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Tag Archives: Donald Trump

2021, YOU GOT SOME ‘SPLAININ’ TO DO…

Cartoon used by permission: 247093_RGB_1290.png 2020 Won’t change by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

Did anybody else lapse on their “dry-wine January resolution” already?  Everybody?  I thought so!  It isn’t even Inauguration Day yet, and I am wishing I had planted a cannabis field in the swamp behind my house when I had the chance.

2021—what a shitshow!  If I had known this year was going to set the stage for the breaking of America, I would have never started a new diet, never started a weight-training program, and never started on my fourth book.  Instead, I would have jumped headlong into hedonism and let the chips fall where they may.  As the Peggy Lee song says, “…if that’s all there is, my friends, then let’s keep dancing. Let’s break out the booze and have a ball, if that’s all there is.”

Cartoon used by permission:  247475_RGB_1290.png Breaking News by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

It almost seems as if we hired the wrong year. 

Does anyone know if 2021 came with references?  I would love to interview Baby 2021, and make sure it is prepared for what is up ahead.  I thought on New Year’s Eve that 2,600 American deaths a day from COVID-19 might be a gargantuan task for the little tyke to overcome, but I figured once we got our new President installed, we’d be able to make 2021 a year of recovery and healing.  And then came the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the unbearable…

Cartoon used by permission: 247294_RGB_1290.png The Patriotic Terrorist by Christopher Weyant The Boston Globe MA

As I watched the insurrection unfold, I started crying.  I don’t know what horrified me more: the brazen murderous hordes trying to overturn a free and fair election or that the mob was being led by White Supremacists masquerading as Evangelical Christians praying for God to bless their invasion to capture, judge, and execute the Vice President, Nancy Pelosi, and other legislators they hated while waving signs that said: “Jesus is my savior. Trump is my president,” “Jesus saves,” and “God’s Word Calls Them Out.”

These haters of liberty—these Christian Dominionists (ideology that America belongs to the Christian god, and only his approved followers are allowed to rule for now until Jesus returns)—were so rabid that one would be forgiven for thinking that the invaders might have been escapees from a mental institution.  Instead, they were pastors, realtors, a Texas florist, the son of a Brooklyn judge, police officers, a professor, a firefighter, a newly elected West Virginia lawmaker, teachers, a couple of misguided Black people, and even kids.

Cartoon used by permission: 247354_RGB_1290.jpg Refile Nuremberg Cartoon Correct Spelling by Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com

How could the year 2021 have missed the signs from Donald Trump that he had no plans to ever concede or acknowledge the truth that he had lost? Instead, Trump sent out signals for weeks for the deplorables to come to DC and “stop the steal.”  Trump’s Big Lie that the election had been stolen from him almost upended our democracy and blew up what little bit of our nerves we had left from being tormented by COVID-19.  I reasoned that if this is the way 2021 started, I probably won’t survive until 2022, so I wrote 2021 a letter with a few tips on what is most important to help America triumph in this new year.

Cartoon used by permission: 247639_RGB_1290.png Feeding the fringe by Adam Zyglis The Buffalo News NY

DEAR BABY 2021:

Welcome to the new year!  Everybody is so glad that you’ve arrived.  We could hardly wait to get rid of your predecessor.  Your big brother, 2020, left us with 4 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide—400,000 of them Americans. The sane part of our country was pleased that 2020 helped us elect a new American President to lead us out of the mayhem and madness that Trump world had wrought.  For that reality, most of us will be forever grateful.  However, my expectation was that you, 2021, would help us ascend from the manure pile of the last four years. No offense, but you haven’t gotten off to a very good start.  I realize you are young, but you need to be a multi-tasker, Little Dude, because there are dragons in the land.

Cartoon used by permission: 247115_RGB_1290.png Pressure on Baby New Year 2021 by Jeff Koterba CagleCartoons com

Also, you appear to be soooo naïve Baby 2021.  I think you thought that just by electing a good and just man who was qualified to be President of the United States (Joe Biden), all would be well. And then came January 6th when a bunch of crazy people decided they weren’t going to allow Biden to become President—even if it meant killing their fellow citizens.  Long after Trump is gone, the spirit of the murderous mob will still be going strong and trying to permanently change the patina of our nation.  They are Hell bent on it.

Should you choose to accept being our current year Baby 2021, here is your first agenda item:  You must slaughter the lead dragon.  His name is Deception, and he masquerades as Truth mainly within White Evangelical churches, which acts as a cover for White Supremacy theories, Q-Anon conspiracy theories, and Christian Nationalism. The violent insurrection that happened on January 6th was led by the dragon Deception in the guise of Christianity and patriotism (Nationalism).  On January 6th, Americans lost their innocence as to who we are as a democracy and who our greatest enemies are.  Before Trump, many of us thought we were a multicultural nation where equality and voting were every citizen’s right, and our greatest enemies were international terrorists.  Well, surprise, surprise, surprise!  It looks as if the terrorists are domestic (extremely White), and they blew a shofar (Jewish religious ceremonial horn of a ram appropriated by Christians) as some White “Christian” woman sang “Peace in the name of Jesus…the blood of Jesus covering this place” before storming the Capitol

Cartoon used by permission: 247642_RGB_1290.jpg We have met the enemy by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

Baby 2021, not all the insurrectionists were Christians, but too many of them were, which meant that they had compromised the true meaning of Jesus and Christianity and were being emboldened by the Dragon of Lies.  They were the super glue of Trump’s presidency and stopped hearing anyone else’s voice but Trump’s.  When he said “storm the Capitol,” they replied: “Heil Trump!”  It didn’t matter that they were responding to a lie. It only mattered that they were following their Dominionistic leader’s instructions to keep him in power.

Your assignment is to wake up so-called “Christian” Trumpers to the truth. Their hearts, minds, and actions should belong to Jesus who is the epitome of Truth. The truth is: Trump didn’t win the 2020 election, Trump is not God’s chosen one, Trump is a very, very bad man, Trump is a murderer (over half the COVID-19 deaths are due to his negligence), Trump has lied over 40k times, and in God’s good time, Trump’s “ass is gonna be grass” (don’t know what that means? Ask any Black person over 40).  Baby 2021, do whatever is necessary to open the Christian Trump followers’ eyes. They were so tenacious at the riot because they thought they were doing God’s will, and they had no idea that they were being played by the demon Donald Trump.  I have a theory that if you can open the eyes of this group to the actual truth about the Giant Orange Lie they have been following, you might have a chance in repairing our democracy this year.

Cartoon used by permission: 247438_RGB_1290.jpg Foundations of Democracy by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com

In the meantime, there is hope.  There are better angels among us—a majority of Americans who have not swallowed the lie and won’t let the insurrectionists get away with their crimes.  Yesterday those courageous better angels impeached Donald Trump for the second time.  Tomorrow we remember and celebrate one of our most precious better angels who has passed on before us, but who left a legacy of truth, hope, and love:  Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.   That legacy will continue to be fulfilled by the election of our first Black, Indian-American, woman as Vice President, and the election (against all odds) of an extremely qualified, humble man as President who knows what truth looks like.

Cartoon used by permission: 205175_RGB_1290.png Keep Looking Up by Jeff Koterba Omaha World Herald NE

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 247613_RGB_1290.jpg Wisdom for the Right by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on January 17, 2021 in Uncategorized

 

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ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS . . .

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: In case you haven’t noticed 2020 has been a real shit show.  I’m so traumatized that I’ve got God on speed dial, and I’m harassing White Santa Claus every hour on the hour for what I want for Christmas.  Below are a few of my petitions sent directly to the North Pole. 

Cartoon used by permission: 246820_RGB_1290.jpg Stuck at home for Christmas by John Cole The Scranton Times Tribune PA

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  All I want for Christmas is my brain back.  A 72-year-old brain is not supposed to handle a pandemic, a lunatic, racist President who is destroying our country, people dying by the thousands per week—including personal friends—families being evicted on a daily basis, me unable to see friends from out-of-town and family for almost a year, threat of a civil war over to mask-or-not-to-mask, and the curse of possibly getting COVID-19 and dying from it due to my age and comorbidities.  I wrestle with insomnia and my brain is threatening to leave home and not return until Jesus comes back or you show yourself to be real.  I’ve never seen evidence of you in my life, you know.  Remember how you never bought me one toy when I was a poor Black child—not one fuckin’ toy?  I admit I wasn’t the best kid, but I wasn’t the worst either.  You try growing up in foster homes and an orphanage, and see how you manage. Do I sound bitter?  Maybe just a little.  Well, now is the time for you to make it up to me. I want you to start giving me presents.  Let’s start with my brain: I want my brain back!

Before I entered 2020, my brain was superb! I played “Hand, Knee, Foot, Canasta” every Monday with a bunch of ladies, wrote three books, and hundreds of stories and essays.  Now my brain has turned to mush, and I’m sure it is due to stress.  This morning, I lined up behind a man in the grocery store who looked like someone I know very well, but since I’ve never had to pick him out of a lineup by recognizing his ass, I wasn’t quite sure if it was my friend or not since we were six-feet apart.  However, I prepared to shout, “Hi—Merry Christmas!” to his back through my two super-duper Israeli masks (I take no chances at the grocery store), but when I opened my mouth, I couldn’t remember his name.  WTF! White Santa Claus, I panicked!  I know this man very well—I know his wife even better, but all I could bring to the forefront of my brain was the first initial of his name: “B.”  Any minute I knew the guy would turn around, and I’d have to address him by name.  Was it Bob, Bill, Ben, Barry, Bryson, Bennett, Brandon, Beau, Blake…? As beads of sweat formed on my forehead and dripped beneath my four-ply masks, he turned around, recognized me, and I went for broke: “Hi, Brody—Merry Christmas, my friend!” My friend didn’t recoil in horror so I must have gotten his name correct.  He greeted me by name (clearly his brain is still intact), and we yelled our commiserations back and forth about how we are both soooooo over 2020.  Whew!

Cartoon used by permission: 246243_RGB_1290.jpg Christmas List by Rick McKee CagleCartoons com

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  The second thing I want for Christmas is for you to capture Donald Trump and take him back to the North Pole with you.  Put him on a strict diet of no cell phone, no social media, no fast food, no sex, no sycophants, no friends, no relatives, no money, no visitors, and no red caps.  In other words, put him in prison.  Keep him there until he repents for the 40,000-plus lies he’s uttered, asks forgiveness to all the women he’s sexually abused, and confesses to all the crimes he’s committed.  Please throw away the key.

Cartoon used by permission: 246467_RGB_1290.jpg My favorite gift by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  Another thing I could use for Christmas is for you to end 2020 the day after Christmas.  Just skip to 2021.  We’ve all had it with this year. This isn’t a deal breaker, but it sure would be nice.

Cartoon used by permission: 246623_RGB_1290 (1).jpg Peace on Earth by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  One more thing I’d like for Christmas: please lobotomize the MAGA people.  While doing so, please clean the wax out their ears and soften their hearts to hear the true message of Christmas.  (It wouldn’t hurt to glue their mouths shut!) I’m sure you’ve noticed that they have been very bad little boys and girls for the past four years and are still misbehaving to the point of trying to engage in a civil war.  Ain’t nobody got time for that, White Santa.  They don’t believe the pandemic is real, they won’t wear masks and social distance, they’re saying that they won’t take the vaccine for the COVID-19, and they think the election was stolen from he-whose-name-I-hope-will-never-be-spoken-after-2020.  I know you tend to have a soft spot for White people, but they gotta go, Dude!

Cartoon used by permission: 246111_RGB_1290 (1).jpg All I want for Christmas by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  All I REALLY want for Christmas is to hug my kids, grandson, and sister.  But since I can’t, please bless our Zoom times together, and grant us much joy and laughter.  I’d like to put in my “ask” for next Christmas though:  May my family and I all be together in person on Christmas 2021. Amen!

Cartoon used by permission: 246784_RGB_1290.jpg Christmas Wish by Bill Day Tallahassee FL

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  All I want for Christmas is my two vaccines.  I’m following all the rules and doing all that is necessary to keep others safe as well as myself.  These vaccines are my ability to see family and to travel.  Maybe I’ll even come visit you, Chubby Dude—assuming you’ve received your shots.

Cartoon used by permission: 204440_RGB_1290.png HAPPY BIRTHDAY by Milt Priggee Kitsap Sun

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  What I really, really want for Christmas, I don’t think you’re capable of giving me. In fact, I think even with all your good intentions, you obfuscate the real meaning of Christmas.  The real hope of Christmas is not an obese White man (no offense) who sneaks into houses via chimneys, devours cookies and milk at EACH HOUSE (Seriously? you probably have diabetes something fierce), and uses reindeer-power instead of gas or electricity to get here and there.  No offense, Dude, but I want the true promise of what the birth of Jesus means to all mankind:  peace on the Earth, goodwill to all people, no more hunger, no more strife, love and grace to everyone, no more sadness, no more sorrow, and joy to all!  If you see Jesus in your travels, please let him know that his character and name have been hijacked in 2020 to mean something other than what Christmas should be all about, and we could use a refresher course.

Cartoon used by permission: 246732_RGB_1440.png Bedtime Prayer by Ed Wexler CagleCartoonscom

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on December 23, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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OFFICIAL EVICTION NOTICE FOR ONE DONALD J. TRUMP AND HIS RESIDENTIAL DEMONS

Cartoon used by permission: 245464_RGB_1290.jpg Trump Evicted by Bill Day, Tallahassee FL

EVICTION NOTICE

TO:         Loser, Donald J. Trump

                1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

                Washington, DC            

  a.k.a. The White House

Cartoon used by permission: 245558_RGB_1290.png Trump Leaving White House by Bart van Leeuwen PoliticalCartoons com

Pursuant to the provisions of The Constitution, you are hereby given an eviction notice to vacate, on or before January 20, 2021, the premises and appurtenances (all accessories or other items associated with the Presidency such as Air Force One, any helicopters, the military, and the soul of America) that are owned by the People of the United States of America.  Trumpee, you don’t have to go home to Mar-a-Lago, but you can’t stay here.

Cartoon used by permission: 245762_RGB_1290.jpg Mine ALL Mine by Bill Day Tallahassee FL

YOU ARE BEING ASKED TO LEAVE FOR THE FOLLOWING REASON:

A failure to function as a proper president as specified in the Constitution, and as dictated by common sense, tradition, and godly principles.  When you moved into the White House, you had ONE JOB—AND ONE JOB ONLY:  Be presidential.  But you were not.  You neglected the most basic of duties (engaged in golf most of the time, traded conspiracy theories and lies with Fox News hosts, and played footsie with your best pal Putin). Consequently, “rats” were allowed to run amok through the corridors of the People’s House and across the land causing all sorts of damage that may take years to repair. It’s as if your primary motive was to huff and puff and blow the People’s house down if you couldn’t have your own way or make yourself a king forever and ever.

Cartoon used by permission:  246065_RGB_1290.png Light White House Fuse by Ed Wexler CagleCartoons com

You are hereby notified of your right to exit stage left without a public eviction notice, if you want to save face.  All you have to do is concede the election to President-elect Joe Biden, gracefully welcome the Biden/Harris presidency to the White House, and promise to disappear into the sunset on January 20th without another peep or sound from you.  You don’t even have to attend the Inauguration.  In fact, the people who elected Joe Biden prefer you don’t.

Cartoon used by permission: 245940_RGB_1290.png Trump 2020 Snow Globe by Ed Wexler CagleCartoons com

On the other hand, should you insist on not conceding, your landlords (all 80,962,077 of the American electorate) will gladly toss your sorry-ass out on the grass on January 20th.  They are fully aware that the Emperor has no clothes and charge you with willful ignorance, lack of integrity, creating an atmosphere of violence and treason, murdering hundreds of thousands of people due to negligence and mismanagement of the COVID-19 pandemic, and eroding trust in our government with the issuing of 20,000 lies and more (The People stopped counting your lies in October—it became too disheartening). In fact, immediately upon your vacating the premises, we are bringing in a top-notch exterminator.

Cartoon used by permission:  245574_RGB_1290.jpg The Exorcist by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

DONALD J. TRUMP, YOU ARE BEING ASKED TO LEAVE THE PREMISES OF THE WHITE HOUSE ON JANUARY 20, 2020 IN TIME ENOUGH FOR JOE BIDEN TO BECOME OUR 46TH PRESIDENT.  IF YOU DO NOT LEAVE, AN EVICTION ACTION WILL BE INITIATED AGAINST YOU BY THE SECRET SERVICE.  IF YOU ARE IN DOUBT REGARDING YOUR LEGAL RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS AS A TENANT IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOU CONSULT THE U.S. CONSTITUTION.

NOW GET OUT!!!

Yours in total disgust and disrespect,

80,962,077 of the American electorate

On behalf of the new inhabitant of the White House—

Joe Biden, 46th President of the United States

Cartoon used by permission:  245520_RGB_1290.jpg Inauguration Day 2021 by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission:  246089_RGB_1290.png Second Terminator by Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune MN

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on December 2, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION (a Halloween tale of horror)

(Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore’s “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” for the butchering and ham-handedness of his iconic poem)

Cartoon used by permission: 244465_RGB_1290.jpg Halloween 2020 by Rick McKee CagleCartoonscom

‘Twas the night before the Presidential election, when all through the land,

Not a godly person was sleeping—not a child, woman, or man.

A landslide of votes had been cast for Joe Biden with care,

But folks were nervous that come the new day,

The Trump nightmare would still be there.

Cartoon used by permission: 243693_RGB_1290.png Axing Norms by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

The Democrats were anxious as they snuggled in their beds,

While visions of a Biden win and Senate take-over danced in their heads.

And Pelosi in her Covid mask, and me in mine too,

Had finally calmed our hearts when we heard a loud “BOO!”

Cartoon used by permission: 244669_RGB_1290.jpg  Running mate by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

I wondered in my grogginess, what could be the disaster,

But soon spied a giant Covid spector and his Trump-like master.

Down to my knees I dropped like a flash,

Looked up to the heavens, and screamed: “Lawd Jesus, save po’ America’s ass”!

Cartoon used by permission: 244879_RGB_1290.png Donald Trump Undertakes the Pandemic by Dale Cummings Canada PoliticalCartoons com

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Illuminated the pumpkin-looking man with the Covid-orange glow.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

Trump’s idols, his lackies, and demons of fear.

More rapid than eagles, his flying gargoyles they came,

As he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

“Now Putin! Now Giuliani!

Now Lindsey and Fox News!

Come Hannity, and McConnell,

Come Repubs, and Laura Ingraham too.

“Back into the belly of the Oval Office!

And into the cowardly hearts of the Senate.

Y’all come visit—stay—for 2021 until forever,

‘Cause this Christian-idol mofo is guaranteed to win it!”

Cartoon used by permission: 244350_RGB_1290.png Happy Halloween 2020 by Bart van Leeuwen PoliticalCartoons com

But then in my nightmare, I heard on the roof

A stampede of angelic sandal-clad hoofs.

I ran to the window as thousands flew down

And trampled scary Trump

Into the Halloween ground.

They were led by Archangel Michael—

that champion from stories back in the day

His glorious Halloween costume was

Like a fashionable gay dude from the 1600’s, I’d say.

“Don’t let my outfit fool you,”

he said with a beatific grin.

“No evil is a match for me,

given my sword, wings and fabulous glam trim.”

Archangel Michael by Luca Giordano (1660 – 1665) – The Fall of the Rebel Angels/Public Domain

He spoke a few more words before vanquishing Trump:

“BE NOT AFRAID! The Orange one and his ghouls are a goner.

Tell all your frightened Dem friends

To have hope—Angels’ honor.”

Cartoon used by permission: 244862_RGB_1290.png Election Run by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT


Michael spoke not another word, and went back to his work,

Skewered all of Trump’s demon-pals, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose.

And giving a nod, up to the sky he arose.

His Arch-Angelness hung overhead, and to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew up like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he flew out of sight:

“2020 will not be like 2016!”

“Now calm your faint hearts and have a restful good night!”

Cartoon used by permission: 244884_RGB_1290.png You Are Fired by Marian Kamensky Austria

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 244926_RGB_1290.png Zombie Trump by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on October 28, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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I’M IN LOVE WITH A NASTY, ANGRY, HORRIBLE, DISRESPECTFUL MADWOMAN

Cartoon used by permission: 242362_RGB_1290.png Running mate Harris by Bart van Leeuwen PoliticalCartoons com

“We need more than a victory on November 3rd, we need a mandate that proves that the past three years do not represent who we are or who we aspire to be.”—Kamala Harris, The Future VP of the United States

Needless to say, I am in love!  I didn’t think it was going to matter to me which qualified woman Vice President Biden picked to be his running mate until he picked Kamala Harris.  Granted it was the unveiling of an historical moment, which caused even my very White husband to choke up with tears at the possibilities, but it was also the power and hope I felt rising up in me, my daughters, and my friends as Kamala spoke when she accepted the call to action from Joe Biden. The power with which she so excellently and urgently prosecuted the zeitgeist of corruption, racism, and death against Donald Trump that he has unleashed into the lives of the people in the United States made me stand up and shout “hallelujah!”  As she declared, “The case against Donald Trump and Mike Pence is open and shut,” for the first time I could see a future without Trump, and I felt sure Vice President Kamala Harris was going to help get us there. Maybe even become our first woman president.

I tried to imagine how this chapter of America’s story might be told to our children in 100 years.  I wondered what kind of children’s books would be written about Kamala as future generations looked back on the dystopian country that “nasty” women like her helped save from the very brink of destruction.

A 2120 CHILDREN’S BOOK FOR VERY, VERY SMART CHILDREN

THE MARVELOUS, FANTASTIC, NASTY, ANGRY, HORRIBLE, DISRESPECTFUL, MADWOMEN WHO DESTROYED A LYING KING AND SAVED A KINGDOM by E. Tomczyk

Once upon a time, in a nation that existed a hundred years ago, there lived a people of many ethnicities and races.  It was a vast land that had often see-sawed from murderously grotesque (a misshapen monster of its actual self) to outrageously sublime (the best it could be) in trying to fulfill its pledge of “…one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” 

After hundreds of years of fits and starts after it was born, the majority of the people enthusiastically elected a chocolate leader who seemed to embody the promise and the hope of that great land. Unfortunately, a significant part of the vanilla people who existed within the kingdom and who considered themselves to be the most righteous and loved by God were very, very angry and plotted to make him a one-term leader. They could not see beyond his race and ethnicity and worked night and day to try to destroy him. But no matter what his enemies did, the chocolate leader was greatly loved, admired, and adored by many and led the nation to a better place for eight years.

But as in far too many stories about humans, an evil being arose on the horizon and captured the hearts and imaginations of a majority of the vanilla people (including a few of the chocolate people—I’m not going to lie), and let them establish him as King. He was a bright orange color (similar to a Cheeto), and he came to be known as “The Lying Toddler King.”

Immediately, The Lying Toddler King got on most people’s nerves—worldwide.  He was crude and rude, and he lied when telling the truth would have been so much easier.  Lying was his modus operandi.  There are those who say he averaged 30 lies a day.  Because he had never progressed beyond toddlerhood, he didn’t read, he refused to share, and he demanded to have his own way all the time.

If more knowledgeable adults and court advisors tried to correct The Lying Toddler King, he would shoot nasty words of 280 characters at them and make them very, very afraid.  Most of them would tremble in terror.  Whenever the Lying Toddler King threw nasty blue birds at them, reputations would be shot down, jobs would be lost, and the wounded recipients would crawl back home and hide under their beds. Once Toddler King actually hurled 200 tweets at his kingdom peeps in one day!

“Why in the ‘cuss word’* do you treat the peeps so badly?” a couple of The Lying Toddler King’s sycophants asked at the beginning of his reign.  “Can’t you see that many of them love you; we just don’t think you should say racist, misogynist, perverse things to your subjects or they will become disappointed and vote you out of your toddler kingdom.  Best to keep those things inside your tiny little head or you will scare people.”

“NO! NO! NOOOOO!  I do what I want, you ‘cuss word’ lapdogs.  Don’t you know that my people are so loyal that I can shoot anyone on 5th Avenue and no one would stop me?” boasted The Lying Toddler King.

Three years went by and The Lying Toddler King ruled with impunity (that means he never got put in a “time-out” corner for anything he did that was bad, boys and girls).  But a lot of bad things began to happen on his watch.  Sickness and death.  Injustice and brutality.  Murder and mayhem.  Racism and cruelty.  Destruction and pollution. It got so bad that chocolate and vanilla people joined together to remove the bad king. The women—especially the chocolate ones—had had enough! They picked a grownup vanilla man by the name of Joe Biden who, in turn, picked a chocolate running mate by the name of Kamala Devi Harris to fight The Lying Toddler King and his sycophantic side-kick whose name was Mike Pence (also a man-baby of the pasty white variety).

Kamala Devi—isn’t that an unusual name, boys and girls?  It literally means: “Lotus—goddess of prosperity, good luck, and beauty, which manifests as protective womanhood that is fierce—strong enough to create new worlds but able to destroy those worlds…”  Kamala was the first African-American, Asian-American woman on a major-party presidential ticket in the vast land of our story.  Her mother was born in India and her father was born in Jamaica.  They immigrated to America and Kamala was born in that great land.

Go figurean immigrant and a chocolate woman as well!  This was the Lying Toddler King’s worst nightmare. He immediately became frightened and confused. It was well known that his kryptonite was strong women—especially strong chocolate women.  He sensed that they had the power to eat his lunch. The Lying Toddler King had a giant hissy-fit and pulled a bunch of mean and racist building blocks out of his toy chest to throw at Kamala. “She’s such a nasty woman, I tell you.  NASTY, NASTY, NASTY!” wailed The Lying Toddler King.  “She’s angry and horrible!  I think she’s a madwoman. Did you see how disrespectful she was to Sleepy Joe?  I’m surprised he even picked her as a play-date buddy.  Besides, I heard she doesn’t even belong here among our vanilla people, and the rules forbid her to be one of its leaders.  I heard her parents were born in ‘cuss word’-hole countries.  Somebody better check that out!  Where the ‘cuss word’ is my nukkie?”

The more the Lying Toddler King screamed and yelled, the more women of both chocolate and vanilla colors came together to declare their allegiance to the Biden/Kamala team because for the first time in years, they could see a better world ahead.  Eighty-year-old vanilla women were sending emails to seventy-year-old chocolate women that read: “I’d almost lost hope until I heard Joe Biden picked Kamala Harris as his running mate.  We just might survive, after all!”  Grown chocolate and vanilla men who didn’t fear strong women were high-fiving each other. Chocolate little and big girls burst into tears because for the first time they saw someone who looked like them who was prepared to help bring down The Lying Toddler King and potentially break the most powerful glass ceiling in the land. They made T-shirts that declared: I’M A NASTY, ANGRY, HORRIBLE, DISRESPECTFUL MADWOMAN!  HEAR ME ROAR, MOTHER “CUSS WORD”! The more these women roared, the more The Lying Toddler King became frightened and unglued.  They became known as the NAHDMs throughout the land, and no matter how much The Lying Toddler King tried to cheat, steal, or destroy the election, in the end all the NAHDM women—chocolate and vanilla—stood united and they crushed him and removed him from the throne!

The citizens of that great nation learned their lesson and never elected a baby king to lead them again.  You’ll have to read the sequel to find out whether or not they ever reached their ancestors’ vision to be an ethical and just nation, thus leaving their children a better world.  In the meantime, the moral of this story, boys and girls, is never, ever underestimate a woman—especially a chocolate one.  THE END

(*The use of the word “cuss” instead of actual swear words is a shameless rip-off from the director Wes Anderson, who used this brilliant mode of communication for his animated characters when filming the children’s book “Fantastic Mr. Fox” by Roald Dahl.)

Cartoon used by permission: 242301_RGB_1290.jpg Trump Reacts To Kamala by Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on August 16, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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ARE YOU YOUR BROTHER’S KEEPER—YOU BET YOUR SORRY ASS, YOU ARE!

Cartoon used by permission: Mask mandate by Bruce Plante, Tulsa World

My pandemic body and mind are messing with my dreams.  In most of my dreams, I’m trying to escape from a frighteningly amorphous “unidentifiable something,” but at other times I have alternate-world movie-dreams that are crystal clear in which I wish would come true (like I’m 30 years old, look like Halle Berry, have the voice of Audra McDonald, and can eat anything I want).  I think these dreams or nightmares have a lot to do with the news I’ve consumed during the day mixed with what I’ve eaten for dinner and how soon I fall asleep after said consumption.

Last night I made the most amazing Keto lasagna sans pasta with extra, extra cheese (keep in mind that I’m lactose intolerant), hot Italian sausage, eggplant slices, and the perfect marinara sauce.  It was the kind of ooey-gooey pleasure that you just know will create demons of indigestion exploding from your butt at the pitch and rhythm of Army taps while setting your esophagus on fire straight up from your tummy to your hair follicles, as visions of cheese balls dance in your head.

I went to bed much too early following my sumptuous repast, but a massive thunderstorm (keep in mind that I am deathly afraid of thunderstorms) settled over my house and rather than pace the floor in terror like a traumatized puppy, I plugged in my sound machine and my iPod featuring endless Barbra Streisand songs, and promptly fell asleep. So it was that I dreamt of a land where the MAGA Christians suddenly woke up as if from a nightmare and all simultaneously burned their red hats in massive bonfires across the land in exchange for bracelets that bore the initials WWJD: What Would Jesus Do?

Cartoon used by permission: 240874  Masks a miracle cure by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com

“Ooh, ooh, ooh, I know,” said one very White Evangelical Christian. “Jesus would wear a mask during these times, even as he preached, and be a leader who set an example of the right thing to do for the good of all the people. After all, it was Jesus who said: ‘The second most important command is this: Love your neighbor the same as you love yourself.’”

Another White Evangelical WWJD bracelet wearer chimed in with a Bible verse of love that she seemed to have learned long ago but had forgotten until her head was set free from the tyranny of the MAGA hat—”I am positive that Jesus would wear a mask at all times and encourage all his followers to do so because he said: ‘I can guarantee this truth: Whatever you did for one of my brothers or sisters, no matter how unimportant they seemed, you did for me.'”

“Jiminy-Crickets, why don’t we show America how it should be done?” said a White Evangelical grandma.  “Sugar, we should all wear masks to protect our fellow human beings—our neighbors—our countrymen because wasn’t it Jesus who said: ‘So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.’”

The dream was so sweet and hopeful. Just when I was feeling all kumbaya in my alternate world, a thunder clap woke me at 3:00 a.m. and slammed me back into the real world. It sounded as if the Earth split in half.  Unable to get back to my happy place dream, I got out of bed, made myself a cup of tea, and checked the news feed on my phone:

“The one area where white evangelicals fall far behind? Mask wearing. A white evangelical under the age of 35 is 13 percentage points less likely to wear a mask in public than the same age group in the general population (58.7% vs. 71.8%).”—Christianity Today.

“…in America, not wearing a mask has become a political statement — and it’s a statement increasingly being made by avowedly devout Christians.”—Anthea Butler/Think

Cartoon used by permission: 241088 Maskless Bob by Monte Wolverton Battle Ground WA

Unable to go back to sleep, I googled what MAGA folks (80% of them Evangelical Christians) were doing to save the most vulnerable among us. Maybe my dream was prophetic.  Maybe they would ignore their toddler king and do the right thing—once and for all.  But what I found of their reported actions was not WWJD but WWSD: What Would Satan Do?

“I got every fuckin’ right to not wear a mask,” said a Costco customer who was asked to leave the store for not obeying their rule of “no entry without a face mask.”

Security guard (father of eight) at a Michigan Dollar Store was killed after he asked a woman to leave the store for not wearing a mask.  She left and then returned with her husband and her son and shot him dead.

Old man in a Dollar Store rubbed his snotty nose and rheumy face on the shirt of a store employee just for spite after she asked him to put on a face mask.

The Utah County Commission postponed a meeting on masks after scores of protesters packed the room—wall to wall—without wearing masks as a massive human “FU” to the commission’s mere discussion of wearing masks to protect their neighbors (isn’t this Mormon country?).

A female clerk was punched in the face three times when she told a male customer she couldn’t sell him cigarettes unless he put on a mask.

Georgia governor (anti-mask Trump sycophant) started a mask war against Atlanta’s mayor (pro-mask wearing Covid-19 survivor) by suing the mayor and the city council when the mayor requested all citizens of Atlanta wear masks to protect their family, friends, and neighbors.

Cartoon used by permission: 239371 Face Masks by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

“What a world!  What a world! What a world!” I groaned.  Before I knew it, the sun had risen and my husband strolled into the kitchen for breakfast.  After kissing me good morning, he asked, “So how’s your ass?”

“What? How’s my ass? That’s a weird question,” I replied. 

“No, it isn’t.  I’ve been awake since 3:00 a.m. because you let off the loudest fart I’ve ever heard.  Not only was it loud but it seemed endless. (Don’t even get me started on the smell.)  In fact, I didn’t know that such a powerful sound could come out of a human being’s butt. Isn’t your a-hole in excruciating pain? I am amazed you’re able to sit on your bottom.”

“That was not a fart at 3:00 a.m., that was a massive thunder clap from the heavens,” I said.

“It was a massive thunder clap all right—straight out of your ass. It woke me up.  I half expected to look up and see you floating at the top of the bedroom ceiling.  If that had been the case, I have no idea how I would have gotten you down.  You know it was that double-cheese, veggie Keto lasagna, in case anyone is in doubt, Ms. Lactose-intolerant Lady.  So for the sake of your ass and your fellow-man (a.k.a. your husband), you might want to put that recipe on the trash heap marked: ‘The end of ET’s love affair with cheese.’  After all, what did Jesus say: ‘So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them…’  Time to give up the cheese, Babe!”

Cartoon used by permission: 240662 The End Is Near by Rick McKee CagleCartoons com

“At long last, we have made a truly game-changing scientific breakthrough in preventing the spread of COVID-19.  We have found a disease-control tool that, when used properly, can reduce transmission by somewhere between 50% and 85%.  The tool is cheap and remarkably low-tech.  You can even make one at home.” —The Power of Masks by Gavin Yamey/Time magazine

Cartoon used by permission: 239295 Mask Hamlet by Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune MN

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on July 25, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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THANKSGIVING DÉTENTE GUIDELINES IN THE AGE OF TRUMP AND IMPEACHMENT

Cartoon used by permission: 231883 Thanksgiving food fight by John Darkow, Columbia Missourian

I hate to say this folks (and I sure hope I’m wrong), but I’m pretty convinced that this Thanksgiving is the calm before the storm—the last big non-religious, national family feast day—before the outbreak of the civil war next November between the MAGA nation and the Americans who value truth.  According to AAA, 55 million of us will be traveling to visit family and friends for the Thanksgiving holiday.  That’s a whole lot of turkey eating and at least a solid chance for 90% of us to strangle, stab, shoot, pummel, or disinherit at least one or two very close relatives.  (That murder rate drops significantly if one belongs to a family of clones who think alike, look alike, vote alike, dress alike, and basically don’t say more than two words to each other the entire Thanksgiving meal.)  You and I are not one of them.  We know we’re headed for a civil war, put in motion by a mad king, and we think this may be the last family gathering where we can knock some sense into our Fox News watching, Donald Trump loving, science denying family.  May I make a suggestion?  Let’s call a détente (the easing of hostility or strained relations) until Monday, December 2nd.  Let’s pretend that we are one big happy national family, and our biggest problem is that we forgot to pack our stretchy pants with the elastic waistband.

Cartoon used by permission: 232153 Thanksgiving Jeopardy with Relatives by Dave Whamond Canada, PoliticalCartoon.com

THANKSGIVING DÉTENTE GUIDELINES

#1.  To make this détente function at its best, we will have to establish some ground rules, of course.  First of all, if you are hosting, it would be best to warn your guests in advance that your home will be a politic-free zone.  Those who can’t adhere to this rule need to know that the penalty will be immediate banishment.  (Even if you are all of the same political persuasion, talk about art, love, travel—anything but Trump…our hearts and minds need a freakin’ break from the Mad King.)

Thanksgiving warning, welcome to the family feast, cut out, political discussion
Cartoon used by permission: 232315 Thanksgiving Warning by Bruce Plante Tulsa World

#2. Send out homework before Thanksgiving Day to make sure your family and friends know what is at stake for their souls and the survival of your family unit if they break the détente and slip into political rancor with your T-Day guests.  Close family quarters, alcohol, turkey carving knives, and guns (would suggest you tell your guests that your home will be a gun-free zone) are a recipe for disaster when political arguments start to go down in the age of Trump.  Given the state of the scary craziness Trump has driven our nation to, it is best to know what types of family murders can occur if a mention of him and/or his antics are allowed under the Thanksgiving détente tent and tempers are not kept in check (have your guests memorize them before arrival):

Cartoon used by permission: 218351 Let’s Talk Turkey .PLEASE. by Jeff Koterba, Omaha World Herald NE

THIS IS WHAT IS AT STAKE SHOULD POLITICS HOLD SWAY ON T-DAY AT OUR FAMILY GATHERINGS (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER):

Mariticide = the act of killing one’s husband or romantic partner

Patricide = the act of killing one’s father

Fratricide = the act of killing one’s brother

Sororicide = the act of killing one’s sister

Uxoricide = the act of killing one’s wife

Avunculicide = the act of killing one’s uncle

Matricide = the act of killing one’s mother

Nepoticide = the act of killing one’s nephew

Amicicide = the act of killing a friend

Vaticide = the act of killing a prophet (you never know when one of these may drop by)

Blockacide = the act of killing a Facebook friend connection

At the bottom of the pre-celebration homework page, I suggest the following quote by George Bernard Shaw be listed as a pre-dinner meditation:  “The moment we want to believe something, we suddenly see all the arguments for it, and become blind to the arguments against it.” 

Cartoon used by permission: 232294 Turkey Day by Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune MN

#3.  Upon arrival for T-Day celebration, I suggest the host or hostess prominently display a sign at the front door that says: “Abandon all cell phones, MAGA hats, Pink Pussy hats, and political T-shirts here, and park all egos out back by the garbage cans.  Only humility and grace need enter.”

Cartoon used by permission: 232308 Choosing Sides at the Holidays by Jeff Koterba Omaha World Herald NE

#4.  Consider providing party favors in the form of colorful elastic snap bands with James 1:19 inscribed upon them: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger.”  Guests should be encouraged to utilize the bands whenever they feel like pummeling one of their family members by “snapping” the bands against their wrists to bring them back to their senses should they start to jeopardize the Thanksgiving détente. Finally, if you have really, really hard-headed friends and relatives, you might need to bring out the big guns with a very blatant banner draped above the dining area to help keep everyone focused:  KINDNESS AND COURTEOUSNESS TO ONE ANOTHER ARE NOT SIGNS OF WEAKNESS!

Cartoon used by permission: 218364 Thanksgiving and politics by Bruce Plante Tulsa World

I know it sounds like a bit of a cliché, but having everyone who is present say one thing they are grateful for in their own lives and about each family member to their left and right might just keep the détente going after Thanksgiving and prevent a civil war that is fast approaching on the heels of the presidential election in 2020.  After all, long after the spell that President Cheeto has cast upon our nation has been broken, and Trump is gone and forgotten, we’ll still need the love and strength of our families to pick up the pieces and rebuild a nation.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, MY PEEPS! MAY IT BE FULL OF LOVE, LAUGHTER, JOY, AND GRACE!

ENJOY MY FAVORITE VINTAGE THANKSGIVING CARTOON BY CARTOONIST RICK MCKEE

Cartoon used by permission: 140746 Thanksgiving 2013 COLOR by Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival:  “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 232313 Chosen One by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on November 27, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

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ELECTION COLORS ABOUND: PINK PUSSY HATS TURN VIRGINIA BLUE AND KICK THE CONFEDERACY RED OUT OF VIRGINIA’S BED

Cartoon used by permission: 231610 Republican Fall by Christopher Weyant,The Boston Globe MA 

CHEETO-WATCH TIMES DISPATCH (Tomczyk Satirical Report)—Snapshots of multitudinous celebrations were noted in the various local nationwide Democratic Party Headquarters after the recent election results. There were none more riotous than in Virginia and Kentucky because turning Virginia Blue—winning full control of the legislature—for the first time in a generation, and Kentucky electing a Dem for Governor were major repudiations of Donald Trump. Pink Pussy Hats donned pants suits and doused each other in pink champagne across the nation while they partied until the cows came home over the headway Dems had made.

Cartoon used by permission: 231591 Virginia Election by Bill Day Tallahassee FL

“Virginia is ruined!” cried a White female Republican voter from Richmond, Virginia.  “Those damn liberal women in the Northern burbs have destroyed our heritage,” screamed a White Republican male voter from Toano, Virginia on the 6:00 News.  “Now those god-damn feminists will be the reason the Virginia State government will be able to take down our Confederate statues, bury the Lost Cause, take away our guns, make Virginia the state that ratifies that f’ing Equal Rights Amendment, and be why Trump gets dumped, god-damnit!” 

White House sources say President Trump had a full-on panic attack after the election results, and even Trump’s spiritual adviser (Pastor Paula White who is now part of the White House staff) couldn’t calm him down.  The best she could do was to try and conjure up God’s wrath on the Pink Pussy Hat feminists. However, to this reporter’s knowledge, not one Pussy Hat feminist had been struck by lightning from God yet, causing some to suspect that Jesus might be a member of Pantsuit Nation and Paula White might be a false prophet.

Google Image Meme/Paula White

This reporter did stumble upon some coffee chats and a Democratic prayer group who weren’t letting the election victories in Virginia and Kentucky go to their heads.  At the local coffee shop the suburban moms’ moods were somber and their tones were hushed as they spoke of the future that would affect their children.

One of the mothers was particularly vocal about her fears.  “According to a recent poll, we are some of the 67% of Democrats who are extremely anxious about the future,” said Sally Morrison.  “We think that in spite of these recent electoral victories, that asshole (excuse my French) is going to win a second term,” declared Sally’s long-time friend, Miriam Wallis.

“Did you read the headline of the Independent?” said Maxine Gilman.  “It said, ‘Trump on course to win in 2020, according to polling models that have only been wrong once,’” sobbed Maxine.  “What good will it do,” she cried, “if we win the battles but not the war?” 

“TURN OUT THE VOTE IN 2020!” chanted Diane Smith.  “We have to flood the polls next year as if our children’s lives depended on it—which they do.  If we have to, we need to wake the dead and carry them to the polls on our backs,” said Ms. Smith.  “Other than that, I’m banking on getting Trump’s ass impeached.”

“Girl, don’t you realize the House of Reps can impeach Trump’s sorry behind and the gonad-challenged Senate Republicans won’t rule on it.  It doesn’t matter what President Cheeto does, the Senate will never find his actions impeachable,” said Sally Morrison.  “He’s absolutely deplorable—the entire world knows it and the Repubs know it, too!”

Cartoon used by permission: 231650 Misdemeanors by Milt Priggee Oak Harbor WA

This reporter stopped by the African-American First Saints A.M.E church in Louisville to interview some of the parishioners after Wednesday night Bible study.  Mr. and Mrs. Archie Stapleton were quick to chime in about the election results.  “I couldn’t be happier about the way Trump got handed his ass in the Kentucky and Virginia races,” said Mr. Stapleton.  “I was born and raised in Kentucky and Bevin had pissed off most folks here except the so called pro-lifers.  He thought if he declared himself a ‘Christian,’ waved the pro-life flag, and turned himself into a Trump mini-me, he could treat people as if they was dirt—especially our teachers.  Well, the teachers schooled him.  There you have it (so-called Christian), ex-Governor Bevin—don’t let the Devil’s tail smack you upside your head when you walk into Hell, I say!”

Cartoon used by permission: 231668 Canary in a Kentucky coal mine by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

“Now Archie, that ain’t no way to talk standin’ inside the Lawd’s house,” said Mary Stapleton.  “I’m excited about the victories, but I’m a bit nervous about the Black vote bein’ syphoned off.  Did you read how Trump went down to Atlanta and launched some Black voter initiative talkin’ about, ‘What have you got to lose votin’ for me?’  Well, I tell you what Black folks got to lose:  our souls!  Yes, indeed, sweet Jesus.”

Sister Cynthia, the church’s head deaconess, had been listening to the conversation and shaking her head in agreement.  “To tell you the truth, I’m real concerned about our babies.  Us old folks know in our bones that Biden is the only one who can beat Trump, but the younger generation ain’t got nothin’ to do with him.  My thirty-year-old daughter called me the other day to summarily let me know that she and her generation was not feelin’ Joe Biden. She ask me, what did Biden ever do except be Obama’s wing man?  So, I said, ain’t that enough? (Thinkin’ to myself, I ain’t never seen no White man play second fiddle to a Black man in all my born days until Barack became president, so that has to amount to somethin’.)  Then my daughter said, she didn’t mean no disrespect, but we old folks are leavin’ them a pretty messed up world, and her generation wasn’t fixin’ to elect an ol’ man with old ideas who’d probably die on his way to his old-fashioned inauguration day.  (Y’all know that chil’ of mine always did have a mouth on her.)”

“Well, yo’ chil’ may be onto somethin’, Sister Cynthia,” said Archie Stapleton.  Biden’s just not doin’ well…I knew when his answer to improving the lives of Black children was for them to listen to the record player at night, and he messed up his text number with his email address, or some such mess, that my children were gonna tune him right out.  Now he’s in fourth place lookin’ like he’s got one foot in the grave and Warren is beatin’ him like a drum!  I’ll still vote for him, but the children have got a point, Sister Cynthia.”

One of the other parishioners passing by the group mumbled that it was going to be a long, long year until November 2020, and if we were all lucky maybe Jesus would come back before then and put us out of our misery. 

In this reporter’s humble opinion, maybe we ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

Cartoon used by permission: 231681 Bloomberg enters 2020 race by Dave Granlund PoliticalCartoons com

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival:  “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 231417 Trump’s legacy by Patrick Chappatte globecartoon com

REFERENCES

https://www.washingtonpost.com/outlook/2019/11/06/bright-blue-virginia-leaves-confederacy-behind/

https://www.salon.com/2019/11/07/dont-get-complacent-trump-is-likely-to-win-again-unless-we-fight-for-democracy/

https://www.salon.com/2019/11/06/phyllis-schlaflys-dead-but-the-equal-rights-amendment-may-come-back-to-life/

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-election/trump-2020-presidential-election-favourite-odds-polling-moodys-analytics-a9159496.html

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on November 8, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

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TRUMP’S MANDATE FROM HEAVEN

Cartoon used by permission: 230565_600 Rick McKee CagleCartoons com

(Satire from the desk of E. Tomczyk)

HEAVEN (Other Worldly Times-Tribune)—yesterday, an editorial in the Courts of the King Gazette took much of the Universe by surprise.  The editorial—believed to be penned by God himself—was a confession from God that he did, indeed, allow Pat Robertson to be deluded by the thought that The Donald had a “mandate from heaven” to be President of the United States as was declared by the “good” Reverend the other day on the Christian Broadcasting Network:

“I believe … the president of the United States is in danger of losing the mandate of heaven if he permits this (the withdrawal of US troops embedded with the Turks) to happen…“The president, who allowed Khashoggi to be cut into pieces without any repercussions whatsoever, is now allowing the Christians and the Kurds to be massacred by the Turks…”

HOWEVER, according to unnamed sources in the King’s court, it seems God’s definition of a “mandate of heaven” does not mean the same thing as the false prophet Robertson thinks it means.  Consequently, I’ve been told by sources close to him that the God of Heaven is pissed that Robertson has put words in his mouth—yet again.

Internet Meme: Creator unknown

St. Peter, Heaven’s Gate Keeper, was most happy to set the record straight about the origin of the phrase “Mandate from Heaven.”

“The Mandate of Heaven, also known as ‘Tianming,’ is a Chinese philosophy from the era of 481/403 BCE – 221 BCE,” said St. Peter.  “Mark Cartright from The Ancient History Encyclopedia describes Tianming to be:

‘The ancient god or divine force known as Heaven or Sky had selected this particular individual to rule on its behalf on earth. An important element of the mandate was that although the ruler had been given great power he also had a moral obligation to use it for the good of his people, if he did not then his state would suffer terrible disasters and he would lose the right to govern.’  

“It has been co-opted by the likes of Robertson to underscore their prejudicial political crowning of various White male politicians,” said St. Peter.  “It did not escape Heaven’s gaze when one of our favorite sons, Barack Obama, became President of the United States and Mr. Robertson and every White Right-wing Conservative minister withheld said title from him,” remarked St. Peter.  “They called him everything but a child of God and would have deemed it blasphemy to ‘anoint’ him with the so-called ‘mandate of heaven.’  And I very much doubt that the title will be applied to any of the women running for President or our delightful Mayor Pete.”

Cartoon used by permission: 229007_600 Adam Zyglis The Buffalo News NY

“There are those who believe a joke has been played on Rev. Robertson, but he is not in on it,” said an unnamed source who has direct access to God.  “There is a ‘mandate of heaven’ on The Donald all right, but his mandate (unbeknownst to him or Robertson and his ilk) is not so he’ll be a great leader or win the Nobel Peace Prize as he thinks. Trump’s mandate is to carry on in his true unrepentant nature so that he crashes and burns and brings down the Right-wing Evangelical churches and groups with him who so stubbornly support a diabolical creature in the name of God in the quest for their own lust of power and greed. Trump is a Trojan horse, so to speak, and by the time he finishes as the wrecking ball he is wont to be (pardon the mixed metaphors), hopefully enough of his Evangelical supporters’ eyes will be opened to the truth to course-correct that wing of Christendom or it will be thrown out onto the trash heap of history.”

Cartoon used by permission: 224200_600 Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

Another source from the inner circle, who also asked not to be named, said that she believes “God wants to expose the duplicity and hypocrisy in the Christian church in such a revelatory way that he has purposely given the Right-wing Christian leaders enough blind self-righteous rope to hang themselves.” By the time they realize how far they’ve gone out on the gangplank for Trump (once again, pardon the mixed metaphors!), the Church as they know it to be will have no moral authority left in the land and will have to start from scratch emulating the character of Christ if they want to have any credibility. When I asked my unnamed source if she thought the destruction of the Right-wing Evangelical Church was a bit harsh, she replied:  “Not in the least.  Everybody talking about Heaven ain’t goin’ there, as the old gospel song says.  Better they find out here that they royally screwed up rather than on their death beds.  Waking up (before it is too late) to discover that you’ve placed the mandate of heaven on a demon from Hell and you can’t do anything about it would be…well—hell.”

Cartoon used by permission: 228948_600 Milt Priggee Oak Harbor WA

Yesterday, the Other Worldly Times-Tribune received a photo of a wanted poster in an unmarked envelope.  The caption under the photo said, “A special place in Hell awaits this dude once he has finished his journey on Earth.  If you have any incriminating evidence on one Donald J. Trump (masquerading as the President of the United States), please contact 1-666-GOTOHELL.”

WANTED IN HELL:  DONALD J. TRUMP

Calls himself “The Chosen One” and according to Pat Robertson has the Mandate from Heaven on his life. He is over six-feet tall and morbidly obese.  Trump is believed to be mentally ill and is armed with arrogance, and is considered dangerous.  He has been heard to boast that he could shoot someone on 5th Avenue and get away with it.  He’s just what the Devil is looking for.

KNOWN CHARACTERISTICS

Bragged about grabbing women by the kitty

Rabid adulterer

Lying (told 12,019 false or misleading claims over 928 days)

               Hubris (claims to have great and unmatched wisdom)

Lusting after his own daughter

Sold his soul for money, power, and fame years ago

Guilty of heartlessly wanting to stock moats with alligators and snakes at southern border

Guilty of ripping children from the parents of asylum seekers causing irreparable emotional damage

Guilty of wanting to shoot illegal immigrants in the legs

Betrayed the Kurds for Two Trump Towers in Istanbul

Turned a blind eye to the Kurds being massacred

Turned his back on climate change

Coddles White Supremacists

Sucks up to autocrats and demagogues

Boasts of shooting someone on 5th avenue and getting away with it

Cartoon used by permission: 230535_600 Dave Whamond Canada, PoliticalCartoons com

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Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival:  “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 228914_600 Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

REFERENCES

https://www.washingtonpost.com/religion/2019/10/08/trump-danger-losing-mandate-heaven-over-syria-decision-pat-robertson-warns/

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on October 10, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

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THE NATIONAL ANTHEM OF SEPTEMBER 11, 2001

I have been a part of more tragedies than I care to count—some small, some large—and the days on which they occurred all started out the same way:  normal and somewhat benign.

Eighteen years ago, I went to the dentist to get x-rays, a couple of fillings, and my teeth cleaned.  I hate all dentists and they don’t like me.  They hurt. I scream.  They tell me to open wide and not act like such a baby, and I frantically look for a sharp dental instrument to stab them in the face.  Which is why I always go to the dentist the first thing in the morning.  I try to make the visit as routine as possible in an effort to experience the situation as less of a personal tragedy and more of an ordinary event.

Ordinary may have birthed the sunrise of Tuesday, September 11, 2001, but a tragedy would eclipse it almost immediately.  By the time the dentist took x-rays and cleaned my teeth, the radio in the office, which usually played Smooth Jazz, would interrupt its programming to let us know that an airplane had hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center killing all 92 people on board and countless others in the building.  The North Tower would stand another 102 minutes and then collapse in on itself killing scores of other precious souls.  At first, we all thought it was an accident. No one in the dentist office could fathom that a national tragedy was unfolding on an ordinary day of fillings and teeth cleanings.

Cartoon used by permission: 229523_600 9 11 Milt Priggee, Oak Harbor, WA

I left the dentist office and arrived home in time enough to turn on CNN and see the second plane (United Flight #175) crash into the South Tower of the World Trade Center.  Within another thirty minutes American Airlines Flight #77 would crash into the western facade of the Pentagon in the region where I lived and in the city where my husband worked.

On ordinary days, landlines and cell phones usually work just fine.  But not on September 11, 2001 when you live near Washington, DC—neither cell nor landlines worked.  I don’t know if they were purposely jammed by the Feds (by that time, we all suspected these were terrorist attacks) or if the circuits were simply overloaded as loved ones tried to find each other.  I couldn’t locate my husband who worked in the city, and I could only locate one of my children.  By the time the hijackers purposely crashed United Flight #93 into a field in Stoneycreek Township near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, nobody I knew would ever think of September 11th as just an ordinary day.  I, along with the rest of the world, would later learn of the heroic men who tried to take out the terrorists on Flight 93 right before Vice President Dick Cheney planned to order our Air Force to shoot down the civilian plane since it was estimated that the plane was headed toward the White House or the Capital building.  Four coordinated terrorist attacks carried out by al-Qaeda would kill more than 3,000 people, injure over 6,000 and additionally cause cancer and respiratory diseases to the survivors and first responders for years to come.

Cartoon used by permission: 168695_600 Bob Englehart, PoliticalCartoons.com

I would finally find my husband, locate my kids, and help executives and co-workers in my company return to their families from various far-flung places in the country via coveted rental cars charging premium prices as people drove nonstop to get home just to hug their loved ones.  When the phones finally worked, I called everyone I knew in DC and in NYC to see if they knew of anyone who had perished on that horrendous day.  One of my children would carry the shared grief of a child in her class whose father was killed in the Pentagon.  Years later a mother I met would tearfully express the heavy relief of finally locating two of her grown daughters who worked in the Towers and commuted together.  They were late to work that infamous day because the “ordinary” had happened:  one of the sisters was late which delayed their arrival to their jobs.  They never entered the Towers, and a mother was spared an unimaginable loss.

Cartoon used by permission: 215459_600 Dave Granlund. PoliticalCartoons.com

But so many things are starting to fade—especially in the age of Donald Trump and the hatred and chaos he has stirred up.  One of the things I remember most after 9/11 happened is how one couldn’t find a United States flag to purchase—especially in NYC.  As soon as any store got a shipment of flags, they would be gobbled up by Americans who wanted to feel connected to each other under a common umbrella of unity—the American flag.  We had suffered a horrendous national tragedy, and we all began to sing a national anthem of loss, unity, courage, and brotherly love.

Cartoon used by permission: 92501_600 Taylor Jones, Hoover Digest

The leaders of New York City begged Americans to visit its post 9/11 ghost-town of a city to prove to the terrorists that they had not broken NYC.  We were encouraged to come back to Broadway and fill the vacant playhouses, eat in their restaurants, and pay our respect at Ground Zero. 

And that is what my husband and I did.  I didn’t have the courage to visit Ground Zero—not just yet, but I did take in a couple of Broadway shows, stayed in a fancy hotel in Manhattan, went shopping, and ate in several restaurants.  To a person, NYC had dropped its hard facade and everyone greeted us with exuberant hugs and thankful handshakes for coming back to the city they loved—everyone from bellboys to waiters to actors to cab drivers.  (I lived in NYC thirty years before 9/11, and I don’t think one person ever spoke to me unsolicited during the entire year I resided there, and I certainly never got any hugs.)  But during that time period in NYC after 9/11, every man, woman, and child seemed to count each other as kin because the blood of thousands of lost lives formed the tune of a shared mourning.  In fact, I’ll never forget walking back to our hotel in my bare feet from a Broadway show because my new shoes were killing me, and a stretch limo driver pulled over to the curb and asked if he could take us to where we needed to go—for free!

However, it’s been 18 years now, and I’ve lost that tangible brotherly love feeling that I had post 9/11.

Cartoon used by permission: 55203_600 Parker, Florida Today

Recently, when I first noticed that the song of unity learned from 9/11 was beginning to fade from my soul, I went back to NYC to visit—this time to pay my respects at Ground Zero. (No one hugged me this time, no free limo rides, and New York City had returned to its dismissive, pushy, irascible self as was expressed by the rudeness of the cab driver who got lost and didn’t give a shit.)  By the time I pushed and plodded my way through the crowds to Ground Zero, I didn’t have a shred of brotherly love left in me.  But as I visited the 9/11 museum and the two waterfalls that are the exact dimensions of the towers taking up the same footprint of the original towers, my heart began to break.  I barely survived the waterfalls with the names of the dead etched into the marble siding.  I did not survive the museum.  It’s a good thing they have tissues in most of the exhibit rooms because I needed every single one of them.  Hearing the voices of those who left phone messages to their loved ones right before they died, meditating on the exhibit of a mangled fire truck (Big Red, Ladder 3) from a station who lost their captain and ten of their team, listening to the voices of my fellow Americans speak about where they were when we were attacked, walking down seven stories of stairs next to the actual stairs where hundreds fled to safety, seeing the photos of my fellow citizens who jumped from the top floors rather than be burned alive…I remembered our national anthem of unity given to us by 9/11 because not once did I ask about their politics, their race, their ethnicity, their gender—I just held them to my heart as Americans—as humans worthy to be mourned and honored.

Photo by Cadiomals – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20045071

ALWAYS REMEMBER—NEVER FORGET!

Cartoon used by permission: 97899_600 John Cole, The Scranton Times-Tribune, PA

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WANT TO READ MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR’S LIFE AMONG WHITE CHRISTIAN CONSERVATIVES FOR 45+ YEARS AND THE INSIGHTS GAINED:  Check out “Fleeing Oz”—on sale now at Amazon!

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at http://www.eleanortomczyk.com

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Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
8 Comments

Posted by on September 10, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

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