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Kid Berwyn

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Member since: Mon May 6, 2019, 08:01 PM
Number of posts: 3,942

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It's pronounced, "MORONtaur."


"His words weigh a ton." -- Speaker Pelosi


The Heinous Anus (graphic warning)

Rhymes with slimes.

The night I chased Miss Universe with Donald Trump

Hey, it was the 70's. What can I say?

Salon, MARCH 1, 2018

In order for me to tell this story, I’m going to have to introduce you to the Lion’s Head bar in Greenwich Village, and in order to introduce you to the Lion’s Head, I’m going to have to introduce you to Archie Mulligan, one of its legendary bartenders, and in order to introduce you to Archie Mulligan, I’m going to have to tell a fairly long story about one of Archie’stall tales, which makes this a perfect introduction to a story about Donald Trump.

It was the late 60’s, and I discovered the Lion’s Head on Christopher Street because it was next door to the Village Voice, where I was contributing freelance articles. Located a few steps below street level, the Head was narrow and dark and wood-paneled — in short, everything you would imagine a Greenwich Village bar to be. It was known as a writer’s bar, a place where you came if you were a writer with a drinking problem, or a drinker with a writing problem. It was sometimes hard to distinguish between the two, even among the fairly well-known writers who were frequently in residence. There was Pete Hamill, the newspaper columnist; Ted Hoagland, the nature writer; Joel Oppenheimer, the poet; David Markson, a novelist whose manuscript for “Wittgenstein’s Mistress” was rejected by publishers 54 times; Fred Exley, the author “A Fan’s Notes;” Joe Flaherty, the former longshoreman turned Village Voice columnist who managed Norman Mailer’s campaign for mayor of New York City in 1969; Lanford Wilson, the playwright who wrote “Hot l Baltimore;” the literary critic Wilfrid Sheed; and songwriters from Liam Clancy to Jerry Jeff Walker to Dave Van Ronk to Bob Dylan.

Presiding over all of this on the day shift was Archie Mulligan, with his wavy red hair and hawkish nose and impish grin and grandly expansive catalog of tall tales. To hear Archie tell it, he was the brother of jazz saxophonist Gerry Mulligan, who being conveniently located on the West Coast, was unavailable to confirm this assertion of Archie’s. Archie contended that in his day he had dated some of the biggest stars — Kim Novak was one, and, Archie said, Peggy Lee and he had had such a memorable night together, she still always gave him a call when she was in town.

Archie was full of tall tales, but none taller than the tale of his three Purple Papal Papers. Archie insisted that he had died three times, had been administered last rites by priests, and had somehow risen from the dead to live again. I can’t remember the cause of his first two deaths, but the third had happened at O’Henry’s Steakhouse, over on Sixth Avenue. While working there one day, he somehow fell down the basement stairs and struck his head and died. Conveniently enough, there was a Catholic priest on the premises — priests were always nearby when Archie died — and when they couldn’t get a pulse from Archie, he administered last rites. Archie was brought back to life in an ambulance, and later the priest made a report to the Vatican about the miracle of the resurrection of Archie Mulligan. The Vatican, according to Archie, issued his third Purple Papal Paper commemorating the new miracle as they had the other two times he died.

Well, Archie of the Purple Papal Papers was bartending one afternoon around 5 p.m. when a call came in on the house phone for me. “Lucian, are you here?” he called out, covering the receiver and looking down the bar straight at me, checking to see if I was receiving calls that evening. I took the call. It was Mary Nichols, the city editor of the Village Voice. It seemed that one of Mary’s best friends owned a PR firm uptown that had been hired by real estate developer Donald Trump to promote a party he was giving that very evening for the contestants in the Miss Universe Pageant. It was to be a big, New York style shindig, and he wanted the party crowded with New York’s movers and shakers — opinion makers and businessmen and political figures and people from the media. He’d probably told her he wanted “the best people,” because Trump wanted to be surrounded by only “the best people,” as we have come to learn.



The Lancet precisely diagnosed America's psychosis.

The Trump administration's further erosion of the CDC will harm global cooperation in science and public health, as it is trying to do by defunding WHO. A strong CDC is needed to respond to public health threats, both domestic and international, and to help prevent the next inevitable pandemic. Americans must put a president in the White House come January, 2021, who will understand that public health should not be guided by partisan politics.

Source: https://www.thelancet.com/journals/lancet/article/PIIS0140-6736(20)31140-5/fulltext

"Lock her up" means "Heil Trump"

"Obamagate" and "Lock her up": Pointing the way toward "Heil Trump"

It’s not just a chant at Trump's rallies or lame wordplay in his tweets. It’s his call to fascist rule

By Lucian K. Truscott IV
Salon, May 16, 2020


There is a perfect symmetry to the involvement of Michael Flynn in Trump's latest attempt to deflect attention from his inept handling of the coronavirus crisis, which has caused the infections of more than 1.4 million Americans and the deaths of more than 87,000 nationwide. Flynn enjoyed a singular distinction during the transition between the Obama and Trump administrations, besides his coziness with Russian bankers and ambassadors. Obama gave Trump only one piece of personal advice during their private meeting in the White House after Trump was elected: Whatever you do, don't hire Michael Flynn. For anything. Ever.

But Trump loved Flynn. It had been Flynn who led the delegates at the 2016 Republican National Convention in chanting "lock her up" after mentioning the alleged criminal behavior of Hillary Clinton as secretary of state. As with Trump's use of "Obamagate" as a shorthand for Obama's alleged corruption while in office, Flynn's allegations against Clinton were equally vague and shorn of specificity. Trump had already been encouraging his crowds to chant "lock her up" at his campaign rallies in 2016, and has continued the practice ever since. I don't know of a single rally Trump has held since he's been in office when the crowd didn't break into the "lock her up" chant, with Trump allowing the fascist bellowing to wash over him as he stands at the podium, smiling with approval at the crowd.



The Compassion of Donald J Trump

Donald Trump Shared a Hilarious Story About Not Wanting to Help a Dying Man

"He was right in front of me, and I turned away. I didn’t want to touch him."

GQ, September 28, 2017


Once upon a time, Trump explained matter-of-factly, he was hosting a charity ball at Mar-a-Lago at which several members of the Marine Corps were in attendance, along with a host of rich people "eager to get their picture in the Palm Beach Post," as he put it. Lo and behold, at some point during the evening, an 80-year-old man—"very wealthy," Trump adds, but also, "a lot of people didn't like him"—fell off the stage and hit his head. Trump thought the man had died. "And you know what I did?"


I said, ‘Oh my God, that’s disgusting,’ and I turned away. I couldn’t—you know, he was right in front of me, and I turned away. I didn’t want to touch him.

As Stern and company yukked it up at this expertly-delivered punchline, Trump continued.

He’s bleeding all over the place, I felt terrible. You know, beautiful marble floor, didn’t look like it. It changed color. Became very red.

If you overheard a stranger on the bus saying these things aloud, you'd be wondering if you had stumbled upon the Law and Order: SVU set while they film the standard opening vignette that prompts a concerned bystander to summon Benson and Stabler to the scene.

And you have this poor guy, eighty years old, laying on the floor unconscious, and all the rich people are turning away. ‘Oh my God! This is terrible! This is disgusting!’ And you know, they’re turning away. Nobody wants to help the guy. His wife is screaming—she’s sitting right next to him, and she’s screaming.”



Says a lot when 200,000 lives don't mean shit to GOP

Thanks a lot, Putin. You too, Barr.

"We came with fees for all mankind."

Can’t wait.

Amy Goodman and Juan Gonzalez are the BEST IN THE BUSINESS.

All they’ve done throughout their 24-year professional lives together with their team is tell the truth.

Sometimes, what they report ticks me off, but I know it’s what they found.

Truth, the antidote for what we’re living:

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