Sir Elton was right about sad songs. Why does it feel so good to hurt so bad?
I DJ’d on Tuesday night at the bowling alley and played one of my favorite Kinks songs, “Come Dancing.” It’s totally different from most of the Kinks’ library, and it was a polarizing record when it debuted in 1983:
It also made me realize that I love songs that have happy melodies but melancholy lyrics.
In fact, “Come Dancing” actually makes me sad, ever since I learned the back story. Do you know the back story?
If you don’t want to be sad, you may want to skip this next part.
In 6-3 decision, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that all Americans should get punched in the mouth every day; writing for the conservative majority, Justice Amy Coney Barrett says the constitution does not protect citizens from a daily trip to “loose-tooth city.” In a blistering dissent, the liberal justices wrote “What the Fuck” over and over again in 48-point type.
During a late-night posting frenzy on Truth Social, President Trump threatened to bomb Massachusetts and outlaw bananas. “You get ’em and they’re so green, and then right away they turn brown! NO GOOD!”
The National Park Service announced it will sell the Lincoln Memorial to an operator of self-storage warehouses. Other moves aimed at shrinking the federal government include plans to turn the Gettysburg National Cemetery into a Sheetz and self-service car-wash.
Secretary of Health & Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. says that in-school scoliosis screenings cause autism and announced they will be replaced by mandatory coffee enemas for all students and teachers by 2027.
The State of Alabama this week began issuing hunting licenses allowing residents to hunt LGBTQ people during Pride Month. There will be a bag limit of no more than five LGBTQ people between June 1 and June 30, the state said.
In a 6-3 decision, the Supreme Court has upheld the constitutionality of Alabama’s new LGBTQ hunting license.
A heat advisory continues for most of the eastern United States as temperatures topped 150 degrees in Philadelphia and Baltimore. Scientists, looking cautiously over their shoulders at a large man standing behind them while wearing a MAGA hat and holding a baseball bat, declined to blame climate change.
A coalition of directors of 1980s and 1990s horror movies issued a statement saying that their works of dystopian fiction — such as RoboCop, Blade Runner, The Running Man, Starship Troopers, Brave New World, and other film classics — were supposed to be cautionary tales for Americans, not models for society to emulate. At a press conference in Hollywood, Dutch director Paul Verhoeven said, “for fuck’s sake, would you people take a look around at what you’re doing to yourselves? You’re completely off the rails.”
Dutch director Paul Verhoeven was apparently injured after being tackled by masked federal officers at a press conference in Hollywood and arrested. Witnesses said Verhoeven was thrown into an unmarked, windowless van and driven from the scene. A spokesperson for ICE said Verhoeven was deported to El Salvador “because Dutch isn’t even a country, did you know that?”
(For months, the stores near my home have already looked like they were out of business, with empty shelves and no stock on basic items such as Band-Aids, cotton balls and other drug store staples.)
Supposedly, there has been a lot of discussion around the country among community development officers about what to do with to do with all of the vacant Rite Aid locations that will soon be blighting small-town and neighborhood business districts.
Cartoon by Jay Togyer says, “With dozens of Rite Aid Stores around Pittsburgh getting ready to close, what should replace them?” Pittsburgh themed suggestions include “Sip ‘n’ Paint Parking Chairs,” “Pre-Owned Smiley Cookie Outlet,” “Museum of Steelers Quarterback Controversies,” and then an unidentified woman interrupts to say, “How about a drug store not owned by venture capital jagoffs …” who herself is then interrupted by the cartoonist.
Print is not available online; you can only read it in (what else?) print. It’s available at Giant Eagle and other stores in Pittsburgh’s East End, or subscribe on the website.
At least we have calm, clear-headed people in charge on both sides
Apologies to Country Joe McDonald:
Yeah, c’mon on all you big strong men Don the Con needs your help again He’s makin’ threats without a plan Against the mullahs in Teheran So put down your phones And launch some drones We’re gonna go to war with Iran
Chorus:
And it’s 1, 2, 3 What’re we fighting for? Bibi’s in the commode So we’ll watch Iran explode And it’s 5, 6, 7 Let’s make America great Well, it ain’t no use to wait ‘n see Ayatollah, it’s tollin’ for thee
Now, onward, Christians, let’s move fast Our big chance has come at last We gotta go out and bomb some sand ‘Cause eschatology is at hand And y’all know Jesus will return When the Holy Land starts to burn
(Chorus)
Chevron and Exxon, don’t move slow ‘Cause Armageddon is a-go-go-go Just wait for the signal from Mr. Trump Then raise the prices at the pump And even if the worst don’t come to pass It’ll still be a real gas
(Chorus)
Well, MAGA voters have dissatisfaction Better get the military into action The orders came down from Donald Trump We gotta get him out of his ratings slump And so we’ll do the best we can To bomb the shit out of Iran
Elon Musk, like Daffy Duck, finally came up against his own limitations — including a possibly vestigial sense of shame
Over the weekend, my best friend was playing “Looney Tunes” clips for the amusement of his kids, and we started talking about the cartoon where Daffy Duck — frustrated by Bugs Bunny’s popularity — keeps trying to one-up him, until finally, Daffy swallows explosives and blows himself up.
The audience goes wild and even Bugs Bunny is impressed: “That’s terrific, Daffy! They want more!”
Daffy, who is now a ghost floating up to heaven, laments, “I know, but I can only do it once.”
(The cartoon, from 1957, is called “Show Biz Bugs.”)
I’ve been thinking about the cartoon in relation to you-know-who. I’ve developed a theory about you-know-who and the people around him.
BREAKING: Right-wing backlash to Cole Escola’s outfit at the Tony Awards raises fears that the national tour of “Oh, Mary!” may skip its planned stop at the Yakov Smirnoff Theater in Branson, Mo.
I have no problem with marijuana; I think they ought to legalize it everywhere and sell it in drug stores and anywhere alcohol is available. The fact that people — mostly young Black men — are still being jailed for selling pot is insane to me, and it amazes me that more people aren’t offended.
If I can buy a 1.5L of Scotch at the state liquor store, you ought to be able to buy a bag of primo indica there, too. And then go home and roll up a fatty as big as a telephone pole and blaze away and see if I care.
But man, the constant smell of it everywhere is starting to get to me.
On the bus, in the supermarket — today, I was waiting for my wife to finish with a doctor’s appointment at a large Pittsburgh hospital, and someone walked past me just reeking of skunkweed.
Two weeks ago, while my buddy and I were in Dayton for the radio convention, our hotel room was unusable one night for the smell of marijuana. Our strong suspicion was that the employees were smoking it; although the front desk told us it was coming from outside, we saw a large piece of PVC pipe sticking out of a window in the employees-only area, as well as tell-tale signs of masking tape around smoke detectors (as if they’d been covering them up).
I filed a complaint with the hotel chain’s corporate office; they told me “well, recreational marijuana is legal in Ohio now.” I said, yes, but your hotel is non-smoking, and it shouldn’t matter if it’s tobacco or pot. Firepits are legal in Ohio, too — could I bring one of those into my hotel room and start a camp fire?
It reminds me of when I was a kid and everyone smoked tobacco, and didn’t realize how badly they reeked of cigarette smoke. I don’t miss those days at all, when you’d open the door of a bar or restaurant and a cloud of smog would roll out.
I’m not sure if the dank stank is better or worse than stale cigarettes, but it’s just as pervasive as nicotine stains were 40 years ago.
Come grift with me, I’ll take a bribe, it’s true / In Mar-a-Lago, there’s a greedy schmo, who will toot his flute for you
Click to embiggen
If you’re enough to remember an advertising campaign by National Airlines where pretty female flight attendants said things like, “I’m Marla. Fly me,” well, you should probably schedule a colon cancer screening.
I heard stories this morning that the U.S. has officially accepted a luxury jet from the Government of Qatar to be used as President Trump’s personal airplane.
Step up, step up, Mr. Art of the Deal, and win a prize!
It will likely cost another $100 million or more to rip the jet apart and make it safe for the president to fly on.
Anyway, I immediately thought of that ad campaign.
Here’s the text, in case you can’t read it:
I’m Donald. Fly Me.
You’ve met my friend Tamim. And some more friends like Vladimir, Viktor, Jong Un, Bashar, and Jinping. My friends like to give me things. Like luxury jets. My other friends, like Jeff, Mark, and Elon like to give me cash and cryptocurrency. (Whatever that is). I must be doing something they like. If you want me to do something you like, you know what to do. Just slip me some cash. Or property. Does it sound like bribery? Sure. But the Supreme Court says as long as I do it in the Oval Office while I’m President, it’s all legal. And I intend to stay President for a long, long time. Fly Donald. Fly MAGA. Donald Trump accepts Bitcoin, cash, and American Express
And here’s what the original campaign looked like:
Here’s this month’s “Pen Avenue,” my cartoon for Print, Pittsburgh’s East End newspaper. The theme is the April 29 storm that knocked out power to a large section of the county — in some neighborhoods, for several days:
Incidentally, I do not see Print before it goes to … well, print. I was surprised to see that the photo on the front page, about the storm, looked so much like my cartoon. Great minds? I’ll have to ask Ann Belser, the editor, if the cartoon influenced her photo choice.
Print is not available online; you can only read it in (what else?) print. It’s available at Giant Eagle and other stores in Pittsburgh’s East End, or subscribe on the website.
