Currently it is important to speak and write about Congress and its failure to do basic things like pass a budget, repair its nonsensical cuts to health care subsidies, and defend its authority to budget and not allow Donald Trump to trash any allocation he wants.

Yet, at both the federal and state level, instead legislative attention has drifted toward the non-serious. Sometimes it’s hard to separate genuine legislator stupidity from mere pandering to confused and misled, but nevertheless adamant, constituents. Few things demonstrate this better than the efforts, both in the Tennessee legislature and the U.S. Congress (with help from one Tennessee legislator), to tackle the conspiracy bug-a-boo of chemtrails, sometimes called contrails.

President Trump recently renewed his political assault on Canada, ending trade talks via social media post and hissy fit over digital services taxes. Trump’s musings and outbursts about Canada have all the bizarre twists of a Rocky & Bullwinkle cartoon, likely one involving occasional character and frequent failure, Captain Peachfuzz. Amazingly, I am not the first person to notice these similarities. Thus, I wrote it up my version of the episode. As usual it starts with the booming words of the voice-over announcer.

Let me be the first to wish you a Happy Watergate Day! The plumbers' parade, rumored to be held in Washington, D.C., has been cancelled--that area is still recovering from Trump's vanity event.

The battle of Trump v. Musk is a bit like Godzilla v. Mothra. Cheer for Tokyo, and hope the monsters take it out on each other.

It also can be compared to Alien v. (Sexual) Predator, but who is which?

No one really was surprised when an Iowa U.S. Senate seat came open, but it was a bit unusual for President Donald Trump to dismiss the replacement process. “A trained horse could do the job,” Trump scoffed at an impromptu news conference. Kim Reynolds, Iowa’s Republican governor, perhaps misreading Trump’s statement, dutifully appointed a horse to fill the vacancy. She chose Ed the Magnificent, a palomino that won acclaim at the Iowa state fair for clenching a broomstick in its mouth and defeating fairgoers in games of checkers.

It prompted the biggest equine political scandal since the Roman emperor Caligula was reported to have appointed his horse to the Senate. Trump responded to the outrage by bringing out of retirement former Commerce Secretary Wilbur Ross, 87, assigned to mollify the critics.

Amazon has acquired MGM, and also recently bought into the James Bond franchise. That means Amazon owner, billionaire Jeff Bezos, now has access to this iconic global cultural phenomenon, leaving me not shaken but stirred. Not only does he control the future of James Bond; he also can re-purpose the existing 007 catalog. I have some modest suggestions.

If you can get past the paywall, check out my guest column in the KNS.

Here

Trump is selling citizenship for $5 million. So, we need to modify the plaque at the base of the Statue of Liberty

"Give me your sleazy, your rich,
Your selfish asses learning to avoid jail,
The wretched excess of your teeming shore.
Send these, the oligarchs, tempest-schemers to me,
I lift my lamp beside the escape hatch!”

Elon wears his Trump cap like a crown
He calls his child Lil X
'Cause he likes the name
And he takes him to the strangest room in town
Elon, Elon likes his money
He makes a lot, they say
Spends his days counting
burning cars on the motorway

CHORUS

He was born a to wealthy white family
When the New York Times said, "God is dead
And the war's begun"
Oh, the Musks have a son today

And he shall be Elon
And he shall be a bad man
And he shall be Elon
In tradition with the emerald man
And he shall be Elon
And he shall be a doge man
He shall be Elon

Elon has cartoon goons in tow
His car business slides
Elon blows up rockets all day
Sits on the porch swing watching them die
And Elon, he wants to go to Mars
Leave us all far behind
Take a rocket and go soaring
While we all, we all slowly die

CHORUS REPEATS

Here is the video of the Feb. 1, 2025, legislative forum. It says a lot about our state and our legislators.

Here

Here

Here is one way to understand it.

I wrote my first opinion column when I was in high school, fifty years ago. Guest columns have been part of my career from collegiate days at Penn State, Syracuse, and Ohio University to teaching jobs in Cincinnati, Texas, and Knoxville, Tennessee.

Along the way I’ve picked up several honors for column writing, including two prestigious Sigma Delta Chi awards. I write this not to brag, but to establish credentials for evaluating the state of opinion writing.

It’s not good. The practitioners at some of our largest newspapers are as good as ever, but the bench of opinion writers at other publications dwindles daily. Newspaper chains have dropped many paid local columnists—relying instead on handout material and letting it linger on the front directory pages of news sites for days or even weeks.

You may have heard that last month Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson made her Broadway debut in a specially created one-night-only walk-on role in the jukebox musical & Juliet.
I have it on good authority that another Supreme Court judicial musical is in the works. It borrows very heavily from Evita, and is called Alito.
It culminates with the extremist right-wing jurist Samuel Alito singing as follows:

Don't cry for me, Federalist Society
The truth is, I do Trump’s bidding
These are my wild days, my mad existence
I take his phone calls
And fly my freak flags

Don't cry for me, Tangerine Man
The truth is, I always help you
These are my wild days, my mad existence
Make me Chief Justice
Not that wimp Roberts

Don't cry for me, pregnant women
The truth is, I took your rights, gals
These are my wild days, my mad existence
I need protection
Please keep your distance

In early 1981, just months into the new Reagan Administration, I published a guest column in the Daily Orange, the Syracuse University student paper. Here is a condensed and updated version of JC and the Plains Blues Band.

It was cold and rainy when I slipped into the Eldorado Cafe. The waitress asked if I was staying for the stage show. A small platform sat in one corner. Shortly after I finished the blue plate special, the band came out.

"Hi, I'm Jimmy," said the lead singer, flashing a toothy grin and pressing the microphone stand close to his frayed cardigan. "And we are the Plains Blues Band. Jody on tenor sax. Bad Bert on drums, and Ham on spoons and guitar."

The band struck up a blues riff and Jimmy went straight to work, his blue eyes staring at the audience as he crooned.

"I told you I loved you baby, but you took me far too seriously. Yes, I told you I loved you baby, but you dumped me for expediency. Now when things get bad baby, don't look to me for sympathy."

The crowd swayed and clapped, sometimes joining in on the chorus as he sang blues standards like Stand by Me, Hoochie Coochie Man, The Sky is Crying, and Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out. He did an original number Won't Someone Pass the SALT?

Then, just as quickly as he took to the stage, JC was gone. I heard some rumors he was busy building homes, eradicating guinea worms, and supervising elections. I suppose that's good, but that night of imagined music sticks with me. God rest good servant, Jimmy Carter.

I thought some of you might enjoy my Christmas column in the Tennessee Lookout.

Humbug

For those who can get beyond the paywall, I have this KNS column.

Trump Bashing is Patriotic

Congressman Tim Burchett's recent event where George Santos played Santa (no, I can't make up this stuff), indirectly reminded me of a Christmas gift I am making available to all. My book, The Professor on the (Online) Campaign Trail, is a free download. Share the epub or pdf with friends.

Link to book

The book helps answer these questions:
* Why did Tommy Jones' face turn purple?
* How did my campaign get more TV news attention in Bulgaria than on two Knoxville stations?
* How does one campaign joyously?

These matters once were limited to awkward moments at Tennessee Thanksgiving tables, but the explosion of social media (and lies perpetuated via those platforms) means that every day is Thanksgiving in terms of encountering a distant right-wing family member at your Tennessee table spouting Donald Trump cultist nonsense. The ubiquity of the form also means we can have awkward and possible tense exchanges with complete strangers. This problem only has been exacerbated recently as Trump devotees take to all forms of media to bloviate about his recent win, securing the greater share of popular votes for the first time and a second term in the presidency.

I generally fall into the camp relying on the advice attributed to George Bernard Shaw, “Never wrestle with pigs. You both get dirty and the pig likes it.” I understand the impulse, however, to not let inaccurate (verging on insane) comments go unanswered. So let me offer some descriptive advice about how these exchanges typically proceed. Remember that fact-driven messages have little appeal to Trump-oriented relatives who gleefully voted for Tennessee’s senior U.S. Sen. Marsha Blackburn. Some likely believe that the moon landing was faked, but televised wrestling extravaganzas are real.

Well, we don't really have Front Page Follies anymore, so I thought I'd share this old Frank Sinatra ditty updated for modern political fund raising.

In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the texts
And never, ever think of counting tweets
When a desperate campaign is calling
We can win if only you give
In the wee small hours of the morning
That's the time you hate these most of all

From today's Knoxville News Sentinel at 8:45am, in a profile of the U.S. Senate race in Tennessee:

"Johnson, 62, is a current member of the U.S. House of Representatives and has been representing part of Knoxville in the House since 2012."

I tried it but apparently she did it!