FFS! Friday!: Week Four

The Good, The Bad, The Science (and the Fancy Pants.) Finding the fun in our American political dysfunction.

(Enjoy this essay read by your fearless writer instead of AI!)

Hello, Friend,

FFS, it’s Friday…again.

Meh.

Before we take another dip into the cesspool…

Mr. Potter thinks my writing is too fancy pants. I use fancy pants words. I have fancy pants thoughts. My verbal trousers aren’t durable denim, they’re silk affairs festooned with gilded embroidery and sparkling crystal accents. They’re haute couture instead of ready to wear. They’re erudite and bespoke, often absurd, sometimes impractical, and definitely not for everyone. My slacks lack simplicity. My dungarees aren’t fit for a jamboree. Much like this paragraph…my pants are excess encrusted with extra. Some people like pants that are fancy, some people prefer pants that are practical, some people harbor no discernable pants preferences. Some people don’t wear pants at all, while others lack access to pants to form an opinion. I’m 61 years old and my writing is an integral part of who I am. At this point changing my pants seems unlikely. Either you like my pants or you don’t like my pants and there’s nothing I can do about that. If run on sentences, liberal rants, philosophical musings, whimsical folk art, a liberal use of Oxford commas, and a smattering of juicy expletives aren’t your things, it may be time to exit stage right before you find yourself knee deep in my fancy pants. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Sun Newspaper, from film negative, State Library of New South Wales, 1932 PUBLIC DOMAN WIKIMEDIA COMMONS (with writer’s edits)

Today’s pants are tropical floral print culottes with hot pink pom-pom trim. The better for wading, my dear.

Strap on your floaties, friend, it’s dip time!

"Harvard Harvard Harvard Rah Rah Rah" - colored drawing - postcard, 1910 PUBLIC DOMAIN WIKIMEDIA COMMONS (with writer edits)

THE GOOD

Pressure works, just ask a diamond. Senator Van Hollen of Maryland finally managed to meet with Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia in El Salvador yesterday. President Bukele, the not so cool dick-tator, did his best to sugar coat the meeting as a cocktail party via social media, but like all autocrats he vastly overestimates our naiveté and his sense of humor. My dude, sick fucks aren’t funny and neither are gulags. More pressure, please! Bring them home and give them their due process. ASAP

Three cheers for Harvard! This is how it’s done! Wicked pissa! Let’s all bang a uey, park our car in Harvard Yard, and honk for frickin’ integrity! Perhaps you’ll inspire the rest of the Ivies to rise to the occasion.

AOC and Bernie continue barnstorming the nation, filling rallies in deep red states to overflow and giving the middle finger to the oligarchy. It’s clear there’s a sea change. Let’s hope the tides keep turning. We need the momentum! Speaking of which, if you’re itching to hit the streets, tomorrow is another national day of protest! Find out more at 50501, 50 protests, 50 states, 1 day!

Whip up a pithy sign and let ‘er rip!

Lobby card for the film ''3 Bad Men", 1926 PUBLIC DOMAIN WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

THE BAD

For ‘alpha males’ (har har) these DOGE dudes sure seem like delicate flowers. So delicate they’re purging the government of people of color and women, physically and historically speaking. Grow a pair and learn to run with the wolves, fellas. Your big balls aren’t looking so big after all.

Speaking of delicate flowers, Bobbing for Brain Cells isn’t winning any fans with his ignorant takes on autism. Obsessed much? The guy who dumped a bear carcass in Central Park and strapped a dead whale to his car roof has a lot of nerve suggesting people on the SPECTRUM (shall I explain that to you since you seem incapable of grasping the concept, Bobby?) are a drain on society. Dude can barely form a coherent argument let alone a viable healthcare strategy. Way to make friends and influence people, doofus.

It wouldn’t be another day that ends with ‘y’ in America if another radicalized right wing white male didn’t grab a gun and terrorize a crowd of innocents. Our young men have a problem, and it isn’t a lack of attention, friends. It’s a steady diet of propaganda being spoon fed to these incels on the internet. While innocent upstanding men are being disappeared, monsters are being manufactured. It’s the guns. It’s the gun culture. It’s the BIG LIE. It’s on purpose. As usual, Orange Ghoulious is more concerned about gun rights than gun victims.

Theatrical poster for the American science fiction film Forbidden Planet (1956) featuring Robby the Robot. PUBLIC DOMAIN WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

THE SCIENCE

(You thought I was going to say the ugly, didn’t you? These pants are tricky like that, friend.)

I will admit that occasionally the Tangerine Turdburgler does get something right. Kinda. UV light has been proven to eradicate airborne bacteria and viruses, but it is harmful to eyes and skin, which means one could not shine it on oneself to kill a virus. However, recent studies into Far-UVC light have proved promising for a powerful UV light that would not be harmful to the eyes and skin. With Bird Flu flitting about the edges, an advancement like this could be a life saving game changer.

Speaking of life, astronomers have recently discovered promising signs of it on a distant planet. This is both exciting and, if I’m being honest, with the overall trajectory of our current timeline, possibly concerning. Don’t tell ME-lon, or he’ll ditch Mars and start planning his humanoid robot colony on K2-18b, which he will rename X2-18x. Talk about x-tra.

There are a lot of folks with a lot of opinions about gender and sex. I’m looking at you, JK. I really didn’t peg you for a Dolores Umbridge, bit of a plot twist that one. Despite their passionate protestations, there are more than two sexes. The binary is bullshit. There are a multiplicity of factors that contribute to a multiplicity of expressions of gender and sex.

Sex, it’s complicated.

Like most things in life, it’s on a spectrum. (A little louder for Bobby, he needs some help with this concept.)

It’s a mystery stuffed with a riddle and swaddled in a conundrum.

Keep calm and fancy pants on, friend. Happy Easter for those who celebrate, and Bappy Beaster* for the rest of us.

*This is a Potter Family Circus tale for another day, friend.

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