions if the fix is already in?

Going down the road, feeling bad

Dickey Betts joins the Grateful Dead one hot summer's day at RFK Stadium in Washington D.C. and provides sweet, dulcet notes for your enjoyment and listening pleasure. 6-10-73

Too stoned to work?

Is the use of Cannabis contributing to the problem of illegal immigration in the United States? San Diego Union Tribune letter writer Ted Hilton seems to think so. He writes an impassioned letter this morning, titled Blame cannabis use for illegal immigration.

This is a new one I haven't heard before. Americans are too stoned to want to work and illegals are filling the slacker's jobs.

Ted throws around a lot of unsupported data about pot use, specifically regarding i.q. and cognition. The truth is that serious marijuana studies have been largely prohibited in this country but when they have taken place they show that the effects of marijuana use are largely benign. And, uh, I don't remember the rest.

The idea that THC use has caused legions of lazy stoners to shirk work, seek disability and worker's compensation and contributed to illegal immigration is pretty laughable and I think unfounded. And I will write more about it, just as soon as I finish this joint and stop watching the Dobey Gillis rerun for the umpteenth time.

The truth is that millions of Americans, of all ages, are using marijuana regularly for a variety of purposes, both medicinally and recreationally and managing to live very productive and normal lives. Might even be your next door neighbors, Ted?

You probably should check their trash cans and make sure that there are not an inordinate amount of empty haagen daz containers and cheesecake boxes. I understand that it is a sure sign that there are stoners next door.

Remain vigilant fighting against the green menace, Ted.

Wednesday, September 19, 2018


Neither an art dealer nor army can march on an empty stomach. Leslie and I just came back from an early dinner at Panca, the casual but excellent Peruvian restaurant in Oceanside. It was our third time at the establishment, Doug and Retha first took me there for lunch about five years ago.

I have been jonesing for their rotisserie chicken for some time. Hadn't been there since brother John was last in town. Some of the best roast chicken around although tonight's version did not quite equal the sublime perfection of our last visit.

1902 South Coast Hwy Oceanside, CA 92054

There is something about the South American flavor set I find so fresh, different and enchanting. Tonight Leslie had the half chicken with sweet potato fries and a delicious salad.

For my entree I had aji de gallina, shredded chicken in a cream sauce made with parmesan, yellow peppers, potatoes and pecans. This was served with a mound of moist rice with slices of boiled egg on top of the dish. Looks rather monochromatic but tasted colorful enough in my stomach.

So wonderful I slowed down my eating tempo considerably so that I had more time to savor every bite.  Of course we shared from each other's plates as well.

The more South American food I eat, the more I want to try. The piquant flavors have no corollary in our normal fare. My exposure has been admittedly pretty limited. When I worked in Beverly Hills many moons ago I frequented an excellent Argentinian place that had about thirty different empanadas. Loved the place. Later I tried Q'ero in Encinitas, a more formal and expensive Peruvian restaurant and remember being dazzled by their pork shoulder with aji amarillo.

I do eat a lot of Guatemalan food but that country is located in Central America, a little farther north. We recently ventured into Brazilian cuisine in Encinitas at Sabor de Vida which was quite good but not quite as delicious to my personal tastebuds as Panca. More beef oriented.

When I went to Houston I was smitten with Colombian food, but the empanadas were deep fried instead of baked and not nearly as good. But I loved the places I found, the food, alcohol, music, laughter and spirit. Very fun people those Colombians, not to mention very beautiful. I think there is only one Colombian dining place in San Diego and it is in a tough neighborhood down by Imperial Ave. Still need to check it out.

Panca now has a sister establishment called Tambo Cafe at the other end of the small strip center. They sell empanadas, sanguches, pasteles and desserts amongst other things over the counter. We left with a very tasty but expensive piece of key lime pie which we just now devoured. Check out their website, very fun. They specialize in serving the traditional Peruvian Lonche "too late for lunch, too early for dinner."

I recommend that you try Panca. I want to try to work my way through the whole menu, minus the guinea pig, of course. Next time I will probably go for the lamb stew or maybe the antichucos, tender pieces of beef heart marinated in Peruvian spices, skewered, and served with a side of Peruvian corn, Salsa Criolla and grilled potato.

Place is spartan but who cares?

Can't find a great posole around here. Well not like the great street posole I used to get in Oaxaca anyway, the clear "blanco" or "verde" versions with chicken or pork, hominy cabbage, chile and assorted spices including lots of Mexican oregano, cumin and coriander. I was actually introduced to the dish in the mid 1970's by a Guamanian man named Eddie Gomez whose wife now ex wife, made the best clear version.

Raymond told me to try Las Brisas. I went yesterday and it turns out they don't serve it there either. Aydees has a red version that is more of a stew and it just doesn't hit the perfect savory spot for me.

Hispanics love Las Brisas. When I did my twenty two Mexican restaurant review many years ago, it polled highest amongst many I knew. It just doesn't do it for me.

I am not a Las Brisas person. Or an Estrellas guy. I am a Rosa's man. Las Brisas has always had a funny smell, to my nose anyway. They brought me a basket with a few stale corn chips. I ordered the shredded beef tacos. They smelled too as did the spicy sauce. Everybody else was eating it up, just wasn't my thing. Tacos were gamey. I want shredded beef to be crispy, not pasty glop. Awful. Will be hard to go back.

I took the Steinbergs (or at least three of them) to Chili Coast Burgers in Vista for a char broiled chili the other night. Messy but good. Way too many fries. Washed it down with an icy cold root beer.

Times you got to live a little. Workingman's establishment, still my favorite North County burger. The thought of living life without an occasional half pound chili cheeseburger is almost unthinkable. Don picked up the check. Thanks.

People are hammering Chili Coast pretty hard on Yelp. I still think it is great, love their burgers, love their fries. Did have some serious indigestion, sign of a great burger experience.

Restaurant was started by a guy I did Kung Fu with decades ago, Ralph. Long gone, now on owner number three. They do a nice job.

Chili Coast Burger
1330 E Vista Way
Ste 1
Vista, CA 92084
(760) 726-1187

Trading Places


It's hard for me to imagine that it's hard for him to imagine. I mean, come on. You're a pro at this sort of thing, Mr. President.

I haven't exactly endeared myself to some of my more politically correct readers with my recent Kavanaugh take. Nor with my wife. You should have seen the look she shot me. Bam, I'm dead. Not going to exactly backtrack but excuse me if I use ever available square centimeter of wiggle room I need in the coming days.

I read and listen to mouthpieces of both the right and left, from Cal Thomas to Cal Worthington. And I thought that this Dennis Prager article raised a point worth considering, although the great majority of it was bullshit;
Those who claim the charges against Judge Kavanaugh by Christine Blasey Ford are important and worth investigating, and that they ultimately, if believed, invalidate his candidacy for the U.S. Supreme Court are stating that:
a) What a middle-aged adult did in high school is all we need to know to evaluate an individual's character -- even when his entire adult life has been impeccable.
b) No matter how good and moral a life one has led for 10, 20, 30, 40 or even 50 years, it is nullified by a sin committed as teenager.
I cherrypick this because it goes along with my initial take, that a clumsy, drunken, high school grope should not necessarily brand somebody for life. Because god knows, I am a sinner, lord.

I guess the thought of repentance or a statute of limitations in these types of matters ends when people seek high government office.

The fact that the accuser needed psychiatric counseling in 2012 for an event that allegedly occurred decades prior tells me that there may very well have been real malice and nastiness present. Something happened. Schoolmates from Holton Arms are now coming out of the woodwork declaring that they knew about the incident way back in the 1980's.

If I was a Republican, and I am not, I could see how this eleventh hour accusation by an avowed Bernie Sanders supporter could look a little bit staged and manipulative. Is she really this fragile?

Ditto the request to delay testimony until there is a FBI review. She seems to be teasing, demanding everything proceed on her own terms.

It seems contrived to throw a big wrench in the gears, maybe hold off on things until after the midterm elections if possible.

And after Merrick Garland, who really cares if this isn't exactly Marquis of Queensbury? McConnell wants a knife fight, he will get a knife fight.

Interesting interview with Hillary on Rachel Maddow last night. Maddow stated that Republicans were prepared to hold off on SCOTUS judicial confirmations for Hillary's full four year term if she had won. So all is fair in love and war.

I don't really care what a great guy he is, how much he loves his kids or their basketball team.

He has consistently been anti worker, anti environment, anti woman, unduly deferential to the executive branch and a most partisan ideologue.

And he has been accused of lying during his recent testimony at least three times, and not just the little white ones, more like receiving stolen documents and big lies like that.

Finally, his prep school shenanigans and cohorts remind me of the rotten kids from Scent of a woman or Animal House like Doug Neidermeyer. A ratship.

Entitled preppie bastards. So this is how they turn out?

Let the chips fall where they may. To the mattress rooms.