Trump Should Ignore Inaugural Protestors, Critics, & Cry-Babies and Party Like Andy Jackson

The true Lion of African America, Frederick Douglas once said, “If There Is No Struggle, There Is No Progress.”  President-elect Donald Trump struggles to calm Hollywood, CNN, MSNBC, Mark Ruffalo, Judd Aptow, Debra Messing and the cast of West Wing.  Looks like progress, once President 45 gets past the Inauguration.

PC and boneless carbon footprints must have their bubble wrap.  Bruce Springsteen will not play at the White House.  I am not sure that he was asked, but that's cool.

I'd be thrilled with Rick Kay and the Allnighters!

If I threw a party and the local COEXIST crank and NPR addict refused to grace my heaving board of delicacies like  " lobster de Bretagne in a sauce of lobster roe and caviar; bass with cockle jelly and a jus mariniere; Challans duck breast with seared foie gras in a bitter-chocolate and orange-powder sauce; and tarte Tatin and other French desserts, all of it served with well-chosen wines,"  I would not weep.  More for my guests, and no goof taking ziplocks home.

If the pole dancers from PoleKatz scorned my invitation to pick up a few dollars entertaining my guests on Deck Hickey, because of my forty plus years of service to inner city youth and daily Mass attendance, I'd hire Terry McEldowney and Whitey O'Day for some wholesome sing-alongs.

If you hate me, swell.  Take it on the heel and toe.  If you believe that I have 666 on my forehead and a family of five in my basement freezer, let me get you a drink . . .Six pack to go!

Why worry about who is not attending your party?

So long as dips are tasty and edible: not knocking off the caviar and boring people through a wall, all is well.

I get up a very special cherry and lime flavor of bile whenever I hear or read about some nobody vowing to avoid Trump's Inauguration, or intention to disrupt the same.  Who cares?  Do it. Keep it to yourself and do it, already.

Others are 'serious' - Reds, Anarchists, Michael 'Michigan Fats' Moore, International Solidarity Movement and Bill Moyers.  No sweat. American Reds tend to be entitled suburban sissies and homely girls who can't get a date on a bet.

Most are about as sincere in disrupting the Inauguration as they were about blowing the country ( no, I do not mean Madonna) after November 8th, 2016.

Mr. Trump responds to these silly saps with Tweets.  Why bother

At most, Mr. Trump should respond to such threats with a Tweet of thanks, "Dear Humanity for ProgressStandUS for US, Melania and I delighted that you will be unwilling to join the fun with us.  I will give your Goody bags to the homeless. Keep a good thought, if you have one.  Don"

Donald Trump should party like it's 1829!

That was the wildest party the old Executive Mansion ever tossed.  Andy Jackson had concluded an ugly, divisive and violent Presidential Campaign:

To set the scene, President Jackson had been involved in two nasty presidential campaigns against John Quincy Adams. Jackson lost the 1824 race in a runoff election in the House; he won the 1828 presidential campaign in one of the dirtiest, meanest campaigns in American history.
Both sides were ruthless in the campaign, including charges from Adams’ side (which weren’t new) about the character of Jackson’s wife, Rachel. A month after the election, Rachel Jackson died, and the president blamed his political enemies and their rumors for her death.
Jackson had a huge, popular following, and his inauguration was a sea change for American politics.
A crowd of 10,000 to 20,000 people showed up at the Capitol for the inauguration, some traveling from 500 miles away for the event. The sight stunned Washington society and Jackson’s political enemies, who already feared “mob rule” under Jackson.
The 61-year-old Jackson gave his inaugural address and promised to do the best job for the people. But the first crowd control problem happened after his speech. A cable snapped that held back the crowd in front of the president, who was on the Capitol’s steps.
His team ushered President Jackson back inside the Capitol for his own protection. But then the president mounted his own horse, and he rode through the crowd to the White House.
Another crowd was already outside and inside the mansion, as the tradition of the day made inauguration day an “open house” for the White House. In theory, anyone could show up, shake the president’s hand, and maybe have some punch and dessert.

My kind of party.  No engraved invitations, just pack the hall with happy people.

As it is, January 20th will come and go. President Trump will take office and the boneless will continue to go blue in face.

When the Party is over, get to work -there is a lot of it.



Me?  I'll be taking in the Brother Rice v. Bishop McNamara Basketball game in Kankakee, Illinois*!

*Basketball SV @ Bishop McNamara H.S. (Frosh @ 4:15PM / Sophs. @ 5:45PM / Varsity @ 7PM)
Fri, January 20, 4:15pm – 5:15pm
Where 550 W. Brookmont Kankakee, IL 60901
Facility: Bishop McNamara H.S.  FROM: 4:15 PM  Visit http://schedules.schedulestar.com/Brother-Rice-High-School-Chicago-IL/day/01-20-2017 for more information!

Trampas or the Virginian: Trump and The Spooks and the Supine Media

 

Sworn Donald Trump enemy John McCain admitted Wednesday that he passed the dossier of claims of a Russian blackmail plot against the president-elect.
The Arizona senator issued a public statement amid mounting questions of his exact role in the affair - and how a document riddled with errors and unverifiable claims came to be published.
'Late last year, I received sensitive information that has since been made public,' he said.
'Upon examination of the contents, and unable to make a judgment about their accuracy, I delivered the information to the Director of the FBI.
'That has been the extent of my contact with the FBI or any other government agency regarding this issue.' The Daily Mail

“the document was prepared for political opponents of Trump by a person who is understood to be a former British intelligence agent.” Ben Smith Buzzfeed

Super. Pretty wet out there with all the leaks, Golden Showers, Sobbing spooks and CNN unabe to fathom the fact that the Electoral College worked the way it was supposed to work.

So yesterday the media and the clubby spooks got a nose bleed.

I immediately thought of Owen Wister's great novel - The Virginian.  This is a novel more about the constructive and community forming application of words, than it is about the single show-down and gun play.

The character known as the Virginian is opposed to the glib, cowardly and shameless Trampas.  The Virginian will allow a friend, a person with whom he has shared danger, laughs and a few drinks, to call him an S.O.B. any minute of the day.  He will not tolerate, however, any malicious tag to sit in his aura for a second.

Five or six players sat over in the corner at a round table where counters were piled. Their eyes were close upon their cards, and one seemed to be dealing a card at a time to each, with pauses and betting between. Steve was there and the Virginian; the others were new faces.

“No place for amatures,” repeated the voice; and now I saw that it was the dealer’s. There was in his countenance the same ugliness that his words conveyed.
“Who’s that talkin’?” said one of the men near me, in a low voice.
“Trampas.”
“What’s he?”
“Cow-puncher, bronco-buster, tin-horn, most anything.”
“Who’s he talkin’ at?”
“Think it’s the black-headed guy he’s talking at.”
“That ain’t supposed to be safe, is it?”
“Guess we’re all goin’ to find out in a few minutes.”
“Been trouble between ‘em?”
“They’ve not met before. Trampas don’t enjoy losin’ to a stranger.”
“Fello’s from Arizona, yu’ say?”
“No. Virginia. He’s recently back from havin’ a look at Arizona. Went down there last year for a change. Works for the Sunk Creek outfit.” And then the dealer lowered his voice still further and said something in the other man’s ear, causing him to grin. After which both of them looked at me.
There had been silence over in the corner; but now the man Trampas spoke again.
“AND ten,” said he, sliding out some chips from before him. Very strange it was to hear him, how he contrived to make those words a personal taunt. The Virginian was looking at his cards. He might have been deaf.
“AND twenty,” said the next player, easily.
The next threw his cards down.
It was now the Virginian’s turn to bet, or leave the game, and he did not speak at once.
Therefore Trampas spoke. “Your bet, you son-of-a—.”
The Virginian’s pistol came out, and his hand lay on the table, holding it unaimed. And with a voice as gentle as ever, the voice that sounded almost like a caress, but drawling a very little more than usual, so that there was almost a space between each word, he issued his orders to the man Trampas: “When you call me that, SMILE.” And he looked at Trampas across the table.
Yes, the voice was gentle. But in my ears it seemed as if somewhere the bell of death was ringing; and silence, like a stroke, fell on the large room. All men present, as if by some magnetic current, had become aware of this crisis. In my ignorance, and the total stoppage of my thoughts, I stood stock-still, and noticed various people crouching, or shifting their positions.
“Sit quiet,” said the dealer, scornfully to the man near me. “Can’t you see he don’t want to push trouble? He has handed Trampas the choice to back down or draw his steel.”
Then, with equal suddenness and ease, the room came out of its strangeness. Voices and cards, the click of chips, the puff of tobacco, glasses lifted to drink,—this level of smooth relaxation hinted no more plainly of what lay beneath than does the surface tell the depth of the sea.
For Trampas had made his choice. And that choice was not to “draw his steel.” If it was knowledge that he sought, he had found it, and no mistake! We heard no further reference to what he had been pleased to style “amatures.” In no company would the black-headed man who had visited Arizona be rated a novice at the cool art of self-preservation.
One doubt remained: what kind of a man was Trampas? A public back-down is an unfinished thing,—for some natures at least. I looked at his face, and thought it sullen, but tricky rather than courageous.
Something had been added to my knowledge also. Once again I had heard applied to the Virginian that epithet which Steve so freely used. The same words, identical to the letter. But this time they had produced a pistol. “When you call me that, SMILE!” So I perceived a new example of the old truth, that the letter means nothing until the spirit gives it life. The Virginian Owen Wister (emphases my own)

The Media makes me want to shower.  The spooks ?  Who knows from spooks?

David Wallace-Wells is Not Happy! Trump Has America and Ain't Giving it Back!

Thus says the LORD:
Woe to the city, rebellious and polluted,
to the tyrannical city!
She hears no voice,
accepts no correction;
In the LORD she has not trusted,
to her God she has not drawn near. ZEP 3:1-2, 9-13 

The city was always an asylum. On television on Election Night, the world (sic) they used was bubble. But what a bubble.
New Yorkers woke up on November 8 in what seems now like a fairy-tale fog, convinced, as ever, that the future belonged to us. By midnight, the world looked very different, the country very far away (and the future, too). Eighty percent of us had voted against the man who won, and 80 percent, it seemed, were already hatching plans to leave — for Canada or Berlin or anywhere else we imagined we could live safely among the like-minded. That was when the text messages began coming in from old friends in Wisconsin and Texas and North Carolina and Missouri. They were watching the same returns we were, in the same apocalyptic panic, and all making desperate plans to come to New York. For them, the city was still the same fairy tale. David Wallace-Wells in New York  (emphasis and parenthetical my own)

Boy, are people unhappy that Trump won. I believe that David Wallace-Wells, the author of the passage above and editor of New York magazine, as well as contributing writer to The Nation, Salon, Slate, Atlantic and every other tony, high-brow, damn-your-eyes soapbox of the elite in this country, was so upset that he screwed up the second sentence ( world, for word), as well as got the date wrong for the Dawn of The Donald.

Hey, I am no one to point fingers at the odd typo, or slight misrepresentation, but I am only a 'blogger' and a working stiff. I live in Chicago's Morgan Park, kind of like Queens in New York City. I voted before November 8th, and I was surprised by the election results as Mr. Wallace-Wells, but for different reasons.

Wallace-Wells weeps of waking November 8th in the firm belief that Hillary would continue the defense of abortion, offensive art, illegal aliens, religious suppression in all things, Marxist economics, globalism, endless wars and the American oligarchy.  The Dream denied.  Dang.

That said, Mr. Wallace-Wells writes a pretty nice little rant filled with good-old anti-Irish race cards and KKK memes for those of us voted off-the island of Manhattan by Wallace-Wells and calling the magically once far-flung personalities on the island of Manhattan to flock to the Resistance!

Before Eric Garner and before the ground-zero mosque, before Rudy Giuliani called Chris Ofili’s The Holy Virgin Mary “sick stuff” and before Trump called for the execution of the Central Park Five; before Abner Louima and before stop-and-frisk and before the Crown Heights riots; before Stonewall began with a police raid; before redlining; before the 1927 Klan riot, when Fred Trump was arrested wearing white; before 38 were killed by a 1920 bomb detonated by anarchists outside J. P. Morgan; before 120 died, mostly free black men, mostly at the hands of Irish New Yorkers raging through the city, resisting enlistment in Lincoln’s war to free their brothers; before all that, when Peter Minuit of New Amsterdam legend established the city as a sanctuary for mercenary commerce on a seaboard being settled, in every other colony, by religious ideologues, it was not by war or raid or smallpox but merely by submitting an exploitatively low bid. Those 24 dollars were consecrated into acquisitive legend almost immediately — a fabulous deal, a terrific deal, and also, sort of, a con. It set a template New Yorkers would emulate for centuries, as the city’s big-tent open-mindedness covered something darker: violence of certain groups against others, neighbors exploiting neighbors for the prize of living among one another and maybe even conquering the world. This makes for a very particular kind of tolerance. We tolerate living around bad guys doing bad things, in part because we can always tell them to fuck off. And often do.
Millions of dreamer-hustlers came anyway — from 1892 to 1954, 12 million through Ellis Island alone. Elsewhere in the country, new arrivals had set up shop and claimed primacy where they landed. Here, newer waves just kept coming, swamping the claims of those who came before, wave after wave, Irish and Germans followed by Russian Jews and Armenians and Poles and Czechs and Slovaks and Greeks, tidal waves leveling into ethnic palimpsests of communities so enormous and elaborate they might have been called whole civilizations just 500 years before (Kleindeutschland, the Five Points, Central Park’s black Seneca Village). When the country closed its borders in the spirit of “racial hygiene,” the immigrants were followed by American freaks, fleeing suburbs and parents and finding refuge here.
Native-born New Yorkers can seem precocious marvels to newcomers, but they rarely hold the city’s gaze for very long — ask Andy Warhol (from Pittsburgh) or Madonna (Detroit), Zora Neale Hurston (from Notasulga, Alabama) or Langston Hughes (Joplin, Missouri), Truman Capote (New Orleans) or Dorothy Parker (Long Branch, New Jersey), or even Andrew Carnegie (Scotland) and J. P. Morgan himself (Hartford, Connecticut). Nobody knows any Dutch, which meant nobody has really come first, when you think about it, which means nobody really owns the city, even the obscenely rich who talk like they do. The city is so much a hot spring of immigrants and migrants and arrivistes, self-inventors and refuge-­seekers and self-mythologizers, that no one can ever feel quite comfortable or secure, no matter how royally statused. The churn is eternal and the envy general, like antibodies to complacency. No one is immune to insecurity, not the sons of tycoons or the daughters of mayors or the offspring of artists and musicians raised as downtown royalty on lower Fifth Avenue. Not even the golden-haired boy born into a real-estate fortune in the glorious sun of the white man’s mid-century boom who built a gold-plated empire for himself out of the resentment he felt staring out across the East River at Manhattan from Queens. And who wanted, even more than to conquer the Manhattan skyline, to watch his own tabloid fantasy become “real” in the pages of the New York Post. BEST SEX I’VE EVER HAD is surely, even now, the greatest day of the president-elect’s entire life.

Yep, elites ain't happy.

In a few days, after someone reads this piece to Bruce Dold, I expect that Mary Schmich and Eric Zorn will do a series of similar chit-chatty exchanges about how stupid, ugly, racist, homophobic, non-Dreamers living in Portage Park, Mount Greenwood, Peotone and Crescent City worked that Russian fake news on all of the Hamilton Attendees, Pastor Pfleger Partisans, and Oak Park Rangers making Trump supreme, though losing the popular vote. Damn Alexander Hamiliton, the real one not  Lin-Manuel Miranda, who should be on the Ten Spot rather than that Federalist, and his Electoral College!!!!  

It hurts.

Hey, It gets better.

Journalists will be breaking each others necks to see who will write the Rise and Fall of the Third Reich of this millennium, and activists can sit again at the feet of Bill Ayers and learn about timers and detonators.  It's all good.

Anyway,  David Wallace-Wells invites other Cities, noting that New York is not Guam, but the Philippines:

And we also know that we are not in fact alone — that New York is not an island but an archipelago. Our mayor has resister-cousins in Chicago and Los Angeles and Providence, San Francisco and Seattle and Minneapolis — and those are just a few of the cities mobilizing themselves as immigrant sanctuaries. We know that the number of Democratic counties has shrunk over the last decade or two, as entrepreneurs and other hustlers flooded into cities, and we know that the counties that went blue in this election account for nearly two-thirds of the American economy. We also know that Peter Thiel was basically the only Trumper in Silicon Valley. If you have to live in a bubble, really, you could do worse.

Kerr-Plop, Rahm is already cutting deals and pencil necked geeks of the Valley are paying court to the Grand Fuhrer of Wallace Wells' thought piece. Owwww.

I noticed that David Wallace Wells never mentions Queens.  

Trump and the Battered, Dipped and Fried Media: "Who Wants Rainbow Cones????"

Trump tweets* and people who expect hushed attention every time they open their yaps, or scribble deep thoughts, media types go off the rails bat-guano like a crowd of eight-year olds within earshot of my late uncle Bart Hickey.

Bart would watch his nieces and nephews at play in Grand Pa Hickey's patch of Crinnie Hill, his yard along the north side of his house at 7535 S. Marshfield, and decide to wind them up.

Bart was the tallest of the Hickey males and looked every bit the Korean War Marine Staff Sergeant that he had been, as well as a D.I., before his return to Chicago.  He was Hollywood handsome and full of the devil. Not unlike this guy 

"Goofs and Split-tails!  Who wants Rainbow Cones?"

Who would not?  Since 1926, Rainbow Cone has been the south side Chicago Ice Cream Mecca, May the Prophet Bless it.

Ice Cream had been a treat, rather than part of the American food pyramid. . .Rainbow Cones!!!!  and any chance to raise the bar on the Good Humor truck or Dixie Cups from Hamilton Dairy was a release of juvenile passion known only to my generation, but appreciable to the broader culture.

Uncle Bart would pack his Buick full of Hickeys, Brennans and Winters no less than twelve at a time with a few in the trunk and drive way out to 9223 S. Western on the edge of the City - Ultima Thule in our provincial Visitation, St. Killian's, Little Flower and St. Tommy More Parish experiences.

Rainbow Cones are towers of Orange sherbet, Pistachio, Palmer House vanilla with cherries and walnuts,, Strawberry and chocolate ice creams wrapped in a Belgian Waffle come . It ain't ice cream; it's Ambrosia.  Rainbow Cone the establishment looks like an old Spanish hacienda, right out of Zorro and remains open only from late March to early November.

Once we were baited, Uncle Bart would periodically shout out, " Who wants Rainbow Cones" and get the boomeranged universal " WE DO!!!!!!!!!!!!"

To which he'd reply, " Hey, who wouldn't?" and then go off to work.

Or, he might toss that one out at tender moments when Grandpa Hickey was regaling us of with tales of his strength, " I picked that Connacht bullock up over the wall by the ring in nose and he was that happy to be on the good side of Conway's line over with a better family, so."

" Who wants Rainbow Cones?"

Adios, to you, old Turkeybird!  Nice story. We're getting Rainbow Cones (sotta voce)

Only to wait, wait and wait. Are we ggoing to Rainbow Cones, Uncle Bart?

" Sure, when it snows in the Philippines!"

Cruel, hell no it was funny as hell.  We got toughened up to a world where one can not have everything.  In the words of Steven Wright, "where would we put it?"

Winding up eight olds is funny. Winding up Anderson Cooper, David Brooks, E. J. Dionne and the New York Times is hilarious. What a pack of dip-wads!

Donald Trump tweets to the media, like Uncle Bart tested his tribe with offers of Rainbow Cones.

The fun was in the watching.  I'd love a Rainbow Cone, right now!

* Trump's tweets to the media remind me of this great scene from the The Guard.

Homeboy Bruce Dold Wants President 45 and His Whole Fam-Damily Right Where Bruce Can Find Him!

Urban League CEO James Compton, former Tribune Editor Gerould Kern and Trib editor Bruce Dold, former Governor Pat Quinn and Mayor Rahm Emanuel in simpler times.

"Our advice to the Trumps is to move, sooner rather than later, and avoid returning home often. That approach would greatly ease the trouble in Manhattan, simplify the task of protecting the family, minimize costs for the federal government and New York City, and reassure the public that Trump will give the presidency his full attention." Bruce Dold et al

The Editorial genius of that great metropolitan newspaper, the one that endorsed Governor Hemp of Allepo, wants President-elect Donald Trump and Melania and the kid right where Bruce Dold can find them.

The Chicago Tribune did not want Francis Cardinal George to live in the Archbishop's Residence, bought and paid for by Chicago Catholics.  Cardinal George wanted to sell the place in 2002, by was over-ruled by his flock and the Tribune and the rest of the supine Chicago media cat-called his home until the man went to Heaven.  How many times did Manya " The Seeker" Brachear pooh-poo its opulence while poor black girls like Dorothy Brown had to struggle until the caged bird sang?  Lots.

The White House is different.  It is a dump to a man like Trump.  If Bruce Dold took a call from gilded Trump Tower, NYC, how in the name of Sweet Fanny Adams would he report such a missive?

You see things get confusing . If Trump is staying in Manhattan, how in the name of Sweet Fanny Adams will The Chicago Tribune report any executive pronouncements with its iron-clad accuracy - like Dewey Wins!

Bruce Dold is a simple man who likes his politics served up steaming, warm and plentiful and placed right in front of him by Rahm Emanuel, Forrest Claypool, Dick Durbin, Pat Quinn, Cardinal Cupich, Rev. Jackson, Pastor Pfleger, Toni Preckwinkle and Mr, & Mrs. Bob Creamer.

Keep things simple. Bruce is simple.  Rahm says something and the Dold abides.  Keep the narrative.

Prose often is required to apply rhetorical devices to keep readers from falling asleep on the Red Line, or finding another news source. Rhetorical devices are keen ways of expressing the obvious - if Mitt Romney says that Vladimir Putin is a dangerous man.  A really funny guy might say, " The 80's are calling and want their foreign policy back." That is so cool and he's a community organizer!

So, newspaper guys like Bruce Dold need to use things like metonymy and synechdoche.

Metonymy is figure of speech (rhetorical device) in which one word or phrase is substituted for another with which it is closely associated, like Hollywood, the Pentagon and the White House.

Metonymy's sister device is Synechdoche, or using a part of something to represent the whole, as in " All Hands on Deck,!"  Bruce would not see a bunch of hands flopping from keel to forecastle via ladders and passageways, or perhaps he might given his endorsement of Gary Johnson.

Keeping the Trump family in the White House makes things easy for Bruce, Mary Schmich and Eric Zorn.

The White House called, Bruce Dold!

Just kidding.

When Will The Cast of "Hamilton" Sing The Praises of the Electoral College?

"Talents for low intrigue, and the little arts of popularity, may alone suffice to elevate a man to the first honors in a single State; but it will require other talents, and a different kind of merit, to establish him in the esteem and confidence of the whole Union, or of so considerable a portion of it as would be necessary to make him a successful candidate for the distinguished office of President of the United States" Federalist # 68 by Al Hamilton

 “It’s an incredible feat of storytelling about the fight for the heart and soul of our very nation. It’s a look at history that feels immediately relevant today. It’s a beautiful piece of art with empathy to spare.” Hillary Clinton from Victory for Hillary 2016 Hamilton Fundraiser*

The Both Coast-ers, who adored the production, hip-hop songs and diverse casting of the smash Broadway and national hit musical Hamilton, which funded the Hillary Clinton Campaign, really hate that old, antiquated Electoral College.  I include the western shore of Lake Michigan in the Both Coasters demographic, as Cook County and Chicago has been wholly unaffected by the election of Donald J. Trump - President-elect of the United States.

From Barbara Boxer to CNN, from Keith Olbermann to Eric Zorn, The Electoral College must go the way of traditional marriage between a man and a woman, because the heart wants what the heart wants.  Broken hearts of fans of the Global American Oligarchy want it right now.

They have even blessed the children of Portland and on the exit ramps of highways in Oakland and New York to stamp feet and beat drums in a national tantrum.

(CNN)There is a real chance that we have just held the last presidential election that will ignore the results of the national popular vote.
Most people believe the mechanism for electing a president can only be changed through a constitutional amendment, an extremely cumbersome process that requires the approval of two-thirds of the House and two-thirds of the Senate, as well as the approval of three-quarters of all the states. (Amendments can also be adopted by a constitutional convention, but one hasn't been held since the founding of the republic.)But the truth is, a decade ago, a computer scientist named John Koza -- one of the inventors of the scratch-off lottery ticket -- came up with an ingenious way to institute the election of presidents through the popular vote, without touching the Constitution. . . .

Koza's solution is possible because the Constitution specifies that state legislatures can decide to choose presidential electors any way they want to. Koza proposed an interstate compact, enforceable through the impairments clause of the Constitution.

The compact says that every state that adopts it will appoint electors who promise to abide by the result of the national popular vote, as soon as enough states are participating to cast 270 votes -- the number needed to elect a president. Between 2007 and 2014, 10 states and the District of Columbia, with a total of 165 votes, adopted the compact.

Hey, that's hip!

Not as hip as Hamilton!

 The electoral system of the United States was designed by Hamilton to “weed out” those that are not fit to become the commander in chief of the United States. The election phase has the popular vote and the newly proposed “Electoral College”. The electoral college is a body of people that is voted in by the public to elect the president of the United States. Even though the election has a popular vote, the electoral college is the one that officially elects the new president. But, the electors usually vote for the candidate that has the popular vote in their respective states. Those candidate later on would earn the votes of the electors, and the numbers vary within states because it is population based. That “the candidate who receives an absolute majority of electoral votes, currently 270, wins the presidency”.[6] Though the system may sound acceptable to most people, it does not come without a consequence. One of them being the Electoral College. The “Electoral College allows for the possibility that the winner of the national popular vote does not actually win the presidency”

Now, How about that?


*Organized by the Hillary Victory Fund, seats for the matinee performance start at $2,700 and go to $100,000 for “event chair” tickets, which includes two premium seats, a wrap party with Clinton and “other special guests,” and an invite to the Democratic National Convention. Tickets are available on Clinton's website.

John Kass: Civics Lesson and the Salvation of Fly Over America

John Kass is great writer.  A great writer hammers out or scribbles words that should come as close to the truth as possible and Kass delivers daily.  You might disagree, but truth is all about disagreement.

I say the Nicene Creed at Mass, because I believe the truth of it.  I do so only because 3rd Century Greek speaking and writing Roman bishops and statesmen slaughtered one another from Alexandria to Antioch over the precise wording of the core consubstantiation - three Persons; One God.

Today, Kass's column speaks to the 'concered, thoughtful and serious' voices that are howling like banshees out of range of the public's ear drums. The elites, the artists, the actors, the journalists, the anchors, the professors, the activists and the organizers who were doing so well in the emerging American oligarchy, along with bankers, arbitragers, venture capitalists and short-selling globalists.
Scream democracy, vaporize the middle class and rule is the compelling narrative of any Banana Republic.

 . . .   I'm not even a big fan of early voting. I figure that if voting is actually important to you, then you'll get up on Election Day and get your butt down to the polling place and cast a ballot in person.

Still, if we got rid of the Electoral College, think of the shape of things to come. Soon after, we could have immediate national referendums on almost every important issue. And depending on America's mood, we could swing quickly, one way or another, this way and then back again.

We wouldn't need a House of Representatives or a Senate. Legislation takes too long. The president could appoint governing bureaucrats who would move with great speed. States wouldn't count for much, if anything. They'd disappear eventually, as would the idea that the people of Kentucky might see things differently than the people of New York.

The populated coasts would become supreme. And if California got passionate and wanted Great Lakes water, we'd have a quick national vote on it. Bingo. A pipeline to drain the lakes, and it's done.

We'd have real democracy for a change. And the majority would rule. And that ancient experiment called a republic, designed to be inefficient and slow, to protect the minority view?

Who'd want that anyway?

That is a rhetorical question.  John Kass and you and I know exactly who would want that - the very people who want to rule over everyone else and call it a democracy. We are a Democratic Republic and thank God, all three of him in my home, for that.  Hamilton, Jefferson, Madison, Adams and Franklin were successful, because they were "Stronger Together" - they were like the Arian and Athansian bishops and monks and thugs kicking sand in Alexandia and eventually Nicea.

The Constitution is our foundation because it protects the few from the majority and not fools the majority for the few.

The Elites and their Retainers detest the Deplorables in Fly Over America ( Pittsburgh, Akron, Cleveland, Detroit, Gary, Chicago, Milwaukee, Duluth, Davenport, Omaha & etc.) , but last Tuesday some of those Retainers decided they did not like being retained at all and a revolution took place - without one dime of George Soros's money.

Fly Over America was saved from becoming a Hunger Games landscape.

Trump did not do that.

The Constitution of the United States did that.

The Achilles Heel of Western Civilization Bites George Soros Good and Hard.

PHILADELPHIA — George Soros is back.
The billionaire investor, who scaled back his political giving after a then-unprecedented $27 million spending spree to try to defeat President George W. Bush in 2004, has quietly reemerged as a leading funder of Democratic politics — and as a leading boogeyman of conservatives. Politico

 The pop-up, Soros-financed leftist groups like Occupy Wall Street, Black Lives Matter, even the Boycott, Divest and Sanction movement against Israel – all based on the left's hatred and prejudice – will vanish as Americans under President Trump go back to work and come to realize that the psychotic jealousy that fuels these groups has hurt and not helped either themselves or our country. Joan Swirsky
Okay. So let's review the Electoral Map:

• New York City - New York state went for Clinton
• DC - went for Clinton
• Chicago - Illinois went for Clinton
• Boston - Massachusetts went for Clinton
• Seattle - Washington state went for Clinton, too

So these so-called protestors are protesting in places that already went for Clinton, rioting, burning, breaking. That's going to earn you a lot of support somewhere along the line? We're missing something here.
Be careful ladies and gents. Second City Cop
 

A louse of the first waters is the James Bond Villain figure and Global Short Seller. George Soros.

He is the only person on this planet to whom I wish to snidely and quietly give the old horse laugh.

Soros is the money roll of the Occupy Movement and its benighted members that are collateral damage in this creeps war on Western Civilization.  Here is Soros weeks before the election.

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From the bullhorn Bolsheviks, preening priest and high volume BLM activists plaguing the working families of Mount Greenwood in Chicago to the bust-out capital of California Oakland, George Soros is the guy behind noise, the violence and the blood.

George, you lost a hell of a lot of money, but not nearly as much as you will.

Try and get some sleep.  A really long one would be nice.

Trump Wins - Sarah Palin Did It.

Donald J. Trump is President Elect - the 45th President of the United States.

I went to sleep last night convinced that Hillary R. Clinton would be so; I believed that America was about to be hammered flatter, sillier, undignified and weaker than it already happens to be.

I voted for Donald Trump only to vote against Hillary R. Clinton, a third term for President Obama and to toss the middle finger at the Illinois Democrat and Republican Parties.

I succeeded on two.

Here in Illinois, we have same-old-same-old. Illinois is still squeezed into its globalist Progressive Hillary Blue pant suits.

The Chicago Sun Times, The Chicago Tribune, WTTW and the networks succeed in maintaining Rube Goldberg Progressive Pension  Handout Machine, available only to oligarchs, cretins, feebs and dummies.
Illinois election results  MORE RESULTS

U.S. Senate
Tammy Duckworth (D)
54.4%
Mark Kirk (R)
40.2%
99.1% of precincts reporting

Comptroller
Susana Mendoza (D)
49.0%
Leslie Geissler Munger (R)
44.9%
99.1% of precincts reporting
DISTRICT 10
U.S. House
Brad Schneider (D)
52.5%
Robert Dold (R)
47.5%
100.0% of precincts reporting
COOK COUNTY
State's Attorney
Kim Foxx (D)
71.7%
Christopher Pfannkuche (R)
28.3%

U.S. House District 7
 Back to top
CANDIDATE PARTY VOTES TOTAL VOTE PERCENTAGE
Danny Davis DEMOCRAT 232,322
84.0%
Jeffrey Leef REPUBLICAN 44,242
16.0%
Precincts reporting: 568 of 597, Last updated: November 9, 2016, 5:37 a.m.
U.S. House District 8
 Back to top
CANDIDATE PARTY VOTES TOTAL VOTE PERCENTAGE
Raja Krishnamoorthi DEMOCRAT 141,080
58.1%
Pete DiCianni REPUBLICAN 101,871
41.9%
Precincts reporting: 465 of 465, Last updated: November 9, 2016, 5:37 a.m.
U.S. House District 9
 Back to top
CANDIDATE PARTY VOTES TOTAL VOTE PERCENTAGE
Jan Schakowsky DEMOCRAT 203,776
65.8%
Joan McCarthy Lasonde REPUBLICAN 105,900

The lame continue to halt everyone in Illinois.

Not so, beyond Cook County.  Donald J. Trump hit a nerve in the decaying molars of the American Middle Class that has lost its dental insurance, along with its sense of We Are the People.

I worked very hard for John McCain in 2008 and when he picked Governor Sarah Palin as his running mate, I believed that he had found the path to victory.  I was very wrong.  Barack Obama had a great machine, but he is a man of limited capacities controlled by people who do not like the United States, its history and most of its people very much.

The Obama machine turned its sights on Sarah Palin and the news media, Hollywood, Bruce Springsteen, P-Diddy, SNL and MASSCULT America went 'gangsta' on not only Governor Palin, but her family.  That woman could take it.

John McCain, a hero who withstood years of physical and psychological torture at the hands of the Communists in North Vietnam's Hanoi Hilton with the manly grace of Samson at the milling wheel, eyeless in Gaza, turned into George Stephanopoulas at the thought of ridicule in his beloved American media and Jack Griffin when the economy tanked in September, 2008.  Senator McCain was happy being Senator McCain and he allowed Barack Obama to waltz into the White House, while he retained the good will of Chris Matthews, David Brooks, Wolf Blitzer and weaker sisters of the GOP.

McCain allowed Sarah Palin and her family to be nailed to the cross, by David Letterman and every toxic ink slinger continental.

I admire Sarah Palin and consider her to be the 21st Century Mother Jones.

I also like Sarah Palin as a person - she seems like a fine mother and seems very happy. Happiness really upsets American Progressives - unless of course they happen to be burning witches at the stake or engaging in universal self-loathing.

I believe that I am the only member of my vast family who admires Sarah Palin.  In fact even among my more conservative friends this admiration of mine seems a bit daft.

The very pious, elegant and well-spoken woman, who deigns to be seen in public with me,  is put off by Gov. Palin's rhetorical choices and her God-given voice.  Coming from a blue-collar Irish Catholic family where Party loyalty equals Union (Real Labor) fidelity,  Ms. Palin's own Family Labor background gets lost in translation by my dear tribe, as well as the American Progressive Smart-Set.  The same family members, my Mom most loudly, who hold that Ms. Palin must be "nuts" are not in the least put off by Nancy Pelosi's ghost whispering. Second only to these standard issue mental health canards, comes the Celtic charge of Palin being a "total phony!"  Could be.  It's lost on me.

I like and admire Sarah Palin.  She can lead.  President Obama, in the words of Hockey Dad and Chicago's own Bobby Hull, "couldn't lead a dog out of a thunderstorm with a T-bone steak." The man can baffle with soaring bullshit, I'll give him that . . . not that he writes any of it.

I'd follow Sarah Palin into a Jenny Craig Program; I would not follow President Obama into Old Country Buffet.

Sarah Palin stayed in the fight for these last eight years of the Obama Administration and took the buffets and blows with her sinewy courage.  Palin was the voice in the Wilderness, mocked by an HBO movie, David Letterman every night, GOP thin skins universal and even people who once felt warm toward her plain spoken Populism.

Sarah Palin was the first national political figure to give street cred to Donald J. Trump and every theme that brought him to victory - listen to the whole speech.



That voice is something.  That rhetoric is something.  That endorsement lit the fire.

Sarah Palin went dark, after her endorsement and did not need to play Jesse Jackson, photo-bombing her choice at every turn, nor did Governor Palin allow herself to be a goat for Trump.  He does that on his own.

I do not know if Donald J. Trump will deliver.

I do know that he has the opportunity and he owes that opportunity to Governor Sarah Palin. Along with his daughter Ivanka, the victims of Clinton, Inc. Kathleen Wiley, Juanita Broderick and  Paula Jones, Sarah Palin's feminine heroism pushed Trump over the pundits, polls and plutocrats.

Sarah Palin has been right since 2008 - Tea Party, ISIS, Obamacare Death Panels, Occupy Anarchism, BLM and Putin's proximity to her backyard, the English Channel and Aleppo.

I pray that she will keep President Elect Donald Trump's nose on the right path.