Jon Elkon

Category: Uncategorized

  • Letter from America 12: And Finally Apres moi…!

    Letter from America 12: And Finally Apres moi…!

     

    Behind me, my nephew listens to bluegrass music and taps away at his iPad, working from home. Or rather, his parents’ home – he lives in LA.

    On the floor below mom looks around her from her bed, and wonders where she is.

    Shortly I will accompany sister to bully the tiny watchmaker who messed up her Cartier.

    Everyday life in smart America. The sea dreams away on my left, La Jolla gets on with its preening and flirting, and its buying – yes, it’s Black Friday, so all the stores will be heaving after the Thanksgiving hiatus. But buy buy buy! Stuff!

     

    STUFF

    You’re the victim of every bluff

    However much you consume you can’t get enough

    Stuff!

    Stuff made of guff!

    Stuff filled with puff!

    Stuff which is really

    Nothing but bluff!

    Fluff stuff! Standing stuff!

    Running stuff! Televisually 

    Stunning stuff!

    Never enough!

    In New York and Washington men and women with pale faces look out over the ruins of democracy with joy or fear, still trying to work out how the candidate with the most votes in the last election is not going to be President.

    So how do I sum up this last stunned and stunning two weeks?

    Yesterday for Thanksgiving we dined at the mansion of a Trump supporter. In a gated community hidden away in the back roads of La Jolla, protected by armed guards. The host was unremittingly charming, hospitable and kind. The house heaved with a good cross section of wealthy Californians. The Millennials with their young kids, so sleek, so smiling, so very lovely. Then the older generations, many of them expats who had made it or not in this gilded jungle. The fat, the thin, the fit, the dim.

     

    Humans come in shapes and sizes

    Some of them are nice surprises

    Some like ships upon the sea

    Some of them are you and me

    Their Corners brim with arms and legs

    With fingers toes upon the edges

    Some of them don’t play the game

    By leaving out the human brain!

     

    On the car journey I was strictly informed that politics and religion are never discussed on Thanksgiving. Frustrating! So many questions: how could he? Why on earth? Is he sane? On the journey: sister, nephew, mother.  We discussed the “give him a chance” brigade. And agreed, sadly – we have no choice! The BO is to be president. The option of shooting him is sadly not on – already the state is spending millions a day protecting the bastard. Besides one Englishman tried and failed already. And the prospect of Pence taking over is a terrifying one.

    So in the mansion I ate and drank and only one phrase kept floating through my head: apres  mois le deluge! Attributed to Louis XV of France (or maybe his floozy, Madame de Pompadour) meaning “after me comes the flood.” So correctly predicting the French Revolution. Heads will roll…

    Today the Globally Warmed coast basks in burning November sun. The rabid right racists are hunting for Muslims Jews and blacks to break. Builders are putting their wall-building bids together. Fox News, Breitbart and all the other rabid media are still celebrating rabidly. The Big Orange is looking for more barking nutcases to appoint to his cabinet. Barking nutcases all over the country are preparing their cvs for submission.

    I am nearly packed….within a few hours I’m outta here.

     

    Here is an old poem – about 3 years old – seems appropriate. But don’t WORRY. Sorry.

     

    A Fall of Leaves Perhaps 

     

    This Autumn le petit mort

    Perhaps 

    Or was that

    Rainy gloomy messy thing

    Just passed

    The last summer?

     

    will

    The wistful world

    At last reject

    Us, This virus which

    Naturally selected

    Infects 

    Until

    This earth, disturbed, stirs

    And with a mighty

     

    Yawn

     

    Enacts 

    Antibodies…

     

    (Do I care, dear?

    I’m outta here!

    NO fear!

    Bye bye!

    One wing detached, see me fly!)

     

  • Letter from America 11: There ARE other stories!

    Letter from America 11: There ARE other stories!

    Reasons for Thanksgiving

    In Madaya Syria Omar, a fifteen year old boy, threw himself off a balcony a few days ago. Separated from his mother, suffering daily horrendous bombardment, he saw no alternative. He survived, and people from all over the world have sent him wonderful messages of love and support. Who cares about the politics! It’s the people who matter.

    Give thanks.

    Tokyo is stifled in snow for the first time in 50 years. Amazing! Beautiful! Surprised and shivering, the Japanese marvel at the prettiness. Who cares about global warming! (Apart from me and you, that is.) The Japanese love their photographs.

    Give thanks.

    In Florida USA and Liverpool UK fireballs are seen in the sky. A wonderful display! People report incredibly bright flaming comet-like visitations in the sky. Who cares if they burn up long before these balls of rock and matter strike the earth (apart from me and you of course), perhaps they are omens of the birth of a Saviour, a real one this time.

    Give thanks.

    In another UK story, 50 men called a telephone support line to report having been abused by their football coach. Thank goodness the depredations of these predators (some of the victims were 11 years old) are being made public. Hopefully those abused will have the courage to seek help and stop blaming themselves – and the abusers will be placed where they can’t prey on children.

    Give thanks.

    And a serial killer gets life for luring men through a dating app, drugging, raping and killing them. This terrifying monster will never hunt down another innocent victim. Who cares if he gets lots of anal attention in prison and finds himself a victim of sexual rapaciousness? Nice. More proof the death penalty is a silly idea. Prison is much better revenge!

    Give thanks.

    Costa Rica and Nicaragua cower before the approach of  Hurricane Otto.

    Uhhh thanks? Well, thanks for the satellites which at least give warning, so that people can take shelter. Watch that space.

    Meanwhile in the USA! My mom, left for a few moments alone in a cafe while I get the food, has a conversation with the mirror. Thanks to her amazing sense of humour, I managed to turn the whole thing into a huge joke, despite inner heartbreak…

    And in the US it’s Thanksgiving Day. Held every year to celebrate the sharing of turkeys between Native Americans and Pilgrim Fathers, this is a national holiday bigger than Christmas. The notorious Highway 405 between San Diego and Los Angeles begins to live up to its name, which is generally accepted to mean it could take 4 or 5 hours to do the 100 mile journey. Daniel my nephew is currently sitting in this glorified parking lot with his dog and a buddy, hoping to get to La Jolla before tomorrow.

    I have promised a Trump-free blog today and so far I’ve managed not to write a word about Mr Flipflop! But may I just mention a little something about how much fun I’m having yapping like a terrier at the legs of Trumpists online…sooner or later one will come hunting for me with a gun!

    Who cares. I leave tomorrow, climb back into the snake, sit in a huge cigar which against all the laws of nature will zoom over land and sea. And within a few days, having popped into London to say hi and teach some martial arts, I’ll be in Cape Town. From which, dear readers (both of you!) I will be writing my Letter from Zumania!

    So let us give thanks! For laughter, for humanity, for love, for optimism, for logic and clarity, for strength and the determination of so many humans to do good in a desperately difficult world.

     

    To send a message of support to Omar, email James.longman@bbc.co.uk or see @jamesAAlongman on Twitter

  • Letter from America 10: Climate dump!

    Want a SHORT easy route to having an opinion on Trump’s effect on Climate Change? Here is a summary for your convenience to give you the essential information for that next dinner party or coffee-break conversation. 

    In 2009 BO was a signatory on a letter to Obama emphasising the importance of tackling Climate Change. In 2016 Mr Flipflop, (the Big Orange)  desperate to rule the world, turned to his ill-informed fans and promised to cancel all contributions to all UN programs to tackle global warming; to withdraw from the Paris Agreement; to revive the fortunes of the ailing coal mining and power generating industry; and to dismantle the EPA – the Environment Protection Agency, originally believe it or not, set up by Richard Nixon, the previous worst Republican President of all time.

    So to what extent is the Big Orange a threat to the safe existence of mankind on the planet? BBC Radio 4, in the program Costing the Earth today tackled this question. For more detail than I’m giving you, go to http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b006r4wn

    One by one. He will need the support of Congress for most of these proposals to succeed. The majority of Trump supporters accept the phenomenon of Climate Change, though many do not agree that it is man-made. This means that many Rep congressmen and women may not support attempts to disengage from UN programs – however, the consensus amongst interviewees was that this could be the easiest promise for him to achieve. A gradual withdrawal of funds could hit international initiatives badly.

    However, we need to accept that China has now become one of the most committed countries to tackling climate change. They have thoroughly analysed the science and concluded that global warming is a huge challenge, and largely caused by dirty Chinese industries. We can finally welcome the Chinese as major allies in the desperate battle to come – after all, Shanghai is at sea level and will be one of their first cities to be abandoned in the worst-case scenario.

    India too is beginning to realise the danger. They have reluctantly accepted the need for action, whether through the UN, or the Paris agreement. Russia remains a big question- time will tell whether they will be enthusiastic in joining the rest of the world.

    Conclusion: while DT can withdraw some funding from UN programmes, other countries will probably make up the shortfalls.

    So can BO withdraw the US from the Paris agreement? President Obama worked very hard on getting international consensus and agreement over a number of years and finally in April a maximum 2 degree limit to temperature rise was agreed between the nations. They committed to “take ambitious efforts to combat climate change and its effects”. I think we can be certain that one of DT’s main objections to the agreement is that it is part of the Obama legacy – something he is determined to destroy.

    Conclusion: it would take about 3 years to withdraw completely from the agreement. However, BO can squeeze the US contributions to the funding of initiatives under the agreement in the meanwhile. Again, other countries are likely to step in. International relations will certainly be soured by an attempt to withdraw.

    King Coal. Under Obama, coal-generated power fell from 52 percent to 29 percent. 411 coal-fired power stations have closed. Employment fell proportionately. This is not entirely due to the President putting pressure through legislation on that industry- the main cause is quite simply market forces. Competition from renewables – wind sun etc – is not the main factor. Fracking and shale gas is. This form of energy is also a fossil fuel, and hugely damaging to the environment.

    Conclusion: however much money is poured into the coal industry it will never recover to pre-Obama levels. There is a great deal of support for renewables, especially at State level if not at Federal level. The consumer is opting more-and more for clean energy. So while carbon emissions will continue to be high from fossil fuels, the outlook is not wholly gloomy.

    Dismantling the EPA will not be easy. According to some commentators the Agency is far too embedded into the fabric of state and federal government to be easily unpacked. It could take years.

    General conclusion: yes the new President is certainly a threat to our continued environmental safety and security on our fragile planet. However, should he serve only one term the damage won’t be catastrophic. If he does not change his opinions and serves two terms, well, I advise a Space Ark. And if he declares himself President for Life, Armageddon!

    (Keep an eye on the way he changes direction with the wind. Excuse pun. It is possible he will shift position on this, as he has just done with the Hilary prosecution)

    Hey! Btw – do you know any nice Trump supporters or Brexiters? Frankly I do, but my definition of “nice” has changed. Many of them are nice to dogs. Children. Old ladies. Some even give to charities. Some are nice to people of other races. Some are relatively decent to LGBT + . Although not to immigrants on the whole. But “some” is very different to “most”. 

  • Letter from America 9: Dear cuz….

    Letter from America 9: Dear cuz….

    Actually, I was just developing a theory which goes like this: it is probable that I died ten years ago and haven’t noticed it yet. This thing that just goes on and on may be what the ancients described as purgatory. Or heaven. Or hell. Or something. Sigh. So maybe this applies to everyone- ten years ago a comet struck the earth and we were all destroyed and live on in our own imaginations…wait, I’m quite liking this. And then, each person’s “reality” is completely different. In my reality some asshole has become US president – which shows a deep thread of pessimism and an incredible imagination on my part. It also shows what a fucking good  Science Fiction writer I could have been had Earth survived the comet.

     

    Which reminds me about the story of the guy who decided once and for all to sort out the real meaning of life. Yes, of course he had read Douglas Adams and knew all about 42. Which in fact spurred him to undertake a similar mission, using all published sources….

     

    A DAY IN THE DEATH

     

    Junius had long suspected that he was right on the brink of working out life’s mystery, and then every time he put all the evidence together, there was always a critical missing piece. Some  piece of information, something which would make everything clear…

    His lifetime had been devoted to the search since at least the age of twelve when, despite his parents’ pleas, he decided not to have a Barmitzvah. Admittedly they were not observant Jews, but had decided that in case Junius wanted to be Jewish he should at least have the option open to him, by having the official ceremony performed which would, in Jewish Law, be the passage to manhood and an initiation into that arcane religion.

    They sent him to Hebrew class. They had the Rabbi teach him the ‘pasha’, the section of the Torah he would recite in synagogue on his day of days.

    This whole plan collapsed when Junius read the English translation of the pasha. Years later he explained this to his fifteen-year old nephew who had taken to wearing a skullcap and lecturing people on the right way to behave. “I don’t remember the exact words,” he said, “But they were something like this: ‘I am the Lord thy God. You shall worship me as God of Gods or I shall strike all thy crops. I shall make your women barren. I shall make all thy sheep lame. I shall put a curse on you for generations…’ – Hey, I thought! That’s nobody I would want to worship. Nasty old man!”

    “Nonsense,” Nephew said. “There’s no such passage.”

    “You look!” Junius said. “Asshole!”

    And so, from the age of fifteen, Junius began a program of intensive reading. He read the whole Bible. He read the Tao Te Ching, the Q’Ran, most of the Buddhist Sutras, the Bhagavad Gita, the Upanishads, the Tripitakas, the Guru Granth Sahib, the Kitáb-i-Aqdas. And for the next thirty years he sought out every living holy man (or woman!) he could find to sit at the feet of and learn from. He read most of the main commentators on the religions.

    He took a variety of hallucinogenic and allegedly spiritual drugs, with appropriate shamans. Ahayhuasca. Mescaline. Peyote. LSD. Psilocybin.

    And eventually, at the age of eighty, he decided to synthesise every Holy Book into just one, in the manner of Deep Thought, the fictional computer in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. So he appointed a top tekkie to develop a computer program which would put everything the holy books have in common onto a single document.

    It took three days. He had budgeted for three years.

    And while he expected a few thousand pages, it was one page.

     

    Do you know what it said?

     

    It didn’t say 42.

  • Letter from America 8: A Play for Today

    Picture: thesixteen.org

    Sexist meets “rapist”

    Scene: a gold-plated conference room at the top of Trump Tower. Bright red curtains festoon the windows. A Louis XIV Boulle reproduction desk is at centre stage rear, side-on to the stage. A low gilded Bergere chair faces the desk while at the Business End a large leather and chrome boss’ chair dominates the room. The desk itself is free of any clutter, apart from a gold-plated reproduction 50’s telephone. A massive, florid portrait of the Trump is suspended, brightly lit by a garish spotlight, above the desk.

    Enter the Japanese team stage L. The delegation is led by the Japanese PM Shinzo Abe (pronounced Ah beh! Not “Shinzo” that’s pronounced Shinzo.) To his L, his translator Michiko, and on his right, Katsiyuko Kawaii, his Special Advisor. For a moment, they stand staring in amazement around them. Then, unable to contain himself, Shinzo starts to chortle, and a wave of barely suppressed giggling travels through the delegation until Katsiyuko hushes them and mutters in Japanese, Shush! They’re coming!

    Enter the Trump delegation stage Right. For opera lovers, imagine the scene from Handel’s Giulio Cesare, when Julius Caesar first meets Ptolemy, pharaoh of Egypt. Put that music in your mind…. (Search Va Tacito Glyndebourne on YouTuben- I’ve posted it on my Facebook page)

     On BO’s L, his barking Breitbart Advisor Steve Loose Cannon wearing a see through night dress and horns. On his R, his Chief of Stuff Reined Priapus in a KKK hat and white robes. His gun-in law Jared the Joker hovers above, taking pictures on his iPhone. The BO, as his acolytes call him (the Big Orange) himself is dressed as Al Capone dressed as Benito Mussolini in a pinstriped suit, dark glasses. To make the Japanese feel at home, he has strapped a Samurai sword to his belt.

    The two delegations approach each other slowly, with dignity and when about 6 ft apart, Shinzo extends a hand to be shaken. BO, however, has a germ phobia and has been practicing his bow. He now attempts a Japanese bow which Shinzo, as he realizes what is expected of him, steps forward and bows. Their heads meet, painfully.

     

    BO: (Startled) Shit! I’m injured! Millie! Where are you!

    A beautiful 18-year old girl in very skimpy clothes jumps forward to help him. She wipes his brow with an antibacterial cloth, rearranges his hair and steps back.

    Shinzo: (mortified) Sorry, so sorry!

    BO: You speak English? (Then not sure he is understood, speaks more loudly in a Japanese accent) Speaka Ingrish?

    Shinzo: I prefer Japanese. I have a translator…(Gestures toward Michiko)

    BO: Hey! What a babe! (He winks lecherously) Tell ya what, come see me after, ok? Right! To business. English it is, right?

    Shinzo: I prefer Japanese.

    BO: Well I prefer English! You speak Ingrish, right? You’re in my country. Here we speaka da Ingrish.

    Shinzo (Sighs. He is deeply offended. But decides to adapt for the sake of good relations): First, I congratulate you on your election.

    BO: Didn’t expect that! Huh! You banked on the bitch winning! Hah! Yeh so? Next? Why did you want to be the first foreign person to have the honour of seeing me?

    Shinzo: (Swallowing anger and deciding to get the meeting over with) You said some very worrying things about Japan Mr Trump. My people are concerned…

    BO: (laughs) I said a lot of things. You can’t expect me to remember all of them. So what did I say?

    Shinzo: Well, for a start, you said the Trans Pacific Partnership is a rape of your country…

    BO: The Trans what? What the hell is that?

    Shinzo: That’s the agreement between our countries. Just recently signed.  Very good for trade!

    BO: Really? Is it? I like trade.

    Shinzo: Sure! And that’s not all. My people are really worried.

    BO: Are they? I’m not surprised! I am all for Trans ….it’s not their fault they’re perverts! They’re born that way!

    Shinzo: That’s not….

    BO: And rape? I’m against it! I’ve told all my people, no rape until we have established ourselves in the White House! After that all babes are fair game. No wonder your people are upset!

    Shinzo: That’s not …

    BO: You know what, Abe babe, I’m on it! Can I call you Abe? I won’t have any unhappy people. Just tell your Jap buddies, the Donald will fix everything. I need to think about it. Then I will fix. Done? Deal done! Boy, I’m awesome! The Art of the Deal strikes again…

    (He nimbly makes up the gap between them, bows, bumping heads once again, and, shouting “Milly! Exits stage R, followed by his people, applauding as they go. Leaving Shinzo and his people speechless, staring after the Americans.)

     

    Curtain

  • Letter from America 7: Who Cares?

    Letter from America 7: who cares?

    Fascinating discussion over dinner. Who cares? I mean, why does the Facebook generation care more about cats than the rats who they have voted in to run the place? Miaow!

    “There’s nothing wrong with life today,” He said. Then he added, “I want facts not opinions so I use the Internet”. Seriously. He said that. Uhhhh….of course his friends on FB all have the same opinions. And they post video and “news” that supports those opinions or ideas. Which is why he is convinced Obama “admitted to being a Muslim, man. I know! I saw it on the internet!” You dick. Completely fake. Then “Even Pope Francis endorsed Trump! I know man, I saw it on the Internet!” You double dick. As fake as a three pound note. Over 1.2 million people viewed this nonsense and I imagine a huge number believed it.

    Who cares.

    “Are you joking,” he said later, wiping a speck of blood from his lips, Why should I read the news! It’s TMI!” To understand his arcane language, you have to understand the acronyms. Too Much Information. “Mostly, that stuff is TLDR!” And that one means, Too Long Didn’t Read and that applies to much on FB. You know when you post something close to the heart? No one ever presses “read more”. Often I don’t, to be honest. Especially if I think the content, e.g. Football results from Estonia, or the latest on your cat’s cuteness are not too exciting.

    He sat back in his chair looking immensely smug and in control. “I never read YOUR posts! They’re just rants! Always ranting about this and that. Boring!” Under his seat, a solitary termite chewed at the leg of the chair.

    And a sword, suspended over his head, waved in the fetid breeze from the burning city outside.

    “Worry not about the youth!

    They’re so happy Post Truth

    Give them cats and jolly memes and say

    There’s nothing wrong with life today!”

    See http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-37995600

  • Letter from America 6: Sleepless in San Diego

    The Big Orange inspects his cabinet
    Lovers, Let us Laugh

    Outside, the moon in its seventy year cycle of attempting to land on earth once more fails and begins to leave. Most of America sleeps. The battle over, the conqueror is still no doubt awake, basking in his own cleverness and making plans which he will probably change fifteen times as his butterfly mind flickers between  organising revenge against those who opposed his rise, plots for trumpeting his greatness over the entire world, and general empire building.

    We’ll call him Big Orange, or BO. Today he announced which of his buddies will form his Cabinet. He chose, of course, Pugh, Pugh, Barney Mc Grew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub. No doubt this too will change as the BO imagines plots against him or any one of these should dare to make a move on a daughter. Or son.

    And the rest of the world prepares for a Trumpton invasion. Each country has its Trumpists, its fifth columns who have been praying for this outcome for years. Queenist Britain has already fallen to the Brutes of Brexit, led by A Farrago, with his pet twit Boris, one of BO’s illegitimate secret offspring and a Gove Toad. In sweet little tulip-hugging Holland, BO’s illegitimate secret son Geert Wildman has been  promising to kick all foreigners into canals and suffocate them with kindness until they die. In France, BO’s secret illegitimate daughter Marina le Penis who assassinated her Founder to gain control of the FN (Fairy Nutcase) party, jumped with joy, almost knocking  the moon out of the sky.

    These blonds with their cheeky charm and charisma had gathered lots of fellow fervent racists around them and were oh-so cutely determined now to start signing up people who were only slightly racist, easily lied to and generally unhappy. And by using BO’s catchphrase “only I know why you’re unhappy and only I can fix it” suddenly they saw a real possibility of victory.

    In Germany, the AFD (Absolutely Fucking Dumb) Party saw reasons to strut. Their slogan of Hurray Hurray kick a Muslim a day from Bonn to Bombay, which had previously caused amusement at their geographical cultural and religious ignorance, now sent a thrill through the soul not just of the racists, but of the nearly racists too. Italy, Poland and the rest of Yurp, as the Americans call the continent to their right, are brimming with the disaffected, the duped, the dumb.

     

    So how come

    For me

    Sleepless in SD 

    I’d run

    And hide

    Somewhere inside

    With a gun?

     

    ……………………………………

     

    Actually I wouldn’t. I am, after all, a man of peace and I prefer laughter to war any day. I leave guns and wars to the Trumpists and the Brexiters, to the Wildmen and Penises.

    You know what makes me laugh? The Real Enemies, the cause of Globalisation and so many of the factors that make the Trumpists unhappy, are the big corporations. Like MacDonalds, Apple, Exxon Mobil, the big Pharmaceutical companies, all the big brands. Who put Profit before People; Shareholders before Customers or Employees; Profit before Pollution. Their egos before the Earth. And Trump and his rump have successfully diverted the blame onto immigration and, hilariously, “the swamp”, the establishment which is in power entirely at the behest of the corporations. The true villains could never be blamed by name – the people who are the Trumpists are their loving customers. And the irony is Trump is appointing some of the biggest swamp beasts to positions of power in his new administration. Once more, the people are being screwed. The future of mankind on the planet imperilled….

     

    Tee hee.

    Irony upon Irony.

    You know what, dear? 

    I’m outta here!

    Leaving soon! Packed! For the moon!

    I love you all.

    Sorry.

     

    Source: BBC World Service “The Inquiry”. http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p04fk268

    See their Facebook page, get the podcast from the website of BBCworld service.com; type Trumpton into YouTube to get the full deal on the cabinet.

  • Letter from America 5: Sixty Minutes of the Moonatic

    Letter from America 5: Sixty Minutes of the Moonatic

    Your Essential Briefing on the State of Trumpton Today!

    7pm on a Sunday night and the nation stares at their televisions. On 60 Minutes, a major current affairs programme on CBS, Lesley Stahl is interviewing Donald Trump. Outside, the moon is a massive saucer of light, making its closest visit to earth for 70 years.

    Imagine this happening in about 2,000 bce. The new tribal chief, having slaughtered the previous incumbent in a fierce and totally unfair fight, sits down with the shaman and is asked what he intends to do for the next four years, after which he will have to fight for his role. Without the TV cameras. The whole tribe sits around the pair, glued to their words. And then a massive saucer of glowing moonlight pops into the night – how would the shaman interpret this omen? Is this the Goddess showing her approval by glowing her brightest for 70 years?

    So is it a good omen? Trump and his family were fascinating. In production shots, a second before the formal interview begins (see CBS news website) his face shows a brief flash of anxiety, self consciousness. Humanity. And as the interview progressed I couldn’t help the impression that here is a man who finds himself entirely out of his depth. As each one of the more rabid right wing promises he had made was brought up, his answers made me think that quite a few of his barking ideas were simply strategic gambits, designed to pull more votes from rabid rightists – especially those who wouldn’t normally vote. When challenged, he’d use “I’m thinking about it” or, amusingly in the case of same-sex marriage, “It’s been decided. It’s a done deal”, signifying his new determination to appear LGBT friendly. On the Wall, he said “well it could be a fence”! On his promise to deport 11 million Mexican “illegals” he said he will deport “millions of criminals” so I have no idea whether that would add up to 11 million. On abortion however we can be in no doubt he will do his best to restrict or eliminate the right to choose. His Supreme Court appointment will be very much orientated to reversing Roe v Wade. Many commentators don’t think he will succeed – we shall see. He said “if a woman wants an abortion she had better go to another state”.

    Oh and Hilary can rest easy – his threat to arrest her is definitely on the back burner. With the fire turned off.

    Yes and parts of Obamacare will remain. He has promised a new system which will be “beautiful”. One of his favourite words. Of course he has no idea what it will be.

    On the environment- ? Forgive the pun. That’s all up in the air. And little or no mention of Muslims! All bets off. He wouldn’t say a word about his forthcoming approach to the problem of ISIS, trying to give the impression that all sorts of military actions are planned but must remain secret. As if he has the slightest idea as to what to do.

    His priority he said is to reduce taxes and get the economy going. Amusing when the USA is the fastest growing developed economy in the world, when employment is rising as is investment. And part of the main focus of his campaign has been, everything is broken and only Trump can fix it. Which, of course worked so well with people who had lost their manufacturing jobs as a result of globalisation. The irony being that employment amongst this group of people is on the rise, although not, of course, in manufacturing.

    He begs the electorate “don’t be afraid” and wants to “pull the nation together” .No doubt this comes straight from the acceptance speech Hillary threw away when she discovered all was lost. He stared straight into the camera saying that his message to those who are undertaking violence against Muslims, blacks, Jews, Mexicans is “Stop it!” A little like the inventor of the AK 47 calling on his customers to stop killing.

    There is no doubt he is vengeful. He blames “the media” for every setback he received. Heads will roll.

    So coming back to the point I made in my last blog. Do we have to be worried? Is this the most dangerous election since Germany 1932? Or will checks and balances save us from a shitstorm of rabid right nonsense from a divided and fully armed monster?

    Well, his first two appointments may be a clue. Rein Priebus (Chief of Staff)  is a Republican of the old guard, a Conservative in every sense. Probably on the saner side of the party. Whereas Stephen Bannon who will have the title “Chief Strategist” comes straight from his job at Breitbart, a “news” website which promotes views Atilla the Hun would have loved, if he was a schizophrenic with paranoid delusions.

    The future is another country. My overall impression really reinforces my belief that he has few if any beliefs. He will sway this way and that with his advisors and the latest events that rock his personal boat. He said that his greatest asset is his temperament. I think that’s the world’s greatest liability.

     

    I sure hope I’m wrong.

     

    For a good summary see http://time.com/4569534/donald-trump-60-minutes-interview/

  • Letter from America 4: Judge Not

    Letter from America 4: Judge Not

    “It’s the best tacos in town” she said in her wonderfully Mexican-accented American, so I had to believe her. After all, she should know. Her family comes from Tijuana, just over the border.

    I’ll call her S, because I don’t know if she would want herself on the web. A wonderfully gabby woman of an undisclosable age, she is extremely articulate well-informed. Her age is a mystery because, while she admits to children, grandchildren and even a great grandchild, she is very careful about giving too much detail lest I start doing the math. Her profession is  being a career, which is what she does for my mother on weekends. Full of energy, laughter, ideas and a determination to “give mother a good time”, she happily embarks on a series of adventures with my 87 year old Alzheimer’s infected parent  in tow. To movies, to the beach, and to tacos bars.
    So having sat through Trolls, a perfectly good movie for six year olds, that’s where we went. Probably influenced by the presence of her granddaughter.
    While we waited for our reputedly best tacos, mother embarked on her default program of making friends. Extending an impossibly thin arm in the direction of the next table, she announced to the bemused trio who were happily scoffing delicious highly spiced foreign food, “we haven’t been introduced. My name is Valerie.”
    My dear mother is a delight to go out with. While the immensely cruel bug in her brain has chewed away most of her memory, what’s left is love. She adores everybody. No-one is safe from the hugger-mother, especially children, most of whom return the affection.
    And the diners responded with politeness by shaking hands and  exchanging names. Then, intrigued as are most Americans we meet by her delightful BBC English accent, the inevitable question “Where are you guys from?”
    Of course mother has forgotten so I briefly explained our respective provenance. South Africa, Britain, San Diego. And of course, S being Mexican. “Where are you from?”
    To my surprise the woman responded, “Oh, we are from Mexico. Twenty years ago.” There had been little trace of an accent, so I was slightly surprised and a little embarrassed.
    The woman was well dressed, rather better than most of the La Jollians in the place, as if she was about to go to a smart gallery opening in New York, say. In her forties, perhaps. Figure-fitted red dress, very attractive and self-confident. The other woman too, lipstick, silk scarf, tight-filling fifties-style flowered dress. Tasteful, both of them. Elegant. The man looked like a professor of, perhaps, Geology. Grey, dignified, moustache, a slight air of deshabille one might expect from an academic. Interestingly and perfectly irrelevant in every way, he wore one of those medical collars you get when suspected of suffering from whiplash, for when the insurance company come to inspect. He was certainly uncomfortable and tetchy. Frankly all three looked as if they had stepped out of one of those Cary Grant films filmed in Monte Carlo or Rome.
    I was relieved. Here were people who would pile into the Trump-bashing bandwagon with us, people with whom one could bond and chat and have a good mutual moan.
    “Oh,” I said sympathy dripping from my still untacoed lips, “So you are pretty devastated I suppose.”
    “By what?” a pert and challenging response.
    “Well,” surprised, “By this whole Trump thing?”
    “Why should I be?” she asked.
    I didn’t know what to say. S stared at her – they were so unalike. S with her scraggy ponytail, practical dress, free of makeup. Her surprise and annoyance palpable. And the woman with her makeup and sophistication.
    “Well….” I said
    “We need a change,” she said. “It’s too long we’ve had a Democrat in charge. He will do good for this country.”
    Shit, I thought. Another turkey looking forward to Christmas.
    “Besides, I like him. It’s time we kicked all the illegals out.” So once again, I was reminded of the Indian, Pakistani and Polish people I had spoken to in England who were pro Brexit. Amazing. Considering themselves safely British, being in possession of nationality gained in this or the previous generation,  they regarded other immigrants as a threat. Their contempt for asylum seekers was particularly galling. And I never hesitated to reveal that I myself had been an asylum seeker, as had some of their forebears.
    I needed to stay polite. we were in public. They had been charming to mother.
    So weakly I said, “He will build a wall…”
    “Never,” she replied. “It will never happen. And if it does, that’s not terrible. More jobs for us.”
    “He will appoint another Supreme Court judge. They will destroy Choice!”
    “We are Catholics,” she said. “That’s what we want!”
    “He doesn’t believe in Climate Change…”
    “Ok, that’s not right. But he won’t be able to change anything there. You will see!”
    At this point she gave a huge Audrey Hepburn smile, gathered up her companions and stood to go. “Lovely to meet you”, she said.
    “Darling, you can’t go”, said mother. We haven’t even been introduced!”
    And she stood unsteadily and gave the woman a great big hug and a kiss.

  • Letter from America Part 3 – Global Warning?

    Image – bigphotophoria

    The temperature today is predicted to reach 26 degrees and there is a Beach Alert for high waves, rip tides, fierce undertow. You are advised not to swim unless you have gills fins and are in fact a fish. Even the seals look apprehensive. So I guess Nature has heard the news…
    Yesterday I sat on the beach with my nephew and watched as a bloody sunset raged against the sky. Big waves turned vermillion and, as they retreated, left a coruscating multicoloured sheen on the sand which disappeared as quickly as a fleeing thief. Until the sun itself popped below the horizon, extinguished by the sea, exhausted after having given such a spectacular performance.
    During this show (apart from awed silences when the scene was too amazing for words) Nephew and I discussed Spiritual things and mused on meditation and why so many people have no idea as to what is going on. Including ourselves of course. He is 28 and about to become a teacher in a high school catering for students from very poor backgrounds. “Catering” is a pun by the way. A poor pun as he is teaching nutrition and food studies.
    So I shared thoughts on how to engage, motivate, excite kids while keeping the right distance from them. It really is such an important job in these days of the plague of obesity and the power of the corporate lobbies pushing addictive drugs like sugar, fat, processed foods, chemicals. Having taught for 22 years I had many mistakes to share…teaching is a learning process for all concerned.
    He described his tutor at university – a delightfully intelligent charismatic woman most trainee teachers adore. And in a tutorial, she shared her support of the Trump. He was devastated. An idol had bitten the dust. I know the feeling! The majority of my friends were Remainers – wanting the UK to stay within the European Union. And if one were to admit to being a Brexiter, suddenly my relationship with that person would change. Frankly, I have to admit to a loss of respect, an annoyance which would rise from stomach to throat at each meeting. That somebody I thought a friend could be taken in by lies and emotional arguments! Could consider themselves part of a group consisting of gurning hypocrites like Farage, Johnson and below all, Gove!
    So he experienced exactly the same feeling for his tutor.
    And yet strange things are happening. The Donald had a cosy chat with Obama. He now says he will not destroy the whole of Obamacare, just some of it. He was pictured with a crowd of LGBT people looking remarkably friendly. His Wall seems to have gone the way of Jericho’s. As I said before, he will betray his key supporters. Sister says, what if he’s just a closet liberal in disguise, determined to use every dirty trick there is to get into power (defeating Hillary who he is convinced would trigger WW3) where he would work tirelessly for the Left agenda…yeh right! My feeling is that he actually has no opinions whatsoever except for a desire to be president. Once in the role, he will shift all over the place, driven by whim and some of the people around him.
    If I’m right the Republicans will be split down the middle and he will achieve very little of his original agenda. The Democrats will filibuster him into a state of Narcissistic fury. Many people here predict he won’t last four years.
    We’ll see. If, of course, we last that long. He has already said he will start to unravel environmental protection legislation and it’s now 27 degrees…in November!
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