Smerkle In The House With Two Points To Make

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For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Smerkle Grumpy. Known Peter all his life. I wrote words here before. Been too long since my man Peter gave over the pen to me. I told him just that, to be sure. We hugged. We’re cool.

Now, I am no journalist. I am a being that says what he wants, straight out. I try to stay in the borders of decency and such, but not always. The thing is, there’s a bunch of wickedness out there now. Peter’s a good man, but his words are too polite. He knows I am not as polite as he is, but he said my voice might be needed these days and so he said I could pick two points I want to make, and go for it. So here goes the first point.

If you support the orange American Grand Dragon in the White House, you know damned well you’re supporting a racist and a sexual predator. Does that really mean you’d be just fine about it if he grabbed your wife or daughter, sister, or your mother, by her privates? If you are just fine with that, a sick puppy and you might want to think counseling. Some shit. But get well, for fuck’s sake.

One thing; you can’t support this beast, and act like you’re not supporting, racism, bigotry for all but white and wealthy men, sexual predators, and Trump’s homeboy, Vladimir Putin.

Okay, that’s the first point.  So here comes the second.

I think my imagination knows pretty much verbatim a conversation me and Televangelist Pastor Paula White would have.

Pastor White, born Paula Michelle Furr in Tupelo, Mississippi, is a spiritual advisor to President Donald J. Trump. She has also had a bucket-load of cosmetic surgery on her face. It’s heartbreaking to see. It looks like the poor woman’s beginning to melt, if you ask me.

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Now, this White lady – well don’t that beat all – has a ministry. She knows how to preach, in front of audience and camera. She thumps the bible with the best of them. Can’t you just hear our conversation? Listen. I mean, if I said, “Pastor White, would you agree God created us? That we are created in God’s image?”

She would say something like “Yes, I do,” or maybe, “That is what the bible tells us.”

I would continue. “And we’d agree, would we not, that what God creates, for each of us, is, at its core, is perfection in all ways. That it is up to us to shed ourselves of sin, and recognize the gifts God has given us?”

“Oh, yes. That is absolutely true.”

“We’d agree that God’s creations need no improvement?”

“We’d agree.”

“Then here’s my question. How’d on earth did he fuck up your face? How is it,  that everything God has created from the beginning of whatever-the-fuck time it is, has been perfect, then all of a sudden – badabing! badaboom! – he gets to your face, and something goes wrong? What are the odds of that?”

“I can’t believe you have the audacity – “

“I’m just gettin’ warmed up, lady. I got another one for you. Who are you to decide that God messed up your face in this first place? That’s pretty arrogant ya know – overruling the Big Guy like that.”

I don’t know what she’d say to that. I have no problem at all with anyone who chooses plastic surgery. I have a problem with hypocrisy. You can’t go around saying God’s perfect, but you’re even better.

Anyway, I made my two points. Thanks, Pete.

Love ya all,

Smerkle Grumpy

No one is disposable

If you are treating someone as if they are disposable, stop it. If you are being treated as if you are disposable, stop it. No human being is disposable. What’s more, a healthy relationship of any kind is impossible.

If anyone treats someone else as if they are disposable,  they don’t just wound the other person, they wound themselves! What makes this true? The pattern of treating others as if they are disposable makes it impossible for other person to be close to you.  This pattern of behavior is what I call a distance-maker. Something a person does that keeps others as at a distance.

I’m 65. I’ve been on my own since December 1969 when my mother had me put in reform school and disowned me, having me declared an “emancipated minor” meaning that I was the sole person responsible for keeping me alive. My father, the greatest gift my life has given me, died in August 1969.  I was disowned by my mother and never allowed back into the family again. I know what it is to be treated as if I was disposable. I have a nephew, Joe. A beautiful a human being. A really good man.  The narrative of his life is his to tell. That said, I think it is a safe bet he knows what it is to be treated as if he was disposable being, just as deep  as I do.

For those stuck in this pattern, the questions are not, why am I  bad person? Or, why am I  mean ? You’re not bad or mean. The behavior is mean, but a behavior does not define the all of you. Perhaps the more salient question you might want to ask is this.  How did I come to believe (how was I taught) that intimacy between people was dangerous for me?

Two more thoughts. First, it is more likely than not that those treating others as if they are disposable don’t realize that’s what they’re doing.  Second, it is likely those caught in this behavior’s web fat the moment have been treated as if they’re disposable somewhere back down the line. They deserve compassion too.

Beware the sappatized word

It can be a lot of work getting here to this blank page. It was climbing a mountain of anxiety under the power of thought, and, okay, strength. I’m not comfortable with the word courage. I mean, yes, perhaps in a pure sense it applies, but for me the word courage has a boastful connotation, and I am not comfortable with that. So I respectfully reject it.

We fuck words up, stain them with the one-two punch of judgment and connotation. Sometimes we inject them so many times with some inexplicable insidous honey-like ethereal substance, we sappitize them. Sappy, holy shit! Like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Sappiness makes me want to flee.

I’ll give you an example of a word that’s been sappitized. Darling. Darling is a beautiful word. It derives, in part, from the word, dear, defined in the New Oxford English Dictionary as, “regarded with deep affection; cherished by someone: a dear friend.” Come to think of it, in some ways dear too has been sappitized. Let me put it this way, if a woman said to me, “Kiss me, dear,” I was born knowing tongues are not involved. I think full-contact kissing is impossible in response to, “Kiss me, dear.”

I am wrong.

Just now — in the writing moment — I realized I was dead wrong.

I have experienced being deeply in love. Our beings were in as perfect alignment as two beings could be. If she had said, “Kiss me dear,” perhaps during one of those sweet-gentle holding each other moments, I would’ve kissed her in a heartbeat — with all my heart and soul.

Stunning what emerges when you write.

Memo to Maureen Dowd and Frank Rich

Lord knows I like columnists Maureen Dowd and Frank Rich very much. But humble up for God sakes and get over yourselves. Obama isn’t in office three months yet and already you two are taking prepubescent runs at him. Please note, I write about these two columnists because I really do respect them. Believe me, I’m not going to write anything like this about the likes of Bill “Lufa” O’Reilly, Sean “Brylcream” Hannity or that skeevy little twit, Glenn Beck, because those three were apparently put on earth to drool poison, dribble dishonesty and sweat hatred.



Dowd and Rich are without question class acts who despite being so, could use a dose of humility, and a nudge once in awhile to get themselves right sized, as it were.



In today’s NY Times Dowd is whining that we “less smooth jazz and more martial brass,” comparing Obama’s extraordinary calm to smooth jazz. Maureen, if you want martial brass, start a band. Most Americans are grateful for a calm non-panicking president. Relax. And, by the way, we could all use a little more jazz in life.



Rich writes, “A charming visit with Jay Leno won’t fix it”, it being the economy. Thanks for the heads up, Frank. I’m sure the president and the rest of us really were thinking: Wow, he’s on Leno, our economy is saved. Relax, Frank. Maybe many Americans were happy to see him (20 million watched, bro) and maybe just maybe his going on Leno reminds all of us that it is okay to keep on living and enjoying life. That’s a pretty nice message to get when we so many of us are struggling don’t you think? And an even nicer message when it is coming from – wait for it – our president!



Sometimes I wonder if some columnists fear they would go into some kind of inner churning withdrawal if they were to say go a couple of days without criticizing someone and, perish the thought, try on the possibility that maybe they don’t know all the answers themselves.



Humility isn’t thinking less of yourself, folks, it is thinking less about yourself. So relax, breathe, turn on Leno and watch like the rest of us. You might actually have a nice time. We did.

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Murdoch and Sharpton make Great Bedfellows

Rupert Murdoch’s “apology” for a blatantly racist cartoon in the New York Post has about as much sincerity as Dick Cheney has heart.

Before I get started here, let me say that I have no use for the anti-Semitic attention-whore Al Sharpton. Come to think of it, he and Murdoch have a lot in common. Both are greed-based. Murdoch for money, Sharpton for fame. Come to think of it, they’d make good bedfellows. My apologies for the frightening visual.

Murdoch’s “apology,” includes a phrase that makes it clear Murdoch is lying or is pretty much comatose (my guess is the former).

“I have had conversations with Post editors about the situation and I can assure you — without a doubt — that the only intent of that cartoon was to mock a badly written piece of legislation. It was not meant to be racist, but unfortunately, it was interpreted by many as such,” Murdoch said in part of his statement.

How anyone could interpret the image of two cops shooting killing a chimpanzee and not realize it is racist is beyond belief. Murdoch is flat out lying and his apology is driven solely by greed. Many advertisers were, and, I hope, still are, threatening to end their relationship with the Post.

If Murdoch wants to really do something that hints of sincerity, he can fire all those involved in the publication of the cartoon – and then resign.
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