Photo Essay: A Letter to my Grand Daughter Ceci.

 

Former Clown Peggy Williams Looks Back on Her Decade in the Ringling Bros. Circus. (Stacey Althen, for Sarasota Magazine.)

 

Tim Torkildson, AKA Dusty the Clown. Long ago and far away . . . 

Long ago and far away

clowns did banish all the grey.

*

Raucous faces, wigs on fire;

they obeyed no staid umpire.

Whatever rules they might accept,

at bending them they were adept.

*

Shuffling in clown shoes which

gave the audience a stitch,

they took pratfalls and soap pies --

wore the most enormous ties.

*

All to make the world much brighter

for the average anklebiter.

*

They were savage sometimes, too;

slapstick is not cordon bleu.

*

Clowns created chaos, sure;

but their grins were clean and pure.

*

Where their like today might be

is a slighted mystery.

*

No one wants to give first aid

to the baggy pants brigade --

so the sly and silly clown

of yesteryear won't come to town . . . 

Study paints stark picture of how some get mired in collections because they can’t pay medical bills. (Erin Blakemore in the WaPo.)

 

This patient suffers under the delusion he is a poet; doctors hold out no hope for a cure.

I've been in debt to doctors all my life it seems to me;

From babies to their acne -- now my colonoscopy.

*

Some clinics have been patient and have given me a break;

but others are so ruthless they would shame a cobra snake.

*

They've called me up at breakfast; they have called at midday meal;

they knock upon my door at night, so my repose they steal.

*

Even with insurance and that good old Medicaid,

those medical collectors treat me like a renegade.

*

They threaten with foreclosure and the repo of my car;

they try to take my salary (hah! that won't get them far.)

*

Talk about your pound of flesh; they'd also like my liver

unless a couple thou today I promise to deliver.

*

I've moved and changed my phone number and from now on I'll tarry

not with doctors anymore but reps from mortuaries.

Police shootings continue daily, despite a pandemic, protests and pushes for reform. (WaPo)

 

"Since 2015, police have fatally shot more than 6,400 people."

I remember long ago

our grade school textbooks pealed

with praises for the men in blue --

our nation's finest shield.

*

But now I am distressed to find,

according to statistics,

the cops don't care a fig for law

but only for ballistics.

*

It's like the days of Wyatt Earp

and necktie parties, too;

police are shooting from the hip

at every bugaboo.

*

There's too much gun play in the land;

too many screws are loose --

I hope police and public can

work out some kind of truce.

*

For otherwise this frail old man

that I've become today

will simply lock my door for good

and in my bunker stay . . . 

Facebook’s Next Target: The Religious Experience. (Elizabeth Dias, for the NYT.)

 

The company is intensifying formal partnerships with faith groups across the United States and shaping the future of religious experience.

Facebook walks on water;

of this you can be sure.

With faith-based cooperation,

they offer a free cure.

*

Live streaming congregations

engaged in worship plain;

the hungry will be sated

and invalids lose pain.

*

So stay at home and ponder

the miracles achieved

when Facebook gets religion

(and makes the devil peeved!)

*

It's cyber-manna certain;

a feast upon your screen.

With cursor you can study

real saints like Augustine.

*

A portal for opinions

that reek of piety;

who needs misinformation

when dogma is so free?

Can The Left Regulate Sex? (Ross Douthat, for the NYT.)

 

Dirty Old Men Of The World Unite! You Have Nothing To Lose But Your Pants! 

In general the recent trend has been toward more regulation: The sexual-assault tribunals on college campuses, the changing rules of workplace harassment, the new politesse surrounding pronouns and sexual identity. Part of this reflects a pattern often observed by conservatives, in which certain forms of sexual liberation seem to require more micromanagement than the old “thou shalt nots” — like the rigor required to distinguish supposedly empowering “sex work” from the exploitative variety, or purportedly egalitarian pornography from the misogynist or pedophilic sort.

Ross Douthat. 

The battle of the genders

has so many loud contenders.

*

The balances and checks

for contemporary sex

are so silly and complex

that Don Juan they would perplex.

*

We all need a vacation

from sexual liberation.

*

A few well-placed taboos

would be such refreshing news.

*

And perhaps 'twould be in fashion

to abjure all crimes of passion.

*

Do you think I am a boor

to go back to days of yore

when the talk of birds and bees

was feared more than Bright's Disease?

*

I suppose I must be daft

to think all this darn sexcraft

that intrudes upon my world

should be lowered and then furled.

*

I guess that I'll go in the closet

and my geezer butt deposit

while I wait for times to change

and sexuality to grow less strange . . . 

Evictions are about to restart as tenants wait on billions in unspent rental aid. (WaPo)

 

"As courts prepare to allow evictions again, only 12 percent of $25 billion approved in December has reached people in need."

There was a man, a wicked man,

who called himself our Uncle Sam.

*

He had so many bags of gold

the count of them could not be told.

*

He got his gold from pockets picked,

and his conscience never pricked.

*

He liked to promise succor to

anyone he ran into.

*

Pauper, penguin, common thief --

he would grant them all relief.

*

Since he had great piles of cash,

no one thought his promise rash.

*

But his promised aid was slower

than a rusted push lawnmower.

*

In dribs and drabs he parceled out

nothing much but sauerkraut.

*

Pennies that could do no good

to restore one's livelihood.

*

Renters never saw a shred

and were evicted on their head.

*

 But with a smile our Uncle claimed

the postal service should be blamed.

*

Or maybe global warming stopped

all the manna being dropped.

*

Anyway, those promised aid

never ever did get paid.

*

But Uncle Sam continues to

promise skies of sunny blue.

*

So go right up and ask him now

to provide from his cash cow.

*

He will write you a large check

(but won't explain the bottleneck.)

*

So when you try to cash it you

will meet with your own Waterloo.

Is Bitcoin a religion? If not, it soon could be. (Andrew Fenton for Cointelegraph Magazine.)

 

"Every atom in the universe through heat and energy transfer, one day will become literally Bitcoin.”

Hass McCook.

Hass McCook, for one, does preach

that bitcoin heals the soul's sad breach.

*

He claims that cyber-coin contains

more power than most hurricanes

to lead us to the Promised Land

without restraint or reprimand.

*

We may be but Satoshi bits

but never are we counterfeits!

*

I find this bitcoin gospel odd --

though many think of cash as God.

*

The love of bitcoin is the root

of making people destitute.

*

At least that is my heathen notion

of such crypto-coin devotion.

*

But people love deep mysteries

and bitcoin has complexities,

with block chains up upon a cloud

to overawe the naive crowd.

*

Digital religion seems

to be the stuff of childish dreams.

*

Temples, chapels, synagogues --

all are going to the dogs;

young folk go to cyberspace

to find wisdom, wealth, and grace.

*

Filthy lucre, once despised,

now is very highly prized,

ballyhooed and sanitized,

keeping people mesmerized.

*

But I am no religious crank;

I'll keep my pittance in the bank.

And when I sit upon a pew

it's peace, not wealth, that I'll accrue.

*

The road to hell is paved, maybe,

with worshiping mere BTC.

Religious Americans less likely to believe intelligent life exists on other planets. (Becka A. Alper, for the Pew Research Center.)

 

"Religious and secular thinkers alike have long discussed what the implications for religion would be if humans discovered intelligent life on other planets. In the United States, highly religious adults are much more skeptical about the possibility of extraterrestrial life compared with those who are less religious, according to a recent Pew Research Center survey."

When an Episcopalian

meets outer space alien

what's the reaction to be?

Perhaps a strict dubiety.

*

A Baptist is likely to lecture

and tell the poor thing it's conjecture.

*

An Anglican parson might shake its green hand

but tell it from services it will be banned.

*

The Methodists a hymn will sing

then tie it up with heavy string.

*

The Pope could welcome it to Rome,

then say it's just a garden gnome.

*

A Lutheran, no doubt, would fear

to bring one home to drink some beer.

*

 If Unitarians saw a flying saucer

they'd quote a line from Geoffrey Chaucer.

*

Mennonites would keep concealed

a moon man working in their field.

*

Now Mormons, who have funny ways,

already think that planets blaze

with souls like us  -- so they don't care

if Earth's a cosmic thoroughfare.

Wellington 'clown' murder trial pushed back to 2022 at defense's request. (Hannah Winston, for the Palm Beach Post.)

 

"On May 26, 1990, Marlene Warren was shot in the doorway of her Wellington Aero Club home and died several days later. Witnesses, including her son, said someone dressed as a clown came to the door, presented her with flowers and balloons, then shot her in the face." 

The clown assassin is a trope

that's had its day, I really hope.

*

Too often in the recent past

have clowns brought forth the fatal blast.

*

Their killing sprees no longer thrill;

you might say it is overkill.

*

And when the amateur attempts

to settle some old contretemps

*

by putting on cheap makeup and

bumping off a gal or man

*

I hope Grimaldi and his heirs

do not yank out their orange hairs!

*

I'm sorry that this poem stinks so;

but what d'yer expect from an old Bozo?