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Live Blogging the Inauguration

10:06 – The President and Vice-President Elect have arrived at the White House.  Mrs. Trump brought Mrs. Obama a small gift, which Mrs. Obama looked at is if it were covered in dog slime.

10:11 – Is it just me, or do all of the Secret Service guys shave their heads?  Seriously, it’s like they all want to look like Mister Clean?

10:13 – NBC shows a shot of Marine, Army, and Navy flag officers walking out to the stands, all in their dress uniforms.  They were followed by some guy in a faux hawk.  Yeah.

10:18 – Wow, LucasFilm let them use Maz Kanata for the color commentary.  Oh, never mind, that’s Tom Brokaw.  My bad.

10:21 – Lester Holt just asked if Donald Trump was going to have a honeymoon as president.  Apparently, Mr. Holt needs his dosage upped a tad.

10:24 – If you’re old enough to reminisce about how cold the 1985 inauguration was, maybe you’ve been doing this too long.

10:32 – What a difference two decades make.  I remember when NBC reported on Bob Dole’s alleged involvement in an underground, Satanic, chocolate adulteration ring in 1996.

10:36 – Just saw John McCain.  For those of you who said in 2008 that he was too old and wouldn’t survive a term as President, there you go.

10:48 – Mrs. Obama and Mrs. Trump have come out to get in the limos.  Neither of them look happy to be there.

10:50 – President Clinton and his wife have arrived at the Capitol.  I’ve seen people walking to prison sentences with more mirth in their faces.

10:53 – Mr. Trump and Mrs. Obama are driving to the Capitol.  You all have no idea how much I would give to be a fly on that particular wall.

10:57 – Tom Brokaw just reminisced about the Jackson inaugural party/brawl.  It’s good that even at such an advanced age, he can still recall events from his youth.

10:59 – The last time I heard commentators throw this much shade on someone, it was in Pompey’s Theater on a beautiful March morning.

11:01 – Mr. Trump and President Obama have arrived at the Capitol.  I heard this from the back of some lady’s head.

11:07 – Whatever else happens today, this has been good PR for Apple and Cadillac.

11:18 – Is there a special school for political wives that teaches how to smile when you want to curse at the top of your lungs?

11:23 – Stay classy, Nancy Pelosi.  Nothing like making a political statement during a time that’s supposed to bring our country together.

11:25 – Obama descends the stairs with Biden.  After a little crowd work, he finds his way to his place.

11:27 – NBC reporters are doing political kabbalah based on everyone’s tie color.  Is this what we’ve come to?

11:31 – President Elect Trump comes down the stairs.  I’ve never seen anyone make sure they don’t fall down a flight of stairs so much in my life.

11:33 – And here we go.

11:35 – “Willing, but not enthusiastically” – An excellent description of the mood today.

11:36 – They’re invoking Lincoln.  Nobody ever got us into trouble without invoking Lincoln.

11:39 – Never heard that version of the Beatitudes before.  Interesting selection.

11:47 – Chuck Schumer takes the mic. I wonder if he’s going to reach across the aisle.

11:49 – Huh, Schumer didn’t mention the freedom to bear arms in that little list.  Strange.

11:51 – Interesting.  Schumer celebrates the words of someone fighting an army of Democrats in the Civil War.

11:52 – Clarence Thomas will now give the oath of office to Vice President Pence.  Perhaps this will be the thing that gets him into the African American history museum.

11:57 – It’s OK, Mr. Trump.  Not a lot of people know more than the first chorus to “America the Beautiful.”

11:59 – Chief Justice Roberts will now administer the oath of office to Mr. Trump.  I wonder if he will get it right this time.

12:00 – President Donald J. Trump.  Say it with me.

12:01 – Is anyone watching the skies over North Korea to see if they’ve launched their ICBM yet?

12:02 – President Trump takes the stand to make his speech.  Starts off by thanking everyone.

12:03 – Trump acknowledges and thanks President Obama.  Nice

12:04 – Then he starts tearing down the Washington power structure.

12:05 – “This moment is your moment.  It belongs to you’

12:06 – “The forgotten men and women of our country will be forgotten no longer”

12:09 – “We’ve defended other nation’s borders while refusing to defend our own”

12:10 – “From this day forward, it’s only going to be ‘America First'”

12:11 – “We will get our people off of welfare and back to work”

12:19 – And the reporters remark about how insulting the President’s speech was.

12:21 – “If I forget thee, Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill.”  Now, that’s an interesting choice of words.

12:26 – Oh, good.  They found someone who could hit the note at the end of the Star Spangled Banner.

12:28 – And with that, the inauguration is over.  Godspeed to President Obama, and good luck to President Trump.

12:32 – Just when I thought I was done, NBC News Godwins the inauguration.  Apparently, saying “America First” is anti-semitic.  So, there’s that.

12:35 – President Trump is walking with President Obama.  I wonder how much Obama wants to punch Trump over that speech.

12:36 – President Obama is about to leave.  I hope that Trump supporters have more class as he goes than Obama supporters had watching President Bush leave in 2009.

12:37 – How interesting.  Before the ceremony, the reporters were remarking about how the crowd was graciously clapping and cheering for Mrs. Clinton when she came down the stairs and took her seat.  Now, they’re talking about how they boo’ed and jeered her.

12:38 – “Hyperbolic” “Dystopian” – Words a historian is using to describe President Trump’s speech.  Was Nick Cole his speech writer?

12:40 – Did Mr. Obama look back as he got on the helicopter?  I don’t think he did. (EDITED:  He did.  I just missed it.)

12:45 – Mr. and Mrs. Obama have flown away from the Capitol.  Of course, they’re only going to live a few miles away, so perhaps they’ll take this as an opportunity to figure out how they’re going to deal with Washington traffic.

12:47 – Now, NBC is comparing Trump to Huey Long.  Anyone got any idea until he’s compared to Pinochet?

12:50 – And I’m done.  It’s all done except the jawing, so I’m going to go and do something constructive.

A Year of Poetry – Day 272

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring’d with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

— Alfred, Lord Tennyson, The Eagle

Quote of the Day

Now, there’s one thing you might have noticed I don’t complain about: politicians. Everybody complains about politicians. Everybody says they suck. Well, where do people think these politicians come from? They don’t fall out of the sky. They don’t pass through a membrane from another reality. They come from American parents and American families, American homes, American schools, American churches, American businesses and American universities, and they are elected by American citizens. This is the best we can do folks. This is what we have to offer. It’s what our system produces: Garbage in, garbage out. If you have selfish, ignorant citizens, you’re going to get selfish, ignorant leaders. Term limits ain’t going to do any good; you’re just going to end up with a brand new bunch of selfish, ignorant Americans.

— George Carlin

A Year of Poetry – Day 270

I
I heard a small sad sound,
And stood awhile among the tombs around:
“Wherefore, old friends,” said I, “are you distrest,
Now, screened from life’s unrest?”

II
—”O not at being here;
But that our future second death is near;
When, with the living, memory of us numbs,
And blank oblivion comes!

III
“These, our sped ancestry,
Lie here embraced by deeper death than we;
Nor shape nor thought of theirs can you descry
With keenest backward eye.

IV
“They count as quite forgot;
They are as men who have existed not;
Theirs is a loss past loss of fitful breath;
It is the second death.

V
“We here, as yet, each day
Are blest with dear recall; as yet, can say
We hold in some soul loved continuance
Of shape and voice and glance.

VI
“But what has been will be —
First memory, then oblivion’s swallowing sea;
Like men foregone, shall we merge into those
Whose story no one knows.

VII
“For which of us could hope
To show in life that world-awakening scope
Granted the few whose memory none lets die,
But all men magnify?

VIII
“We were but Fortune’s sport;
Things true, things lovely, things of good report
We neither shunned nor sought … We see our bourne,
And seeing it we mourn.”

— Thomas Hardy, The To-be-forgotten

Musings

  • Things that did not end well #293o2457 – Crash the Siamese Psychopath stalking a full grown Canada Goose who was having a stroll down our street.
    • Idjit only backed down when Mr. Goose spread his wings and dared him to come closer.
    • The one time I take the dogs out and leave my phone inside, this happens.  I could have been rich, or at least Internet famous.
  • I had lunch with Girlie Bear and her young man yesterday.
    • It went well.  He’s a nice guy, respectful, firm handshake, and stopped being jumpy after about 15 minutes.
    • He gained points by admitting that his deer rifle is a .30-30.
    • I’m taking the two of them shooting on Saturday, so we’ll see how that goes.
  • Freedom’s Light has gone live on Amazon, and it seems to be doing well.  Nick Cole has an excellent write-up.
  • Today I learned that the way to get out of a long prison sentence for something I most definitely did is to ask to be castrated and threaten suicide.
  • Moonshine tried to get out of my investigation into a disappearing cinnamon roll this morning using the soulful eyes routine.  He failed spectacularly.
  • I am not allowed to put the term “Are you illiterate or just stupid?” into a business email.
  • The inclusion of an extended human interest story during a news broadcast is an excellent excuse to test out the mute button on my TV remote.

A Year of Poetry – Day 269

Here, where the lonely hooting owl
Sends forth his midnight moans,
Fierce wolves shall o’er my carcase growl,
Or buzzards pick my bones.

No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
Or where my ashes lie;
Unless by beasts drawn round their bait,
Or by the ravens’ cry.

Yes! I’ve resolved the deed to do,
And this the place to do it:
This heart I’ll rush a dagger through,
Though I in hell should rue it!

Hell! What is hell to one like me
Who pleasures never know;
By friends consigned to misery,
By hope deserted too?

To ease me of this power to think,
That through my bosom raves,
I’ll headlong leap from hell’s high brink,
And wallow in its waves.

Though devils yell, and burning chains
May waken long regret;
Their frightful screams, and piercing pains,
Will help me to forget.

Yes! I’m prepared, through endless night,
To take that fiery berth!
Think not with tales of hell to fright
Me, who am damn’d on earth!

Sweet steel! come forth from your sheath,
And glist’ning, speak your powers;
Rip up the organs of my breath,
And draw my blood in showers!

I strike! It quivers in that heart
Which drives me to this end;
I draw and kiss the bloody dart,
My last—my only friend!

— Abraham Lincoln, The Suicide’s Soliloquy

Overheard in the Kitchen

Irish Woman – It’s a wonder your people ever progressed at all.

Me – Oh, yeah?  Well, it took all of the potatoes dying to get your people off their island!

Irish Woman –  Oh, yeah?  Well, what got your people moving?

Me, turning on my smoldering gaze and dropping my voice into a sultry whisper – Irish women. <wink>

Her, pointing to door – Get out of my kitchen.

A Year of Poetry – Day 268

It was eight bells ringing,
For the morning watch was done,
And the gunner’s lads were singing
As they polished every gun.
It was eight bells ringing,
And the gunner’s lads were singing,
For the ship she rode a-swinging,
As they polished every gun.

Oh! to see the linstock lighting,
Téméraire! Téméraire!
Oh! to hear the round shot biting,
Téméraire! Téméraire!
Oh! to see the linstock lighting,
And to hear the round shot biting,
For we’re all in love with fighting
On the fighting Téméraire.

It was noontide ringing,
And the battle just begun,
When the ship her way was winging,
As they loaded every gun.
It was noontide ringing,
When the ship her way was winging,
And the gunner’s lads were singing
As they loaded every gun.

There’ll be many grim and gory,
Téméraire! Téméraire!
There’ll be few to tell the story,
Téméraire! Téméraire!
There’ll be many grim and gory,
There’ll be few to tell the story,
But we’ll all be one in glory
With the Fighting Téméraire.

There’s a far bell ringing
At the setting of the sun,
And a phantom voice is singing
Of the great days done.
There’s a far bell ringing,
And a phantom voice is singing
Of renown for ever clinging
To the great days done.

Now the sunset breezes shiver,
Téméraire! Téméraire!
And she’s fading down the river,
Téméraire! Téméraire!
Now the sunset’s breezes shiver,
And she’s fading down the river,
But in England’s song for ever
She’s the Fighting Téméraire.

— Sir Henry Newbolt, The Fighting Temeraire

Question

I woke up with some odd questions this morning:

  • Are public state universities an agency of state government?
  • If so, are they subject to equal protection and other Constitutional protections in the same manner as other government agencies?
  • If they are, could their employees be in legal trouble for promoting one political candidate or perspective at the expense of another?
  • How would this impact on-campus efforts to punish wrongdoers like students accused of sexual assault and other crimes?
  • How would this impact incidents where victims of crimes like sexual assault are turned away and discouraged from contacting law enforcement?
  • How would this impact such things as ‘campus carry’ if the state bans concealed carry in other state facilities?

 

These are the kinds of things my brain comes up with in my sleep.  Anyway, I’m going to get some coffee and ruminate.  Please let me know what you think in comments.

A Year of Poetry – Day 267

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

— William Blake – A Poison Tree