Being the continuation of InstaPunk and InstaPunk Rules
Got to thinking about the Stones for some reason
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Haven’t looked at them for a long time now, closing on two years. Mick’s too old to be a sex god anymore. #metoo. Though I heard somebody’s missing. But memories fade away anymore these days. The red circle is Charlie Watts. Best rock drummer ever. He should phone home. Not nice to keep loved ones waiting.
Great story about this record. Showed up in my prep school closet.
Played for years with plenty of scratches but not a skip. Providence.
How I met The Rolling Stones, the only satirists good as me in 1968.
Brings tears to my eyes. Kind of. That unfortunate Beatles phase did no credit to no one. Oh well. Why does this face keep swimming into my ken?
I know. They’re saying he’s dead. Join the Club, Charlie. Three of your best Stones efforts:
Had his own jazz band. Also beat out this Stones rap.
He wasn’t handsome. Sharp, clean face. More like a red eft (ferret) than a porcupine.
My private name for him was Sredni Vashtar. But I’m old and failing myself. Just watch him.
The last time Charlie was a Rolling Stone.
Where Charlie is, I’m sure.
Something to finish with.
So don’t pay. Try this instead.
Lisa, Lisa, Lisa.
Then there’s this. Sorry. I didn’t bring up the Stones. Monica did. Now everything goes to hell in the Postscript:
P.S. I’m still getting over Bowie dying. He wasn’t allowed. Even if he reminded me of me.
I get confused. Sometimes I’m Jagger. Sometimes I’m Bowie. The girls used to think I was David. Imagine the identity crisis with this:
Little TG, little Rap, what’s not to like before everything went to hell.
Because all families are dysfunctional these days, and here’s the thing about me.
I can be Tee-Gee
For fun and bonhomie
But that ain’t me.
I a he-man writer be.
Truth is, I remember the night Elvis died. Almost 50 years ago. Stayed up all night to listen. Thought I should have done the same for Charlie. Thought better of it, then did it by accident.
Stayed yo all night when he died. Like I just did, again.
How this post came to be. Saw this promo from the wrecked icon called the New Yorker and was reminded of a post put up here some months ago: Why didn’t I crop out the squatting woman? Truth in advertising. That’s not true, actually. In fact, it’s a lie. I wouldn’t have stumbled on this lovely screenshot if it weren’t for an image I’d used in a Facebook post some days before: You won’t believe this, but while Iwas posting the pic just above, my wife showed me her ROFL pic from the The Babylon Bee… …Which is obviously directly relevant to the rantings of the Glasser person who thinks everything Trump has ever done or will do is a mortal sin against the Manhattan scripture called The New Yorker. Don’t get me wrong. I used to love The New Yorker. Then they surrendered it to the Smart Women, under the subscription-shrinking stewardship of Tina Brown, whose legacy has led gradually to the dollar-a-copy pitch shown in the first graphic above. Today’s mag looks a like the old one, but tha...
We, of course, were as offended as anyone by the President’s evident pleasure in being depicted as Creator of the Universe. His later insistence that it was just a plate of food that happened to have blond hair was disingenuous to say the least. There. That’s out of the way. Putting aside all the bluster about blasphemy by secular observers whose relation to religion is probably a checkbox item, I believe there is a real story lurking in all the feigned outrage. a neon flash of double standards. It’s a media story, probably meaningless to those who aren’t ancient enough to have witnessed Obama’s first year in office. He was kind of everywhere, on every news interview program, every newspaper headline, and every magazine cover. (For the youngsters in the audience, there used to be things called magazines with words and pictures in them. It was a big deal to be featured on their covers.) If you weren’t a big Obama fan — and maybe even if you were — this got to be kind of sickening a...
Lewis Hamilton wins Seventh World Championship at Formula 1 Grand Prix in Turkey: A stunning drive from Mercedes’ Lewis Hamilton in the Turkish Grand Prix gave him his 10th victory of the season – and, more crucially, saw him claim the seventh drivers’ title of his career, to equal the record of Michael Schumacher, as Racing Point’s Sergio Perez and Ferrari’s Sebastian Vettel completed the podium after a thrilling race in Istanbul. Hamilton had started the race in sixth, risen to third midway through the first lap and then dropped back to sixth by the end of Lap 1 after an error at Turn 9. But a decision to change his intermediate tyres just once saw Hamilton drive a masterful race to claim victory by over 25 seconds from Perez. The win alone was enough to claim championship #7, but it was even more assured after a disastrous race for Valtteri Bottas - the only man who could have stopped Hamilton winning the title today - who spun six times en route to a P14 finish.
Haven’t been here for a while. Cooling my heels on maybe half a dozen posts for which I have content materials assembled and the writing just awaiting the typing I don’t feel like doing against the relentless pass rush of AutoCorrect/AI. Stranded, I guess. My principal emotion is akin to what I felt back in 2019, when I took a year off from this site because who can write about dread every day? Like then, my mind is telling me the Dark Age is upon us because we don’t deserve to be saved from the fate our enemies intend for us. They’re brain-damaged sociopaths; a near majority of us are just brain-damaged. Good guys and bad guys both done in by appalling lack of education and undeveloped consciousness skills at foreseeing consequences from a Universe-of-One perspective. I don’t like gas prices at the pump, I don’t like the way Trump talks so mean, and the Iran thing I just don’t get, so I won’t vote this time. Fine. We get what we deserve as a nation. That’s the real American Way. No ot...
HINT: It’s more than flashy hair. President John F. Kennedy now resides in a curious limbo. He was briefly the face of the Democrat Party as it wanted to see itself in the post-WWII era. In hindsight he was an anomaly in the party’s history. Before JFK, the most prominent Democrat Presidential contenders teetered between the crude (Andrew Jackson, William Jennings Bryan, Harry Truman, Al Smith) and the unashamedly elite (Stephen Douglas, Jefferson Davis, Rutherford B. Hayes, Woodrow Wilson, FDR, Adlai Stevenson). JFK was an interesting hybrid of both. Like Al Smith, he was a Roman Catholic, like FDR a graduate of Harvard College. His lineage also had its disreputable side, with a family fortune reputedly acquired by bootlegging during the Great Depression. Backed by that fortune, he became famous and successful at an early age but was criticized as callow and rumored to be a philanderer in his first years in the Senate. When he became a presidential candidate, he was a clear brea...
I’ve been at sixes and sevens about this post since I knew I had to do it. Even had a hard time picking the leadoff graphic. This one does convey the idea of questioning the decision by a great man of senior years. But this one introduces the notion that Philip Glass’s principled stand is one that has been sponsored by indolent dilettantes who didn’t give a fig about the Kennedy Center during the decades in which it has been literally falling down. Falling down. Along with all the forms of high art the Kennedy’s were trying to inspire with a facility for culturally significant performances by the nation’s most gifted artists. Interesting and ironic that they choose the 87 years Philip Glass to deliver their most stinging blow against the unspeakable privately financed renovation of the crumbling building and its wayward preoccupation with niche artistes. Am I getting ahead of myself here? Did you miss the story when it broke? Lawrence O’Donnell, the left’s fantasy Dean of Jeffersonian ...
Is that a bullet hole? Or a black hole? It’s complicated. We don’t like complicated. If you can’t say it in a tweet or a 30 second sound bite on teevee, don’t waste our time. I remember some decades ago when it was a great joke one year that USA Today had just won a Pulitzer Prize for “Best Investigative Paragraph.’ These days any argument that requires research, in-depth analysis, and careful piecing together of the people and partisan positions involved is easily dismissible as conspiracy theory, most likely by right wing fascist liars. Why don’t we like complicated? That’s simple enough. We don’t like complicated because we can’t do it anymore. By the time we get to school we’re already too dumb to acquire the kind of critical thinking skills needed to navigate ‘complicated,’ and the philosophy of education now in place has adapted by ceasing any attempt to teach critical thinking skills or provide the base of historical information and learning that used to make investigative repo...
Judge Tiffany Baker-Carper Why would I lead off a story about a controversial judge with a picture of her all dolled up for a social occasion? To get it out of the way. Yes, she’s a good-looking, shapely young woman. That’s not the issue, which is not personal but systemic on the face of it. If she made a grave misjudgment because the situation was over her head, the first appropriate question is not what kind of terrible person is she, but rather why was she on the bench in the first place? Here’s the story as reported yesterday by the Gateway Pundit: FTA: <<The pedophile, Daniel Spencer, was convicted in April 2025 of traveling to meet a minor for sex following an undercover sting operation. Despite the State Attorney’s Office recommending he be held without bond pending sentencing, Judge Baker-Carper allowed Spencer to remain free, citing his lack of violent criminal history and prior compliance while on bond. Weeks later, on May 19, 2025, Spencer and his wife, Chloe Spen...
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