Sen. Bernie Sanders, Independent from Vermont, held the senate floor for 90 minutes yesterday, talking directly to President Obama, pleading, cajoling, scolding--begging the president to take the lead on obvious things like lifting the poor and the downtrodden out of the depths, protecting them from any more grief, and demanding that the rich pay their fair share of U.S. taxes.

In what's called "a letter to President Obama", Sen. Sanders, a man Diogenes would be proud to call an honest man, said this:

Rachel Maddow, dear-heart, I'm begging you--never, ever do beat poetry at the bongo drum AGAIN!  Gawd!  That was painful! I'm telling you, it was excruciating!  I love you truly but that was just gawdawful.  Really.

I've always dreamed of someday meeting the Dalai Lama (hasn't everybody?); sitting down with him, picking his brain, asking him the questions of the day:  What do you think about war and famine and global warming?  If I knew I was actually going to have the chance, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be working up a joke to tell him.  But then I'm not Australian anchor Karl Stefanovic, who had been saving his best joke (I'm guessing) for his best interview ever only to find it painfully lost, in translation and ever

It's been six months now since Rick Snyder tied himself to the Mackinac Center for Public Policy's purse strings, letting the largest right-wing think tank in the country aid him in becoming the puppet-governor of Michigan, my Michigan.  If my beautiful state has any claim to fame these days, it's in the streaming melodrama of a calculated, very public disintegration of the rights and liberties of its people.

I don't always read or agree with Maureen Dowd, but I do have her on my blogroll and now and then a title grabs me.  Yesterday she wrote "Your Tweetin' Heart".  Yes, I knew it was going to be about Anthony Weiner, but I read it anyway because sometimes her take on odd things like that is refreshingly different. 

We were all a-twitter last week by the big news that a close-up photo of a suggestive section of a pair of gray jockey shorts was sent to a young follower from Rep.

Memorial Day is a United States federal holiday observed on the last Monday of May. Formerly known as Decoration Day, it commemorates U.S. Service Members who died while in the military service.^[1] First enacted by formerly enslaved African-Americans ^[2] to honor Union soldiers of the American Civil War – it was extended after World War I to honor Americans who have died in all wars.

Memorial Day often marks the start of the summer vacation season, and Labor Day its end.
Begun as a ritual of remembrance and reconciliation after the Civil War, by the early 20th century, Memorial Day was an occasion for more general expressions of memory, as ordinary people visited the graves of their deceased relatives, whether they had served in the military or not. (Wikipedia - Memorial Day)

This is a day of pilgrimage in big cities and small villages all across the country.  Cemeteries will be filled with people cleaning headstones, placing flowers, connecting and remembering.  There will be life in those places of internment.  I see cemeteries not as sad and depressing depositories of the dead, but as vibrant places alive with personalities, infused with memories, steeped in unique beauty.  I see them as outdoor galleries of fine art and folk art, ripe for photographing, which I do every chance I get, but with the sense that I am treading on hallowed ground.

 After months of building up to this, on Wednesday Oprah Winfrey said goodbye to her still-huge audience and ended her daytime show.

The Rapture is coming tomorrow. Tomorrow at 6 PM three percent of the citizens of the world will be swept up and deposited in what they hope will be God's loving arms. The rest of us can look forward to five months of tribulations, until October 21, when a worldwide catastrophe will take place and we'll all be gone.

Nearly every morning lately I wake up feeling as though my heart is ripping out of my chest.  My loves are still my loves, my health is okay, and it looks like there's a chance my measly but adequate bank account may outlive me, so for a while there the cause of these major palpitations was a bit of a mystery.

Well, okay, I guess you've heard the big news of the week--the finding and killing of Osama bin Laden.  Most of us thought the whole operation was pretty impressive--the stealth helicopters, the brave Navy Seals, the efficient execution of the world's worst enemy--it was all good.  But for ex-presidential candidate Donald Trump it was the worst news possible after a really, really horrible weekend.  First, on Saturday night he arrived at the

It took me years to finally venture over to Twitter to see what all the fuss was about.  I was one of those who thought everything about it was silly, including and especially the name.  And what was with that 140 character limit?  Anything I wrote would be called a "Tweet".  Uugh.  No!

Thursday, April 28 10 PM:  Is anything else going on these days besides the Wedding of the Century, The marriage of Katherine ( Kate) Middleton and William (Will) Mountbatten-Windsor?  (This time the wedding of the century really is the wedding of the century--the century is young and until another big wedding comes along this is it.)

 Michigan, our wonderful, beautiful jewel of a state--the only state in the union that looks like a mitten reaching up to grab a leaping rabbit, the only state surrounded on three sides by three different really Great Lakes, the only state that can lay claim to both Vernor's Ginger Ale and Sanders Hot Fudge Sauce, has been in the news a lot lately.

Today is Earth Day.  Ever since 1970 we've been setting aside April 22 to celebrate the birth of the earth. (It also happens to be Lenin's birthday but I promise there is absolutely no connection.  I only mention it because some subversive with a tea cup is sure to bring it up, and I want to be able to say I got there first.)

My pal Jan started this yesterday on Facebook with a "Hooray!  Hooray!  It's Grilled Cheese Sandwich Day".  I'm shocked that I didn't know about GCSD.  I love those things!  But when Jan crabbed about her favorite sammich getting the recognition it so richly deserves for only one day, I wondered what I could do to make her feel better.

Here it is!

The Republican budget will wreak havoc on hard-working Americans. They have proven, once again, their unwavering commitment to taking trillions of dollars from the pockets of the middle class and giving ever more generous windfalls to millionaires and large corporations. They want to throw seniors off Medicare. Their slash-and-burn tactics will throw hundreds of thousands of people out of work. They will eliminate health care for children and those with disabilities.

FRIDAY FOLLIES: Maine again. Gospel Teens, Homeless Artists, and all that's Rich

Oh, man! Maine's rookie Tea Party governor, Paul LePage can't get a break.  He's still getting all kinds of flack for taking down those nonessential murals showing nothing but the damned hoi polloi, but on top of that, he got word that 63% of the  mural was paid for by a Federal grant and the Feds aren't looking kindly on his hotshot actions.  Seems  he broke an essential clause in the contract that clearly stated he was supposed to notify people and give them a good reason for pulling those murals from those walls, and then those essential people would have to agree.   So if the Feds demand their money back at current market value, which would be higher now with all the attention, it's the taxpayers who would have to foot the bill.

But once again, Big Business demands the action and the taxpayers get stuck.  Life just keeps imitating life.

Once again I'm drawn to the story of the Maine Labor Murals.  They're safely hidden out of sight where no one will be corrupted by those images for a while, but that doesn't mean they won't be talked about. Judy Taylor, the artist who painted the murals is offering to hang her father's war medal on one of the empty walls: