"Mad, bad and dangerous to know."

 (By American Zen's Mike Flannigan, on loan from Ari)

"If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary." - Alexander Hamilton, The Federalist Papers

It's one of those phrases that's been passed down in literary posterity. It was coined by Lady Caroline Lamb, the English novelist, and described the sixth Baron Byron, more popularly known as Lord Byron the Romantic poet. Lamb had had an extramarital affair with Byron in 1812 as we can assume she knew of what and whom she was speaking. Today, it lives out its posterity as one of those aphorisms that eviscerates its subject with a surgical use of a few spare words. Virtually all of its original punch has been leeched of its original power because Lord Byron died exactly 200 years ago on the 19th. Ergo, there's no one around to testify as to whether Caroline Lamb's appraisal was accurate or not. But there's no rule that says a good aphorism or insult can't be repurposed to fit more contemporary figures.

     Like Donald Trump, for instance.

    As far as recycled aphorisms go, we've, understandably, also seen this quote from the aforementioned Alexander Hamilton:

     "When a man unprincipled in private life desperate in his fortune, bold in his temper, possessed of considerable talents, having the advantage of military habits—despotic in his ordinary demeanour—known to have scoffed in private at the principles of liberty—when such a man is seen to mount the hobby horse of popularity—to join in the cry of danger to liberty—to take every opportunity of embarrassing the General Government & bringing it under suspicion—to flatter and fall in with all the non sense of the zealots of the day—It may justly be suspected that his object is to throw things into confusion that he may 'ride the storm and direct the whirlwind'."

     Except, this is no directed whirlwind of anarchy but criminal court in Manhattan and the court is run by a judge named Juan Merchan who doesn't take shit from anyone. Not even "former presidents" incapable of understanding that he, too, is subject to the laws of the land and the fact that he's running for an office he never legitimately won does not inoculate him from legal comeuppance. During every trial both criminal and civil, Trump looks and acts like a seven year-old boy forced to go bra shopping with his mother.

     And, after just two weeks in court, for which he must appear or risk jail, Trump's worst character defects are magnified under the media microscope. As with his civil trial in the E. Jean Carroll and civil fraud cases, Trump has to settle for inveighing about his woes not to thousands of supporters who have entirely avoided the courthouse but to a handful of reporters waiting outside the courtroom.

     So, let's re-examine exactly how Trump is "mad, bad and dangerous to know."

Mad

Leave it to Trump to never let a single opportunity go to waste to try to wring sympathy out of anyone. This is why, since the Carroll trial, Trump had taken to randomly look right into the lens of any camera in the courtroom (and he always knows, with preternatural awareness, where they all are) so he can look into it with this put-upon "O woe is me!" face to show the American public about the torture to which this poor man is subjected.

     But once he walks outside the courtroom to hold his shrunken little rallies, he's a different person. There's no vulnerability, no hurt expression and, despite gag orders, he inveighs against anyone and everyone he perceives as victimizing him. Leona Helmsley, who's appropriately buried in Sleep Hollow Cemetery,. once infamously said, "Taxes are for little people." Trump plainly feels the same way about the criminal justice system, that justice and legal comeuppance are only for the little people, especially if they're Democrats. Those people tend to be those who wound up in prison doing his bidding so he could keep his short fingers clean.

    But whether he's whining about the civil fraud case brought by Letitia James, the E. Jean Carroll defamation/rape trial, the documents case in Florida that, thanks to Aileen Cannon has gone nowhere at warp speed, the January 6 trial in Washington or the current hush money trial, Trump throws up a dizzying array of rationales as to why he shouldn't be at court, how he's not guilty, at how the bond laws don't apply to him or even why his supporters haven't shown up to commit mayhem on his behalf.

     He's going crazy because one prosecutor and judge after another is telling him what he can and can't do. And Trump has shown time and again that he doesn't thrive in environments that he can't control and that just makes him thrash around like a dying dinosaur. And his deepening dementia is no doubt exacerbated by his inability to sleep at night, which just makes his emerging psychosis even worse.

    There's also CNN's excellent analysis of how Trump's behavior has of late been "untethered to reality." To hear him talk, he's fighting the dragon of St. George, the lion of Hercules and the Kraken all at the same time. But the plain fact is, even though cameras are not allowed in the courtroom during the proceedings, eyewitnesses tell us he's nodding off. The one time he showed any actual defiance, Trump stood up and was ordered to take a seat by Judge Merchan.

     He also claims the NYPD is keeping his vast army of supporters away from the courthouse but file footage in the media shows traffic flowing freely around the courthouse. Maggie Haberman of the NY Times said there are no supporters because they're simply not showing up, a fact that resulted, of course, in Trump coining an idiotic nickname for her: Maggot Hagerman.

     The list goes on and on but I think you get the gist. At this point in every other household, the family would take the car keys away from him and maybe lock up the liquor cabinet for good measure.

Bad

 

Donald loves it when people go to prison for him. God forbid he should ever go away but, beyond that, Trump looks at people who go to prison for him as the ultimate loyalists. Many people have gone to prison for Trump and I'm not even including the J6 rioters but those in his inner circle. It's a quality prized in a subsection of American society- Organized crime.

      It's mystifying to me why so many people are willing to go to prison for Trump. His former CFO, Alan Weisselberg, is doing s second stretch in Rikers because he lied to investigators. Michael Cohen did three years in Otisville for committing crimes for Trump. Six years ago, George Papadopoulos spent 12 days in prison for Trump. Paul Manafort spent even more time in prison and he's the guy who knew where all the bodies were buried as far as the 2016 campaign's collusion with Russia was concerned. Steve Bannon is still running around free, at least inasfar as Bannon is capable of running.

     Trump wound up pardoning Manafort before he opened his big mouth. Same thing that same night with slope-headed, right wing rat fucker Roger Stone who was pardoned by Trump (It didn't hurt his chances that Stone released to the media something like, "Gee, it sure would be a shame if they forced me to sing like a canary..."

     And however many people who have already gone to prison for Trump, there will be others. As of now, Weisselberg and Peter Navarro are cooling their heels in prison. Now that Arizona has issued indictments in the fake elector scheme, we're likely to see more sanctions, disbarments and maybe even jail time. One of the most stunning falls from grace concern Trump's onetime lawyers, including Rudy Giuliani, John Eastman, Jenna Ellis, Christina Bobb, and Boris Epshteyn. Add to that not so august list Sidney Powell, Lin Wood, Alina Habba and other assorted assholes, and you're seeing once-respected lawyers who willingly sacrificed their legal credibility on Trump's semen-spattered altar of selfishness.

     Some, like Michael Cohen, have already been disbarred or suspended and the only thing keeping Cohen safe from late night talk show fodder is the fact that he became one of Trump's biggest enemies and testified against him in Congress and what will surely be at least two criminal and civil trials. Giuliani's already gotten hit with a nearly $150,000,000 judgment for maligning two innocent poll workers in Georgia (He still insists they're guilty).

     And yet these idiots keep coming back for more in service to a guy who doesn't give a shit if they live or die. What keeps these aforementioned idiots in line is Trump's promise that he'll pardon them, which is what he's promised his body man, Walt Nauta, who's front and center in the documents case. Go down for me and I'll take care of you, is what he tells them, which is a very mafioso thing to say.

Dangerous to Know?

Despite his narcoleptic presence in Juan Merchan's courtroom, Trump is really a flared cobra in a basket that no one can seem to charm. But the more we see of Trump in courtrooms, especially when he has to be yelled at by judges refusing to put up with his puerile behavior, the more we get the impression that somewhere along the way, the cobra has been neatly defanged.

     Trump is still dangerous, don't get me wrong. After all, one of his followers shot up the Cincinnati FBI field office before he himself was gunned down. And, of course, there was January 6, 2021. But January 6, like September 11, was a singular moment in US history that's unlikely to be reprised. Not impossible but highly unlikely.

    Now, history teaches us power is acquired in three ways: It can be legitimately earned, it can be seized by force or it can be willingly conferred by others.

    Trump never legitimately earned power. Then, when the 2020 election didn't break his way, he had an epic, years-long shit fit and tried to seize it. Nowadays, the only power he has is that conferred on him by a supine Republican party that is at turns scared of him and, as with the Russians, cynically using him as a useful idiot who will help them achieve their goals.

     And Donald Trump is the only "ex president" who ever used mob rule or the threat of it to get his way. He's already said if and when he loses the 2024 election, it'll be a "bloodbath." And the people who give him what he wants, like the RNC in electing his Nazi daughter in law Lara as its co-chair or House Republicans who scuttled a broadly bipartisan border bill just because Trump told them to are simply giving him power he doesn't deserve.

     But it's obvious the crazies just aren't coming out for him any more. They're nowhere to be seen outside the courthouses at which he's being tried. They're certainly not in the courthouse where he lumbers out to deliver his piss and moan sessions (I don't think I'm the only one who fantasizes about him coming out and seeing no reporters waiting for him).

   What we're seeing, instead, is an aging Samson shorn of his locks, We're seeing a weirdly emasculated former Titan reduced to courthouse and Truth Social rants that change nothing, a petulant manchild forced to sit down by Judge Merchan when he inevitably begins acting out. What we're seeing is a man who controls no law enforcement, no military, nothing but a disaffected and disconnected mob of malcontents who are braver behind a keyboard than they are in the real world.

     What we're seeing, people, is an emperor that not only has no clothes but no Praetorian Guard.

Good Times at Pottersville

RIP, Dickey Betts

     I began writing my novel, American Zen, about 16 years ago. Before I'd finished the first draft, I came upon the idea that I'd assemble a soundtrack for the album, something few novelists have even attempted to this day. One of the major tracks that best captures the essence of my bildungsroman novel of a rock group in 1978 desperately attempting one more bid for glory was "Jessica" by the Allman Brothers. It was the last song that this fictional band, The Immortals, was to play at their final gig in November, 1978 before their front man announced a solo record deal. Obviously, the band never played "Jessica".

      During their improbable reunion 30 years later, they go back to the same venue and meet the leader of an all girl group led by their late front man's daughter. They complete their final gig by playing "Jessica" with the girls before heading home.

      "Jessica" was written by Dickey Betts and it was composed to be played with two fingers on the left hand as an homage to French guitarist Django Reinhardt. "Jessica", in my mind, is one of the most brilliant rock instrumentals ever written and it became sort of the anthem for my novel, American Zen.

      Dickey Betts died today at the age of 80 and the world of rock and roll is poorer for it. RIP, Dickey.

Good Times at Pottersville

 

Good Times at Pottersville

The Second Gettysburg Address

 

(By Donald J. Trump, aspiring dictator)

     The sleazebags in the liberal media like MSDNC have been making fun of my perfect speech about Gettysburg. So, I, your favorite president, the 45th and 47th, have decided to write my own Gettysburg Address.

     There were many fine people on both sides and, unfortunately, the wrong people won. But it was a historic day five scores and 11 years ago in the war of northern aggression. The confederates were about to take control of the airports until the other guys stopped them.

     People say that up to 28,000 people were killed during those three days but don't believe that for a New York minute, people. There was a lot of love on that battlefield that day and guys were kissing each other. Personally, that's not my thing but that's what I hear they were doing, I dunno.

     And all the southerners wanted to do was to watch The Apprentice, the greatest show in the history of television, but the blue meanies wouldn't let them have TVs. People come up to me all the time and say, "Sir, the moment you fired Omorosa on The Apprentice was the most beautiful moment of my life."

     Anyway, the Battle of Gettysburg was fought not too far from the Capitol of Philadelphia. It's a town that I won by a lot in 2016 and by a lot more in 2020 and you can't tell me Crooked Biden won his home state. I won by a lot, OK?

     And, for just $9.99 extra, I'll throw in a printed copy of this address along with my Bible that you can get for the low, low price of $59.99. MAGA!

Good Times at Pottersville: End of the World edition

Light Dawns on Marblehead

     It was over three years ago, asshat.

This is How a Party Devolves

(By American Zen's Mike Flannigan, on loan from Ari, with a

tip o' the tinfoil hat to Constant Reader, CC)

It's ironic, if not outright impossible to believe, that Donald Trump's life could be characterized as calm. Trump's been called a lot of things in his life but calmness has never been associated with it. Yet, that's precisely what we're seeing despite the political and legal headwinds at this final phase of his life. It's the calm before the storm.

     The reason I say this is because right now Trump is enjoying nearly universal support from ultra right wing Republicans. More and more of them are even saying the quiet part out loud and calling for a repeal to the 22nd amendment that limits presidents to two terms.

     Republicans are perfectly OK with moving the goal posts when it suits them. When they have the majority in the Senate, they have no problem whatsoever in nuking the filibuster and denying the minority party a voice. When there's a Democratic governor in power, Republicans will move to strip that governor of his or her powers, such as what we've seen recently in Kentucky (Funny how Kentucky always seems to be at the epicenter of this right wing white-boarding). Then, when political conditions favor them again, they then move the goalposts forward.

     But with this emerging movement to get Trump a third term when he hasn't even come close to winning in '24, we're seeing the right wing's loathing for democracy and sheer ignorance of basic facts. First of all, you cannot get rid of a Constitutional amendment the minute it momentarily becomes inconvenient to your agenda. That would be problematic at best even in the wake of, God help us, a Constitutional Convention.

     Trying to get Trump a third term blithely ignores the fact that, statistically-speaking, he's already well past the end of his life span, which, as of last year, fell to 73 years. Considering his unhealthy lifestyle, it's a medical miracle Trump's still standing, albeit with a bizarre fronto-temporal forward tilt. It's impossible to see how anyone representing the apex of human evolution see many more years of life for this bloated fascist who gorges himself on hamburgers, fries and Diet Cokes. Plus, even if Trump lives into his 80s, only a blithering idiot would think his cognitive decline will arrest itself or get better. It's just a matter of time before Trump will make a public appearance sans pants.

     So, what will transpire when the inevitable happens and Trump is turned into a 300 pound pile of compost occupying the back nine of Mar a Lago?

     Well, one doesn't need to be a political scientist to know what will happen. But before I go into it, let me tell you about a video I once saw on the internet a long time ago.

     It was a dead water buffalo lying in a shallow river. The animal's body was unnaturally moving because its carcass was being hollowed out by scores of piranha furiously feeding on its innards.

    This is precisely what MAGA has long since done to the Republican Party. We've gotten so accustomed to the idea of Neo Nazis and white nationalists completely subsuming a major political party that it's hardly shocking anymore. It's now a party that, through a bizarre alchemy, turned Liz Cheney into a voice of reason within the conservative movement. And Liz Cheney was no centrist like, say, Lisa Murkowski of Alaska. This is a woman who'd voted with Trump 93% of the time... until January 6th.

 

"But wait! There's more crazy!"

But Cheney's apostasy, which was completely based on the January 6, 2021 insurrection, cost her her political career. She was thrown out of the Republican conference chair then was humiliated in 2022 by losing her Republican primary to a wild-eyed lunatic named Harriet Hageman, who is what the local church lady would look like after an unsuccessful regimen of Haldol suppositories.

    Almost all of the 10 House Republicans (including Cheney) who'd voted to impeach Trump the second time are now out of Congress. Some got hounded out, others lost primaries or elections. Since then, we've seen the retirements of dozens of Republicans, most notably Ken Buck of CO-4 and Mike Gallagher of WI-8. When Gallagher leaves, that'll shrink the Republican majority to one. It's like an Agatha Christie novel only with AR15 lapel pins.

     So, I think it's safe to say the GOP is the hollowed-out water buffalo stuffed with piranhas.

     Don't believe me? Ask Marjorie Taylor-Greene how things are going in the Freedom Caucus.

    But Marjorie Taylor-Greene was no victim. This is the latter-day Republican Party we're talking about. There are no victims, except in a mutually inclusive sort of way that depends on a torturous redefinition of the word. Time and again, we see and hear stories of disparate factions of the far right movement tearing each other to pieces when they realize there are differences in ideology.

     To revisit the movement to overturn the 22nd Amendment and keep Trump power for life, MAGA betrays its short-sightedness in hitching their wagon to an incipiently demented con man and grifter statistically past the end of his life span. But what happens when Trump finally shuffles off this mortal coil?

     What will result will be the largest and most vicious Nazi power struggle this planet has ever seen.

     We never saw it at the end of WWII because the end came so swiftly. Seeing the end was near, Nazi leaders like Himmler and Goering approached the Allied powers with peace deals that prompted Hitler to issue arrest warrants for them just before he ate a bullet and a cyanide capsule. Himmler mysteriously died in British custody and Goering committed suicide literally hours before his execution after the Nuremberg trials.

     They did turn on each other, sure, but because the Allied powers moved so swiftly and because the major figures died so quickly, we never saw what would have been a long, protracted power struggle after Hitler's suicide. And when you practically predicate an ideology on hatred and intolerance, it's inevitable that when the Dear Leader dies, there will be a power vacuum then a power struggle. And when Trump is finally gone from the picture, psychopaths-in-waiting will seek to inherit or steal that mantle outright.

     It will be, well, a fascist bloodbath the likes of which the world has never seen and it will, ironically, be staged in the nation that did more to end fascism in Europe than any other. And considering how thoroughly MAGA has occupied the GOP, it only stands to reason that, when MAGA falls, the GOP will fall with it. To hope for another outcome would be like trying to separate the Titanic from the 1500+ souls that went down with it.

Good Times at Pottersville

Good Times at Pottersville

Pottersville Digest

---

     Hey, ambulance chaser, it's hilarious that you think a cheap, cynical PR stunt by a guy who cheered on your cop-beating clients will get off on a technicality. And aren't you MAGATs always the ones letting loose with the water works when you don't get your way? Asking for 81,000,000 Biden voters.

---

     Regardless of all his bankruptcies, civil judgments for fraud & settlements with fraud victims, Trump never runs out of idiots who trust him. That's his superpower, his genius, to always find victims eager to sacrifice money, pride & reputations.

---

     Republicans really are democracy-loathing ratfuckers, aren't they? Take Kentucky, for instance...

---

     I can tell you exactly when the stock will go belly up: Now that Trump knows he has billions waiting for him, he'll pressure the board to change the rules for him so he can cash out now instead of waiting for six months. The board will knuckle under, give him what he demands and he'll cash out as soon as he can while the stock price is still high. The other investors will see this, and they'll sell their shares in an orgy of panic selling. The stock price will inevitably bottom out and the lower tier investors will be left with worthless stock. That's how this company will end.

---

     I wouldn't be so quick to pronounce this as "excitement for Biden" as it is fear of Trump. In that respect, the dynamic hasn't changed a bit since 2020 and that in itself is dispiriting. There's that and the fact that, in 2020, despite four years of the most nightmarishly dysfunctional years that anyone ever had in the WH, 6,000,000 more people voted for that umber buffoon than in 2016. That fact alone gives me cold sweats.

---

     Just when you think Trump can't sink to a new low, he starts working on the barrel's bottom with a diamond-tipped drill.

---

     Meme intermission.

---

     You know, I've never had the slightest use for Ken Buck, or any Republican. But this dick move that he pulled in abruptly leaving Congress had all the dickishness of a disgruntled tenant nailing shrimp shells behind a kickboard right before moving out just to get back at his slumlord. And that gets my grudging admiration.

---

     Don't forget, female voters make up 51% of the electorate.

---

    Of course, not a word from the Sociopath in Chief about McDaniels' sacrifice of her career spreading his own Never NeverLand lies about the 2020 election.

---

    And yet, one of the most absurd stats to come out of the last general election was that in 2020, Trump's support among Black voters was 8% whereas in 2016, it was 4%. Yes, it actually doubled.

---

     As Rahm Emanuel once famously said, "Never let a crisis go to waste."

---

     OK, if it's so cut and dry, then what are they waiting for? Break out the stainless steel jewelry.

---

   Oh, that's rich. The Republican assclown who wrote letters to himself was screaming for transparency.

---

     When is someone going to finally put this piece of shit behind bars?! Do you think any of us would get treatment this deferential? No, that deference is given to the asshole with a standing army of lunatics at his back.

---

     I'm surprised Trump doesn't have a fake gold tooth to put in his maw when he hawks his Bibles.

---

     Someone should literally ask this jackal, "When did you stop beating your wife?" And finally...

---

    Who gives a rat fuck what these lunatics think? This is hardly news because MAGATs are always outraged over something.

The C Suite Bubble

     This is probably the only post I'm ever going to write during an interstate road trip but it seems starting the day I leave Massachusetts, the proverbial shit hit the fan.

     Starting yesterday, Trump was given a huge boost in the New York appellate courts and was allowed a week and a half more to come up with his $454,000,000 bond except it doesn't have to be that but $175,000,000.

     Which may be easier since Truth Social also went public yesterday, theoretically netting Donnie Dumbo an additional $5,000,000,000 due to 80,000,000 shares in a company in which he never invested a penny of his own money. According to the terms of this fishy merger, Trump can't cash out his shares for another six months, long after the bond deadline but that could be overturned by a simple vote of the board. Of course, if Trump did a quick pump and dump of his 80,000,000 shares like his old buddy Felix Sater, aka Mr. Stabby Face, he would induce panic selling that would render the rest of the shares worthless. But, hey, who cares as long as neck vagina gets to parachute out while the shares are still going for $70 or more?

     So, between the appellate court rendering this inexplicable ruling (a stay was also imposed on Judge Engoron's decision that forbade Trump and his greaseball sons from acting as officers of any New York-based company) and Truth Social promising to stuff five billion in Trump's pockets, it would seem evil not only pays but pays billions in stock dividends.

     Then today, I began to hear rumors on Twitter, sourced only to Dylan Byers of Puck News about Ronna Romney McDaniel getting shit-canned by NBC two days after hiring her to spread Trump's propaganda. MSNBC's on-air talent ranging from Rachel Maddow to Chuck Todd to Joe Scarborough were universal in their condemnation of not only McDaniel and her hiring but also the NBC executives who"d unilaterally made the hiring decision without consulting said talent, producer or anyone else.

     It was a classic case of a group of corporate cunts acting as if they were the smartest guys in the room then acting accordingly. They autonomously made a major hiring decision that was bound to be controversial with their brightest stars and deeply unpopular with their viewers.

     And they didn't care. Their arrogance and bloated sense of their autonomy from their C Suite bubble was nothing shy of breathtaking. At Exxon, their version is the God Pod. The C Suite is NBC's version.

     Still, I held off from judging and leaping to conclusions. Twitter is a shitty and dodgy place to get your news from, especially when it's currently in the grip of a nazi psychopath who likes to blow up huge rockets and incinerate people with electric cars.

      Then it became official. NBC's executives couldn't take the heat and they fired McDaniel today. True to form, Donnie Dumbo couldn't wait to dance on her vocational grave as if he was on a rally stage looking like he's jerking off two gigantic penises.

     This was a woman, a pathetic woman, who, in her service to her orange God, sacrificed everything, even to the point of changing her name and removing "Romney" from it. She flushed down Trump's golden toilet any shred of credibility she ever had as RNC chair by shamelessly spreading his endless lies about the 2020 election.

      So, it wasn't enough that he got her fired at RNC HQ and replaced her with Lara and it wasn't enough that she got fired weeks later by NBC. Trump had to kick her simply because she's related to Mitt Romney.

     Her two days as an NBC contributor came to perhaps one fifth of a Scaramucci. But it was one that never should have been made in NBC's maniacal quest for "fairness and balance".

The Loss of Identity

 

     I knew this day would come. The day when I'd be writing my final post from this house. I just honestly thought it would be on my terms.

    I'm now doing things for the last time that I'd taken for granted, things I'd done hundreds or thousands of times before. Yesterday was my last mail delivery. I'd already paid the gas and electric bills for the last time. Last Friday I did laundry at the local laundromat and shopped at the supermarket for the last time, deposited a check at the bank for the last time. I'm eating my last lunch here as I write this and later tonight, if I have time, my last supper before sleeping in my own bed for the last time after taking my last shower. My old friend Diane is coming by in a few minutes and we'll see each other for what might easily be the final time.

     This is how my apartment looked almost exactly 15 years ago. It was just before I got the kitchen table and the rest of the furniture I'd acquired from a Brazilian family moving back to the Old Country. This would've been right around the time that Barb and I had first discovered each other online through the Rude Pundit's blogroll.

      The living room would be the scene of much joy, especially during Christmas where we'd opened our presents every year, often with the blessing of family. The kitchen was where we'd enjoyed countless good meals. especially during Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Year's and Easter. When Barb was still with it, we'd have very deep and profound conversations and the Scott Carson series was midwifed into being right there at our kitchen table. The bedroom was where most of The Doll Maker and all of Hollywoodland was written and where, at bedtime, we'd both read many wonderful books by other authors.

      Now I find myself giving things away. I cleared out the van of anything I felt might be of value to my son and he gratefully accepted the gas and gas cans, jumper cables and booster pack I'd given to him. My friend Nick at the Shell station, already the recipient of the Carson trilogy, got a blank journal a few nights ago, for which he thanked me again via text message. Friday, I gave my son two or three books, one of them my own Gods of Our Fathers.

      In a way, it's akin to a death or an impending one. I've heard stories of people who know they're about to die and begin giving away their belongings. As far as Hudson, MA goes, I was a townie for over 30 years and Barb was one for nearly 14 of those years. We loved seeing the same people all the time, eating at our favorite restaurants. Yes, we were townies,. We leaned into it. It was part of our identity.

      Being forced to leave Hudson involves a certain loss of identity. I went through that when I had to put Barb in the hospital a little over a year ago and again when she died six months ago on Friday. And a loss of identity is a certain form of death that's difficult to explain to those who've never been forced to walk in my shoes.

      I couldn't stop crying at the laundromat knowing I'd never do my laundry there again. I thought of all the countless loads of wash Barb and I did there. When we did laundry, usually on a Tuesday, I tried to leaven the dreary experience by having fun. Go to the local Honey Dew and get some sandwiches and coffee, to the Petco and look at the parakeets and reptiles and see the occasional dog, maybe shop for our favorite foods. I did shopping at the supermarket next door knowing I'd never shop there again. I knew I'd never do banking at my bank again. Friday was my sad little farewell tour. Dead man walking and all that.

      And, of course, Friday I had to watch the van get towed off, the same van that Barb had traveled in with me more times than I can possibly count. My favorite poet Keats once referred to this kind of uncertainty as "the wide arable land of events". Of course, when he'd written that to his siblings, he was talking about a dark doom that awaits us when we least expect it and it was written in the spring of 1819 on the cusp of his annus mirabilis. It was nearly after a year after he'd begun to present the symptoms of the tuberculosis that would kill him and that had already killed their youngest sibling, Tom, the previous winter.

      And I'll be fucked running if I know how to get my identity back. I used to be a writer until Barb's condition began to worsen and I had to devote more of my time and energies to her care. Then she was forcibly abducted from me and my identity as her caretaker was also taken from me. I don't know what awaits me in "the wide arable land of events" that Phoenix presents with the looming presence of a dead force. But I don't like this unsettled feeling nor should I be expected to like it. The past, to me, offers much more solace than the future. And I make no apologies for that.

     Preteens go through the famous "identity crisis" and there's something to that, sure. But no one has ever ventured a phrase for the identity crisis that people my age go through when we lose our agency and autonomy, our freedom and independence that we'd worked so hard to earn and keep. What's the phrase for the unique identity crisis that faces almost all seniors? There simply isn't one any more than there's one for parents that lose children.

     Like Jim Morrison said, "the future's uncertain and the end is always near", especially when you don't have a fortune to ensure and firm up what future is left to you.

     So, whenever I get to where I'm going, and it'll involve three different states or more, the punditry will continue, the cartoons may continue. But it won't be the same. You'll know it and I'll know it. All but the first eight months of this blog's existence happened at Casa de Pottersville right here in Hudson, MA. Starting tonight, I'll likely be going radio silent, not that many will care, because I'll be restricted to my cell phone. The internet's getting shut off tomorrow since I'll be leaving at 10 AM tomorrow.

     It was a hell of a ride and I often had a lot of fun writing for you guys, starting with Barb.

Good Times at Pottersville