There’s an old adage “never let the facts get in the way of a good story.”
In the case of our current president, it’s more like “never let the facts get in the way of stirring up your base with some good old racism.”
T-rump met with South African president Cyril Ramaphosa in the Oval Office last week, and proceeded to ambush (a.k.a. “Zelenskyy”) him. It’s sad when the leaders of other countries — our allies no less — are used as props to push false narratives, fodder for the crazy cannon that is Trump’s lips.
Trump rolled out a TV screen and dimmed the lights like it was a junior high health class, and proceeded to show a highly edited video.
Pointing to footage of a long line of crosses on both sides of a country road packed with cars, Trump said, “These are burial sites right here. Burial sites. Over a thousand of white farmers. And those cars are lined up to pay love on a Sunday morning. Each one of those white things you see is a cross. And there’s approximately a thousand of them. They’re all white farmers.”
However, the crosses do not mark graves. The video is from a protest against the murder of white farming couple Glen and Vida Rafferty, who were ambushed and shot dead on their premises in 2020. The clip was shared on YouTube on 6 September, the day after the protests.
“They are not graves. They don’t represent graves,” Mchunu said regarding the video that has become prominent on social media since it was shown in the White House. “And it was unfortunate that those facts got twisted to fit a false narrative about crime in South Africa.”
Per a report from the Institute of Race Relations, an anti-apartheid think tank in South Africa, the protest saw both Black and white participants mourning the deaths. One protester told the IRR: “We are supporting each other. There should be no killing anymore. White or black, we are all one.”
Trump also showed “news” clipping printouts that promoted his claims of a white genocide.
During the press conference, Trump held a stack of printed news articles that he said showed “death of people. Death, death, death, horrible death, death.”
“Pick any one of them,” Trump said. “White South Africans are fleeing because of the violence and racist laws. And this is all, I mean, I’ll give these to you.”
“A lot of people are very concerned with regard to South Africa… we have many people that feel they’re being persecuted, and they are coming to the US, so we take from many locations if we feel there’s persecution or genocide going on.”
That image Trump is holding up in the photo above? It isn’t from South Africa.
From the BBC:
But the image isn’t from South Africa – it’s actually from a report about women being killed in the Democratic Republic of Congo.
From the AP:
There were 12 murders on farms last year, The Associated Press reported, citing police statistics. One of the victims was a farmer, and the rest were farmworkers, none of whom were identified by race, according to the AP. White farmers own roughly three-quarters of South Africa’s privately owned land, according to government data.
Trump’s claims are demonstrably false. In other words, they’re lies. From the president of our country.
We can do all the fact-checking in the world. But the videotape makes the rounds on social media, and the base gets stirred up even more, taking the bait, hook, line, and sinker.
“Never let the facts get in the way of a good story.”
“Chad” is the nickname bestowed upon our 2008 Honda CRV by our son Peter when he was in high school. We bought ol’ Chad in 2018, when it already had 181,000 miles under its (timing) belt. Peter needed a “daily driver” for school. Chad got passed down from Peter to Andrew, our youngest (Leah didn’t get her license until later), who also used it for high school. Rolling on, day after day, year after year.
And now, somehow, Chad has been passed UP to me. I have no idea how it happened. I guess “Daddy dibs” isn’t a thing in our house. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I can throw my bike in the back, or put my kayak on the roof rack… or both! It’s a beater, but it’s my beater.
We’ve pumped some cash into Chad over the past seven years. It averages out to about two car payments a year. Math isn’t my strong suit, but I’m pretty sure two car payments is cheaper than 12. And roughly $10K over seven years is a lot cheaper than a new car.
As chronicled in a December post, we barely got 110,000 miles out of our 2014 Passat. So we’re playing with house money.
Chad isn’t the smoothest ride, or the fastest, or the sexiest. But I’ll take dependable any day of the week. In fact, I DO take that every day of the week.
I’m not sure how much longer Chad will be with us. At some point, there’s bound to be a major issue that would cost more than Chad is worth. But until then, we’ll keep on rolling. And keep on saving.
0 responses to “CRV = Continuously Rolling Vehicle”
I sincerely think that humor will help save humanity from the swamp into which it is sinking. Today we can’t afford to be pessimistic, so let’s try to keep a sense of humor bolted on to our hearts, soul, and spirit!
Jean-Jacques Perrey (1929-2016)
I’m here for it, Jean-Jacques!
It’s super-easy to be pessimistic these days. But don’t let the swamp thing get you!
Fight back, with a smile or a joke. Even a lame Dad Joke will suffice.
Monday isn’t usually a fun day. Back to the daily grind. But it doesn’t have to be that way.
I can’t tell you how many mindless meetings I’ve endured in my work life. I can tell you that in most of them, I’ve tried to add a bit of levity to the mix. Because life’s too short. And it’s a bit wacky too, when you stop and think about it.
And the best thing you’ve ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously
Its only life after all
“Closer to Fine” by the Indigo Girls
Here’s your humor helper for today. Guaranteed to bring a smile to your face. Then it’s up to you to share that smile.
A week and a day ago, I went up to Columbus to see Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds in concert at the Palace Theater. Nick’s always been on my bucket list for artists to see, but originally the math of (ticket price + 100 miles away) didn’t work for me. However, my friend Ken’s friend Suzanne wound up with a couple of extra seats two days before the concert, and was willing to part with them at a discounted price… AND she’d drive us to Columbus and back too. Sold!
In hindsight, I should’ve been willing to pay full freight. The concert was one of the best I’ve ever seen!
Our seats were on the main floor but pretty far back. However, Ken knew that Nick invites the audience to get closer. Sure enough, after the first song, he said “You feel so far away” and that was our cue to race down to form our own “standing room” in the aisles right by the stage. When Nick came stage left, he was about eight feet away from me.
Here’s the one and only photo I took of Nick, who looks like a cross between Dan Ackroyd and Eddie Munster:
I didn’t take any more shots because I wanted to be fully present for the show, and luxuriate in it.
His voice is ominous. His songs are dark and brooding. The lyrics can be a downer. But the concert felt like going to church. The dude is 67 and runs around the stage like a manic faith healer… which is kinda what he is.
HIs band is fantastic (the bass player Colin Greenwood also plays in a band called Radiohead… perhaps you’ve heard of them?). He has four backing vocalists straight out of a gospel church choir. And they ripped it up for 22 amazing songs.
Nick Cave isn’t just a fantastic performer, though. He’s also a philosopher of sorts, and deeply spiritual. He has a blog called The Red Hand Files. (Side note: if you’ve watched the show “Peaky Blinders” they used Nick’s song “Red Right Hand” for the opening titles.) In the blog, he answers questions from fans. Check out this excerpt from five years ago, when he responded to a question “A Prayer to who?”
A prayer provides us with a moment in time where we can contemplate the things that are important to us, and this watchful application of our attention can manifest these essential needs. The act of prayer asks of us something and by doing so delivers much in return — it asks us to present ourselves to the unknown as we are, devoid of pretence and affectation, and to contemplate exactly what it is we love or cherish. Through this conversation with our inner self we confront the nature of our own existence.
And here’s an excerpt from a very recent post. The question was:
When you say, “I love you, too,” back to fans at concerts, what do you mean by that? How can you love a total stranger?
LEAH, YPSILANTI, MICHIGAN, USA
His response is beautiful… and helps me wrap my head around why I love live music so much:
Leah, when I tell the audience that I love them, the sentiment is entirely true. I feel an emotional transaction with the crowd that is powerful and profoundly intimate. I stand before you all – strangers – witnessing you both individually and collectively, and sense an unbounded love. This love is true. It is not symbolic, metaphorical, or platitudinous. I see before me a group of human beings, precarious and vulnerable, granted a brief time on this earth, each filled with a shocking potential for beauty and terror, good and evil, and with the extraordinary capacity to give and receive love. At that moment, love is the appropriate response.
Amen, Brother Nick! Love you too!
My friend Ken took some photos and shot some video at the show… this brief clip of “Jubilee Street” gives you a bit more of the feel for how intense Nick can be.
And here’s some crowd-shot footage of “Conversion” on the current tour… “You’re beautiful!”
And some professional footage of “Jubilee Street” from a few years back.
Apologies in advance for the gushing, but I’m super-excited for my super-talented first cousin once removed! (Talent skips a generation…)
Her name is Erika Henningsen. Perhaps you’ve heard of her? She’s in the cast of The Four Seasons on Netflix with some unknowns named Steve Carrell, Tina Fey, Will Forte, Colman Domingo, Kerri Kenney, Marco Calvani…
She plays “Ginny,” the much-younger new girlfriend of Steve Carrell. NBD.
BTW, “Ginny” was the nickname of Erika’s grandmother, my dad’s sister Virginia, one of the sweetest people you could ever hope to meet. My siblings and I spent several summers with Aunt Virginia and Uncle Don and their kids (including Erika’s mom Marybeth) in Houston, Texas. The character’s name was Ginny in the original 1981 movie from which the Netflix series is adapted, but I’d never seen that flick. As soon as I heard the name on The Four Seasons, I was grinning from ear-to-ear at the beautiful symmetry of Erika’s character’s name paying tribute to her beloved “Gammy” (who gave her the acting bug).
Unsurprisingly to anyone familiar with Henningsen before this, she delivers this performance with such grace that it makes for a character I would want to be friends with. Heck, maybe even go on vacays with.
The Four Seasons is #1 globally on Netflix. NBD.
And while that series is dominating the airwaves (are they still called “airwaves”? Is it “streamwaves” now?), Erika is starring on Broadway in the jukebox musical Just in Time, playing Sandra Dee opposite Jonathan Groff’s Bobby Darin. NBD.
She’s “having a moment” for sure.
Oh, and later this month she’s going to dash right from taking a bow on Broadway to a nearby club for a cabaret show. NBD.
As my late night talk show idol David Letterman used to say, “as if that weren’t enough… and by gosh, don’t you think it ought to be?!” Erika also launched a Substack a few months back, called Millennial Bohemia. As a fellow WordNerd, I’m being as objective as a super-proud first cousin once removed can be when I say the writing is superb!
I remember when my wife and I visited Marybeth and Phil in California when their youngest daughter Erika was just a wee tyke. Even back then, she had the bug… she put on an impromptu performance in the backyard. It fills my heart with joy to see her still doing what she loves best, and excelling at it.
Our second oldest kid turned 24 on Derby Day. The next day he ran the Cincinnati Flying Pig half-marathon.
I went to three different spots along the route to cheer him on.
At Mile 3, when the runners come back into Ohio from Kentucky… didn’t see him.
At Mile 4, when the route takes them back into downtown… couldn’t spot him there either.
Finally, at Mile 8, I caught sight of him as he was rounding a turn past Eden Park. A quick shout-out from me, a brief smile and nod of acknowledgement from him, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
He’s 24. He’s off and running. All of our kids are. Our oldest will be moving out soon. Our daughter is renting an apartment in Clifton, near school, while she takes summer classes. Our youngest will be home from Indiana U. soon, but he’ll be off with his friends most of the summer.
Our son’s pace quickened in the second half of the race.
I know the feeling. Ferris Bueller taught me well.
It’s their race now. I’m just a spectator. Hoping to catch an occasional glimpse, a brief smile, a nod of acknowledgement.
Before they’re gone. Before I’m gone.
Seems like I was just a kid not so long ago
There were so many arrivals, so many hellos
Now my time behind is greater than my time ahead
Save up the minutes like flowers before all they’re dead and gone…
Last year Ted published a homemade graphic in his 2024 “State of the Culture” article and it really resonated.
Spoiler alert: it’s not getting any better in 2025.
Our new lives will be as shallow and predictable as the spinning wheels on a slot machine. And that’s by design—the web platforms study what happens in casinos and incorporate what they’ve learned in their apps.
Ted Gioia
The term “world wide web” seems almost quaint now, even though the “www” still remains. Many years ago, the “web” was about connection:
Not long ago, the Internet was loose and relaxed. It was free and easy. It was fun. There wasn’t even an app store.
We made our own rules.
The web had removed all obstacles and boundaries. I could reach out to people all over the world.
The Internet, in those primitive days, put me back in touch with classmates from my youth. It reconnected me with friends I’d made during my many trips overseas. It strengthened my ties with relatives near and far. I even made new friends online.
It felt liberating. It felt empowering…. I made new connections. I opened new doors.
Now, “web” is about control. We’re being flattened under the thumbs of a mere handful of people who control the mediums and the messaging.
But the standardization and bunkerization of web platforms has put power in the hands of the digital overseers. We are now caught in their web—and they are the spiders.
Give Ted’s great article a read. Give it some thought. And perhaps reconsider how you are spending your time. Because your mind is getting swiped…
When you watch this happen, don’t you crave a return of indie culture? Don’t you hope for a resistance movement? Don’t you want to see a backlash to uniformity and standardization? Of course you do. And you’re not alone.
I played pickleball yesterday. As is the custom of the elders.
Some of my friends think I play too much.
(It IS a lie. I played this morning too!) But the reality is I only play on days ending with a “y.”
Yesterday afternoon, I played at a place called PickleBarn. Not to be confused with Pickle Lodge. (I’ve played there before too!) It’s called PickleBarn because:
a. All of the good names were taken
b. It’s two courts inside a pole barn structure.
(The two women who own Pickle Barn had originally intended to renovate the old house on the property and turn it into a rental. But after they bought it, they discovered the land was zoned commercial. Life handed them lemons, and they turned it into a business with lemon-colored plastic balls.)
PickleBarn has a Bluetooth speaker on site so you can connect your phone and listen to some music while you’re playing. One of the dudes I was playing with yesterday hooked up his phone and started playing a bunch of tunes that were… how can I say this diplomatically… boring as heck!
Sorry, but it’s tough to get hyped for some intense pickleball action (perhaps an oxymoron) when you’re listening to Sweet Baby James Taylor and John Denver and Jim Croce.
The songs on his playlist were the polar opposite of “Jock Jams.”
It got me to thinking about what songs I’d want on my own jock jams playlist. Those songs that, when I hear them, get me hyped.
This one is probably my favorite. It’s a bit of a leftfield choice, but that’s how I’m wired.
Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Travelin’ Band” would be on there too. Some Ramones. Definitely Superchunk’s “Digging for Something.” “Makes No Sense at All” by Hüsker Dü. “Max, Jill Called” by The Bicycle Thief.. OK, these are all leftfield picks. So be it.
I think I should put all MY jock jams into a playlist and play it the next time I’m at PickleBarn… my opponents will be so busy wondering “what sort of weird music is this?” that they won’t be able to concentrate on the game.
Pickleball is my jam. With my jams going, it’ll be even more of a jam!
[Today I’m reposting the post below, from two years ago, because I’ve started relistening to the Valley Heat podcast (and some of the newer episodes from the companion Good Morning, Burbank show) and nothing has made me laugh more. And I think we all could use some good laughs these days.]
This post was originally published on April 25, 2022…
I’m late to the game on this podcast (sorry, I lead a sheltered life), but Valley Heat is the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.
It’s like A Confederacy of Dunces meets Arrested Development meets Fernwood 2 Night…. Doug’s deadpan delivery, a wacky cast of characters, fun music references, the bogus promo spots, and great theater-of-the-mind audio all combine to create a perfect storm of humor. Every element is note-perfect!
It’s a bit tough to explain because the folks responsible for the podcast have created a whole wacky world within a Burbank, California neighborhood. The protagonist, Doug, ostensibly is trying to crack the case of who is using his garbage can as a drug drop. But really that’s just a doorway to all sorts of shenanigans involving an accident-prone attorney, a house that’s also a nightclub/arcade/pizza parlor/car wash, a mean father-in-law (who also runs a muffler empire), a DEA agent who does stakeouts with his mom, legendary frisbee golf players, mean foosball players, Jan that Movie (listen to learn), and a weaselly optometrist. Speaking of which, here’s Doug talking about his teenage son, who was prescribed transition lenses:
I wound up binge-listening to all the episodes over a weekend and was cracking up the whole time. I don’t know what sort of mind can come up with a Simon & Garfunkel alternate version of the Cheers theme song, but I’m totally here for it!
The Patreon offers bonus episodes, which are equally entertaining. Here’s an excerpt about a new product that sounds perfect… other than the fire hazard: Don’t just trust my judgment on this, trust Eliza Skinner:
Or my buddy Howard:
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have some Jannie Cakes for breakfast…
Bill’s right. It may be hard to believe that such a gentle soul could be such an eco-warrior, but his sense of justice demanded it.
Bill’s post is behind a paywall – you might be able to get to it for free if you enter your email address. (I’m a proud tree-hugging subscriber to Mr. McKibben’s Substack… it’s called The Crucial Years.)
Bill quotes from Pope Francis’ 2015 encyclical Laudato Si (Latin for “Praised be”), which “brought moral resolve to the question of climate change.”
A few choice quotes from it:
(men and women have) intervened in nature, but for a long time this meant being in tune with and respecting the possibilities offered by the things themselves. It was a matter of receiving what nature itself allowed, as if from its own hand.
However “human beings and material objects no longer extend a friendly hand to one another; the relationship has become confrontational.” With the great power that technology has afforded us, it’s become “easy to accept the idea of infinite or unlimited growth, which proves so attractive to economists, financiers and experts in technology. It is based on the lie that there is an infinite supply of the earth’s goods, and this leads to the planet being squeezed dry beyond every limit.”
And more from Bill McKibben’s post:
Francis was very much a pragmatist, and one advised by excellent scientists and engineers. As a result, he had a clear technological preference: the rapid spread of solar power everywhere. He favored it because it was clean, and because it was liberating—the best short-term hope of bringing power to those without it, and leaving that power in their hands, not the hands of some oligarch somewhere.
As a result, he followed up Laudato Si with a letter last summer, Fratello Sole, which reminds everyone that the climate crisis is powered by fossil fuel, and which goes on to say
There is a need to make a transition to a sustainable development model that reduces greenhouse gas emissions into the atmosphere, setting the goal of climate neutrality. Mankind has the technological means to deal with this environmental transformation and its pernicious ethical, social, economic and political consequences, and, among these, solar energy plays a key role.
As a result, he ordered the Vatican to begin construction of a field of solar panels on land it owned near Rome—an agrivoltaic project that would produce not just food but enough solar power to entirely power the city-state that is the Vatican. It is designed, in his words, to provide “the complete energy sustenance of Vatican City State.” That is to say, this will soon be the first nation powered entirely by the sun.
Praised be, indeed!
More from Bill’s post:
The level of emotion—of love—in this decision is notable. The pope named “Laudato Si” (“Praised be”) after the first two words of his namesake’s Canticle to the Sun, and Fratello Sole was even more closely tied—those are the words that the first Francis used to address Brother Sun. I reprint the opening of the Canticle here, in homage to both men, and to their sense of humble communion with the glorious world around us.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made, And first my lord Brother Sun, Who brings the day; and light you give to us through him. How beautiful is he, how radiant in all his splendor! Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
The world is a poorer place this morning. But far richer for his having lived.
Amen, Brother Bill!
Pope Francis is now basking in the eternal light of God’s love. But those of us left on this one earth we share could do a much better job harnessing the light of Brother Sun, and quit squeezing the planet dry beyond every limit.
blueandgolddreamer on Monday Fun-day: “I was just thinking about this song today. Every day I get closer to fine even if the journey is…” May 20, 03:30
Damian on Lost in a Cave: “Spend some time with his answers to fans’ questions on his Red Hand Files. You’ll enjoy it.” May 10, 19:25
impossibly4332b32374 on Lost in a Cave: “BTW, this is Chuck Wiggins…I guess I’m now known as impossibly4332b32374. That moniker has gone with me to a few…” May 10, 15:19
impossibly4332b32374 on Lost in a Cave: “I can resonate with that definition of prayer. I need to dig into him more. I’d love to hear how…” May 10, 15:18
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