The Passing Parade: Cheap Shots from a Drive By Mind

"...difficile est saturam non scribere. Nam quis iniquae tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus, ut teneat se..." " is hard not to write Satire. For who is so tolerant of the unjust City, so steeled, that he can restrain himself... Juvenal, The Satires (1.30-32)

Sunday, June 07, 2020

Just thinking

So I am sitting here at the coffeehouse at the end of our happy little burg's main street listening to a group of young women in very short shorts--they all have very nice legs, although I realize that it is sexist to notice such things, even at my age--and they are talking about the advantages of various academic degrees and how they can impact one's future earnings. They are all drinking coffee and are very happy with each other's company, as small birds hop around the brick floor of  the outside patio eating the crumbs of various kinds of pastries left behind by the customers. Could the young woman who is planning to become a lawyer help these birds sue this coffeehouse for giving them diabetes, I wonder? Or should these birds just stop eating the crumbs? Again, I wonder.

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Thursday, May 14, 2020

Just saying...

Maybe it's just me, but I am growing tired of the whole damn world acting as if we were all still in the third grade and trying to stay away from the kid with the cooties. We are being ridiculous here, people.

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Thursday, March 05, 2020

Squirrel hunting in Washington

Hi Chuck, I'm Brett and this here’s my pal, Neil, and we just come back from the woods out there in Maryland where we was a-shootin' them damn squirrels morning, noon, and night, and we want you to know that we heard your speech the other day and we thought it was a humdinger, you betcha! Why, I don't think I ever heard such a good speech before, no sirree Bob! The thing of it is, though, Chuck, me and Neil was wondering about this here price you was saying we was gonna have to pay. Now, we cracked out our copies of the Constitution and checked up on Article III (the three iii's, well, that's them ancient Romans' way of saying 3, which is understandable, not like V being their way of saying five. Nothing about a V says five to me, but I may just be missing something here) and right there in Article III it says that we get keep our jobs just so long as we behave ourselves and don't get drunk on a Saturday night and go shooting out the lights in front of the Capitol. It'll be a bit of a strain, but I think we can manage that. There ain’t hardly no point to wasting ammunition like that, anyways. So we're not too worried about the price we'll have to pay for getting crossways of you. After all, Chuck, we're both younger than you and we will, in all probability, still have a job here in Washington when you are dead and gone. Remember, Chuckles, we don't gotta run for nothing no more. So, we’ll be seeing you around and, just remember, stay away from them there squirrels!

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Monday, January 27, 2020

No clue where I was going with this...

There is no credible evidence that William Shakespeare could speak Polish. There is also no credible evidence that William Shakespeare ever ate an avocado. The first statement is a fact so commonplace that no philosopher has ever given the proposition a second thought. In the second statement, however, the committed student of philosophy will find the key to understanding the place and destiny of humanity in a universe wholly bereft of evidence that William Shakespeare ever ate an avocado. A suffering humanity demands, and by humanity I mean this planet’s extant population of the species Homo sapiens sapiens and not some other group of hominids like Neanderthals, Cro-Magnons, and life insurance salesmen, that this attempt to write the avocado out of the Shakespearean canon should cease immediately, or at least be put on hold until world peace is achieved or the Yankees get to the World Series, whichever comes first. This prejudice against native North American fruits is contemptible and has no place in any modern society. There is, after all, no evidence that William Shakespeare ever ate a banana either and no one says a thing about that, do they?

I was going to add something important here, but I have forgotten what it might me. Now, I will freely concede that if the important point I was going to make here was as important as I thought it was three minutes ago then I would not have forgotten what it was, but I am growing old and weary in my service to the people of our happy little burg and every so often some great immutable truth slips out the back door of my mind and heads off to Vegas with an eighteen year old blond waitress named Tiffany. What can you do, it happens, right?

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Sunday, December 08, 2019

Just saying

You know, if Charlton Heston had come down from Mount Sinai with the Ten Commandments inscribed on a blue rubber chicken, the history of the world would be entirely different.

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Thursday, October 24, 2019


A gaggle of Republican Congressmen (what is the proper collective noun for a member of Congress, I wonder? A congress of Congressmen seems redundant, whereas a murder of Congressmen seems more than a little hostile, but that’s just my opinion) forced their way into the super-secret classified room in which the Impeachment Inquisition is holding its demonic rites and demanded that the proceedings be made open to the public, among other important things—they did order pizza, for example, and ordering pizza is always a very important thing, although there is no record of who ordered the slice with the anchovies and pineapple; clearly some distinguished gentlemen  from a state somewhere west of the Mississippi River who doesn't know any better.  The Grand Inquisitor, Mr. Schiff of California, a man who could not inspire terror in a lame housefly even when holding a can of Raid and a sawed-off shotgun, promptly closed down the testimony of some spavined State Department bureaucrat muttering about how the Ukraine girls really knock him out, and demanded that the Republicans leave the West behind.  Tempers flared again today when the Impeachment Inquisition announced that the Republicans had, horror of horrors, actually used their cellphones and other personal electronic devices while in the super-secret classified room eating their pizza. The Democratic Party’s sudden devotion to the procedures for handling classified materials and areas is welcome, albeit slightly suspect; I do not recall this devotion to the letter of the law when Mrs. Clinton was letting a plethora of classified cats out of the bag with her personal email server, but perhaps my memory fails me. In any case, the Democrats’ screeching about the violation of their sanctum sanctorum is a little hard to take seriously. The whines emanating from Capitol Hill about the violation of security protocols frankly remind me of a drug dealer complaining that the cops ignored the Keep Off The Grass sign in his yard on their way into his house.

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Friday, September 20, 2019


Mayor Bill De Blasio of New York has ended his bid for the Democratic Party's 2020 nomination for President of the United States. This has caused next to no consternation at all among millions of people who did not know he was running for the Democratic Party's 2020 nomination for President of the United States, that he was (and still is) the Mayor of the City of New York, or that he is a tall man who likes to drive to Brooklyn to go to the gym. In short, he is the political equivalent of William Hughes Mearns' man who wasn't there.

Yesterday, upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there
He wasn't there again today
I wish, I wish he'd go away...

When I came home last night at three
The man was waiting there for me
But when I looked around the hall
I couldn't see him there at all!

Go away, go away, don't you come back any more!
Go away, go away, and please don't slam the door... (slam!)

Last night I saw upon the stair
A little man who wasn't there
He wasn't there again today
Oh, how I wish he'd go away...

Enough said.

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