It's a hard life, you know.

America's foreign policy currently resembles the stumbling incoherence of a drunk well in his cups. A well oiled machine, indeed.

Domestically, little has been accomplished since January 20th, beyond putting the courts to work. Republicans in Congress have partnered with the Trump Organization to make it far easier for coal companies to pollute and fill streams, and for schizophrenics to buy guns. Some things to crow about.

The Donald keeps saying he inherited a mess, without explanation. I'm beginning to think what he means is, before he became POTUS, there was this inexperienced, dangerous guy set to take the position, and Obama didn't stop it from happening. It must be rough.

At home and abroad, I think we can discern the beginnings of a Trump Doctrine in its fairly explicit, thorough-going rejection of the Obama Doctrine, "Don't do stupid shit." 'Do do stupid shit,' about sums it up, so far, don't you think?

I put it to you:

What is wrong with moustaches? Eh?

For Every Problem, a Solution (4)

God as depicted throughout the ages. No Alanis Morissette, and, no, that isn't ironic.

My room is a mess, my painting unfinished.

...and I still haven't found a good alternative to my scanner with its missing power-cord. Almost finished with this painting, though. I just need to put in a bus seat in front of and behind the passenger. Incidentally, the Seattle Metro buses have the ugliest upholstery I can remember seeing, and I spent five years working at a used furniture store.

Pointless Man

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