One fine day on the C

The House January 6th Select Committee's work is a waste of time. They keep digging deeper and deeper, finding more and more criminality, turning over names to the Justice Department, and eventually they'll probably recommend prosecution for some minor figures. Not Trump, though, I'm very nearly certain.

May 12, 2022

It's an unwritten but always-followed rule: Presidents are above the law.

A dour hooray for the Committee's work, sure, but toward what end? There's no indication that the Justice Department gives half a hoot about prosecuting any of these many crimes. Probably some junior official minnows will get their fins cooked, but only small fry — no trout or salmon, not under the leadership of Justice Dept senior puffball Merrick Garland.

And of course, the November elections loom closer and closer. That's when Republicans will take control of the House (and probably the Senate), because Democrats have delivered so little, and been so quiet about what little they have delivered, and also very hush-hush about the dangers Republicans actively pose to the fabric and future of America as we once knew her.

Once Republicans are in charge in the House, everything the Committee has uncovered will be shelved, and the Committee itself will be disbanded. The best outcome to plausibly hope for is that members of the Committee will issue an unofficial report, carrying no weight whatsoever. It'll be a book, probably, selling for $25 and read only by the left leadership. It'll be briefly and barely covered in the news, and then forgotten, and Trump and his criminal cohorts will get away with everything.

As always when I wallow in such pessimism, I would love to be wrong, but you know and I know — I'm not.

The C bus was approaching a busy stop, and in the shelter a largish white guy, hair everywhere and clothes unkempt, was flapping his arms in the air, apparently losing an argument or vehement discussion with someone who wasn't there. This chap was clearly cuckoo, but by the rules of riding the bus, the driver should've pulled over and let him board. He was watching the bus approach, stepping toward the curb, where the bus's door would open.

Rules were broken, though. No-one else was waiting at the bus shelter, and the driver didn't stop the bus. That's probably wise, was my thought. When it became clear the bus wasn't slowing, big hairy white guy switched his arm pattern from random flapping to criss-cross waves, trying to get the driver's attention, but the bus continued rolling past the bus shelter.

"Hey!" the guy shouted, and then "Hey!" again. It was two hells of a shout, too. We were on a bus and buses are loud, on a busy street where traffic was loud, but his shouts came through so plainly that everyone on the bus and everyone on the sidewalk looked up from their iPhones. Like Old Man River, though, we just kept rolling along.

There was a red light at the intersection, so the bus stopped, and hairy loud guy sprinted toward us, shouting "Hey!" twice more. When he reached the bus he flew off the sidewalk, gave a fifth and final very loud "Hey!" and banged on the bus's glass door. The door, though, remained closed. He banged again. The light turned green, the bus pulled away, and the guy's profanities faded into the distance behind us.

Nobody on the bus said a word, but if we had it would've been, "Thanks." Everyone aboard was unanimously glad that the driver broke the rules and didn't stop. Hairy arm-waving dude would've been trouble on the bus, the driver knew it, no bout adoubt it and nobody needs that, so we just kept rolling along.

Whoever invented Capcha should be forced into an endless loop of crosswalks, trees, and buses for the rest of his/her life, preferably without his/her glasses.

I was walking toward the coffee shop, when a boy and a girl came out the door, carrying lattes to go. Not certain, but I think they were the same couple I noticed in the same coffee shop a week ago, only they were younger than I'd thought. Him: a slightly chubby redhead with freckles. Her: Asian, cute but boobless, so my guess is that they were ten or eleven years old. Still are, probably, as this was only yesterday.

As I walked toward them, the girl pulled out her cell phone and they both posed for what I believe is called a 'selfie' (I am so hip to the times, baby). The boy flipped a finger to the camera, they both laughed, and under my COVID mask I laughed too, though I don't think either of them noticed me at all. I'm old, and therefore invisible. I wouldn't notice me, either. Nobody would.

And now, the news you need, whether or not you knew you needed it.

♦ ♦ ♦ 

US secretly issued subpoena to access Guardian reporter's phone records 

The US justice department secretly issued a subpoena to gain access to details of the phone account of a Guardian reporter as part of an aggressive leak investigation into media stories about an official inquiry into the Trump administration’s child separation policy at the southern border.

♦ ♦ ♦ 

China finalizes Hong Kong police state by installing man who led crackdown on protests as its next leader 

♦ ♦ ♦  

Starbucks workers win unions in Florida, Maryland, and Colorado 

♦ ♦ ♦  

A common sunscreen ingredient turns toxic in the sea — anemones suggest why 

♦ ♦ ♦  

Mr Pancake, Mr Hambone, Mr Softee, and some other Misters 

♦ ♦ ♦  

Leaked memo reveals Apple's anti-union talking points for store managers 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

One-word newscast, because it's the same news every time...

♦ ♦ ♦

The End
Justin Green
David Walden 

Cranky Old Fart is annoyed and complains and very occasionally offers a kindness, along with anything off the internet that's made me smile or snarl. All opinions fresh from my ass. Top illustration by Jeff Meyer. Click any image to enlarge. Comments & conversations invited.
Tip 'o the hat to All Hat No Cattle, Linden Arden, ye olde AVA, BoingBoing, Breakfast at Ralf's, Captain Hampockets, CaptCreate's Log, John the Basket, LiarTownUSA, Meme City, National Zero, Ran Prieur, Voenix Rising, and anyone else whose work I've stolen without saying thanks.
Extra special thanks to Becky Jo, Name Withheld, Dave S, Wynn Bruce, and always Stephanie...


  1. This is for my friends at Amazon and Starbucks, sung by Bruce. And make no mistake: during the last stanza of Joe Hill EVERYBODY stands no matter where you are. . .



    1. That's sweet, sir, and effective. You got my hopes up unduly, though. When you said "sung by Bruce" I was hoping for Boxleitner...

    2. Well, I wrote the comment yesterday which was Mr Boxleitner's 72nd birthday so I can understand your confusion. I thought Mr Springsteen deserved the mononymous treatment for having the balls to sing a union song in Florida. Bruce and I are also 72, but we got there first.


    3. You know what? I have never understood the very high esteem most folks have for the Bruce of Springsteen. The dude can sing and he's sung some great songs, and if you buy me a ticket to a Springsteen concert I'll go and have a lot of fun, but I've never heard him as the greatest in his generation or anything. To my tin ear he's no better, no worse, than say, Pat Benatar, John Mellencamp, Tom Petty, Bob Seger, Bonnie Tyler, etc, or a dozen others I like a lot.

      I am now ready to be devoured alive.

  2. Wow, that was a good one, a moment in time on the bus, no equal rights for crazy white guys who need a ride. Reminds me of the latest essay I'm writing, about how we create our own realities. Also reminds me of the unwritten rules of baseball: crazy white guy= no ride. And may i just add to the baseball discussion here that i don't like the designated hitter for the national league as well and also i don't like shifts, therefore i'm an honorary cranky old fart, well, maybe not so honorary...

    1. I haven't paid much attention to baseball in decades. What's really the big deal about shifts? The defense has always put on shifts for predictable hitters...

      Screw the DH rule entirely.

    2. Bob Gibson hit 26 home runs in his career, two of them in the World Series, and managed to hit over .200 lifetime, and Shohei Ohtani manages to get a hit now and then. Either have pitchers take batting practice and work with the hitting coach or use a DH. And Dan Wilson, a hero in Seattle who nobody else has heard of was on the radio yesterday and made a good case for the pitching clock. It seems sad to use a clock in a game that theoretically can go on forever, but I guess in one way or another we're all on the clock.


    3. Well, the intelligent comment I feel compelled to add to this is, PB & Cheeto sandwich? Oh man, that's what's for dinner.

  3. The difference between liberals and conservatives is the liberals mostly want to live their lives, vote correctly, and move on.
    The conservatives on the other hand are zealously activist even down to the level of school board elections pursuing their fascist agenda to remake America to what they want it to be, like the Supreme Court.
    I guess it's fair, it's politics, but our activists, though they do a lot of good work I hope fighting back against the fascist agenda, seem to be more interested in things like trans-gender rights, which affects less than one per cent of the population.
    Yes, it's gonna get more ugly.

    1. There's a whole hellova truth in those first two sentences, but I wanna understand *why* it's so obviously true. And I wanna understand it without having to do any more activism myself, so I guess that answers the question.

      I did lots of activism when I was younger and believed in things like truth, justice, and the American way. Now that I don't believe, it's gotten so comfortable in the recliner.


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