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In 2016, there were those Democrats who constantly said “Vote Blue No Matter Who.”  The problem was, they started in about March, and their comments were specifically directed at Sanders voters, with the assumption that Hillary would be the nominee.
Initially, I agreed with them, and several times (hundreds) responded politely that of course I would, but right now it is (was) primary season, and I intended to support my candidate of choice.  But they continued, apparently not satisfied with my answer, so I eventually changed it to: Fuck you, it’s Bernie or Bust, because you are a bunch of overbearing, obnoxious, gas-lighting control freaks, or else trolls with a contract and I’m not sure which is worse.
And Trump got elected.  They blame us, we blame them.
Now, you’d think the criteria for long term political success would be learning your lesson after a defeat, and I think a perusal of a few political biographies would bear that out, but apparently the “lesson” the Blue No Matter Who brigade “learned” was that they didn’t start early enough.  This election cycle, they started right out of the gate.  We are still 6 months away from the election year even beginning, and 16 months out from the election, but I’m getting at least 10 such messages a day.
They are as ubiquitous as Jehovah’s Witnesses, showing up at rallies and entertainment events and anyplace else they are not wanted.  They are as persistent as a mosquito in your tent with their annoying whine, as loud as the jackhammer outside your bedroom window on the one morning you thought you could sleep in.
The answer, however, is still no.  If the eventual Democratic nominee does not support Medicare for All, saving the planet and converting to a green economy, getting big money out of politics, ending foreign wars, ending private prisons, legalizing marijuana, raising the minimum wage, making universities free, and paying for it all with whopping tax increases for the rich (which is still well short of the guillotines many of us would prefer), we will not support or vote for them.

I just remembered I didn’t write a blog last night.  I also remembered it a couple of times this morning, but either sat down to smoke another joint, or to watch a couple of episodes of Ken Burns’ Civil War.  (the Southern Writer they keep coming back to as an expert gets a bit teary eyed and it’s almost inappropriate how bad he feels about the South losing).
But, since remembering and doing something to remedy the situation are two different things, it never got done and I just remembered it again now.
So, after a very lazy morning and early afternoon (wife and kids are at the cottage) I went up to Letna Park to see the big demonstration, which is probably still going on.  In fact, I’m almost sure it is.
You never know when you go to these things.  People were saying 500,000 but I was a bit skeptical of that because I’ve been to a lot of demonstrations  where you’re expecting a huge crowd and a dozen or two people show up so you hastily relabel it a candlelight vigil and try to put the best face on it.
But, as I was still walking through the park I began noticing that every time trails converged, there were more people, and all moving the same direction, and some carrying signs.  (Andre Babiš, the Czech Prime Minister, is a crook and everybody wants him to resign).  When I got there I realized there was already a huge crowd, you couldn’t get within 200 meters of a direct view of the main stage.  I looked behind me and could see no end to the crowd the direction I’d come, and people were arriving from other directions as well.
I worked my way toward the back of the crowd.  I was glad to see such numbers (Babiš is often referred to as a mini-Trump) but when I got past the 2nd big screen and realized the crowd was just as big behind that that I started to get impressed.
It was a very Czech demonstration.  Parents with kids.  Groups of friends.  Some old people.  Nobody pushing or crowding.  People were making their opinions known, but there wasn’t a lot of shouting, and the snack stands at the edge of the crowd were doing great.
I reached the back of the crowd, and the edge of the parking lot on the far side, and noticed that lots of people were still coming in.  I stood and people watched for about 20 minutes and thought “Dang, they just keep coming).”  Then I looked up the street and saw that it was a solid block of people on one sidewalk, going back for as far as the eye could see, and more people crossing the street all the time.
I looked up and saw people on rooftops.
As I left, I went the other direction, back down toward Strossmayerovo Namesti and then the river, and I notice a non-stop parade coming in that direction, and every tram that stopped disgorged more.  After a few block I started thinking “Mayb some of these people are out just walking, and not part of this demostration at all, and every time I thought that, I’d see somebody with a sign, but eventually the crowd did dwindle and I was just back in the real world.
But it was several blocks.  I’ll bet they reached their 500,000 target, easily.

Over an article in Vanity Fair, written by a lady named Bess Levin, who might be an otherwise nice person, I don’t know, the headline read “Sanders:  Warren Only Surging Because She Has Ovaries.”
Now, knowing full well that Bernie Sanders would never say such a thing, I went ahead and read the article.  Here’s what he actually said. “I think that there are a certain number of people who would like to see a woman elected, and I understand that. There are people who would like to see somebody who is younger, and I understand that also. There are a lot of factors out there.”
Please note that he did not use the word ‘ovaries’ anywhere or say anything derogatory or dismissive about women.
Please note that he did not specifically mention Elizabeth Warren at all.  Tulsi Gabbard, Kamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar, Kristen Gillibrand and Marianne Williamson are also people in possession of ovaries, and every single one of them is younger than Bernie.
Please note that there are, in fact, a lot of individuals who do want to see a woman elected, and they are the backbone of most of the women’s campaigns.
Please note that one of the main arguments people use against Bernie is that he’s too old.  Not that I buy that, Bernie’s in great shape, and sharp as a tack.  But it is an attack used against him.
Please note that Sanders statement was humble, non-combative, and an admission that people have different reasons for voting and that he understands that.
Damn.  How can you not love the guy?
If you want a woman, and you want somebody younger, you should take a good look at Tulsi Gabbard.  Much closer to Bernie’s positions than Warren, and not a corporate sellout.
As for Vanity Fair, they should be ashamed of themselves.  I’d call for a boycott, but I don’t think I’ve ever bought a copy.

Many years ago, like about 6 or 7, I started a page called “Poems about Paintings,” largely to give myself writing prompts and also because I’ve noticed that nobody pays a damn bit of attention to my poems unless there’s some gimmick, like if they’ve been set to music, or they are illustrated, and then there was my Tarot series which was fairly popular.
It worked real well for a while.  I had a Facebook friend at the time who was posting nothing but art, generally unknown Plein Air (which was a new term for me, but basically it means a landscape artist, painting outdoors) artists, and that was an unending source.  I cranked out a lot of poems, because trees, sailboats, waterfalls all can be symbols of some aspect of our reality, and I use them in other poems as well.  The artists, as a general rule, liked the idea, and the number of people who viewed each poem increased from one to two, me and the artist.
There was a period when Facebook screwed me up, but it was partly my own fault for being inept with computers.  Every time I made an entry, they doubled it.  So, there were two and I’d delete one.  After a couple of weeks I realized that when I deleted one I’d deleted both, and I didn’t have them backed up or stored anywhere.  I lost  about 20 poems that way.
Lately, I’ve been slow about making entries.  I’m using other writing prompts (everything is a writing prompt.  The whole world is a writing prompt)  I’m no longer Facebook friends with that person (Don’t really remember why.  Partly got bored with him, I guess, or maybe it was a political argument), but occasionally I’ll see a painting or a photograph and it will trigger a poem, so I post it.
But the page has become difficult.  I go to it and find it next to impossible to sign in as administrator, to get pictures to upload to the page, or to figure out what people actually see.
That’s how it was last night.  It took me about an hour and then it was only after I’d left a scathing attack on Facebook in the comments section (that definitely included the words “Fuck you,”  that I found the button that let me post, and let me delete that comment, and all was well.
Sometimes it’s good to vent.

Just came back from the poetry reading at beautiful Cafe Centrala,  just across the Vltava river.  It is practically line of sight from this neighborhood to that, but getting there is a bit more complex.
The readings there are always very informal, that’s like the theme, that’s something that very much sets it apart from other open mike nights.  I kind of like it.  I’m not saying all open mikes should be like that, but it makes a welcome change.
We were sitting around the cow, a plaster statue of a cow that sits in the lawn across the street from the pub, some on chairs and some on crates, and the night’s topic (that’s another thing with this particular poetry reading.  It gives you a prompt) was ‘Heat’ and I’d written a piece about the sun and hoped the reading would begin while it was still visible so I could point at it for dramatic effect.  That worked out fine although it   did  start very late.
And it wasn’t super well attended.  There were 7, maybe 8 people there, even at the peak.
But, some interesting poetry was presented, and people talked with each other after each was over, about pigeons, about summers in India, about bad acid trips, about Shakespeare and Lana Del Rey.  I really like it that we talk about the poems.  It shows somebody is listening.  Apparently, a lot of people listen closer than I do.  I feel a bit guilty about that sometimes.
Also, despite there being fewer than 10 people present, there was a definite international flavor.  We had poems in Czech, and Turkish, and Hindi in addition to English.
By the time I left it was just getting dark.  I’d taken the tram there, which was kind of frustrating Change at Palmovka means getting off and walking back, to a different stop.  Then it inched across the bridge, I’m not sure why but that does not inspire confidence.  So, I decided to walk back and it was lovely.  Along between some luxury flats in the river.  The river, in the lowering light.  Around the driving range, and through the big, grass field which will someday, no doubt, be more office buildings but, for now, you can just stand still and look at the sky, and there you are back to Invalidovna.