Because this ain’t nearly as “quick” as I intended it to be, without further ado:
Just another mass hysteria
The basis for most mass hysterias and conspiracy theories is their inventors fervently believe they’re so remarkable and consequential that everyone’s out to get them. And it’s always the usual hyper-evil suspects who’ve inevitably set their sights on their hapless quarry. So, regardless of any specific incident, simply fill in the following blanks and you’re good to go:
“Those malicious _______ are clearly the result of a heinous plot by the ________!
In this particular case, we’ll fill in the first blank with the word “drones,” and you can choose the second possibility from this comprehensive list of typical menaces:
- The gays
- The Iranian government
- The Democrats
- The Republicans
- The transgenders
- The CIA
- The Russians
- The Canadians
- The Cubans
- The Norwegians
- The Chinese
- Terrorist sleeper cells
- The orcs
- The White Walkers
- The Romulans
- The Jews
- The Catholics
- The Muslims
- The Presbyterians (you really have to watch them)
- Al Qaeda
- ISIS
- The Freemasons
- The Radio City Rockettes
- Taylor Swift
- Oprah
- The Shriners
- Kane County judges (there’s one in particular)
It doesn’t matter which one you pick because the “obviously” nefarious entity is immaterial to the equation. All that matters is that they’re out to get you because everyone always is.
Having received billions and billions of pre-November MAGA texts, this is the same “you are critical to the cause” tactic conservative messengers apply to mobilize the moronic faithful. For example, “Donald Trump is personally saddened that you failed to reply to our previous plea. Please send us 10 bucks so you don’t disappoint him again!” And the sad lonely old white male idiots fall for it faster than a New Jersey housewife can call in another drone report.
But the truth is none of us are that important. Donald Trump doesn’t give a shit about you – or anyone for that matter. As the great Chris Rock tells his children, “The second you leave this door no one gives a fuck about you!” And the bleeps who fall for this stupid shit are dumb as rocks because no one’s out to get them because they have absolutely nothing to offer and our fictional evildoers have much better things to do with their fake time.
As far as the New Jersey drones go, first it’s New Jersey, an area that repels MENSA like garlic deters vampires. If the Iranians really are involved, let’s just cede that state to them and be done with it as long as they agree to take Snooki, her friends, and any real housewives.
And second, if these “drones” really harbored an iniquitous intent, do you really fuckin’ think they’d have their fucking lights on so generally toothless people could photograph them at night? This hysteria amounts to nothing more than the same 100 people reporting the same small, manned aircraft as it makes its approach to the local airport.
Not to mention there are almost a million registered drones in this country and likely twice the undocumented variety. I guarantee you that once the kiddies got ahold of this nitwit adult delirium, they’re playing it for all it’s worth. With no nearby scenery to provide that in-flight perspective, a 24-inch object suddenly becomes a 30-foot drone operated by an Iranian mothership anchored just off the east coast
Get a life people! This is just another in a long line of mass hysterias that have plagued humanity since Grog swore the fireflies were threatening him via coded messages.
All I can say is, P.T. Barnum was dead on.
What? Chris Lauzen doesn’t get along with someone? No!
Since I never want to be perceived as anything remotely resembling her, I turned to my slew of journalist friends in an effort to determine whether KC Chronicle “reporter” Brenda Schory’s recent story on Treasurer Chris Lauzen’s failure to get along with yet another high-level staffer was newsworthy.
The result was unanimous – no, it was not.
But because Schory is so bitter, spiteful, and completely in love with Chris, she can’t help but write about her fantasy boyfriend. Well…that’s what she does when KC GOP Chairman Andro Lerario isn’t whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
The real news story would be if Treasurer Lauzen actually managed to get along with someone – anyone – for longer than 15 minutes.
And speaking of the Treasurer…
Please understand I’ve only begun to apply the requisite due diligence, but I’m getting word that the Treasurer’s investments, and potentially some office procedures, are the subject of an audit.
Though my sources are generally accurate, without more proof, it ain’t a story. The word “audit” can mean any number of things, too. But if the story has merit, the fact that Lauzen’s running his office with all the transparency of a local CIA branch would certainly precipitate some outside intervention.
Perhaps the Treasurer might want to clear this one up himself.
Going way too far to prove a point!
My loyal readers would be happy to remind you how I regularly cover Geneva’s deteriorating infrastructure. That specifically includes the streets, sidewalks, and east-side sewer system. My theory has been, while the overly progressive mayor and city council are preoccupied with:
- No mow Mays
- Anything with the word “solar” in it
- Pride fire hydrants
- Home Rule
- Pride flags
- Plastic grocery bag taxes
- Oak trees that weren’t in Geneva
- Home Rule
- Diversity initiatives
- Identity politics
- Boycotting local businesses
- Home Rule
- Raising taxes
- Raising fees, and
- Home Rule
the city’s streets and sidewalks are starting to look like something you might find on a good day in Damascus. And I just went a bit too far in a unilateral effort to prove my point.
There I was, innocently walking my dogs Friday morning when near tragedy nearly struck. Given the biting east wind and balmy 14-degree temps, I thought it best to stick with the more protected neighborhood sidewalks while perambulating at double-time to deter frostbite. I’d never noticed the inch tall disparity between the descending crosswalk and the curb at the southwest corner of Adamson and Cornwall, but my left foot found it as I attempted to cross the street.
Immediately after the dreaded muffled thud, the mind hyper-focuses to the point where everything starts moving in slow motion. For the first third of the fall I thought, “Don’t worry, you got this. All you have to do is right the ship.” But by the middle third of the descent, the internal process shifted to, “Oh fuck! I’m going to fall and this can’t be a good thing.” The third and final stage consisted of a reasonable attempt to break my fall which was devilishly thwarted by getting tangled up in two dog leashes.
So, down I went down smack dab in the middle of the street. I suppose I should be grateful that the looming UPS truck had a stop to make before that corner. After I laid there for a few seconds considering whether I might have broken myself, I let loose with the kind of epithet laced tirade that would’ve made Mayor Burns jealous.
That’s the point at which one of my dogs, upset with my newly horizontal status, started whimpering in sympathy. But then the other one looked at me like, “You’re not hurt. Get the fuck up and let’s finish the damn walk!”
So, I managed to gather myself together, rise up from the tarmac, brush myself off, and slowly tackle the now-short sojourn home.
The good news – which surprises even me – is, three days later I have no bruises and only a minimal amount of pain, which ain’t bad for an old man who just fell six feet onto the pavement. As much as I’d like to pursue a claim against the City to make the greater point, it won’t be necessary.
Though ironically, aren’t those crosswalks meant to assist handicapped individuals, not create more of them?
But seriously Geneva, if an athlete like me can fall on an uneven sidewalk, it doesn’t take much to imagine what might happen to any of the Crossings’ residents who frequent our end of the Fisher Farms subdivision. So, why don’t we put away all those ridiculous city council boondoggles and focus on our sagging infrastructure for a few years?
Just a (reasonable) thought!
Good bye Ryan Poles, we hardly knew you at all
Though last night’s drubbing at the hands of the Vikings is hardly something to celebrate, it did put the nail in Ryan Poles NFL GM career coffin, an exit that’s long overdue. Poles may have walked around with that “Watchoo talking about Willis?” look, but it should’ve been a clear indication that he had all the football management skills of Gary Coleman.
And suddenly Matt Eberflus doesn’t look so bad, does he? Were it not for his unfortunate penchant for blowing games in the final minute, he’s actually a reasonable head coach. The best evidence of my theory is, whenever a team fires an unpopular head coach, they generally experience the kind of performance bounce that sports bettors love to pounce on.
But not da Bears! Nope! Prior to last night’s Twin Cities debacle, Chicago maintained an unimpressive, but hardly epic, -11-point differential. Ah! But in just TWO games under the inept Thomas Brown, the scoring difference is a gut-wrenching -43. And that kind of incompetence takes real skill.
Ah well. At least I’m making money betting against them.