by Barry Hastings
Friday was quite a day, wha
t with the release of a 10- to 12-year-old recording of Trump, talking “women” with Billy Bush, in which he is clearly heard telling Bush, “If you’re a ‘star’ you can do anything,” he claimed, adding in a slightly hushed voice, ” You can grab ’em by the ‘p- – – y’ or anything you want.”
Quickly following release of the tape, a river (not a stream) of right-wing religious leaders, closely associated with both the GOP, and the national Republican campaign, were trying to tell voters Trump is a much different man today than then. (Very interesting, considering the fact most people change very little after middle age (particularly the rich, powerful and power-hungry.) The constant flood of racism, sexism, filthy innuendo, and hostility to our democratic institutions, flowing from his filthy mouth for the entire 12 to 13 months of the 2016 presidential campaign). Tells most of us, he hasn’t changed a bit.
And, of course, that flow of mindless support for the self-defeating (self-destructive) idiot, was quickly followed by a huge crowd of Republican governors, senators, Congressmen, other state, county, city GOP politicians, parroting the religious nuts. Truly, an amazing scene, unlikely to be paralleled in the lifetimes of my youngest readers.
Ask me, “Were you surprised by Trump’s slip-up, Barry?” No, I was not a bit surprised.
Look back in this web site’s files, way back — over a year ago, when I flatly stated this man would be the destruction and death of a Republican Party sliding toward fascism for many years. In my humble opinion, that particular story, and the many following, comprise the biography of collapse of the party of Abraham Lincoln. Trump’s nomination alone, has upset equilibrium of the entire group of freedom-loving nations, our allies around the globe.
Events of the past few days have given us a clear understanding of the Russians, our most dangerous and persistent enemies. (Jesus, I’m so glad Bernie, nice guy (too nice) that he is, did not win the Democratic nomination.) Frankly, I believe he’s pretty thankful, as well, as Americans are rapidly approaching calamity involving Russia, China, Nukes. A Russian fighter plane, within a week, or so, flew in threatening manner within ten (ten) feet of a U.S. Air Force plane. Less than two months earlier, they buzzed an American Naval ship in the Baltic Sea. Just days ago, Putin’s government formally withdrew from an agreement to cease nuclear research.
Meanwhile, GOP sequestration of funds to up-date and enlarge (increase) our military capacity and capabilities. (When the ‘big one’ goes off, thank the ignorant asses of the GOP Congressional Klan.).
The Russians are coming, the Russians are coming
All this Russia
n harassment, took my thoughts back to a day in 1958. The good ship CGC Clover (crew of 45 enlisted men, six officers; top speed 14 knots, armament — a pre-World War II three-inch cannon, and some old Springfield rifles, dating from WWI. We were cruising out the North side of the Aleutians, our course set for Attu Island — a place occupied by the Japanese in WWII, and scene of a bloody fight between them, and us. They all died there, amongst the ice and snow. Much evidence of the battle still remained there when I visited (often) 1957-58.
On this particular day, our radioman came to the bridge, and told our Captain (James Stewart) an American fishing vessel was reporting harassment by a Russian military patrol boat. The captain told him to pipe it through bridge, which he forthwith did. You could feel the angst in the ship’s every compartment. The event was occurring a long way from us, up near Big, and Little Diomedes Islands. Big D was Russian territory; Little D, much smaller, was a U.S. possession. Big was on the western side of the Bering Straight; Little on the eastern.
Those were the days when the Roosians regularly shot down (or shot at) U.S.A.R and Navy “recon” planes over Arctic regions around that frigid area of the globe. Being military men, we were very much aware of hostility between them and us. Most of us were at least a bit nervous, except for our 2nd class gunners mate (a former “Jar Head,” and survivor of the Chosin Reservoir fight in the Korean War), who came to the bridge to ask the CO if he’d like to break-out ammo for the three-inch gun.
To make a long story short, we never got close to the Diomedes Islands — too damn slow. But something (the crew never learned what) happened to cool the situation. Just another incident in a “cold” (but sometimes “hot”) war.
We used to irritate the officers by coming back aboard somewhat “in the bag” and painting-over the white “C” of the ship’s name in black. The good USCG cutter, “Lover.” Let me tell you something you might not know, sailors most generally love their ship. Though she was poorly armed, rusty, slow as a Tortoise, I loved the old Lover. After all these years, she’s still my favorite ride.
I learned to be a sailor in her. What could be better than that? I have a black and white photo of her, taken at night, with the coast of Attu Island in the background, and the whole illuminated by a drapery of Northern Lights. Sadly, she’s razor blades, or something else by now. For me, I still love the old girl, and grow tender of heart and thought every time I look at her photograph.
That sounds like a fine photo. Perhaps it could be shared with the good readers of Town Broadcast. I love the (revised) name.