Democrats Trumped again!

ammo

THE DEMOCRATS’ endless effort to remove a duly elected president from office because they just don’t like him has flopped in its latest installment.

Impeachment reached a dead end today due to no evidence — just like the Democrats’ Russian collusion pipe dream. What will they invent next? Almost all of the politicians leading the removal hysteria hail from either New York or California.

Have you noticed that?

Did you see the State of the Union Address, perhaps the best in U.S. history? It was stirring and spectacular. If you missed it, here’s another opportunity.

Did you see the dour Democrats dressed in white like those Cuban “Ladies in White” who oppose their dictatorship? Did you see those Mohammedan Democrats playing with their cell phones? Did you see Nancy Pelosi tearing up her copy of Trump’s speech?

Were you appalled? It was appalling.

And it certainly won many more votes for Trump in November.

maga

Almost two months ago, I ordered a MAGA cap from a Chinese outfit on eBay. It arrived a few days ago.

But before then, my sharp Canadian reader who goes by the moniker Brent Morrow fulfilled my headgear dreams with this photo he emailed to me.

I look sharper in this one than in the cheesy version I purchased from China. Thanks, Brent!

As I’ve mentioned numerous times before, if you want accurate information about the Trump administration and its many accomplishments, the best place to get it is on the White House website. Scroll down to the bottom and sign up for White House updates.

You’ll receive excellent, accurate information.

A cold, waning day

IT’S 6 P.M., and cold in the house. I’m in flannel pajamas, a heavy coat, a snazzy scarf around my neck and a watch cap on my grizzled head.

There is nothing to be done. It’s late January, and we’ve actually been lucky so far. There were light freezes on two consecutive nights earlier this month, but it’s not dipped below 32º since. Other winters have been far worse. But some have been better.

I never weary of marveling at Mexican thought processes. Of course, it could be just my wacky relatives, not Mexicans in general, but I tend to project family nuttiness onto the nation as a whole.

Last week we enjoyed about three beautiful, consecutive, mild days, so my sister-in-law stated one afternoon with a straight face that she thought winter was over. My child bride agreed. A couple of nice days, and seasons are redefined for them.

I chuckled at the absurdity, and I’ve been proven right, not surprisingly. A few days ago, it got ugly, cold, and it even rained, which is not supposed to happen in January, not here anyway. It’s the dry season. Cold is one thing. Cold and wet is worse.

A few nights ago we watched a movie on Netflix titled The Bookshop which is set in England in the late 1950s. It stars two of my favorite actors, Bill Nighy and Emily Mortimer.

Ray Bradbury is mentioned repeatedly, and it occurred to me that I have never read anything by Ray Bradbury. I downloaded a Kindle sample of Death Is a Lonely Business, and it became clear why. He’s too cutesy and wordy for my taste.

Before coming home and slipping into the flannel pajamas, I was on the main plaza downtown with a café Americano negro and a raspberry muffin from a nearby pastry shop. I pulled out my Kindle and began the Lonely Business sample.

I couldn’t cut it. One of the many great things about Kindles is that one can order free book samples. Ray Bradbury will remain alien to me, and I don’t care.

Before writing this post, I opened the Gab social media website where I have an account. Gab is the free-speech alternative to Twitter. Leftists say it’s a white-supremacy website or alt-right, whatever that is, but it’s not, although you will find lunatics there. Most are not. One of the downsides of free speech is you have to let everyone speak.

The lunatics are easily blocked.

Big Tech has done everything imaginable to destroy Gab, including barring ways to financially contribute. Just recently, Gab found a way to accept credit cards again, and I used that route today to donate a small sum plus buy a Pepe the Frog sticker for my Honda.

pepe-the-frog-sticker-telegram-meme-frogIt is en route, Gab told me. I will have the only Pepe sticker on the mountaintop although in a field between here and the nearby capital city, there is a huge boulder that appears about eight feet high and wide, and it’s been painted to look like Pepe! I keep meaning to pull over and take a photo.

I briefly read Gab daily, rarely post anything but, amazingly, have over 1,000 followers. I do use Gab’s excellent and relatively new browser, Dissenter.

Pepe the Frog has been used as a freedom symbol by those Hong Kong protesters, and everyone knows those Chinamen are white supremacists and alt-right crazies.

Well, I’ve gone on long enough. It’s dark now, and my child bride will return from the gym very soon, expecting her salad to be ready. I cannot disappoint her.

My feeble mental capacity

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TRUMP FANS have become accustomed to violence, both verbal and physical, from Democrats since the Blond Bomber was elected, which sent the lefties into endless hissy fits.

Ensconced here on my Mexican mountaintop, I don’t fear being punched in the face so much as my fellow Trumpians do above the Rio Bravo. But I have had verbal run-ins with berserk, uninformed leftists, and I have known others who’ve had similar experiences.

A lifelong friend and her husband recently rented a vacation home in San Miguel de Allende where they stayed three months. She is a retired university professor with a specialty in Chinese history and culture, and her husband is also a retired teacher.

They are not bumpkins from the hills of West Virginia.

And they are YUGE Trump fans. During their stay in San Miguel they met what seemed to be a nice couple who invited them to their home one night for supper. During the evening’s conversation, my friend mentioned being a Trump supporter.

Get out! Get out! Get out!

So they departed. In the middle of dinner.

Recently, I emailed an old friend who is now living near the Gringo-infested, Mexican town of Ajijic, Jalisco. She and her husband were about the first people I met after arriving on the mountaintop from the state capital in September of 2000.

They lived directly next door to my rental. We socialized a lot. They were big party people, and I got invited over frequently. They were fun folks, chain smokers and boozers who drove an old, beat-up Ford Thunderbird sedan on its last legs.

They left our town years back due to health issues that were exacerbated by the thin mountain air. They headed to lower altitudes and moved around quite a bit.

Last week, not having heard from them in a long spell, and not knowing where they lived, I emailed her, inquiring about how they were doing and where they were. I also mentioned that I recently ran into some other old friends of theirs on our plaza.

Those people are not friends of ours, she said. They are Trump supporters! Bear in mind that these two couples were thick as thieves back then. So I responded in a jocular way, saying I too am a Trump fan. Hoo-boy! Here’s her response:

“So from your right-wing sources Fox News, Breitbart, Infowars and Russian internet trolls, you have become a supporter of a lying, corrupt, climate change denier and sexual predator who puts children in cages and hates Mexicans.* Good choice, idiot!!!”

I intuited from this that they vote Democrat. Prove me wrong.

Well, so much for them. From what I hear, lots of conservatives have lost long-term relationships, not just friends but family too, due to leftists’ inability to accept diversity of opinion. But I embrace my idiocy!!! Three exclamation points! Sad.

* * * *

* Not even one of these accusations is accurate.

(Moral to this story: Don’t booze, smoke, drive beat-up Thunderbirds or vote for the Democrat Party. Trust me on this. You’ll be a better person for it.)

And now this:

Running out of steam?

YESTERDAY, A READER from Tennessee emailed to ask if all was well on my end. The reason being that over a week has passed with nothing new under the Moon.

I rarely remain silent so long, but maybe I will in the future. Am I running out of steam? Perhaps. The older you get, the less steam you generate.

I began this writing effort 15 years ago come January. I started on the Blogger website with a different title. I believe the first post was about a lunch here at home with company, the guests being the inimitable Al Kinnison and his wife, Jean.

(Both of whom are now deceased. They were witnesses at our 2002 wedding. R.I.P.)

Al read it later and told me he liked it. That inspired me, so I soldiered on, mostly writing about my relatively new life in a startlingly different world. Often I waxed lyrical, and people praised it. The list of followers grew, and it was fun.

I permanently pasted some reader feedback on the side column of that blog. Here are just a few examples:

Infectiously personal.

You never cease to amuse and amaze me.

Pretentious dolt!

What a nice piece of heaven you share.

You’re like a drunk uncle.

You’re a right-wing wacko.

You are a treasure on the electron highway.

Dark introspection.

You are so funny. I was snorting in my atole reading this.

You disgust me. (a paraphrase)

Later, I abandoned Blogger and switched to WordPress, a far better platform, as it’s called. And by 2011, I had wearied of writing about “Life in Mexico,” which had become routine. The novelty was gone. Anyway, many Gringos here were writing about “Life in Mexico.”

They had that base covered well. One good example is Steve Cotton’s blog where he never seems to weary of writing about Mexico. I admire his stamina.

I tossed my first blog aside and started fresh with the intention of writing not about Mexico but other stuff. Enter The Unseen Moon, a title that came to me out of nowhere in the process of writing The Old Wolf. The phrase was in the final line.

Speaking of The Old Wolf, I began writing short fiction, which I’d never done before. Prior to 2005, with the birth of the first blog, in spite of being in the newspaper business for 30 years, I had never written anything but headlines and photo captions.

I was an editor, not a writer.

Most of the brief fiction is available hereabouts via links. I also jumped into politics, the good sort, the conservative kind. Leftists, being the rabid bunch they are, reacted as they do, and I had to block quite a few commenters due to rudeness and curses.

My WordPress list of blocked people is laughably long, all because of ill breeding. Sad.

So, here we are almost 15 years after the start. We’ve gone from the novelty of living in Mexico to fiction to politics, and at times it’s all combined. And I have aged. Fifteen years ago my hair was as much black as white. Now it’s all white, and I’m creaky, sometimes cranky.

Am I running out of steam? Perhaps. But not today, it seems.

See you down the line, but Lord knows when.

Do not go gentle into that good night. 

— Dylan Thomas

But why not, Dylan? One wonders.