Lord, if you won't take care of us, won't you please, please let us be?

  Well, it'd be fitting if the year closed out on me missing Deadline. The burger I ate tonight from Peppertown Restaurant was burnt and tiny, and the fries were soggy. It has a sort of poetry.

 I wrote the title around 7 p.m. and then pretty much fell asleep. Today was another one of those Big Sleep days, though I did manage to have a somewhat productive morning. But it's 10:15 Country Standard Time and I'm on it. I figure I can get 500 words in before the clock turns midnight and Enon Holler says goodbye and good riddance to 2020.

 I don't think anyone would disagree on it having been a booger of the year. No matter where you stand on, for example, the COVID-19 plague, I think we can all agree that it's been bungled greatly from the top to the bottom. People are still calling it overblown or, worse, some sort of intentional something designed to do... something.

 Conspiracy theorists are never really clear on that except it's somehow another way "They" can control us and/or track us. We never find out who "They" is and we all carry smartphones that are being tracked constantly and an internet that we've known for at least 20 years is tracked by the NSA. Wave hello!

 As for a method of control, please. Call me cynical but human beings, especially Americans, are incredibly easy to manipulate. Seriously, spend a season watching football fans. Or people who post on websites about television shows. It doesn't take much. For what it's worth, I think people who've lost loved ones to COVID-19 should be allowed to beat these sort of conspiracy theorists about the head and kidneys with a whiffle bat until they spit teeth and piss blood.

 Harsh? Perhaps, but I think it's fair. I've never been one to look back. That's why I write all this down, so I can remember it. But this has been a booger of a year and I am hopeful 2021 isn't quite a drag. As someone who watched a lot of B-grade science fiction and apocalyptic movies, I'm still sort of amazed we're living in this sort of future. I don't think anyone had "badly handled worldwide pandemic" and "millions of Americans cultishly following a complete dope" on their bingo card, as the kids say.

 Just to dip into the news for a bit, we're looking at Congressional Republicans being buttholes about the Electoral Vote count on January 6 when nothing they do will make any difference. There are a few complete lumps like Louie Gohmert who probably believe the latest Trump Conspiracy but most are Josh Hawleys, cynically manipulating the easily manipulated - speaking of the fact that Americans are so easily bamboozled that they'll almost beg for it - to set them up for a 2024 run.

 We really haven't considered the possibility the reason Trump's yowling about the election being stolen - apart from using it as a quick way to grift the griftable - is that he himself cheated. He'd already stated that if he lost it could only be due to chicanery and still maintains Hillary Clinton got three million dead voters in 2016 when that's patently untrue. And let's face it. Donald Trump is a lifelong cheat. He's cheated on his businesses, cheated his employees and contractors, cheated on his creditors, cheated charities, and cheated on his taxes. He's cheated on all three wives, cheated his kids, cheated his siblings, and would've cheated his folks if his dad hadn't been smarter and nastier.

 So fuck him and I'll be glad to see the end of him. I'll be glad to see so many awful people have to live with the realization that despite his high turnout, even more people turned out to see him gone. Hopefully next year we can get on top of COVID, have cops stop killing black people for spurious reasons, release everyone in prison on non-violent marijuana charges, get health care figured out and affordable, and figure out a way we can all exist on this planet, having a good time and being cool with each other, while not having to work ourselves to death just to be able to eat.

 Even if hoping 2021 is better than 2020 is a low bar, I'll still take it.

How many travelers get weary bearing both their burdens and their scars.

  I've been trying to ignore today. I don't know why, really. I don't feel bad, physically, nor is the black cloud hanging around. I'm a bit on the cranky side, but I'm always a bit cranky. My settings are permanently set on salty, that's just how it is.

 And it was a lovely day outside, too, warm and full of sunshine. It's going to be like that at least through the week, we'll see some rain and colder weather by the weekend. Hell, I've also been digging on some mods for XCOM 2, which make it not quite a whole new game, but definitely expand the play.

 But some days I have to hide, and no one seems to really get that. For much of my life, I'd go to work or some other obligation wanting nothing more than to be allowed to lay down in a cool, dark room. It had nothing to do with the job or whatever it was I was obligated to do. I just like doing that. Just lay there and think, slipping in and out of lucid dreaming.

 Today was a day like that. Woke up, let Otis out, looked at the news (such as it was), and packed it in for a couple hours. Woke up again, let Otis in, read for a while, and then packed it in again. That's how I spent my day. Some people might disapprove but screw 'em and feed 'em cornflakes.

 Anyhow. Anthony Warner. We're learning a bit more about him, namely that he was into conspiracy theories and apparently spent time hunting "lizard people" in and around Nashville. He's also supposed to have told a neighbor that he'd have a fairly interesting Christmas, though not going into detail about the what's.

 I'm not sure how this changes things, exactly. "Terrorism" has been tossed around, but I'm not going there just yet. I remember the Bush Jr. Administration when everything from protesting with the Iraq War to not agreeing with the president's education policy was considered "terrorism," so that word - like patriotism - has been worn pretty thin.

 There is something to the racism aspect, though. It's like whenever some asshole decides to burn down a black church or shoot up a gay nightclub, and we have to hear about what a sweet kid he was. If Warner was black or brown or the wrong religion, we wouldn't be hearing a thing about his concerns of an alien invasion.

 Well, this is interesting. New information from The Tennessean says Warner's girlfriend reported to authorities that he'd been building bombs in his RV but he wasn't considered worthy of being "on the radar." The cops knocked on his doors to investigate, but he never answered and they never followed up. Of course.

 I need to go ahead and wrap this up, I reckon. The only bad thing about days like this is my brain becomes a sponge, in that it absorbs a lot but won't give unless it gets squeezed. That's an unnecessarily tortured metaphor, but it puts it over word count. The year's almost over, so let's see what inane madness tomorrow brings.

Shine on, harvest moon.

  I hope everyone had a pleasant Christmas or if that's not your bag, a nice Friday. For whatever it's worth, mine was pleasant. It's still a bummer we couldn't do the big family gathering thing my family usually does, but that's how it goes. Maybe next year.

 Anyhow, let's do the do. It's been a weird week, to say the least. We started off Monday with the idea that we might see the COVID stimulus bill and possibly a larger check for folks Wednesday. Reality took a hard turn Friday with the explosion in Nashville. Again, luckily, no one was killed although there was quite a bit of property damage.

 The law dogs have been working all day to find out what they can, and they've come up with what they're calling a "person of interest." Sixty-three-year-old Anthony Quinn Warner is apparently the owner of the RV used in the bombing. There were human remains found after the blast and officials are trying to figure out if that's Warner. They've traced the ownership of the RV back to property Warner signed away in the last couple of months. Twitter detectives have come up with that owner, but as they don't seem to be involved, I see no reason to bring them into all this.

 For now, the FBI is dealing with all of this as a "suicide bomber," though they've given no inclination they know why Warner blew up the RV with himself in it if that's indeed what he did. Again, the Tweeter gumshoes have thrown up some ties to white supremacist movements but I haven't seen anything concrete.

 So that's where we are. Unless something's happened in the last hour or so, Trump hasn't said a thing about the blast. He has complained that his wife hasn't been on any glamour magazines and more whining about getting curb stomped last month, but nothing about Tennessee. Actually, apart from those tweets, Trump has spent most of the Christmas weekend golfing. I don't think anyone is really surprised or, for that matter, really cares.

  I really do think most people are tired of his shit, honestly. The Base gets loonier and loonier, making greater stretches and leaps of logic to explain why Trump actually won. And they just don't care. All morning Twitter was ablaze with the news that Adam Schiff had been arrested based on an obviously faked page. This is why you don't put much stock into the efforts of Twitter shamuses. Give everything a little bit of time to marinate and work out the kinks, just like with computer games. Life is full of buggy software, especially these days.

 Beyond that, well, the black mood seems to have blown over. I still have nothing kicking inside my head when I drift away from The News. I've been staring at that last sentence for a good 20 minutes. I've spent a lot of time picking guitar but I really can't do anything besides strumming rhythm. My fingers are simply too short, too fat, and my lack of grace extends to my entire body.

 I really haven't been posting this elsewhere because nothing interesting's being said. The news about Nashville can wait until tomorrow's round-up. Like I said, let it marinate. Scoops are great, sure, but let real professionals take those hits. Most of us can wait.

 I think I'll twist this off here. Something interesting, yadda yadda. I've got my Actual Paying Work done and may fool around with XCOM: Chimera Squad some more or perhaps Tyranny. Or I may read more of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. Or go to sleep. Hell, I don't know.

Yep. It's Thursday.

  It is indeed Thor's Day and, once again, I have some Actual Paying Work to do. It is around 34 degrees outside and the wind's a fierce (for Northeast Mississippi) 11 mph. It is, in a word, cold. So I've hibernated all day today and really haven't paid attention.

 Though I do see Trump's pardoned another round of rotten bastards. It's being pointed out that his numbers aren't anything particularly special but that it is noteworthy that most of his pardons are either people who lied for him at some point or he thinks he can get something out of. He's also pardoned three Republican congressmen who have nothing to do with him, one of whom was convicted of using campaign money to pay for jaunts with his side piece.

 While it is a big deal, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to be outraged at anything this chump does. I have no concern he's trying to pull something shifty to overturn the election results. I wouldn't be surprised but so far the attempt's been so ham-fisted it's almost laughable. The only thing that worries me is the violence his worshippers might pull. Most of 'em, sure, don't have the sand to put their money where their mouth is, but it only takes one.

 Dark thoughts on a gloomy Christmas Eve. Due to the COVID, my extended family's not doing the big get-together we hold at my aunt's every year. There's something like 60 of us, aunts, uncles, cousins of like you ain't never seen, and it's just not safe at the moment. My cousin's wife is getting over a bout of it and another cousin's son's wife has it but is asymptomatic. My brother and his wife are staying in Oregon, so it's just going to be me and Momma.

 And it is a bummer. I'm not going to pretend I'm all that social nor do I go out of my way to see my family when there isn't a raging pandemic. I've long ago accepted that even if they don't understand me - and they don't - they still love me and got my back. I'm incredibly lucky in that respect. And I won't pretend that as soon as the food is eaten, I start eyeing the door. Once the brouhaha that is the young'uns doing the Christmas thing kicks in, it starts making me nervous. It's even worse now that I don't have any weed.

 But it is what it is and there's nothing I can do about it but hope that next year is better. Too much gloom. I don't know where to go from there. Or here. The malaise that's been fogging my brain for the past couple of weeks is intensifying and stretching into a full-blown depressive episode. Lovely.

 Anyhow, that's enough. If I have something come to me, I'll come back, but I'm starting to despair of that ever happening again. In any event, stay warm and enjoy your Thursday.

 Turns out that wasn't enough. This is getting to be a huge drag, man. It's supposed to be fun. It's not necessarily anti-fun but it's getting to be a chore, and that's never a good sign.

 That should be enough. Okay for that.

Pretty lady ain't got no friend 'till the Candyman comes 'round again.

  So it's day... whatever into the Big Muddy and there is no change. My brain's still shut down, I'm still tired of the world, and I'd love to just go back to sleep. I'm chalking it up to Season Affective Disorder. I don't feel bad and I'm not especially depressed, per se - no more so than usual, anyway - I'm just lazy as hell. Well, more so than usual, anyway.

 I guess we'll just fill up space until we hit word count. It'd be nice if I could get a little substance, though. I've got Actual Paying Work due Friday and I have been seriously coasting the last couple of weeks. Oh, well. No one's paying me.

 I've been on a heavy Grateful Dead kick lately and going through their albums. Anthem of the Sun is almost unlistenable. The faux-disco of the late '70s on Terrapin Station or Shakedown Street is bad enough, but that noodly bullshit is, quite frankly, a tough nut to crack when you're not stoned out of your gourd. Jamming is way more fun when you're playing rather than listening. I'm quite liking some of the live albums, though, especially the earlier ones. Maybe I'll start digging into the official bootlegs. There's a lot to dig into, and I have no idea where to start.

 A lot of hay is being made about the most recent round of pardons Trump's giving out. He's not only pardoned a mess of crooks whose behavior that got them busted stem directly from them trying to grease the wheels for the President, but also the four Blackwater guys who committed war crimes by firing into an Iraqi marketplace.

 It's disgusting, sure, but end-of-administration presidential pardons rarely come away smelling like roses. It's one of those things I really can't get bent too out of shape over though I know I should. To me, it's just another example of the rot that's eaten the heart out of the American dream, a sign that we've been this awful for much longer than Trump's been in office. I'm glad other people can still get outraged over it, though, and don't consider it a mark in my favor that I can only shrug.

 I guess I have been mulling over the concept of patriotism lately what with all the talk about "traitors" and "sedition" and "real Americans" going on lately. I gave up on the concept of patriotism back during the Bush Jr. administration and what all was done in the name of "loving the country". If that what America is, then I don't want any part of it.

 It's a complicated relationship, though. I've maintained that people who say they "love America" generally show how much they hate actual Americans, and that's what hangs me up. There was a bit in, I believe, a Daredevil comic book where Captain America, that Sentinal of Liberty, says he isn't loyal to the government or the flag or anything like. He's loyal to the dream, and if it's good enough for him, it's good enough for me.

 The Big Trip changed my thinking on this some. From here to Oregon and back, I saw nothing but lovely country and met nothing but pleasant people. I saw a lot of beaten down and depressed, but I didn't see anything I couldn't call home. Once you cross the Great Divide there are differences, notable differences, but I saw Mississippi wherever I went. Good and bad, so take that how you want. Regardless, this is my home and I aim to see it comfortable and welcoming to everyone.

 I think we'll twist it off there. If something clever pops up, we'll come back. Otherwise, that's the day.

Some damn fool put a dollar-twenty-nine on a jug of Thunderbird wine.

 Man. I am not at all plugged in today. I couldn't tell you why, but here we are. So let's get the News all linked up and see if I can't come up with something clever before I go back to sleep.

 It was a pretty good week, actually. Monday took a look at the implications behind the Electoral College having the final say on the 2020 Presidential Election. Wednesday and Friday were concerned with the next stimulus package which still hasn't quite been hammered out by Congress. There was also some discussion about AG Bill Barr retiring, the initial rollout of the Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine, and the much-anticipated release of Cyberpunk 2077. The former looks to be going well, with some stumbles, while the latter has been a goddamn mess, apparently.

 We've still not got a stimulus package figured out and time is running out. Trump is still throwing his tantrum and apparently asking seriously if a military coup is possible. He also finally acknowledged the recent hacking of the U.S. government but considers it an example of media hysteria and wonders why they're blaming Russia instead of China. Really. I will be so glad when we won't have to hear about that ding dong anymore.

 I don't know what else. Not being plugged in means my brain isn't firing on all pistons. Whatever's been causing the writer's block for the past couple of weeks is heavy today. Seriously, nothing is coming out. So, let's take a break here and see if maybe a bite of supper does any good.

 Nope. I've been sitting here 20 minutes and still nothing. All I really want to do is go back to sleep. So we'll leave it open as we fool around on the web and see if anything noteworthy pops up.

 I do think it's a bit telling the wingnuts who have given up on overturning the election are getting bent out of shape because they don't think Dr. Jill Biden deserves to use the honorific. This is incredibly small and petty and the fact that it comes from a National Review writer who routinely calls people "cuck" should come as a surprise to absolutely no one. This is going to be the "Michelle's got big shoulders so she shouldn't be wearing a sleeveless dress" for the next four years, isn't it?

 Ugh. This is like pulling teeth, man. My brain feels like a soaked sponge. I need a hundred words to be able to call it a day. I've been playing a lot of guitar lately and I think I'm getting back up to speed. I can't remember any songs or make barre chords work, but I'm having fun.

 I'll say it again if just to finish this mess off and go back to sleep, the only thing that really, truly matters is having a good time. It's a bit weird that, for me, having a good time often includes sleeping all day. I sometimes miss playing in bands and wandering the Quarter, but I really do prefer not being around people anymore. Does that sound weird? I'll take it as a good sign that everyone who has a stake in my mental health thinks the hermit trip is the right idea.

 Five hundred words. Dig it.

The regular Thursday thing.

  While it's only 8:30 a.m. and my brain hasn't even come close to getting in gear - maybe around five this afternoon - I'm going to go ahead and put something down here. I have some Actual Paying Work to do tonight. Not as much as last week, just one piece, but the ol' creative juices have been a bit on the dry side lately.

 I couldn't tell you why. The News has been fine, there's always some goofy shit there to write about. I'm just a bit drained here and, quite frankly, disinterested in the latest round of delusion by Trump dead-enders. Something about a DNI report on the way is the new hotness. I don't know and I don't care, coach, wake me up if it actually turns out to be something.

 Today is the day James Booker was born and the day Hound Dog Taylor died. I share a birthday with the latter. Different years, obviously, but I was born the day he died. Unfortunately, I'm not quite as subtle and skillful a slide guitarist. Anyhow, I thought that was interesting. I understand if no one else does.

 So much for now. It's time for breakfast.

Waiting on the tables, waiting for the tables to turn.

  It's Tuesday, the Earth rolls on, and I'm listening to Cajun music by Bonsoir Catin. It features the youngest daughter of Cajun fiddler legend Dewey Balfa, Christine. It's more traditional than anything else and it's pretty good if you like that sort of thing, which I do. I would like to find someone I haven't heard that does Cajun music less traditional style, a la some of Jo-El Sonnier's records. The Lost Bayou Ramblers are pretty good but they're getting a little too artsy for my tastes.

 And so much for all that. In case you missed it, electors from all 50 states and the District of Columbia cast their votes yesterday. Despite talk of some "faithless elector" shenanigans swinging in to save Trump, it went the way the election did. Joe Biden won 306 to 232, an ass kicking by any other consideration.

 Of course, the silly bastard's still crying about fraud and his Faithful are misunderstanding the Twelfth Amendment to the point where now they're hitching their wagon to "alternative electors" putting Trump in for another term. In a word, no. In three words, ain't gonna happen.

 I know I keep saying I'll quit writing about this, but it keeps getting wilder and deeper. I don't know if comparisons to flat Earthers or people who think professional wrestling is real and the moon landing isn't really fully encapsulate the level of reality-denying done by the Base. And for Donald Trump, of all people. That must've been one hell of a TV show.

 It's being said Trump lost due to COVID-19, but I don't think that's so. I think the election would've been tight even without him blundering the pandemic response as bad as he did. People hated this guy, that's what his flock refuses to understand. Early voting would've still happened and I give it even odds Joe Biden would've beaten him either way.

 However, his response to COVID-19 could've won him the election. Had he handled it properly, not just encouraging people to wear masks and social distance or working with Congress to provide some sort of meaningful stimulus packages along with renter's guarantees. That would've been fine, but what's really screwed us all over is how vehemently he argued it wasn't that big a deal or that all the worrying was just another attempt by the Democrats, Deep State, and the rest of the world to make him look bad.

 Seriously, had he taken it seriously and worked as he did, he would've won handily. But if Trump could be something other than a small-minded, petty boob, he wouldn't be where he is today. That's why his flock loves him so. They see in him an excuse to be mean, petty, stupid, and cruel because it means their dicks aren't as small as they fear.

 And so much for all of that. I don't know what else there is to talk about. I stayed up way, way too late last night playing XCOM 2 so I've been dragging all day. I'm thinking I might call it an early night tonight, get some reading in, and shut it down early. Yeah, that sounds good.

Now I can see I've been away too long.

 Man, Charley Pride died today. He was 86 and died from complications for COVID-19. So that's another one lost to a virus that conservatives are still calling a "hoax" or a "plan." Rotten bastards. Eighty-six is a respectable age, particularly for a country singer, and Charley was one of the best. I would've loved to hear a no-holds-bar interview or read a book about his experiences in country music and Nashville. Being one of the first Black superstars - and the only Black singer of any significance since DeFord Bailey since the '30s - is something else.

 For me, one of country music's biggest shames, maybe the biggest, is the racism inherent in it. The fans would eventually give in like they did with Charley, but they're never cool about it. The business end almost refuses to believe that a black person could even like country music, much less want to sing it. I hope this comes out properly, but I've exposed a lot of black people of all ages to country music and never once have they come away without digging at least one song.

 I didn't care for the tune so much but I'm glad Lil Nas X had such a hit with "Old Town Road." No doubt due to his initial popularity with Hootie & The Blowfish, Darius Rucker's consider a country music mainstay. That's good. It's different now and there are a lot more folks sneaking around the bottom of the mainstream and Americana charts, but I can't think of any. That's on me, though, but that's how it should be. Thanks, Charley. You were the greatest.

 Well. Moving on, let's lay down some links to this week's News. It was a pretty good week overall, but there was a lot of good news going down. Monday we touched on the thuggery Florida governor Ron DeSanti launched against whistleblower Rebekah Jones. Again, for all the hooting and hollering conservatives do about "tyrannical government" and "free speech," they're pretty damn silent on this issue.

 Wednesday we looked at that goofy as affidavit slimeball Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton launched to get the U.S. Supreme Court to overturn voting results in four states that weren't Texas. Over two-thirds of House Republicans signed on and 18 attorney generals from Trump-supporting states signed on, even though it was poorly argued and completely nonsensical. Naturally, as we saw Friday, the Court slapped it down, pretty much killing any chance Trump had of peacefully staying in power.

 And that should be that. Of course, the yay-hoos - made up of Alex Jones, the Proud Boys, and other groups of dingbats who're pissed off at reality - are having a "stop the steal" march in Washington, D.C. For the most part, they're being roundly and rightly mocked, but there is an air of unease. Jones, for example, is calling for President-Elect Joe Biden to be removed "one way or another." He's a clown but a lot of deluded assholes take him more seriously than anyone should.

 Still, we live in a world where someone shooting someone else because that person's cell phone went off in a theater is seen as perfectly logical. We live in a culture where people still think a kid who shot up a black church after praying with them is seen as understandable. We live in a culture where folks think a teenager going to another town to "protect" someone else's business and his wind up shooting three people is considered admirable.

 Don't get it twisted, The MAGA faithful are willing to do just about anything for Trump and all the results of the last month haven't made a dent. If someone disagrees with him or doesn't do automatically becomes part of the "Deep State" and in on the worldwide conspiracy to be mean to Trump. Even the three Supreme Court justices that he appointed are the Enemy.

 Will they be violent? I wouldn't be surprised. Highland Park, Kyle Rittenhouse, the Proud Boys, the El Paso shooting, and the pipe-bomb guy show they have plenty of folks who don't have a problem with spilling a little blood in the name of their New Messiah. I'm not saying they will, I'm just saying watch yourself, friends and neighbors.

 They consider you the Enemy. They see themselves as Warriors of God. They see Trump - Donald Trump, of all people - as worth killing you over. Don't trust in them just flapping their gums and swinging their dicks. Some of them are serious and the rest will be fine with it. Believe that.

Programing Note

  I have some Actual Paying Work to do tonight, so we're going to skip today's sad attempt to come up with something worth reading. In any event, it's the same stupid shit it's been all week. Over 100 House Republicans signed on to the affidavit filed by Texas AG Ken Paxton, even though it misspelled "Louisiana." Seriously, people, check your spelling. It's not that hard.

 Interestingly, twenty-two state attorney generals sign an affidavit opposing the Texas deal, calling it an attempt to overturn a legal election. One of them was North Carolina's Josh Stein. He's a Democrat but Trump won North Carolina fairly handily. There's also a number of opposing affidavits from conservative politicians and legal folk saying that it's not worth trashing the Constitution just to keep Trump from having the sads.

 This, of course, won't make a dent with the Base. And it's really no wonder why so many Republicans in Congress are willing to tie their wagons to something so obviously inept and corrupt. They've seen the writing on the wall. They know what the party is now. They know if they go against Trump, they'll be primaries by someone who thinks the big ol' crybaby actually looks like he does in Ben Garrison cartoons. The Base is probably willing to die for Trump, some anyway, but they're all willing to sink a "RINO's" career if they step out of line.

 Okay. Enough for now. I have work to do and don't feel like staying up all night to get it done. Maybe if something interesting pops up, yadda yadda.