Sleeping In On a Black Friday

After a delicious Thanksgiving dinner with our folks and two of their good friends we came home and took a nice nap, and after that we dropped in on a heck of hootenanny at Kirby’s Beer Store, where our good friend Blind Tom Page and four other topnotch players from our surprisingly strong local music scene were playing some tasty Americana. After that we came home and watched the last hour of Martin Scorsese’s excellent movie “The Irishman” on Netflix, and after we finish penning this essay we plan to sleep late and forego the Black Friday shopping frenzy.
If it’s not too late, we’d advise you to do the same. The Wal-Marts are shopping malls are always unusually crazy on the day after Thanksgiving, and the same bargains will be available on Saturday when the shopping is less crazy, and for those who are up to date with these computer thingamajigs that bring us the latest Scorsese movie there’s Cyber Monday coming up when you can get even better deals and have them delivered to your porch.
Better yet that you forego all the crass commercialism of Christmas, or at least procrastinate to the last possible moment, and do some act of kindness rather than spending scarce money, as far as we’re concerned. After giving thanks to God for America and its democratic institutions and tasty meals and awesome music the nation rightly turns its attention to the miraculous and all-important birth of Jesus Christ, but we think our American ancestors were right to spend a only a week or so on it and try keep in it mind throughout the year and look forward to to celebrating Christ’s more all-important resurrection on a hopefully warmer Sunday Easter in the spring.
The weather around here was brutal on Thanksgiving, and probably will be until after Easter, but we’ll try to avail ourselves of the warming holiday spirit this cold and dark season somehow engenders. We’ll keep our eye on the nation’s politics, which looks to be turbulent, but try to keep the seasonal faith that it all works out well in the end..
The damnable corporations and the Christians and the popular culture have commenced the holiday season sooner than we would prefer, but our folks and their friends are doing fine enough despite life’s tragedies and there’s great music being played at Kirby’s Beer Store, so we’ll try to give thanks to God for each and every day. In a few short weeks we’ll celebrate Christ’s birth, and start looking forward to His resurrection in the far-off spring.

— Bud Norman

Happy Thanksgiving, 2019

Today is Thanksgiving Day, which is no time for politics. Better to join family and friends and eat well and talk abut happier subjects. Your local sports teams, the academic award some cousin’s child won, the weather that could be worse, or whatever you come up with.
There’s bound to be something you should be grateful for, so give thanks for that and enjoy the family and friends and fabulous food, and maybe ome football if you can stay awake for it. All the rest of it can wait until tomorrow.

— Bud Norman

An Ill Wind that Blows No Good

The televised impeachment inquiry started of with some damning testimony and big news on Wednesday, but here in our humble prairie hometown the story of the day was about baseball. Wichita’s getting a new team in a fancy new ballpark next spring, and city officials and their business partners announced with much ballyhoo on Wednesday that it will be called the Wichita Wind Surge.
Kansas does get a lot of wind, but according to the Dictionary.com site a “wind surge” is a wind-induced rise in the water level of an inland expanse of water, and can causing flooding if the tidal cycle is right, which has nothing to do with Wichita, which is conspicuously lacking any nearby expanses of water. Over the past century or so the city’s baseball teams have mostly had aviation-related names to tout its status as the “Air Capital of the World,” such as Pilots and Aviators and Aeros and the most recent Wingnuts, but somebody downtown decided that “Wind Surge” made more sense.
Everyone in town, ourselves very much included, absolutely hates the name. Our Facebook page is full of complaints about it, the local television stations are can only dismayed men and women on the street, everybody at Kirby’s Beer Store agrees the name is awful, and flatulence jokes ae already afloat and a protest petition is already up on the internet. The logo features a pegasus flying through a stylized “W,” which also doesn’t make any apparent sense, and everyone also hates that.
The new team was controversial to begin with. For 80 years watched its professional baseball at the Lawrence-Dumont Stadium, a charmingly old-fashioned ballpark nestled along the Arkansas River with a view that showed off the downtown skyline during a hot summer sunset, but some big bucks developers sold City Hall on the idea that some tax abatements and other subsidies would pay off for everyone if they tore it down and built a modern-looking new ballpark. They promised to promote Wichita from Double-A status all the way to Triple-A, which appealed to the class conscious types down at City Hall, and to replace the ruggedly independent Wingnuts with a major-league affiliated team with players that might wind up in the majors, which might appeal to the so-called fans who never showed up for those fabulous Wingnuts games.
The bargain included some sweetheart deals on several lots of the Delano neighborhood, which was long a charmingly old-fashioned white ghetto but has lately becoming a gentrified entertainment district for the monied less daring young hipsters, and there was a lot of local grousing about that. More grousing followed a suspicious deal that the city cut to expensively overhaul its water system, and Wichita wound up voting the mayor out office in a recent election that had a bigger than usual turnout. A couple of our Facebook friends contend that the out-going mayor chose the name as his final revenge on an ungrateful electorate, and the theory seems plausible.
Even in this age of political polarization, though, sports has somehow once again brought a community together. The left is fed up with all the public-private partnerships the city keeps cooking up because they distrust the private sector, the right objects because of an aversion to government, the sensible center is also skeptical of what’s going on, and everybody hates the new team name. Not since the Wichita State University Wheatshockers were in the Final Four has Wichita been so unified.

Happy Halloween, and All the Rest

Today is Halloween, and we have mixed feelings about the holiday. We’re in favor of kids dressing up in costumes and asking strangers for candy, and cherish our childhood memories of the strange custom, but everything else about Halloween is depressing.
Halloween means the World Series is over, so there won’t be any baseball until pitchers and catchers report to spring training in 102 long days, and even the arrival of basketball season offers only so much solace.
Around here Halloween always brings the first hard blast of winter weather, and this time around there’s even an early snow on the ground. On Sunday morning the clocks will fall back and sundown will start arriving an hour earlier, and we’re not looking forward an extra hour of darkness. These days all the advertisers skip past Thanksgiving and starting selling Christmas on the day after Halloween, and two whole months of Christmas cheer is more than we need.
This year Halloween also kicks off a rare impeachment season, which the Democrats hope to wrap up before Christmas, and that won’t do much for peace on Earth and good will toward men.
All the more reason to enjoy a happy Halloween, and keep a couple of candy bars for yourself.

— Bud Norman

Modernity and Its Pains in the Butt

One of the many vexing things about this modern world is all the neologisms one has to keep up with. In just the past week we’ve had to become familiar with such awful-sounding phrases as “butt dialing,” “throuples,” and “revenge porn.”
“Butt dialing” is apparently what happens when  you have one of those fancy “smart phones” in a back pocket and somehow squirm around in such a way that you inadvertently call up a number the device has somehow memorized. We’re not sure how that happens, as we have an old fashioned “flip phone,” which is an onerous enough concession to the modern world, but that’s what we’re told. Our Dad actually helped us to the latest jive a while back after our brother dialed him up that way. It’s been much in the news lately, because President Donald Trump’s lawyer Rudy Giuliani wound up “butt dialing” a couple of reporters and leaving suspicious and cryptic voice mail messages about Ukraine and former Vice President and potential Democratic nominee Joe Biden and something about needing a few hundred thousand dollars in a hurry.
The current rules of journalistic ethics don’t require reporters to keep “butt dialed” voice mail messages off-the-record, so Giuliani’s rants were all over the cable news and the late night comedy shows. By now Giuliani has bigger troubles than the ridicule he’s received, but he’s done the world no favor by making “butt dialing” a permanent part of the lexicon.
A “throuple” is apparently an exclusive and ongoing menage a trois, and that newly coined word has been in the news lately because recently resigned California Rep. Katie Hill was involved in such a relationship with a staffer and the staffer’s husband. Hill campaigned as an openly bisexual candidate, and given California and the Democratic party she probably would have survived the scandal, despite the inner-office and power imbalance dynamics that have ruined the careers of so many male politicians, but there was also a naked cell phone picture of her smoking a bong in the shower with her female paramour. Given California and the Democratic party she might have survived that, but careful viewers noticed a small tattoo of a Nazi-era Iron Cross on her pelvic area, and it was too much intersectionality even for a California Democrat.
We have no idea who gave the picture to a little-known anti-Democrat pro-Trump web site, which then passed it on to the United Kingdom’s salacious Fleet Street tabloids, which took an unusual interest in a freshman congresswoman from far-off California and was not constrained by America’s more puritan standards for photographs that appear on the front page. One can only assume it was someone Hill would share a naked and bong-smoking moment with, and “revenge porn” is what the young folks call it when someone spitefully disseminates racy pictures of someone else taken in happier times. In announcing her resignation Hill said she would devote herself to the cause of banning “revenge porn,” and we wish her enough success that the cacophonous phrase falls out of use.
For all their unfortunate effects on the public discourse, at least none of these newfangled words will affect us personally. We’ll not own one of the stupid “smart phones” until they stop selling any other kind of phone, and even then we would never put such an expensive device in our back pockets. “Throuples” are out of the question at our age, as we’ve already had more than enough trouble with the old-fashioned couples arrangement. We’ve always been rather camera shy, too, even with our most intimate acquaintances, so any racy pictures you see of us on the internet are fakes, and we can assure you we’ve never even met any of the Kardashians..
Even so, it’s a rather dreary modern world we have to get around in.

— Bud Norman

Zero Tolerance, Zero Intelligence

Over the weekend we came across one of those stories that leave us dumbstruck with outrage, and this one had nothing to do with President Donald Trump. It starts at a high school in Wisconsin where a black security is repeatedly called a “nigger” by a black student, at last warns the student “don’t call me nigger,” and ends with the security guard getting fired for violating the school district’s zero-tolerance policy regarding employees’ use of that word.
“Nigger” is indeed an awful word, and we don’t doubt that the school district was well intentioned in its efforts to banish it, but it’s permanently a part of the language and sometimes necessary to address its awfulness. We’d feel less than forthright if we were to euphemize the student’s language as “the n-word,” and we’re sure that any savvy high school security guard knows he would sacrifice all his street cred if he ddid the same. Go ahead and fire any school district employee who hurls the racial epithet against another human being, but c’mon, give a brother who’s taking a stand against it a break.
These “n-word” controversies have been occurring for decades now, and there always something sadly ridiculous about them. Back in the ’70s Mel Brooks had a hit with a western spoof called “Blazing Saddles” repeated the word dozens of times, always getting a hearty laugh from audiences that understood he was mocking the people who talked that way, but the movie is largely out of circulation and wouldn’t be made in this day and age. Most school districts ban Mark Twain’s “Huckleberry Finn” because of its constant use of the word, even though it’s one of America’s greatest works of literature and ranks with Richard Wright’s “Native Son” and Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man” as the nation’s most compelling anti-racism novels. Never mind a certain masterpiece by the great Joseph Conrad that has the word right in the title.
America’s always vibrant low culture has had similar controversies. The “hip-hop” subculture that sprang out of America’s ghettos and barrios and into the suburbs made great use of the term, although they pronounced and spelled it “nigga,” with the “gangsta rap” group calling itself Niggaz With Attitude making millions off it. It was arguably an effort to appropriate the word and use it as a term of respect and endearment, just as the Indiana Hoosiers and Oklahoma Sooners and Kansas Jayhawks use those old slurs as college nicknames, but we left that to our black friends and avoided use of the word. The fad seems to have faded, as fads tend to do, but there are still some black people who understandably take offense at the word even it has an “a” rather than a “er” at the end, and that security guard is apparently one of them.
We wish him well, and apparently most of his townsfolk do as well, so there’s hope he’ll be reinstated with a proper apology soon. Here’s hoping, too, that someday there won’t be any fuss about that awful word.

— Bud Norman

The Two “Jokers” in the News

The two big stories in the news all weekend were about “Joker,” the comic book movie that’s been drawing a huge box office take and generating even more controversy, and of course the House of Representatives’ impeachment inquiry regarding President Donald Trump, whose seeming solicitations of foreign meddling in the next election are also quite controversial.
Which strikes us interesting coincidence, given that Trump’s defenders on the Sunday morning news shows were insisting that Trump was only joking when he stood before all the network cameras and microphones asked various foreign governments for dirt on a potential election rival.
As much as we’d like to weigh in on the “Joker” controversy, we haven’t seen the movie and probably won’t until it shows up on Netflix, as we have little interest in even the most controversial comic book movies, and we don’t pass judgment on any movies we haven’t seen. So far as we can tell it’s the same controversy we’ve gone through with “The Wild Bunch” and “Bonnie and Clyde” and “A Clockwork Orange” and “Kids” and “Fight Club” and other disturbing and hard-to-watch films about amoral protagonists that are nonetheless praiseworthy cinematic commentaries on their times and the human condition, but we don’t much like comic book movies and might well quit “Joker” halfway through a Netflix viewing, as we’ve done with other much-hyped comic book movies.
By now we’ve been through a lot of political imbroglios, too, but this whole “the President was only joking” defense is something that only came along with the Trump presidency. We remember President Ronald Reagan being caught on a “hot mic” saying he’d launched a nuclear attack on the Soviet Union, but in that case he was clearly joking with what he thought was a few understanding friends, and no harm came from it. In this case it’s not nearly clear Trump was joking when he stood in front of the cameras and microphones and cameras and urged the Ukrainian and Chinese and Australian governments to investigate a potential rival, and it’s arguably harmful to America’s international relationships.
There’s now a second “whistle-blower” alleging that Trump asked the Ukrainian president during a discussion about America’s military aid to the beleaguered country to investigate a potential electoral rival, this one said to have even better credentials and first hand knowledge, which will likely further bolster the Democrats’ impeachment efforts. So far, the President seems to be saying so “what if I did solicit foreign interference in an American election?” while his Sunday morning news show apologists are insisting he’s only joking.
On the American Broadcasting System’s “This Week With George Stephanopoulos,” Ohio Rep. Jim Jordan responded to a question about Trump’s quotes by asking “George, do you really think he was serious about thinking that China’s going to investigate the Biden family?” Meanwhile, on the Columbia Broadcast System’s “Face the Nation,” Missouri Sen. Roy Blunt was saying “I doubt the the China was meant seriously, to tell you the truth.” Earlier, Florida Sen. Marco Rubio had explained to the media that “I think he did it to provoke you to ask me and others and get outraged by it.”
Our guess is that Trump will ultimately go with the “so what if I did?” strategy and leave his Sunday morning apologists under the proverbial bus. He famously asked the Russians on live television to hack his 2016 Democratic opponent’s e-mail, told Stephanopoulos that he didn’t see anything wrong with accepting campaign help from a foreign government, and has lately said on all the networks that the ChiComs and Aussies and the Ukrainian comedian all chip in. He didn’t seem to be joking in any case, and by now he really can’t make it any clearer that he seriously doesn’t see anything wrong about it, but the die-hard fans don’t seem to mind.
Although we can’t find the link, we saw recently saw some YouTube video of a Democratic congresswoman in a swing district defending her pro-impeachment inquiry vote in front of a hostile town hall, and when she made the by now hard-to-refute argument that Trump had solicited foreign help in an American election much of the crowd started chanting “fake news, fake news.” When she cited Trump’s own statements and other hard-to-refute evidence the same members of the crowd started shouting that Trump was merely seeking evidence of his opponent’s corruption from those foreign governments. They seemed to like that better than the “he was only joking” defense.
All of the damn Democrats and most of the inexplicable independents will take a dimmer view of an American president openly inviting foreign interference in an American election, however, and something in our old-fashioned Republican souls doesn’t like it any better. We’d like to think Trump is only joking, but we don’t think it’s something an American president should be joking about.

— Bud Norman

Meanwhile, On the Prairie Sports Pages

As much as we hate to see another summer pass, one of the compensations of autumn is that it soon brings basketball season. That’s a big deal here in hoops crazy Kansas, where all the universities and colleges and the big city and small town high schools and all the local playgrounds pride themselves on how well they play the beautiful game.
The big political story of the moment in is the ongoing argument about whether President Donald Trump or former Vice President and still front-running Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden should be hanged for treason because of the Ukrainian thing, but what caught our eye is the news that the University of Kansas Jayhawks are under scrutiny from the National Collegiate Athletic Association. On a calm and temperate autumn evening here in Wichita there’s a palpable feel of both the dismay and schadenfreude around here.
For those of you not who are blessed to be living in here in the heart of God’s country, we should explain that basketball exposes some class divisions around here. We grew up in the golden age of Wichita’s City League, when it was producing future professional stars, but these days the suburban leagues are holding their own in non-conference games, the small towns still continue to impress and come up with the occasional division one star and professional player, and for the most part it’s a friendly rivalry. The junior colleges in the Jayhawk League of community colleges produce a surprising number of professional players who couldn’t pass the pathetic minimum test scores for a division one are the big sporting attraction in a number of small Kansas towns, but that’s also mostly a friendly rivalry.
At the D-1 level of this hoops crazy state it’s more of a blood sport. The Kansas State University Wildcats have won numerous conference championships and often been top-20 teams, with a couple of Final Fours thrown in, and we don’t think that there are more than 40 states who can claim a college with a more impressive record. Our most beloved Wichita State University Wheatshockers also have a lot of conference titles and top-20 rankings and a couple Final Fours to brag about, and given our coach’s coach-of-the-year-award-winning record there’s hope that they’ll be back in the top 20 and the tourney next March, when we hope Spring will arrive.
There’s no denying, though, damn it, that the KU Jayhawks sit atop the state’s basketball  hierarchy. They’ve been playing the game so long that basketball inventor James Naismith was once the coach, and over more than a century they’ve won a couple of contested and a few more un-contested national championships. They won 14 Big XII championships in a row before falling just short in the injury-riddled last year, routinely send players to stardom in the National Basketball Association, and along with Duke and North Carolina and Kentucky they’re one of the most blue-blooded of the sport’s perennial dynasties. Such a consistent record of excellence does demand some respect, of course, but to a Wildcat or ‘Shocker fan those Jayhawk fans can be damned annoying.
One wonders how they do it year after year, and we won’t be surprised if this latest NCAA probe provides some embarrassing explanation. KU’s basketball team and our still-beloved and similarly blue-blooded University of Oklahoma Sooners football team have occasionally been caught breaking rules. So have all the other blue bloods in the college football and basketball rackets over the past century or so, as well as both major party players in the political racket.
Perhaps there’s some perfectly reasonable explanation for everything, as there occasionally is in both the sporting and political realms, but we’re not bettors and will wait and see. In the meantime we’ll be rooting for the Wildcats and especially the Shockers, and wishing no malice against the Jayhawks, and hoping that it all the rest of everything ends with the the best team winning. Here’s also hoping that the ‘Shocks have a good run.

— Bud Norman

Happy Labor Day

Labor Day is no no day for doing labor, so we decided to re-post last year’s brief and rather lazy post.
Today is Labor Day, which is our most bittersweet holiday of the year. We like the idea of everyone taking a day off to honor all the hard work folks are doing the of the year, and relish the bratwurst and beer and baseball the day always brings, but it’s always followed by a Tuesday when the summer is over.
There will probably be a few more hot and sunny and top-down driving days here on the Kansas plains, but we’re already noticing that the days grow short when you reach September, even here on the western edges of the vast central time zone, and Labor Day always signals that the blissfully lazy and hazy days of summer are officially over. School is back in session, those crawling school speed zone limits are back in effect, pretty much everyone on the streets is back at some unpleasant chore, the nation turns its attention from the elegant sport of baseball to the more primal combat of football, and an even more brutal political season begins.
Our advice is to put all that off until tomorrow. Better you should charbroil a plump bratwurst and put it in a toasted bun with some roasted jalapeño slices and smother it in plenty of mustard, drink a beer or two or three, and enjoy what a great country all that labor has brought forth. There will be time enough for the rest of it starting on damned Tuesday.

— Bud Norman

On the “I Hope You Get Cancer and Die” Style of Political Discourse

Our best advice and usual practice is to never wade into any political controversy on Facebook, and instead just offer happy birthday wishes and condolences for the loss of a loved one and compliments on the cuteness of your friends’ children and pets. Even so, we waded into more controversy and vituperation than we expected on Friday when we frankly told a couple of our friends we didn’t share their frankly expressed glee about the death of David Koch at age 79 after a decades-long battle with cancer.
If you’re not from Wichita or New York City and don’t follow the left-wing demonology closely, you should know that Koch and his brother Charles built their father’s multi-million dollar oil company into a multi-billion dollar oil and paper towel and plastic cup and cookie and various other things conglomerate, and they’ve spent much of their money on various causes. Charles stayed here in Wichita, where you can’t go to the local art museum or symphony or musical theater or zoo or a Wichita State University Wheatshockers’ basketball game without noticing his generous contributions. David Koch cashed in after a cancer diagnosis and moved to New York City, where he seems to have enjoyed everything a rich guy can find in New York City, which we can hardly begrudge him as he spends two decades dying of cancer, and he was a generous donor to New York City’s arts institutions and gave billions more to build a cancer hospital and fund cancer research.
Both brothers donated billions more to political advocacy, though, and lots of reasonable people have reasonable arguments with the policies they advocated. By now the notorious “Koch Brothers” have a starring role in some less reasonable left-wing conspiracy theories the same  way multi-billionaire George Soros does in right-wing conspiracy theories. Their father was a pioneering petroleum engineer who got rich on a contract with Joseph Stalin to extract oil the Soviet Union’s best engineers couldn’t get to, he later became a founding member of the extreme anti-communist John Birch Society, and both brothers inherited his entrepreneurial genius and antipathy to bossy governments and preference for unbounded liberty and very low taxes.
Oftentimes they’d take it too far even for our libertarian instincts, just as the John Birch Society’s anti-communist zealotry often exceeded what our strongly anti-communist principles would prefer, and there’s no denying the very low taxes enacted by the Kansas Governor they funded didn’t pay for themselves as promised. There are all sorts of reasonable arguments reasonable people might make against many Koch-favored policies, but we figure that there are also still reasonable arguments reasonable people might make against bossy governments and for as much individual liberty as a free-market economist figures  a society can get away with. It’s all very complicated when you get down to the details, where the devil is said to be, but we hope we don’t go so deep into it that we start wishing a fellow human being gets cancer and dies.
Yet we have friends on the left that we know to be decent and loving people who exulted in the death of someone because of his different opinions on environmental and tax policy. Both Koch brothers advocated for same-sex marriage and legalized marijuana and abortion rights and as much left-approved individual liberty as a society can get away with, and neither were gun nuts nor supporters of President Donald Trump, and they held a variety of views on the Iraq war and various other issues our friends on the left would begrudgingly agree with, but apparently 100 percent fealty to the one true leftist faith is required to qualify as a human being. We’re told that Koch knew damned well he was poisoning the Earth, and that capitalism was a globalist conspiracy conceived to impoverish the fattened working class, and that he twirled his mustache and demonically laughed about it as he lit up cigars with hundred dollar bills stolen from the proletariat, so he therefore had it coming, and some of our friends seem to truly believe that their seething hatred of the man somehow demonstrates their moral and intellectual superiority.
There’s plenty of the same poisonous “I hope you get cancer and die” rhetoric on the right, of course, including from our internet troll of a President of the United States. We have friends on the right we know to be decent and loving people but are suddenly willing to enforce border laws with maximum cruelty and forgive anything President Donald Trump says or does so long as it gives “butt hurt” to the “libtards.” The right also demands  100 percent fealty to its one true faith, which used to prominently include Christianity, with its suddenly outdated superstitious mumbo-jumbo about loving one’s enemies and judging not lest  ye be judged and come let us reason together, but  lately seems whatever hateful thing Trump is saying. Our leftward friends should give a listen to talk radio talker Mark Levin, who every weekday shrieks that they’re a bunch of dirty hippies who hate God and America and the Constitution and everything good, and that they should all get cancer and die, and will defiantly spit out that “Yeah, I said it.” He seems to make a good living riling up the faithful that way, but his business model clearly doesn’t include persuading any reasonable person who might tune in but is not already fully on board.
Neither side is at all persuasive to anyone not fully on board with their “I hope you get cancer and die” stuff, but both sides think the other side is winning with it, and are convinced that  even more hateful rhetoric is therefore required, so the hateful rhetoric will probably continue to escalate. Neither side will ever persuade  the other to commit the mass suicide that is  so hoped for, neither side will be shamed into silence by fear of a “tweet” or Facebook post, and at this point we can only hope they don’t start brawling it out and killing each other the way the Nazis and Commies used to do on the streets of the late Weimar German Republic. Our friends on the right will think us squishy globalist RINOs, and our friends on the left will call us corporatist sell-outs and capitalist running pig-dogs, and some on both sides might agree that both we and David Koch fall too short of the one true faith to be fully human, but we’ll be hoping that friendships persist, the center somehow holds, a less hateful conversation arrives us at some sufficient compromise solution to at least a few of our problems, and that no one gets cancer and dies.
In the end we’ll all be dead, and we’ll all have it coming, and none of us will have been either right about everything or wrong about everything all along,  so we’ll also hold out continued hope in that outdated superstitious mumbo-jumbo about a merciful  God ultimately judging all our souls. Sorry to interrupt anyone’s gleeful orgy of hate,  but we implore our high-minded and self-righteous friends on both the left and the right to stick to the best policy arguments they can make, stop reveling in anyone’s cancer death, and leave the ad hominem attacks and outright hate speech to the more intellectually lazy and unabashedly hateful types.
There are already plenty of those on both sides, and for now they both seem to be winning.

— Bud Norman