Whatever You Do, Trumpublicans, do not dismount.

Statistics show that 45% of Republicans are ignoring social distancing. They are going out in groups, doing all that Dr Fauci and everyone else has warned them about.

To no avail. They just keep at it.

While they ardently believe that if they think that the past can be resurrected, the United States now has become the most infected and most lethal place for CoVid19 on earth.

Evidence to any eyes that are open and any brain capable of distinguishing a real live plague of BIblical proportions from a Father Knows Best delusion. This is not a wave of colds, this is lethally dangerous, easily worthy of Last Days status if left to its own devices.

Any fool can see that. Just look at what has happened to the health care system of New York. Or New Jersey. Or. or. Or…and so on ad nauseam. OK, well, perhaps not Republican Fools. They continue to act out the the 20th Century’s insane script of growth, trickle down, casino capitalism. As they try harder and harder, all sorts of things fail. It is the Story of The Donald’s Deluded Life.

The latest disaster of the Trumpublicans is food. It is going to be harder to get. Food plants are closing. And where is the population feeding cavalry of casino capitalism? Nowhere to be seen. Maybe Governor Cuomo can get some of the 1% to ante up part of what the have sucked out of our pockets to pay food processing plants to stay open.

And the Trumpublicans? Debating whether to have briefings or not, and losing to themselves at every turn.

Trickle down hangers on, take note: finally proof that the government is not the problem, Ronald, it is the Trumplublican leadership. They could prevent all the disasters, failures, flubs and snafus–if they had the competencies to manage a government. But they do not. If they have any competencies, they may be some from private industry.

But even there, probably only entry level ones. How do we know that? It is the American propensity not to develop new competencies in leaders after entering an organization. Saw that fact over and over in decades working with people in all sectors on — job competency profiling. We are an assiduously underdeveloped, cultivated adolescent culture. We have leaders who have no idea how to do that and organizations in which Presidents describe the competencies for their jobs exactly the same way that first line supervisors do.

Oh we have been there, seen this in our 40 plus years consulting to US and other culture firms. Ad nauseam, ad Trumpublican nauseam.

That is the type of culture in which nobody knows whose pronouncement are the ones to follow, in which Presidentrs cannot figure out why those peoplle “down there” are not “motivated” to do their jobs, where the people “down there” make caustic criticisms of the fattened salaries and bonuses the top brass get only to spend their time interfering arbitrarily with the guys ‘down there’ — it beats looking at how litle they the overpaid do to justify their overpay. It is the sort of culture that places short term profit taking far above in house competency development as a budget priority. It is the culture that that shoots-first-talks-later and thinks it does something besides kill motivation. That’s the kind of culture that thinks being always harshly against things (the DT syndrome) motivates people to be more enthusiastically engaged: the punching bag theory of leading. It is a see-saw culture: today laissez-faire, tomorrow absolute dictator and thinks that is averages out to democratic leadilng — or just does not give a damn. That is the mushroom type of culture, the speciality of guys like MM and DT: keep the employees in the dark and occasionally s–t on them. That is the kind of culture DT has created in our federal government and that is why it is dead in the water.

Ah, but Moscow Mitch (old MM) replies: let them stew in their own juice, let them drown in their own evil paperwork, let them starve. Get them (and seniors, states, Democrats, dissenting Trumpublicans, etc ad nauseam) out of our way. We are paid off, mounted and ready to ride!

MM (gums up your hands, fouls in your mouth), DT ( the legend in his own mini-mind), et al , are living proof of two old German adages: die Dummheit stirbt nie aus.— stupidity will never become extinct and second, even more apropos, Wenn dein Pferd stirbt, steig’ ab!: when your horse dies, dismount!

The trouble is, they won’t get the German wisdom because while you can always tell a Trumpublican, you can’t tell him or her much. They do not see that the rest of us are running hell bent for leather for new mounts. And Moscow Mitch and Deadhead Donald, the Trail Bosses, tell the Trumpublican Troops to stay put in the saddle and kick, beat, their dead horses while they shout and above all think they still can ridicule the rest of us.

So bored and angry are we at them that we can no longer even laugh at a bunch of pasty dissipated old MM-like boys sitting on top of decaying horse cadavers (or were those Elephant corpses?) kicking, jerking reins and shouting, Wahoo, yippiekaiyaye, out of the way you evil liberals because here we come….

Big changes are in the works—this is a spiritual as well as physical, mental, financial,social upheaval. In the DT-spawned and MM managed lethal vacuum of leadership and care involving CoVid19, we are rediscovering helping each other again. We are discovering that we can do without those old fools beating their dead horses.

As we walk away, we slowly begin to rejoice that those Trumpublicans are still beating their dead horses. And we think: good, but for heaven’s sake, do anything but dismount. That is right where you belong.

Too good not to share

from: https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2020/4/22/1939530/-Too-Good-Not-to-Share-Ode-to-Sean-Hannity-by-John-Cleese?utm_campaign=trending

Ode to Sean Hannity

by John Cleese

Aping urbanity

Oozing with vanity

Plump as a manatee

Faking humanity

Journalistic calamity

Intellectual inanity

Fox News insanity

You’re a profanity


Thank you, John Cleese!. But a short historical correction applies here. DT cannot hold the title,the greatest leader in all of history. You see, the Title is already taken. It was first bestowed, with all due insincerity, on …. drum roll…..Adolph H, late of the 13 year long Thousand Year Reich. Adolph, a worthy rival to DT in egotism, ate it right up. Leader Fuehrer FIeld Marshall Stable Genius Feldherr in the Nazi State or the dirty delusion of a Trump State, it all meant #1 guy and respect it or else!

It was originally published by the Nazi Party, but that backfired. Subdued and threatened German soldiers, who wanted to laugh privately but thoroughly at the malignant corporal clown, with tongue in cheek shortened to Gröfaz – German soldiers’ derogatory acronym for Größter Feldherr aller Zeiten.(Grö+F+a+Z) (Thank you, danke schoen Wikipedia)

One history of humor in the 13 years of the Thousand Year Reich indicated that Gröfaz became a popular derogatory term outside the Wehrmacht. It could have been heard by Germans just as an acronym to laugh at, but it also, when spoken fast, and semi-whispered at a distance almost can be heard as the German for “greatest fart” größter Feldherr aller Zeiten ~ Grö-faz/Größ-furz.

What it sounds like in German

At any rate, the full title can belong to only one Deluded Stable Genius, and AH took that accolade. However, the acronym has now become a term unto itself. It is listed on Wikipedia as a German military term. And therefore it may be bestowed with all rights and honors appurtenant thereunto upon the fake sun tanned brow of DT: D Gröfaz T. OR DT, Gröfaz— has a certain ring to it, nicht wahr/ right?

Who are we then?

Living today is often like finding out that I am in a real On The Beach–the last US submarine after the nuclear war has dropped me off on some formerly bustling sunbathing, volleyball playing, eating and drinking and beautiful body showing beach. The hissing of the silence is unnerving — did I hear a voice? was that a person just on the edge of my view? Now there’s just an empty everywhere, with traffic lights silently choreographing yellow-red-green-yellow-red… for traffic that no longer exists.

Where has the US of my father gone? How can something as bad as this be so quiet?

A while back a poem was making the rounds of blogs by the medieval German poet, Walther von der Vogelweide. Someone must have figured out my background and love for German Literature because without warning of any kind, links to it found their way here to Pane in the Tale.

It is a moving poem about losses in old age: Owê war sind verswunden, alliu mîniu jâr… Oh woe where have all my years disappeared to….. And indeed it does very eloquently express the woe and loss that the collapse of contact by outliving friends has caused.

  1. an older cousin, one of crucial importance to me in my youth mostly, and who has always occupied a bright place in my consciousness: gone. How can he be gone? It cannot be but is.
  2. the friend who died and who via a medium, who has no idea who I am, told his wife, tell Greg I miss our morning phone calls! He cannot be gone, he is too important.
  3. add Muffy, JJ, Steve, Butch, my first five German Shepherd companions,
  4. my parents, my uncles:
1944, late spring. That’s me riding on the back of that beloved uncle. Yes, the1st Lt. , who directed his field artillery unit in the Hürtgen Forest and would not talk about it


  1. my uncles who fought in World War Two. Wait a minute, didn’t I just the other day see the one who loved to play with me arrive in his summer khakis by train in downtown Detroit amidst a crowd erupting in tumultuous volcanic welcomes?

If it ended there, then OK Walther, you get the ring on the merry go round.

Today, however, it does not end there..

How can Trump stand where FDR stood, yes stood crippled, in the nation which came from far behind in 12/7/1941 to wind up last man standing at the end of WW2? How to adjust to the open and unhealing wound from the cutting bully behavior where civility and diplomacy always came to reside as mission critical competencies for 240 years?

Of our three foundational rights, Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness, life and liberty are cracked and happiness come to mean selfishness, greed. Was Jefferson wrong? Are we finally unworthy of the happiness derived from participation in the governance of ourselves?

Am I deluded in thinking myself a worthy member of a democratic state by expressing my opinions publicly? It would appear that 40% of our population thinks that we really need someone as President who “shakes things up, a disruptor”. How can we believe in that part of us who thought this country to be a unique experiment in equality–who felt that we were part of that?

How can we have the continued sense of safety and stability when the President has failed to catalyze a response of any positive sort to the largest physical threat humanity has experienced ever?

It is not just the failures that reduce us. His attacks which lame and dismanantle our democratic, republican institutions violate our trust in our President, and by easy extension, the political system and public values which put this incompetent world-hater into George Washingtons chair. We relied on those institutions. We invested ourselves, our trust, our expectations, our treasure, our safety in them.

Who are we then that this nation, which we thought was there for us, no longer is? How can we ever again think ourselves proud agents of an admired, successful state? After all, we elected him, not “they”. Who he is was as plain as the nose on your face or his perpetual sneering scowl.

Yet he won the Electoral College nod. Whatever currents of dysfunction and destruction carried him into office, they are ours now to stop in November and then, with the ardor of racing for survival, to correct .

And now the reports about fewer food choices begin to trickle in. It was predictable that food plants might have to close during lockdowns. It was predictable that we would need them open to eat. It was predictable that the one agency which could act across state lines, the Federal Government, would need to and could help keep it going till we could go back to work.

And who should have led that charge to protect food production, which never happened? That’s him, our DT, in the scowl shots above. What was he doing when the food reports came in? Dithering in temper tantrums about whether to hold briefings or not. He decided not to – -and could not keep that resolve for three days.

Who we are is in part a function of what level of needs we are working to satisfy — enter Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. We have just had the rugs of self actualization, esteem, love and belonging as US citizens, and safety as people who need to eat yanked right out from under us.

This is not whining self pity. God does not like that: . It is not the poor-me’s. It is grieving the loss of the props of democracy and safe participation. . I am being pushed into protective thinking, pushed under by the waves of disorder as the river of consciousness is suddenly channeled over very stony rapids.

How then can I say that graphically?

Jump forward in time a few centuries in German-speaking Europe to the the 30 Years War (1618-1648) and Andreas Gryphius. In the horrid meat grinding, pestilent 30 years of war, he has to ask: was sind wir Menschen doch? – – well what are we humans then?

Menschliches Elende

Human Misery

Was sind wir Menschen doch!

What are we humans then!

ein Wohnhaus grimmer Schmerzen

a home for ferocious kicks,

ein Ball des falschen Glücks

a ball of false luck

ein Irrlicht dieser Zeit

a fen-fire of this time

ein Schauplatz herber Angst

a theater of tart worry

besetzt mit scharfem Leid

cast with bitter burnt lime,

ein bald verschmelzter Schnee

a snow soon melted away

und argebrannte Kerzen.

and burnt out candle sticks.


Das Leben fleucht davon

Life is whisked away

wie ein Geschwätz und Scherzen

like idle chatter or some jest.

Die vor uns abgelegt

Who before us have laid down

des schwachen Leibes Kleid

the frail body’s cloak—

und in das Totenbuch

and in the obituary

der großen Sterblichkeit

of the great Croak

längst eingeschrieben sind,

long since had been registered:

sind uns aus Sinn und Herzen.

gone from mind and breast.


Gleich wie ein eitel Traum

Just like a vain-hoped dream

leicht aus der Acht hinfällt

easily fades to black

und wie ein Strom verschleußt

and rushes onward like a stream

den keine Macht aufhält

which no power can hold back,

so muß auch unser Nam, Lob,

thus must our name, praise

Ehr und Ruhm verschwinden.

honor and glory disappear.


Was itzund Athem holt

Whatever now draws breath

muß mit der Luft entfliehn

must expire with the air exhaled.

Was nach uns kommen wird

Whatever will come after us

wird uns ins Grab nachziehn

will pull us back into the grave’s jail.

Was sag’ ich? Wir vergehen

What am I saying? We fade away

wie Rauch vor starkem Wind.

like smoke before strong wind.

Who are we then? We are Americans who need to affirm all that Gryphius says, rid ourselves of the Trump Pestilence, and remember always: AMERICAN ends in I CAN.



Gryphius (born Greif) close witness of 30 Years War (1618-1648 much fought on German soil) plus plague, famine; ca. 67% of German population died during that time

Left strong impressions: Witness to burning and pillaging of town of Freystadt 1August 1632

Many of his images are events he saw and used also metaphorically-and can be read as metaphors for our time as well

Death was personal experience, not abstract: left his mood somewhat melancholic

Driven from hometown by war, made self an orphan but acquired excellent classical education

One of earliest poets to write in German instead of Latin

Must successful dramatist in German from 1616 to 18th century

Well educated man, named poet laureate by his wealthy patron; one of most important poets of German Baroque, improver of German as language of poetry

Time of political, social, economic upheaval & unbridled, seldom neither active nor almost active violence as status quo in certain of German principalities of Central Europe

Famous image of omnipresence of war: das vom Blut fette Schwert–the sword grown fat on blood

Asteroid 496 named Gryphia after him

WHere to honor the stable genius

Stable Genius at work.
Stable Genius at work

Trump, the “War President”. Then Trump the Ruler with Abaolute Authority. Now Trump the Benevolent Self Restraining-Ruler with Absolute Authority.

Utter nonsense. And arrgoant pretense. The most dangerously incompetent President in 244 years landed int the middle of the most pervasive, lethal health crisis in recorded human history.

People much more able to list his sins of both CoVid omission and Corona commission have done so. It is all over the place, for anyone to see. HE FAILED.

That failure has cost us 10s of thousands of lives, many times that in grief and suffering, it has shaken the foundations of constitutional government and its institutions in the US, it has destroyed trust in our systems abroad, it has killed and buried any shreds left of moral authority, it has cost us trillions of dollars,

Let us the never forget even for a moment:


What would have been the fate of a non political figure who had done exactly as DT has? Go on, take a mental leap. So what then should happen to DT because of his mis- and malfeasance? And to the Republicans who are shielding him? How much more of him and them will we swallow?

It must be remembered, that Donald assured us after all that he is, indeed, a Stable Genius. And for his gullible and people pleasing, authority loving, culturally adolescent Peanut Gallery of voters and US Republican brown-nosing Senators, as he is President he ipso facto is a good man, doing all he can for us. We, the disruptors, should stop bullying the poor fellow and let him continue to do a good job. The Bully as Victim. Hitler would approve.

You can always tell a Trump supporter, but you can’t tell him (her, them) much. They are living proof of the German adage, die Dummheit stirbt nie aus — stupidity will never become extinct.

So then, how has the Stable Genius made amends for this calamity? Has the genius gotten our front line healthcare workers their indispensable protective gear? No. No. Has the stable genius shown his tax records, unedited, to the public? No. Has he made amends for his destructive ways by qjuickly hiring experienced government managers to replace all the ones he drove out? No. Has he even once hinted at a mistake or better, remorse, muffled a choked amend, asked for forgiveness and help? Are you kidding me? DT is no Andrew Cuomo.

Has the genius stopped trying to blame everyone else for his snafus? No, Now it was Impeachment that “distracted” him from dealing with the growing pandemic threat. Hmm, like for example how Lincoln failed to pay attention to the attack on Fort Sumpter or when FDR just dismissed Pearl Harbor as not really going to amount to much of anything? DT a War President–like a Lincoln or Woodrow Wilson or FDR?

Yet, the Stable Genius has fulfilled his promise! We are #1– in CoVid19 thanks to Stable Genius Donald. You know he succeeded because he appears on tv updates about CoVid19 without the Make America Great baseball cap any more! .

Or has he succeeded?

OK, then DT survivors, it is time to vote. Lets have a showing of hands. How many of you want to repeat with DT the process that brought us this CoVid19 Greatness? …. Oh oh,, I see no hands except for those from the dwindling group of Trumpers and Trumpettes? Well, my heavens, just imagine my surprise..

Thanks but no thanks, DT. We’ve had enough DT success for one national lifetime. As a President, you are misplaced, hugely.

Reviewing the narratrive of the Stable Genius’ Achievements, perhaps it is just that The Donald’s stable genius merely appears to be good for nothing but negating things. Perhaps Donald is not our US Mephistopheles (the Devil in Faust, the 19th century drama by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe), but just a misplaced Stable Genius.

There is one topic constant in the Donald Dialogue, one steady fount of bellowing about which he manifestly knows a lot. It alone may well to the path he must trudge on the way to his still darkened destiny.

The Stable Genius seems to know a lot about s–t.

The Germans, being immensely perceptive and willing to borrow into their tongue any and all pithy, robust and strong vocabulary, immediately recognized that. They honored this depth of knowledge by adding “shitstorm” to their vocabulary: der Shitstorm. So there’s the clue to the question: where might he have gotten such deep s–t knowledge? He’s been telling us all along: in a Stable! That’s where he belongs, where his s–t genius is at home.

DT increasing;ly seems a lost soul. He lives on junk food to find comfort. To feel some sense of identity and power, he lashes out at loyal civil servants and appointed Secretaries, seeing in them only roadblocks finally to finding a home for his misplaced Genius. We must drive him asap to the Right Stable. A Steble where we can best honor his genius. With all the other Horses’ Asses. No s–t!