A "Protester's" Reflections on the 2016 RNC/DNC

During the month of July, I went to both national conventions to distribute my propaganda.  My pitch was pretty streamlined and straightforward.

If people demonstrated an interest, I'd ask them where they were from.  In most cases it was the hometown.  So for instance, let's use Cleveland.  I'd introduce myself and tell them I've been working on a public safety/human rights project for several years.  It's actually part of an ongoing cyber-security threat that is by nature... undiscussable.  Usually that would get their attention.

I'm sure you've been to First Energy Stadium.  Right over there (point in a Northerly direction).  Well, on gameday, there are 79,000 people in that venue.  And there are also 79,000 cell phones capable of receiving real-time, false information.  It is a wirelessly hyper-connective environment.

If you were to get a stadium evacuation order over your cell phone, it is part of a hoax designed to create a panic and a stampede.  There's no other logical explanation why something like that would occur. 

I know this to be a fact because if it's necessary to stage an evac, you do NOT use cell phones to deliver the order.  There is an incident command structure in place.  The established protocol requires using the public address, the jumbotron, the video monitors.  You alert the ushers.  There are things you say.  There are things you don't say.  The protocol is very specific.  It does NOT initially include cellular notifications.

But the NFL can't tell you this very generic public safety information because of the catch-22.  If you acknowledge a problem exists, you own it.  And if something bad were to ever happen, you're screwed... because you didn't do enough to prevent it.  It's a classic paradox.  It's about plausible deniability, hypothetical litigation and the lose-lose proposition.  Basically, even though the solution is free... nobody has the courage to tell people the truth.  In a word, it's about money.

I believe the NFL has a moral (and legal) responsibility to just tell fans the absolute bare minimum of public safety information.  They're well aware of this specific security disconnect --- 50,000 - 100,000 cell phones in every stadium capable of receiving real-time, false information.

So there are 2 distinct options here.  You either tell fans the truth or you make a calculated decision to remain silent and deliberately conceal it.  Right now, they're choosing the latter.  Hardly a surprise.  Obviously, this issue extends beyond the NFL.  The U.S. government and private industry have the same responsibility but nobody's allowed to openly discuss the problem.

This strikes me as an obvious cyber-security threat and serious national security issue.  Because if someone had malicious intent, it's reasonable to assume they wouldn't target just one individual stadium, but rather the Sunday 1 o'clock slate of games which normally has 7-10 simultaneous games and stadiums in play.  

Again, there are 2 very distinct choices.  You can do something about it.  In this case, acknowledge the problem and explicitly divulge the truth.  Or you do nothing, maintain the status quo and just hope that something like this never occurs, or at the very least, is attempted.  

Here's my card.  Any questions, gimme a ring.

So that was pretty much the extent of my pitch.  If they required a deeper explanation, I'd engage them further and go into the exhaustive specifics. 

Alright, enough with the stampede crap.  Here we go.

I did a few interviews, here and there, one of which I was told aired on C-Span.  I'm a little suspicious that my concerns were raised on national television.  I'll believe it when I see it.  Also did a few documentary requests, interviews and facebook live stuff.  Did a little "sign sabotage" as well.  Sneaked it into a few local broadcasts.  More importantly, I handed out a ton of cards to some pretty high profile characters --- politicians, reporters and delegates.

The vast majority of people who watched the conventions saw them on live television.  They were broadcast from inside a very restrictive, hermetically sealed environment.  But most observers have no idea about the prevailing atmosphere on the outside, in the city streets.  So that's what I'll mostly focus on.

For the RNC, I made the decision to drive up to Cleveland and back each day.  It was the only plausible option, as Gigi was stationed in Westlake, OH for the duration.  She was inside Quicken Loans Arena for all 4 days/nights.  Hey, someone had to feed the cats and water the plants.  No big deal.  I ended up staying the final night.  2 hours 15 minutes both ways.  Like I said, not a big deal.  Just kind of a pain. 

When I first got to downtown Cleveland, I found a parking lot on the outskirts about 8 blocks away.  I liked the proximity to the 77S exit.  $20 per day was a bit steep, but unusual circumstances call for unusual measures.  Plus, at first, I was I tiny bit concerned about the possibility of looting and smashed windows.

The security perimeter (steel fencing) was a sight to behold.  It started about 4 blocks from the site in all directions.  The E. 9th exit for Quicken Loans/Progressive Field was closed.

I was a bit surprised that you could basically walk right up to the entrance of the venue.  Rows of police were literally everywhere but they were not obtrusive.  If trouble arose, they'd hastily form a protective, impenetrable wall.  I decided to set up "shop" at the intersection of the venue entrance and those attending the convention --- E. 4th and Prospect seemed like the place to be.  It would later be termed as the main "hotspot" for violent confrontations.

For the Cleveland RNC, I made two signs.

I quickly disposed of this one.  It required too much of an explanation, and in retrospect, seemed like a sarcastic joke.  Just not indicative of the serious nature of my prevailing concerns.

Instead, I'd end up using this one for the duration.    

As you might expect, this one garnered far more interest.  It's simply a more startling, provocative question.  It also seemed tailor suited for the crowd (people often indoctrinated with notions of freedom and the desire to bring our enemies to justice).

On the first day, I had an encounter with a fringe politician/activist named "Vermin Supreme."  Yep, that's me and him, the guy with boot on his head. 

Here's one of his more circulated videos. 

It was interesting to watch him in action.  He engaged an ultra born-again/Westboro Baptist Church knock-off/thee shall repent or burn-in-hell crusader.  The man was carrying a mammoth sign which listed a variety of sins.

A large crowd gathered and the bible thumper asked Vermin which sins he was guilty of.  Vermin was more than happy to respond.

"Well, let's see here.  I've stolen.  I've lied.  I've cheated.  I've fornicated.  I've masturbated.  I've taken the lord's name in vain.  Hmm, I'm never had an abortion.  I've never committed murder but there's a lot of people who think I should be committed."

This type of amusing banter went back and forth.  Some of the crowd was laughing to the point where a few were in tears.  I just smiled for most of it.  It was actually some tremendous, poly-street theater.  The conversation reached a climax when the Jesus freak demanded that Vermin "read his bible."

Vermin: "Well, I don't own a bible."

Godboy:  "You could borrow mine."

Vermin:  Hmmm, uh naw.  Whaddya say I just run circles around this giant pile of horseshit instead???"

And with that... he and his buddy started furiously running laps around a mammoth pile of horseshit.  Then, he abruptly finished his exercise routine and violently shook his head back and forth, causing the boot to sway up and down in a mesmerizing, almost hallucinogenic fashion.  He raised his cape and thrust his arm forward like a superhero combination of Captain America meets Mighty Mouse.   Think in terms of "here I come to save the day."

Funny stuff.  I ended up talking to him several times over the next couple weeks.  Just like me, Vermin decided to hit up Philly as well.  He actually showed some tepid interest in my cause, but was also, very easily distracted.  Great guy with a likely smidge of ADD.

I could have taken a ton of pictures with quasi-celebs, but I usually just settle for one or none.  In this case, Vermin got the nod.

There was an air of tension on the second day.  A Communist group put out on social media that they were going to burn a flag.  Naturally, some of the younger Trump fans/patriots (I call them Trumpiots) were not pleased with the prospect.  A few were embracing their open carry rights.  Sure enough, the shit went down.  Kinda surprised this one didn't get totally outta hand.  Lots of pushing and shoving.  Scuffles here and there with some VERY heated exchanges.  But the cops and firefighters quickly engulfed the area.  You may have seen a video on the news.  I heard they ended up making about 15 arrests.

The Black Lives Matter Crew were exceptionally loud, focused and well-coordinated.  They took their march to the main entrance of the arena as well.  Much to my chagrin, the leader of their group was white.  And he was very irate and agitated.  His followers reminded me of the Black Panthers.  Dressed in pseudo-military dissident gear.  This one also got a little heated but the cops formed walls.  They let it go for a good hour or so.

Ironically, it was the Code Pink anti-war women (many of which were on the elderly side) that really upset the cops.  They were all pleasant and engaging, but then a few of them whipped out some pink tennis balls and started tossing them around.  All of a sudden, the mood changed.  One of the commanders flashed me a look of instant ferocity and ventured into the fray.  I remember them hauling away 2 of the girls in cuffs.  But I don't think they arrested them.  Just a hunch.

You see, tennis balls are on the list of banned items outside the conventions.  But our government won't tell anyone why.  Hint: a hand grenade can be effectively designed to resemble a harmless tennis ball.  But nobody's allowed to talk about it.  Tennis anyone?

Sound familiar?  Hint: Maybe a cell phone could be used as a weapon (agsaf.org).  Steelers game anyone?  I'll score us some freebies outside Gate A.

I won't bother with a list of the famous people I engaged.  However, I did have a chance encounter with the Transhumanist candidate for POTUS.  His name is Zoltan Istvan and he hails from San Francisco.  I'd had some previous email correspondence with him, trying to engage him with my cause.  While appreciative, he just didn't think it would be a good fit for his platform, possibly a distraction.

I totally disagree as he's the closest thing we have to a "technology candidate."  But that's that.

I caught his attention and introduced myself, "Zoltan, you already know me.  I'm the stampede guy."  He chuckled in disbelief.  "Oh yeah, the stampedes.  It's great to meet you."  We talked for a bit and agreed that we'd likely see each other in Philly.  And of course, we did.  Just for the record, Zoltan is currently running 5th.  Less than 1%... behind 4th place Jill Stein (G) who's also in the 1% range. 

Let there be no mistake.  The RNC was an absolute circus.  There was next-to-zero ethnic minority representation inside the convention, but the streets outside were literally teeming with black salesman.  Mostly selling foam souvenirs, pins and incredibly obnoxious t-shirts.  The content on the shirts even shifted to reflect real-world Republican conditions.  The big seller went from this...

and this...

to this...

TED CRUZ SUCKS (on the front)

HILLARY SWALLOWS (on the back)

Much to my surprise, I couldn't find a picture on the internet.  But  the man selling them had a sizable stack.  It made me wonder what past Republican conventions probably looked like.  I imagine they were Nancy Reagan styled, country club affairs.  Lavish opulence.  The big money, the elegance, the behind-the-scenes cigar-chomping power brokers.  I seriously doubt the politicians of yester-year (the Bob Dole's, the Newt Gingrich's, the Mitt Romeny's)  are on board the Trump Train.  In all honesty, I think they'd find it both confusing and terrifying.  These Trumpiots just don't resemble the Republican party I grew up with.  Long gone are the days of the respectful, grandmotherly Barbara Bush.  Now there's a different rallying cry...  a young pale, ginger kid with bad acne yelling "DONALD MOTHER FUCKIN' TRUMP!!!"  While the guy next to him wears a goofy, ill-fitting ball cap, and smugly holds a sign that reads "MAKE THE BROWNS GREAT AGAIN."

On the final day, I zipped to the hotel and caught the majority of Trump's speech.  To be honest, I thought he outperformed.  A little sparse on details, but his tone, tenor and delivery were pretty spot-on.

I must admit.  I went into Cleveland with the expectation of violence.  Maybe not bullets or bombs, but at the very least, I thought there was going to be some looting, smashed cars, vandalism.  Tear gas and vehicles equipped with water cannons and sound dispersal weapons.  I vaguely remember telling Gigi that "I think we'll be fine, but some people are definitely going to die.  There will be numerous injuries.  This is going to be bad."  Turns out, I was wrong.  That's what happens when you make bold predictions.  Hint: dominipede.

So onto Philly...

And that means one thing.  The dreaded turnpike via Pittsburgh.  $35 both ways.  Cleveland each day was $5.00 up and $7.00 back.  What. A. Racket.  I've been spoiled by all those years on I-70.

I had to drive separately.  No worries though.  I honestly enjoy the Northeastern version of Alabama.  Great stops along the way, as well!  Translation: Exxon, Starbucks, Pizza Hut (by the slice), McDonalds and the occasional Roy Rogers (how on earth has this franchise survived?).  I would think that Kenny Rogers Roasters is a more viable business.

Mess you up!

They probably have a superior marketing strategy as well.

Our Holiday Inn was in the pleasant Philly suburb of Lansdale/Kulpsville.  About 30 minutes north of the Wells Fargo Center.  Nice place.  We shared it with the entire North Carolina delegation.

Eager to get started.  I sped down 476S to I 95N.  Some minor traffic by the airport.  No big deal.  But the weather was a little on the oppressive side.  Very humid and in the 100's.  I entered the fray with my sign.  This one was admittedly more pointed and direct.

Yeah, I'd say that this one was a little less nuanced.

The Bernie Sanders supporters, and those commiserating with his failed candidacy, were out in full force.  They set up shop by the main entrance and screamed at the delegates as they flooded in from the train station.  They also heckled the buses, but the degree of interaction was virtually nonexistent.  It would be the equivalent of me shouting at a departing airplane from Pittsburgh International... from inside the terminal.

Some of them were really pissed off.  Hillary's a war monger!  Lock her up!  Hillary stole the primary!  Like I was saying, the Bernie diehards were fuming.

One younger girl, probably her early 20's, insisted on violently shaking the steel barrier.  The cops tried to get her to to calm down.  But she kept screaming, "Fuck you, I want Bernie!"  After repeated attempts to pacify her, the cop basically had no choice but to arrest her.  As they took her away, a man nearby said, "They'll just cuff her, fine her $50 for disorderly conduct and release her.  She's not going to see the inside of a jail cell."  Apparently, that was the typical protocol in Philly.  In retrospect, I think her main objective was to be able to go back to her sorority and tell her friends, "Yeah, I got arrested at the Democratic National Convention."  Someday, I'm sure she'll regale her grandchildren with tales of her futile heroics. 

An older male protestors was sitting on a curb.  He kind of looked like an overweight version of a haggard Andy Kaufman.

He would scream errant obscenities about Hillary.  Then, he'd methodically lean over and smoke his pipe filled with marijuana.  I thought it was odd how he didn't seem to care about the police standing right next to him.  Needless to say, he was probably a more accurate representation of an old-school, Philly activist.  Maybe New York or New Jersey.  He just didn't give a shit.  He had a large towel and would occasionally wipe off the profuse sweat from his entire head, neck and face.

Jill Stein spoke to a faithful crowd of admirers in Franklin D. Roosevelt park.  I ran into a few of my displaced Pittsburgh news buddies who now work in Philly.  They seemed surprised.  Not by the fact that I was there, complaining about stampedes.  They were just surprised that we stumbled into each other.

Eventually, the storms kicked in around 7pm.  It was an absolute, prolonged torrential downpour.  Thunder, lightning, the works.  I covered up my sign and headed for the car.   The ramp I needed was closed so I briefly ended up in Jersey and then hooked up with 76W.  76 East was at a complete standstill for about 10 miles.  I assumed there must have been a really bad accident with multiple fatalities.  I watched in amazement as people were sitting on the hoods of their cars, wandering around on the opposite side of the highway.  Almost like a cocktail party without the drinks.  Turns out a low lying area of 76 was completely flooded.  I watched it on the news later that night.  They showed a bus and a few cars completely submerged, bobbing around.  Remember, this wasn't some back road.  This was right out of downtown.  Crazy.  Happy hour in Philly I suppose.  Disgruntled and discordant.  Disenchanted and Disgusted.  Reminds me of my ex-neighbor Bill Adel.

As day #2 rolled around, the cops and arena security had taken a more no-nonsense approach.  They stationed these long, protective lines near the subway.  Now it was virtually impossible to engage even the tiniest fraction of delegates. 

Most of the action was in the park.  I roamed around distributing my propaganda as they did the roll call vote over the loudspeakers.  The crowd was still relatively enthusiastic but you could see a marked difference between the first day.  I think the heat and the sequestration had taken a toll.

On day #3, I parked down by the arena and decided to take the subway to City Hall.  There were some ridiculously loud speakers across the street.  Most of it seemed centered around Black Lives Matter movement and the current police-state.   I'd have to say the general reaction to me was mixed.  I mean, you gotta realize that I'm walking around downtown Philadelphia with a sign that reads "Asymmetric Cyber-Security Threat."  This ain't the pro-lifers with their late-term aborted fetus pics.  Yeah... and I'm the weirdo freak?  Still, I'd say most reacted positively or were completely indifferent.

I ventured back down to the Wells Fargo Center.  The cops had set up a knew sub-ground, perimeter barrier and funneled anyone with credentials straight into the cordoned off area.  You couldn't even hang out on the platform and distribute information.  By then, it was around 5pm.  I headed back over to the park and the protests had really died down.

I hung out for a couple more hours and engaged a few people, here and there.  A young guy saw my sign and came running over, "Oh man, I've heard about you!  You're the stampede guy!  This is totally insane.  I really need to hear what you have to say.  Will you tell me about it?"  So I gave him my pitch for a bit.  I know this sounds fucked up, but I don't get many listeners who are authentically "starstruck."  For a brief moment, I felt like Weird Al on Dr. Demento.

Shortly thereafter, I left for the hotel and watched the Day 3 speeches.  Obama (clever), Biden (strong), Leon Panetta (curious), Harry Reid (yawn) and the rest of 'em.

Later that night, I told Gigi that I was going to skip out on the final day.  Get a head start back and go see the cats.  There simply just wasn't anything left for me to do.

And that was the biggest difference between the conventions.  Let me lay it on the line.

The RNC in Cleveland might have been a plagiarized circus, featuring a non-supportive Ted Cruz and these glowing offspring testimonials.  With an abundance of right-wing nutjobs and religious zealots.  Not to mention the Bikers for Trump gun-toting fanatics.  But I'll tell you one thing straight-up.  If you really want to live in a future democracy, the DNC was a complete and utter joke.  Trump might want to build a wall... but it was the Democrats who actually built the walls, or at the very least, erected them until they were no longer "necessary."

But do I have any regrets?  Uh, hell no!

Would I do it all over again?  Uh, hell yeah!

Donald Trump, Rational Behavior and the Nuclear Codes

Hillary has taken aim at Trump over the possibility of him having the authority to launch nuclear weapons.  This is an incredibly powerful statement and strategy.  I expect you'll hear more of it as the campaign lumbers on.

Not many people really understand what it means to have the nuclear codes.  It's often referred to as a "briefcase" or "football" --- terms that help dangerously simplify the notion of nuclear devastation to the American commoner.  Here's what it currently means in the real-world.

510 nuclear weapons aimed at Russia
130 nuclear weapons aimed at China
50 nuclear weapons aimed at North Korea
40 nuclear weapons aimed at Iran
20 nuclear weapons aimed at Syria

Keep in mind, there is no dress rehearsal or "recourse."  If the commander in chief chooses to launches a strike of any kind, the military chain of command has no authority to object or second guess the decision.  This is a big deal.  Especially in the current climate of social media hoaxes, hacking and technological disinformation.  And it's something Hillary should exploit.

The Clinton-Kaine campaign has done a pretty good job of characterizing Trump as mentally unstable and easily provoked.  He lashes out against anyone and everyone... as portrayed in his nonstop twitter crusades.  Nobody is safe.  Fellow Republican presidential candidates, the handicapped, U.S. military generals, prisoners of war, high profile businessmen, celebrities, reporters, women, Mexicans, Muslims, etc.  The list is by-definition ENDLESS.  Because like he always says, whenever he gets personally attacked, he "hits back hard."  Even his most ardent supporters would agree with this assessment.  It's the Trump de facto approach to everything and everyone.

The Clinton campaign should make a commercial about this.  I expect they already have one in the works.  If not, they are absolute fools. 

Here's how I'd frame it.  I would use Trump's personal video and audio statements about his penchant for "destroying his enemies" and how he flippantly likes to "hammer", "slaughter", "massacre" his opponents.  "Take them out at the knees."  And a quick reminder --- these are our fellow Americans.  Imagine what he might do to our economic or geo-political adversaries.  Exactly what is this man capable of doing?  After all, nobody knows for sure what goes on in the mind of The Donald. 

Then, I would specifically reference former presidential candidates who were defeated.  Nobody ever questioned the prospect of Mitt Romney having his finger on the button.  Nobody ever questioned John Kerry's rationality.  Or John McCain's judgement.  Granted, it got a little dicey when you threw Sarah Palin into the mix.  But Al Gore?  Nope.  Bush Sr.?  Nope.  Senator Dole?  Nope.  Go all the way back to Dukakis and Carter.

Why is this effective?  Because you may have disagreed with their style, economic philosophy or political party.  But you didn't fear the prospect of a "madman" at the helm.

Throw out the names of all former candidates for the last 4 decades or so.  These are human beings that people remember... because they personally identified with them and cast votes for them.  They're also candidates that, with the passage of time, people have grown to respect and in some cases, adore.  Nobody still despises Jimmy Carter or Bob Dole.  Draw the distinction.  Compare and contrast pictures of Trump with the people he would eagerly refer to as "losers."  Focus on George Bush Sr. who proudly served... while Trump had 4 deferments from Vietnam.

Then you close out the commercial.  But Donald Trump???  Show a picture of him where he's physically enraged.  And then scroll a fast-forward list of his personal twitter tirades.   Just fast enough where you can't physically discern the content but you know the tweets are real.  Make it so that the viewer would have to actually engage their Tivo and watch the list in slow motion.  In a word... this list is HUGE (and can be very unforgiving).

Why would this be particularly effective?  Because it demonstrates intellectual superiority when it comes to social media... which is supposed to be Trump's biggest strength.  Also, it uses his own words (and streaming tweets) against him.  This is the correct way to demonize an opponent.  Using an individual's own words against them.  Anyone can hurl insults and attacks.  Trump chooses the latter strategy.  Probably because it worked so well for him in the primary.  The general election is an admittedly different animal.  Because everyone gets to vote.  Not just the alabaster skinned Alabamians.

Does anyone recall Obama's ad against Mitt Romney in 2012.  Incredibly effective.  Probably one of the best in the history of presidential campaigns.  At least I thought it was.  I'd take the same approach but construct it on a steroid, blood doping-meth level that literally blows your mind.

Clinton strategists --- gimme a ring.

304-312-1395 and ask for Saf

And the best news of all?  I won't charge you a penny.

If you're heading up the Trump Train, I'm willing to devise an equally effective anti-Hillary ad.  But it's gonna cost ya.  Probably about a million.  Sounds like a pretty good deal if you wanna win the election for President of the United States.

I'd call that a bargain.  The best I ever had.

The Big Hillary Speech

Tonight's the night.  Hillary Clinton gives her acceptance speech.  The first ever female presidential candidate.  That's some iconic shit!  Sarah Palin's VP spot on the 2008 ticket doesn't quite match up.  Not as epic.

Not sure of the prevailing theme tonight, but I do have a prediction as to her opening lines (content, style, delivery).  I think I might have nailed this one spot-on.  So naturally, I took a moment to jot down this historic, "expectance" speech.


Hillary walks on stage to some melodramatic, hyperbolic display of god-knows-what.

After the applause subsides, I have a hunch that she'll take on a very different persona, an  "irresistibly, self-deprecating" approach.  Obviously because it provides a perfect contrast to Trump the Narcissist.  They've already done a decent job of portraying him as juvenile and obnoxious, and to some extent, mentally unstable.  So how about we finish the job?  Go after him for being "inhuman."

Hillary: "Thank you, Thank you... Thank you" (6x over a generous period of about 83 seconds)

Hillary: "Have you ever heard the expression... "Well, it looks like they saved the best for last"?  Well, it's the end of the last night and...  HERE. I. AM !!! (bold sarcasm)

"Yeah, uh right. (sheepish, sarcastic admission)

"So I guess the time has arrived for Hillary's big speech!" (deliberately use the first person tense).

"Seriously, that's how I'm going to refer to myself from now on.  Just like my opponent.  You know... The Donald!?!?  From this day forth, you can refer to me as... "The Hillary!" (use a demented, wavy voice)

(pan the crowd for a variety of delegates and their hysterical reaction)

Then, have Hillary do her patented cackle laughter.  (additional self-deprecation)

(make her sound extemporaneous)

Hillary: "You know, a lot of people make fun of me for my funny laugh."  Well, don't worry about me."  (reassuringly)  "Trust me, I can take it."  (subtle reminder that she's tough and Trump picks on people with disabilities)

"But ya wanna know something that's not funny???   It's the prospect of a Donald Trump presidency.  (pause) "Because hey, that ain't funny!  

That's just downright terrifying!" (have her intentionally use the Southern colloquial "ain't", not "isn't", while sounding exhausted and appearing exasperated). 

crowd is guaranteed to go nuts

"So yes, I have a big speech to give!"

"But seriously, how on earth am I supposed to compete with our first lady Michelle Obama's speech???" (mention something about Sasha and Malia playing with their dog on the White House lawn).

deafening applause

"And what about last night, uh, her husband... our President of the Untied States of America???  Barack Obama?"  (more applause, continue to push the inclusive unity theme)  Divulge a secret campaign story from their 2008 rivalry.

"And what about my friends Jill and Joe?   You wanna know some people who have a clue?"  (a reference to when Biden said that Trump doesn't have a clue)  Well, I'll tell ya who has clue!  (Wait 5 seconds)  Them!

(applause continues)

"But you wanna know someone who doesn't have a clue?  Well, I'll give you a hint.  His last name rhymes with dump.  We'll say it on three.  One... two... three...  

crowd screams TRUMPPPP (gives the crowd some token involvement)

(calmly) "Trust me Donald... I'm sure you'll tweet about it tomorrow... but THAT WASN'T AN ENDORSEMENT.  (loud Hillary voice)

crowd goes nuts again

"And how about Bill?"

"Let's just say... that in the summer of 1971... I met a boy."  then have her divulge some "secret" that is only known between the two of them... maybe a comical story about Chelsea as a baby.  (everyone loves a baby story)  And show Bill's disbelief and incredulity that she would bring up something so private in front 50 million viewers). 

"And that leads me to my daughter Chelsea and my darling son-in-law (whatever his name is) and our wonderful grandkids X and Y.  I just love you all so much.  And I'm just so proud of the woman you've become."  (if she can force a tear... that would be gold).     

Generous pause.  (show repeated clips of the family and a few heavy hitters in the audience)

"And what about Senator Bernie Sanders from the Green Mountain State of Vermont?!?!? (say something about the heated campaign, but how they share the same vision.  How they're both willing to fight for what's right).

"And what about Senators Corey Booker and Elizabeth Warren?  And what Gabby?"  Rattle off a few of the other names of previous dynamic speakers and what led them to the podium.  Especially if they brought the house down.  Stuff like the woman whose only gay son was killed in the Orlando club massacre.   Then you focus on the NRA.  Get the gist?  Can you gather the inference? 

This is how I'd segue-way into a strong policy speech.  Reference the speakers who emotionally moved the audience from the previous 3 nights.  Remind the crowd of those specific, memorable moments.  Speak vicariously through their experiences.  This helps soften the level of unreasonably high expectations.  Also gives Bernie super-fans less incentive to interrupt.  And it's also a continual reminder that the Dems are the party of inclusion.  They're the love party... not the hate party.

Go heavy into a string of policy driven statements and initiatives.  Outline the next 4 years of a Hillary administration... as opposed to the reactionary Trump and his carnival barking.  But don't totally make it about Hillary vs. Trump --- her vs. him.  Don't make it a personality war.  Stick to your bread and butter.  Experience.  Temperament.  Strength.  Judgement.  Offer specific proposals and major priorities for the future... instead of vague rhetoric and infantile trash talk.

Close it with a "My name is Hillary... and granted... my slogan might be 'I'm with her'... but America... lemme tell ya something America. "I'M WITH YOU!!!  AND I WILL ALWAYS FIGHT FOR YOU!!!"  AND I WILL ALWAYS FIGHT FOR OUR CHILDREN AND THEIR FUTURE!!!  (cue that infinitely repetitive "this is my fight song, take back my life song"). 

Everyone floods the stage to embrace Hillary and her bosomy resolve.

So there ya go.  That's the general gist of my Hillary "expectance" speech.  Curious to see if I'm that far off.

the redprint

I suppose you could call this a blueprint... err uhh, "redprint" for a 2016 Trump victory.

Obviously, if you're on Team Trump, the goal is to secure the most votes.  But as Al Gore found out in 2000, that doesn't always work.  Hell, he got a half million votes more than W.  Still, George still eked out a narrow victory in the electoral college.  However, votes are good.  Right?

Not necessarily. 

Ralph Nader's presence on the Green Party ticket totally screwed over the founder of the internet.  Had it not been for Nader's decision to run, Gore would have become president and the last 15 years would have likely unfolded in a vastly different way.  Hint: no incentive for ousting Saddam, hence no war in Iraq.

The margins in the 2000 election were so slim that it simply became a matter of numbers and percentages.  A similar dynamic has emerged in this election cycle as well.

So if you're on the Trump Train (a/k/a the Jag-Off Express), the trick is to get diehard Bernie Sanders supporters to NOT cast a vote for Hillary Clinton.

By most estimates, the Sanders vote represents nearly half of the Democratic party.  That's a massive contingency of dedicated, reliable, activist voters.  These aren't the type of people who will voluntarily stay home on election night.  They are by definition "super-voters."  But here's the problem --- the overwhelming majority of these people sure as hell aren't going to vote for Trump.

But if you're a Trumpeter, that's fine and dandy.  And here's why.

Their campaign's mission should be to persuade the greatest number of Sanders supporters to vote Libertarian... by any means possible.  Judging from his behavior on the campaign trail, I seriously doubt Trump (or Hillary for that matter) would have any moral qualms about disingenuously poisoning the popular vote.  The question is --- if a political adviser went to him and said... "Hey, I think the clearest path to victory is to push the Libertarian party and their agenda," well, the question is, "would Donald bite?"  As the biggest egomaniac in the history of presidential politics... the answer is... probably not.  But as a self-professed strategist, polling connoisseur and calculating businessman... the answer becomes... maybe or even quite possibly.

Once again.

The objective:  Do NOT try to get the disaffected Berners to vote for Donald.  Why?  Because it's an exercise in total futility.  They won't do it.  Those Sanders loyalists will NEVER support Trump.  However, a significant percentage might be persuaded to vote Libertarian.  Just enough to fuck with the plurality.  Think of it like George Bush Sr. getting screwed over by Ross Perot in 1992 when Bill Clinton won.  But this time, the third candidate would emerge from the center-left, not the center-right.

So here's the Libertarian ticket: Gary Johnson and William Weld.

Johnson is the former Republican governor of New Mexico (a purple state) and Bill Weld is the former Republican governor of Massachusetts (a solidly blue state).  Both were popular governors and still have generally high approval ratings.  Even though most voters have no idea who the hell they are.  But guess what?  I think that might change.  Especially if they were to squeak into the debates.  Maybe one of the networks will surprise us (that means they think it'll get them higher ratings/increased revenue).  But for the love of Sir Edmund Hillary, it's the accuracy of "the national polling" that determines whether or not they're included in the pinnacle of presidential debates!  Yeah, right.  Gimme a fucking break. 

The Libertarian platform is grounded in economic conservatism (balanced budgets, fair taxation, reduced government) and social liberalism (pro-choice, pro-LGBT, prison reform, equal pay).  This is where most of the country is trending.  Less government, greater personal freedom and restrained use of military power abroad.  It's also where most Sanders supporters are ideologically aligned.  It's a reasonable fit.

So here's how you get Trump into the White House.

Spend big in the key swing states where Hillary is neck and neck or has a slight lead.  Obviously, OH-PA-FL.  But I'd also throw in NH, IA, WI and some of the other rust belt states.

Make targeted anti-Hillary ads about social issues.  Hit her where it hurts.  Where she derives the greatest amount of political capital.  Where her and the Sanders vote ideologically coincide.

Drugs and crime --- Marijuana legalization and the failed war on drugs.  Focus on incarceration rates among minorities and the private prison monolith.  This stuff resonates with the Sanders contingency.  Those hippies love their dope.  Sour Diesel, Bubblicious, White Rhino, etc.  Trust me, I know whereof I speak.

The Clinton administration (1992-2000) was widely responsible for the massive funding increases of local police departments.  Directly heap blame upon him and Hillary for the current police state and their militarized behavior.  All those internet videos of cops shooting unarmed victims are turbo-charged, emotional whirlpools.  More will surface before the election.  Draw the link.

Gay marriage --- People tend to forget that Hillary (and even Obama) were opposed to gay marriage UNTIL it became politically expedient.  In essence, neither had the moral vision UNTIL it was politically safe.  In the 2008 primary, they couldn't get on board with marriage equality.  Why?  Because they knew the political tide hadn't yet shifted and it might hurt them in the swing states.  A reminder of her calculated hypocrisy on gay marriage would be devastating.  By contrast, to the best of my knowledge, Gary Johnson has always been a supporter of gay marriage.  Play the "queer card."

Fact: 5 - 10% of the population is gay.  Even those weirdo log cabin Republicans are having misgivings about Trump and the party at-large.  And like I've been saying, a vote for Gary Johnson becomes more than a vote against Hillary.  It is a vote FOR Trump.  Lest I remind ye that this whole thing is a numbers game.

I'd also consider going after Hillary on the God issue.  Let's face the facts.  Religion is generally on the decline.  So why not try to carve out a tiny niche of the upscale black vote by making her appear as a phony non-believer?  Johnson is a Lutheran but not particularly religious.  He generally invokes the golden rule (do unto others).  Whereas, Hillary vanquishes her enemies and stomps them into the ground.  Now you don't build yourself up by tearing others down!  It's a narrative that might appeal to disenfranchised Bernie fans.  She already got away with this once... at our expense.  Don't let her do it twice.  Feel the Bern!  Although the mere thought of a Bernie Sanders "gregarious groin groping" is admittedly unappealing.

I just think there's a greater percentage of agnostic undecideds that lean to the left.  Would non-religious blacks and hispanics lean to the left as well?  Well, it's not much of a significant voting bloc.  But it's probably worth a shot, particularly in North Carolina.

Something else to keep in mind.  If you can convince a significant percentage of the Sanders diehards (and trust me, the people at his rallies might look a little suspect with the scalene beards, the dreadlocks, the centrist nose rings, the female armpit hair, and the tye-dyes), but I can assure you of one thing.  They are perpetually pissed off that Bernie got shafted.  Push the narrative that Bernie got fucked over by DNC Chair Debbie Wasserman Schultz.  And to a lesser extent, focus on her greasy, caucasian jerry-curl.  Behind the scenes, the Democratic National Committee is more divided than is generally known.  Take advantage of this.  Exploit the rift.

Another thing.  Don't forget about the Jill Stein.  She's the Green Party candidate.  Let her be your source for unlimited estrogen, even though I have a hunch she's well beyond menopause.  I could actually envision the Trump organization casting aspersions upon Hillary for her wilting, decrepit ovaries.  Offer some subtle reminders that she's the resilient, respected alternative female candidate... and more importantly, she's Jewish.  Try to snag away some of that white, wealthy, girlchick vote.  If you really need a woman in the White House, vote for one that isn't crooked and corrupt.  Never forget the Jew vote.

One more thing.  Compete in New York and New Jersey.  This would force the Clinton campaign to spend valuable dollars defending themselves in New York, one of the most expensive ad markets in the country.  Drain the DNC resources.  For the love of Christ, do NOT let Trump abandon his home state.  The vast majority of NYC voters probably despise him, but Manhattan is where he seems to thrive.  Stick with the angry, populist campaign.  But at the same time, don't forget about the opulent optics of Trump hotel, Trump plaza, Trump pokemon, whatever.  If Trump somehow wins New York, he wins it all.  Guaranteed.  I think it's worth a shot.  The voters elect Republican governors with surprising regularity (Jew-liani, Pataki, etc.)  I wanna be a part of it, New York New York!

California is probably too big of a stretch.  Steer clear of the West Coast. 

My point to all of this.  Hillary and Trump both have ridiculously high negatives.  And those negatives are not going to magically dissipate.  So why on earth, would you spend enormous sums of money trying to re-brand the Trump image in a positive light?  Newsflash: The guy is a jag-off and will continue to remain a jag-off, til death do us part... via jagging off (correctly referred to as auto-erotic asphyxiation).  Incidentally, I still think Trump or Hillary is going to get shot in the head.  Our country is just way overdue for a high profile political assassination.

Remember Sun Tzu and The Art of War...

• When strong, avoid them.  If of high morale, depress them.  Seem humble to fill them with conceit.  If at ease, exhaust them.  If united, separate them.  Attack their weaknesses.  Emerge to their surprise.
• All warfare is based on deception.  Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.

Presidential politics is war.  Hillary and Donald are engaged in a political war.  If you can't diminish those high negatives, the only realistic path to victory should be to hurl even greater negatives at your opponent... and deceive as many voters as possible along the way.  But the superior strategy is to "divide and conquer."  Less expensive, too.

If this entire strategy is too complex for team Trump (which is basically just this one guy named Paul Manafort and a hastily assembled crew of political sycophants), here's a simple fallback contingency plan.  I call it the nuclear option.

If Donald's finds himself faltering in late October, drop a Trump-bomb.  Just say... "Hey, if I am elected POTUS... I promise to donate 90% of my fortune to a variety of charitable causes."  I have a weird hunch there's a percentage of voters who would think... well hmm.  Both of them are corrupt and the system is rigged.  Might as well vote for Trump.  Hey, at least something good could come out of this whole election mess.

A final confession --- I absolutely love this political shit.  It's why I'm writing my fourth book.  A book more disturbing than my previous three (the most disturbing book ever written --- sonofsaf.com, the most dangerous book ever written --- dominipede.com, and the worst book ever written --- theimmaculaterejection.com).  A book that will be the "blueprint" or "redprint" for reshaping the future of voting rights and the state of Democracy as we know it.  One that will significantly alter the course of humanity.  But honestly, it's not a big deal.

I'll release it on the internet.  On election night, of course.  I'm sure everyone will be on pins and needles as the date approacheth.

Operation Condom Dog

Following the Kenny Chesney concert last year, I made a promise.  Actually, it was more of a solemn vow.  A sacred pact with humanity.

I unilaterally decided, by any means necessary, to draw attention to the abysmal state of security at Heinz Field.  It's regarding their dangerously outdated emergency evacuation protocol.  Heinz Field management knows all about the problem but will NEVER be proactive.  Simply put, it's in their better economic interest to hypothetically let people die... as opposed to just divulging the generic truth.

Official stadium emergency evacuation orders would NEVER be delivered via your cell phone or mobile device. 

How difficult is this?  That's all it is.  The bare minimum amount of information they're morally obligated to disseminate.  Regrettably, they've decided to deliberately keep their mouths shut and pretend there's no potential downside to having 68,000+ cell phones on the premises. 

Why?  Hint: it's about $.


If you wish to learn about the "artificially generated stampede" or worst case scenario "dominipede", check the site.  Or for you diehard Steelers fans, feel free to read my latest book --- The Immaculate Rejection.

Alright!  Onto the more important stuff.  And that's condom dog, baby!

Condom Dog is the hottest new thing on twitter.  It's prematurely trending both hard and lubricated.  Now you're probably wondering, "Condom dog???  What the fuck is this guy talking about?"

Fair enough.  Condom dog is about who you are... what you believe in... and the determination to express yourself.  It's more than just checking in or showing up at a high profile event (football game, rock concert, parade, political rally, etc.).  It's about making a statement and having an impact.  It's about embracing your freedom of speech. 

Condom dog brings the conversation directly to the people.  Condom dog is the ultimate guerrilla marketing tool.  Here's how it works.

Go to the local grocery store and buy the cheapest pack of hot dogs.  This will set you back about a dollar and change.  Next, head over to the public health department.  Ask them for a complimentary bag of prophylactics.  They'll be more than happy to give you a dozen or so.  Head home and throw that synthetic meat in the freezer.

Almost there.  Grab a pack of tooth picks or shish kabob skewers or chopsticks, a roll of scotch tape and some scratch paper.

Alright, now what is it that makes you tick?  Are you on the Trump Train (a/k/a the jag-off express)?  Perhaps you're a hardcore pro-lifer.  Maybe you're a born-again who wants to put the "Christ back in Christmas."  Or maybe you want everyone to shave their pubes.  Whatever your mission, whatever your cause... that's fine by me.  I don't give a shit!

Because cue the Montell Jordan --- this is how we do it!

Write down your message on the little piece of paper and turn that tiny wooden pole into a "flag of information."  Remember, it can be anything you want it to be.  You can promote your website.  You could profess your love of midget wrestlers.  You might even make an ironic commitment to a vegan lifestyle or a profuse desire to contract gonorrhea.  Like I said, it's your life.  You make the call.  Just be sure to include the following hashtag --- #condomdog. 

Now remove a weiner and lustfully unravel a condom on it.  Next up, stab that condom doggie with your flag.  Boom!  Done!  Easy, peasy, testicular cheesy.

Wherever you go.  Throw those dogs down.  Graduating magna cum laude?  How about the university podium?  Having a baby?  How about the waiting room of the maternity ward?  Awaiting a blessed circumcision?  How about the windshield of the moil's Buick LeSabre? 

Now I'm trying to promote safety and situational awareness at Heinz Field.  Since the Steelers and the NFL don't want to listen to any suggestion about stadium security, I took "my beef" directly to the Kenny Chesney fans.  Hey, they might be encrusted hillbilly filth.  But nonetheless, they still have a right to know the truth.  Everyone does.  So naturally I opted to "git the word out" in a most fitting, unconventional manner.

via piles of vomit.  

Note: as part of an ongoing effort to stimulate intellectual curiosity (something I found the Chesney crowd to be severely lacking)... I assigned a modified Kenny song to each picture.  Hopefully, that helps convey the message.

"She thinks my vomit's sexy"

"When the barf goes down"

"Old blue chunks"

"Dinnertime"

"There goes my lunch"

 "Me and spew"

"Pirate gag"

"Heaving in fast forward"

Feel free to share this blog on any social media platform.
#condomdog

Oh, what the hell!  How about a gratuitous photo of a random pop country pukaholic?

and here's a supplemental action shot.  I like how her friends are preoccupied.  Probably checking the Nasdaq quotes (on a Saturday night).

We'll close this blog out with the official trailer.  Great editing job!

Thoughts from the St. C. Trump rally

I went to a Donald Trump rally in St. Clairsville, Ohio a couple nights ago.  Before you question my political allegiances or mental stability/sanity, please be aware that I go to just about every presidential campaign event within an hour proximity.  This would be my third Trump rally (David Lawrence Convention Center, airport hangar at the Pittsburgh cargo terminal, and now the latest, Ohio Eastern University auditorium).  My primary motivation for attending is to distribute my propaganda. 

I've also attended several Bernie and Hillary rallies.  Even a Kasich one.  There was only one where I couldn't muster up the requisite enthusiasm.  Drumroll please.... it was Ted Cruz in Monroeville.  Seriously, can you blame me?  However, I do have incredibly fond memories of his running mate's "drop it like it's hot" stage disappearance. 

Reminds me of throwing towels down the old laundry chute. Or when you cash your check in the bank drive thru and the money comes hurdling down at ya in one of those cylinder containers via compressed air.  Swoooosh!

Since this is my third Trump rally, I thought I'd offer a few observations.  Pulling into the lot, the first thing you notice is the carnival atmosphere.  Roving black men selling t-shirts.  Incidentally, with the exception of Secret Service, TSA and local cops, these are the only individuals of color you will see at a Trump rally.  Surprisingly enough, they're kind of boisterous.  Running around from car to car, hustling and yelling... 

"Donald Fuckin' Trump for President!"  
"Monica sucks, Hillary Swallows!"
"Hillary for Prison!"
"Trump that Bitch!"  

This is their collective refrain.  Others are hocking hats, pins, lawn signs, etc.  Like I said, it's basically a yard sale/carnie atmosphere.  And guess what?  Yep, the pigeons are out in full force.  They're the most highly coveted market of the commercial sector--- white men aged 25-35.  Impetuous young male adults.  The impulsive ones who will buy anything.  There's a ton of overlap with the Kenny Chesney/UFC crowd.  I collectively refer to them as the "finger lookin' kids."

You think I'm kidding?

 

In a way, it's kind of fascinating.  The Trump crowd seems comprised mostly of those who feel "left behind."  Continually betrayed by the wealthy and upper class segments of society.  The ones who have an extreme distrust of Washington DC and the political elite.  Is it any wonder that some of these people would buy clothing with an overt fellatio reference and wear it as a definitive source of pride?  Honestly, who the fuck would wear a shirt that reads "Donald Fuckin' Trump?"  

Well... it is red, white and blue I suppose.

Build the Wall!  Build the Wall!, U.S.A.! U.S.A.!

For many of them, I imagine it's a deeply ritualistic rite of passage.  To be part of a grassroots movement.  Whatever conclusion you may draw, I'll tell you one thing for certain.  There's a populist camaraderie amongst the Trump crowd.  And it's not going away anytime soon.  The majority seem smitten and star-struck.  Trump is their celebrity hero du jour and he can do no wrong whatsoever.  That's a dangerous combination.

The crazy thing is this.  Ask any diehard Trump supporter if they have any fundamental disagreements on his positions, policy stances or style of governance.  The vast majority will be like... "Uhh, NO!  I'm on the Trump train."  Concerns about statesmanship and tone, waterboarding and torture, his shift from pro-choice to pro-life, from self-financing to asking for political contributions, his disdain for the media... the same media he used to catapult himself to victory in the Republican primary?  And what of his professed love for the military... yet he had 4 Vietnam era draft deferments?  Dick Cheney eat your artificial heart out! 

You see, most Trump supporters could care less about his policy flip-flops, flagrant lies or lack of knowledge in economics, politics, world affairs, etc.  They simply just don't give a shit.  And this sets a very eerie precedent... when his supporters are seemingly immune to any thoughtful conjecture or debate.  That kinda stuff happens when you idolize an individual and play the "hero worship" card.  For the average Trump supporter, The Donald can do no wrong.  And he'll never have to issue an apology.  While this unhinged zealotry may appeal to his supporters, it tends to frighten the majority of the voting population.  At least I would hope so.      

Something else to keep in mind.  Even though Hillary and Trump both have high negatives, I honestly believe that Trump is the candidate who can do a better job of acquiring new voters.  Seems to me that Hillary's popularity peaked long ago.  Whereas, Trump can flourish off any future events that are deemed as anti-government or anti-establishment.  That's a pretty big menu for success and a recipe that's really easy to spin.  Screw the high negatives.  If you're Donald Trump, it almost pays to embrace them.

So exactly what could secure a Trump presidency?  Well, there are an abundance of hypothetical scenarios.  But I think you know the one I'm talkin' about.

Dominipede, bitches! 

Westboro Baptist Church Golf Tees

I recently stumbled across this meme on facebook.

It reinvigorated my interest in "system disruptions" as it applies to my arch nemesis, the Westboro Baptist Church.

Personalized golf tees are relatively inexpensive.  A fair online price is 1,000 quality wooden tees for about $49.99 + s/h.

Here's my suggestion.  Make a ton of golf tees that read:

Westboro Baptist Church

785-273-0325

or

Sunday golf is sin

Westboro Baptist Church

785-273-0325

or

Golfers are drunkards. Repent.

Westboro Baptist Church

785-273-0325

You can personalize them with 1-3 lines.  The premise here is pretty obvious.  Whenever you go golfing, you occasionally scatter a few tees on the tee boxes.  Takes absolutely no effort whatsoever.  A box of tees makes a great Christmas gift for uncle Joe as well.  Trust me, it would be a fantastic conversation starter for when everyone's unwrapping gifts.

All golfers share one thing in common.  They all visually scan the tee box for a fresh tee.  Whenever you find a tee on the box or a ball in the woods, your first instinctive thought is... SCORE!

Now imagine incurring the wrath of the typical drunken golfer --- someone who just hooked their drive into the woods or missed a 3 foot putt.  The first thing that's going to pop into his head... "What the fuck was the Westboro Baptist Church doing here?"  Why the fuck were these assholes on my course?"

Naturally, a phone number is provided.  And since everyone has a cell phone on them these days, I'm pretty sure that at least one member of the foursome would goad someone into making the call.  It's merely a percentage play.  Just like everything else, it's a numbers game.  So when the brainwashed secretarial devotee in Topeka, Kansas picks up the phone at WBC Headquarters, they get bombarded with a seemingly nonsensical tirade.  

Stay the hell out of Canyon Resort you bastards!  Go preach your bullshit somewhere else!    

Don't tell me how to spend my day off, you fucking pieces of biblical shit!

Fuck you!  If I wanna drink a 6-pack, that's my business!  Not yours, asshole!

I like this idea because it promotes an aberrant discourse with people who go to extreme lengths to promote their own unique brand of fire and brimstone absurdity.  Seriously, these losers went out of their way to "protest" the funerals of the 2nd grade kids who were mowed down at Sandy Hook.  How could any rational person do something like that?  Even serial killers have better moral instincts.  You know you're on the wrong track when your popularity ranking is 3 points below cannibal Jeffrey Dahmer.

They're in Orlando as well.   I just think it's time for a little payback on the planet.  Or at the very least, a little balance.  

If you find this idea appealing, you may want to check out another one of my ideas that would transform the sport of golf.  I've gotten a fair amount of hits on this blog I wrote about five years ago.

Pittsburgh Segway Game

I came up with a new game today.  I call it Who the fuck are you?  It's modeled after the cartoon character Peter Griffin of Family Guy.

... and Roger Daltry, lead singer of The Who

.... and the Pittsburgh Segway tours

As some of you may know, I run a 3 mile loop pretty much everyday through the North Shore and Point State Park.  Depending on my stamina, sometimes I'll add an extra mile or two.  I start at my coveted parking spot outside the Sunoco Station on Cedar Avenue just off the secluded, mysterious Canal Street exit.  Just for the record, it's correctly pronounced Cane-uhl, not Kuh-nal.

Here's my basic route.  I do all three bridges, back and forth (Rachel Carson, Andy Warhol, Roberto Clemente) and through the PNC ballpark outfield.   If the gates are closed, I zip along the river.   Then it's down toward Stage AE.  Onward for a loop around Heinz Field and sometimes the casino if I'm really in the zone.  Then, over the Fort Duquesne Bridge and around the fountain at Point State Park.  Back over the bridge, snag 2-3 newspapers from the Hyatt and walk the rest of it back to base camp.

It's easily one of the coolest 5K paths in the entire country.

When the weather is pleasant, you often encounter these segway tours.  Helmeted visitors enjoying the sights and sounds... and smells (sometimes there are large piles of puke and puddles of urine after the annual Kenny Chesney concert at Heinz Field).

So here's the gist of the game.  As you jog by the lead segway tour guide, you pull a Peter Griffin.  Explanation: there was this one episode where the entire family was lost in a large crowd of a foreign city and desperately needed directions.   Naturally, Peter approached each person and asked each one individually in rapid fire succession , "Who are you, who are you, who are you, who are you?"  He did not wait for replies.  He just went from one person to the next.  "Who are you, who are you, etc." like a Blaney inspired machine gun laugh.

You simply take this same strategy and apply it to all of the mobile segway beings (helmeted automata --- the correct pluralization, even though you'd think it would be "automatons").  And on the final person, you start singing the classic Who song "Who are You" at the top of your lungs.

Cuz I really wanna know.  Who are you, who, who... who, who.  Ahhh, who the fuck are you, are you.  Who who... who who.  Ah tell me, tell me

The objective of the game is to get the segway automata to sing along.  It's a cool game because there are only two outcomes.  You either win (and they start singing)... or you lose (and they think you're an idiot freak and venture forward in confusion with a residual state of annoyance).  Either someone takes the bait or they all just plod off into the distance, content to live their dreary, unimaginative existences. 

I tried it today and failed.  But I know there will be another opportunity.  Eventually, my time will come.  For the love of God, everything depends on it!

Now let us say a prayer for the unfortunate victims of the 1970 Cincinnati Who concert stampede at Riverfront Coliseum.  Over the years, I've begun to notice a characteristic about human stampedes, particularly at religious festivals like last year's Hajj which had a death toll of over 2,400.  God, Allah, Vishnu or whoever just doesn't seem to give a shit.

Incidentally, my favorite all time Who song is --- drumroll please... Eminence Front.  After all, it's a put on.  People forget.

The Rehabilitated Remains of Ratt'n'Roll

Lots of action in the Burgh this week.

The Pens had their Stanley Cup parade dahntahn.  It drew an estimated 400,000.  Not sure about accuracy of that number, but I guess it's plausible.  I don't know what it is about Southwestern PA, but Pittsburgh must have the greatest per capita concentration of parades, fireworks, tattoos, body piercings and aspiring artists. 

Iconic rockers the Violent Femmes played a mile down the road at Mr. Smalls in Millvale on Tuesday.  Gigi made an unexpected trip to Orlando to "shoot" the Pulse Nightclub tragedy.  So she missed one of her bucket list bands... yet again.  She has always wanted to see the Femmes.  Oddly enough, I saw the Violent Femmes open for the Dead in the scorching summer of '91 at Buckeye Lake (formerly Legend Valley, a much cooler name).  I was there with Long Red Hair (Sylvia) and we had no idea there was even gonna be an opening band.  Needless to say, we both briefly lost our minds.  Maybe, just maybe, it was the recreational enhancements.  Hard to say.  I've seen a few bands open for the Grateful Dead --- Sting, Steve Miller, Traffic... but the Violent Femmes???  I'd like to get inside the mind of the person who booked that one.  Oooh, this will be a good fit.  Next thing you know, Peter Cetera is opening for Death Angel.  Culture Club for Slayer.

The Pittsburgh Pirates continue to falter.  They're in the midst of a horrible losing stretch.  Maybe the team's distracted.  I'd like to think it's my fault... as their abysmal play is directly coinciding with me dropping off "business cards" on my daily 3 mile jog.  I put those little, non-traditional gems in all the ticket windows.  Does it accomplish anything?  Probably not.  Just pissing them off.  But it makes me happy.  I have a hunch the Steelers down at Heinz Field are getting a bit irritated as well.  Even more so.

(front)

Could a "dominipede" be the next 9/11?

Is there a wireless equivalent to shouting FIRE

in a crowded theater?  Multiple theaters?

agsaf.org
Artificially Generated Stampede Awareness Foundation

(back)

People have a fundamental right to know...

that if they are in a large, confined crowd (stadium, ballpark, motor speedway, amphitheater, arena, etc.)

and receive an evacuation order and/or panic-inducing information 
from their cell phone or mobile device...

it's almost certainly a malicious hoax 

designed to create a human stampede.

Not your typical business card, eh?  Where the fuck's the contact info?  Where's the cool little logo?  Oh, you mean this one ---

Don't need it.  The information is more important.

Here's my best advice --- maybe check the website and do some actual reading.  I just threw up a new article yesterday.  It's about last week's Roger Goodell death hoax on twitter.   

Yesterday, the U.S. Open in Oakmont got hit with a massive rain delay.  There was a torrential downpour for about an hour.  Hopefully, they're forced to extend play into Monday.  If that's the case, I'll probably hit it.  Freebie tix will be everywhere and it'll be way less crowded.  Oddly enough, in my entire 45 years, I've never attended a professional golf event.  Well, I did go to an LPGA match at Oglebay back when I was 13.  I wouldn't say that really counts.  I'll never forget this lady golfer complaining, "The ball is stuck in this shit down there.  It's all shit!  What the fuck am I supposed to do?"  I was a little taken aback by her terse description of the course conditions at Speidel.

So anyway, last night G and I went to see my high school heroes --- RATT!!!  They had a concert scheduled for Jergel's in Warrendale.  Well, except it really wasn't Ratt.  It was drummer Bobby Blotzer's reincarnation of the vestigial remains of that which was once termed Ratt.  Hey now, Blotzer is a local from Turtle Creek.  Other than Mike Lange's anguished oink of Arnold Slick from Turtle Crick, he's the only person I know who hails from that particular quadrant of outer Monroevia.

This rodent re-invasion consisted of all new band members.  Gone was bass player Juan Croucier and Warren Demartini (who incidentally, bears a slight resemblance to my brother Bennett from back in his hippie Oberlin College days).

Their rhythm guitarist Robin Crosby died back in 2002 of AIDS related complications.  Hard to believe it was almost 15 years ago.  And what of Stephen Pearcy?  His most recent vocal stylings sound like a squealing Lemiwinks inside the colon of deceased Motorhead singer Lemmy.  Seriously, if I were to make a culinary analogy, the closest approximation would be "charred Spam" or "wet Funyun."  Ohh, how the mighty have fallen.

Alright, I'll start from the beginning.  Yesterday, having never been there, I checked the Jergel's facebook page.  Doors open at 6pm.  Show starts at 8.  Some guy named Grimy McFunkerson was really excited.  He was gonna snag a table right near the stage at 4pm.  Color me jealous.  I didn't know how big the place was but I was anticipating a packed house.  Maybe 800 people or so.

Tickets were priced at $45.00.   For what basically was a refurbished bar band.  Fuckin' ouch.  This made me start to have some serious doubts.  I mean, we almost certainly wouldn't be able to score freebies or do any wheelin' and dealin'.  I don't like being taken advantage of.  Not on a Thursday for Christ sake.  Hey, this ain't college night!

Nevertheless, we set out around 8:40 and got there a little after 9:00.  The parking lot seemed about half full.  We hung out in the car and had some Sweet Tarts and drank a little red wine.  Hmmm.  About 9:15pm rolled around and we said, "alright, let's do this shit."  So we walked straight in the front door and went right to the bar.  Nobody stopped us.  Nobody said shit.  I am not a religious man.  But praise be given to the glory of the Allah!  Seriously, let us sing the praises of the gnawing, gerbilicious gods.  We shalt honor and extol thine excrement and miniscule rodent droppings.

If there is a cloud 9, well... then I was on cloud 10.  The thought of having to fork over $90 was simply not copacetic.

So Gigi had a Bombay and tonic and I got a bottle of Coors Light.  Best damned fizzy water I ever tasted in my life.  We noticed that everybody had wrist bands.  Damn, I should have brought those rainbow Chevron wristbands I snagged from the gay pride parade.  Yep, there was yet another parade in Pittsburgh on Sunday.  It was the week-long culmination, or rather weak-dong cumination of sodomistic activities that coincided with the end of the Arts Fest.  Why on earth is oil and gas titan Chevron Texaco actively involved in the gay rights movement?  I have no idea.  But they do make a mean wristband.

My favorite moment from the gay parade was the two guys wearing matching shirts --- in all caps, "I'M PROUD OF MY FUCKING HUSBAND."  Like it?  No.  I fucking love it!

So was Jergel's packed?  Uh, no.  I'd say about 150 Ratt'n'Rollers absolute tops.  I kind of felt bad for them.  Hardly what I'd consider a warm homecoming for the Blotz.  I won't do a song by song analysis.  However, I must give credit where credit is due.  They do NOT play an identical, regurgitated setlist night after night.  From show to show, they really mix it up.  They dig deep into the archives.  And the band sounded totally outstanding.  Their singer, whatever his name is, is far superior to Stephen Pearcy.  We'll just call him ratatouille.  Ratatouille was a vegan delight.  A hearty amalgamation of eggplant, zucchini, peppers and tomatoes.  Diced not crushed, mutha fucka!  He really encapsulated the essence of Pearcy's studio voice.  Truth be told, Pearcy's raspy sound is a challenge to replicate.  But if anything, it was always unique.  Kinda in an AC/DC-Brian Johnson-esque kinda way.  

So we spotted the WXDX 105.9 SuperPenis.  Naturally, I walked by and threw down a few business cards on his table.  Fuck that fat ass.  Gigi tapped him on the shoulder and said "supergenius" while doing the "blind walk-by flip off."  Nice.  As much as I enjoy listening to his humor and insight, the guy really is an obnoxious tub of egomaniacal lard.  One day.  One day this will become apparent to the masses.  Until then, you do what the cool kids do and follow him on twitter.

My partner in crime scored a setlist from the soundboard guy. 

I like the misplaced apostrophe for "YOUR'E IN LOVE."

Three of the songs were omitted from the show.  Closer To my Heart (one of my favorites - sucked), You Should Know By Now (another one of my favorites - double sucked) and Body Talk (no big deal).  For one them, they subbed in Dance, Dance, Dance.  Always liked that song.  15 songs instead of 18.   I've always been a huge fan of Out of the Cellar and Invasion of Your Privacy.  Their other stuff... not so much.

Show was easily over before 11pm.  

All in all, we had a good time.  Just glad we didn't have to pay.  I wouldn't have been able to reconcile the evening's festivities.  Instead, I would have been forced to bear that burden for probably at least a decade or so.  I'm also glad we didn't get there at 4pm.  Although, I would have enjoyed sharing fond memories of Ratt'n'Roll with Grimy McFunkerson.

A final unrelated thought.  During the recent cicada invasion of Northern West Virginia, one of my best friends Amandasar Overmars (Amanda) gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.  Her and her husband BTE (Big Tall Eric) opened up the naming rights to the general public.  They eventually decided on Gabriella Marie.  My name of choice was "Ada Cicada."  Not only would this endearing name have coincided with the 17 year biblical plague of locusts.  But it's also a very catchy palindrome that comes on the cusp of palindrome week (6-12-16, 6-13-16, 6-14-16, etc.).

So if you recently gave birth and are still looking for a unique name for yer baby girl, feel free to snag it.  You can always go with the more traditional Adeline and keep Ada as a nickname.  Just for the record, I watch Maury Povich paternity testing and routinely see names like Jamjam, Pajama, Flowerama, Blazin', and Liberty Bell.  So is Ada Cicada really that much of a stretch?  I think not.

And if it's a boy, how about the palindrome-consistent Rattar or Trattart?  Both have a Moroccan tinged vibe.   FYI - the capital of Morocco is Rabat.  And what about my personal palindropic fave, Tartar Ratrat?   Great name if your parents own a fish store and it was shut down by the Department of Health.  Or you could go the more traditional route and just name the kid Rat (Mark "Rat" Ratner from Fast Times at Ridgemont High).  Or like I said earlier... how about Ratatouille?  I really like these vegan-inspired names.  Borscht, Carrot (as in Carrot-top), maybe Cuke or even Rutabaga.  This seems like it could be the new rage.  So many are embracing the organic crap.

The best example is my friend Mitch who goes to Sam's Club and buys the 100 lb. sack of potatoes for $19.99.  Then, he'll hit up the nearby farmers market.  He distributes them evenly into 20 smaller baskets and writes the word "ORGANIC POTATOES" on all of them.  $5.00 a basket.  Boom!  He just made $80 in no time.  Are they organic?  No.  Are they orgasmic?  Possibly.  He even has a stack of fliers which detail the benefits of organic produce.  Good sell.

Back to the baby names.  I once knew this kid named Burgess Burgess.  True story.  And that was back in the late 70's.  Feel free to share your favorite name in the comment section below.  For the love of God Dog, this blog could use a little feedback and interaction. 

HBK, BGM

The Pens might win the Stanley Cup on Thursday.  Seems like a good opportunity to head down to Consol and preach the gospel.  I think I'm going to make 500 business cards and hand them out accordingly.  It'll set me back $13.99.  So is it worth it?  Yes.  I believe it is.


(front)

agsaf.org

Artificially Generated Stampede Awareness Foundation

(back)

 

People have a fundamental right to know...

that if they are in a large, confined crowd and receive an evacuation order
and/or panic-inducing information from their cell phone or mobile device...

it's almost certainly a malicious hoax designed to create an artificially generated stampede.

So yeah, that looks like your typical business card.  You know.  Gotta support the team.

It's getting a little cliche.  Everyone's still yapping about the HBK line.  Hagelin, Bonino, Kessel.  What a creative talking point for your average Pixburgh junkhead!

However, I will confess.  That particular anti-Trump, hispanic barrage was pretty cool.

And of course, there's the Primanti's HBK equivalent.  Ham, Bacon, Kielbasi.

It got me to thinking.  As history is my witness, I've almost always grown a playoff beard when the Penguins are in the playoffs.  Steelers too.  Pirates?  Well, I've rarely been afforded the opportunity... until just recently for a couple of "one and dones."

So here's my idea.  Men in Pittsburgh with the capability to grow actual facial hair should consider my BGM concept.  It stands for Beard, Goatee, Mustache.

Penguins make the playoffs --- you grow a beard.
Steelers make the playoffs --- you grow a goatee.
Pirates make the playoffs --- you grow a mustache.

Mustache???  Abso-fuckin'-lutely.  I think we can all get behind the idea of every man walking around PNC Park sporting the traditional, weirdo-creepy mustache look.  In the line at the port-a-jon, hanging out in the guest relations room, and especially while being tasered by ballpark security as you're eagerly awaiting yer Dippin' Dots.  It's a win-win... for local yinzers, nationwide televised sports, pretty much humanity in general.

Women could participate as well.  I'd recommend the BGM "pubic-equivalent."  Maybe go with the classic choices --- landing strip, heart-shaped box and the Charlie Chaplin (or if you prefer, Hitler).  Speaking of Hitler, I like the idea of replicating a Trump vaginal pubic design.  Maybe call it the Trump Stump or Forrest Trump.  I like the forest-oriented spin on the word bush.  A sharp side part, and then an overly-slicked wavy clump of pubes.  Bone-us points if you're an actual ginger.

As I was saying, any way you shape it, it's a win-win.

So I'm gonna take my electric razor down to Consol on Thursday night.  If the Pens win it all, I'll shave this grey crinkly crap on the spot.  It's really gotta go.

 Who knows, maybe they'll let me do it for the 11 o'clock news?