This afternoon, as I tried to corner my mind into one concise post, “State Representatives Justin Jones, Justin J. Pearson and Gloria Johnson — were facing expulsion from the [Tennessee] House, a dramatic act of political retribution” (New York Times). Jones, along with marchers driven to extremity in the face of obstinate denial, demanded law-makers reduce their gun-lobby-controlled agenda and do something, anything actually, other than offer up innocent citizens to the greed and profits of the weapons’ manufacturers. But, in all seriousness I really don’t want to write about guns in a country that is actually still debating the most basic gun control measures of any civilized country on the planet, like there are two sides to this? I also don’t want to write about the business man faced with 34 charges, all of which point to his sleazy dealings with women or country, anyone really, who stands in his power-mongering way. I did listen to Jonah Bromwich, a criminal justice correspondent for The Times, tell what it was like inside the courthouse as Mr. Trump was first brought in, and then charged, on The Daily podcast. The swagger, the bravado, and all the hype generally seen when this guy hits the pulpit minimized to two words, “Not Guilty.” The only words he uttered in court. Although he was warned by the judge to not rile people up with his harmful rhetoric, “to refrain from comments that incite violence or create civil unrest,” he was barely in the door at his Palm Beach playground when he did all of that. Ugh! This crazy crazy world has us all in knots and nightmares, in disputes over insanity and sanity, with a path that twists like Lombard Street. I’m done expounding words of obvious truth to airy illusion.
Nine Cent Girl 