Willie Loco Alexander, The Velvet Underground and Misfit

Nice article about the Velvet Underground courtesy of “The Daily Beast” My friend Willie Loco Alexander was a member of this group. Check him out on Wikipedia.

Photo Illustration by Sarah Rogers/The Daily Beast

GROUNDBREAKING

50 Years Later, ‘The Velvet Underground and Nico’ Still Sounds Like the Future

There has never been a rock album more ahead of its time than the Velvet Underground’s singular masterpiece, released 50 years ago this week.

Stereo Williams

Stereo Williams

03.12.17 3:48 AM ET

There is no argument against 1967 as an epochal year in music. Landmarks like Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Are You Experienced?, High Priestess of Soul, Disraeli Gears, I’ve Never Loved A Man the Way I Love You—it was the year that popular artists fully realized the creative potential of the LP and it happened as a generation was discovering its cultural voice. But the year’s boldest musical moment was an album that didn’t appeal to the same sensibilities as idyllic hippie anthems or strutting soul classics—and it wasn’t born of Haight-Asbury, acid freakouts or middling interpretations of Eastern philosophy.

That album was The Velvet Underground and Nico, a uniquely groundbreaking release from a band of artsy New York misfits and marketed by the creative whims of one of the most iconic figures of the time: Andy Warhol. The cornerstone of the Velvet Underground’s image and sound was the songwriting of Lou Reed. A socially-awkward Jewish kid from Long Island, Reed’s musical voice, like so many others, was forged in pop and in pain. He taught himself how to play R&B songs on guitar by listening to the radio, eventually forming a doo-wopish group as a teen. Reed also began suffering panic attacks and after a mental breakdown following his first semester at NYU, his parents submitted him for electroshock therapy.

“Panic attacks and social phobias beset him,” wrote Reed’s sister, Merrill Reed Weiner, in 2015. “He possessed a fragile temperament. His hyper-focus on the things he liked led him to music and it was there that he found himself.”

Reed’s love of music became his guide, and rock ‘n’ roll became his voice. He eventually landed work as a pop songwriter, churning out middling hits for Pickwick Records while composing songs for himself on the side. His approach was to keep things simple and direct.

“I studied classical piano, and the minute I could play something I started writing new things,” Reed said in 2004. “And I switched to guitar and did the same thing. And the nice thing about rock is, besides the fact that I was in love with it, anyone can play that. And to this day anyone can play a Lou Reed song. Anybody. It’s the same essential chords, just various ways of looking at them. There is nothing special about it, and it only becomes special when I can’t do it. When I can’t do it I’m very impressed by the person who can, and when I can do it, it means nothing. But I would write new things from the day I could play anything.”

Reed had been inspired by as much as R&B as pop, and his edgy approach belied a music lover whose tastes were informed by a wide variety of influences.

“There were two sides of the coin for me: That kind of music—R&B, doo-wop, rockabilly. And then Ornette Coleman and Don Cherry, Archie Shepp, stuff like that,” Reed told rock journalist David Fricke in 1989. “When I was in college, I had a jazz radio show. I called it Excursion on a Wobbly Rail, after a Cecil Taylor song. I used to run around the Village following Ornette Coleman wherever he played. There was his song ‘Lonely Woman,’ Charlie Haden’s bass on that [he hums the riff]. Extraordinary.”

What would become the Velvet Underground started in 1964, when Reed met experimental instrumentalist John Cale and formed a band called The Primitives. With Reed on guitar and Cale on virtually everything else, they eventually added guitarist Sterling Morrison and percussionist Angus Maclise. After a short stint as The Falling Spikes, the fledgling quartet dubbed themselves “The Velvet Underground” after Michael Leigh’s book about sexual subculture in the 1960s. After Maclise suddenly left the group prior to their first paying gig, Morrison brought in Maureen Tucker to play drums. With Tucker’s unique approach (she used mallets more than drumsticks and never played cymbals), the Velvet Underground’s classic sound began to come together.

Gigging around New York City, the band eventually was introduced to Andy Warhol and became fixtures at The Factory, his famous studio in the Decker Building on Union Square West. Warhol insisted on becoming their manager, and centered the Velvet Underground in his ambitious pop art roadshow, Exploding Plastic Inevitable, with the VU’s music combined in showcase with experimental films from Warhol and his associates. The exposure raised the band’s profile significantly—despite the fact that Warhol had little-to-no influence on their actual approach or sound and rarely operated as a traditional manager for the band.

“We needed someone like Andy,” John Cale told Rolling Stone in 1971. “He was a genius for getting publicity. Once we were in Providence to play at the Rhode Island School of Design and they sent a TV newsman to talk to us. Andy did the interview lying on the ground with his head propped up on one arm. There were some studded balls with lights shining on them and when the interviewer asked him why he was on the ground, Andy said, ‘So I can see the stars better.’ The interview ended with the TV guy lying flat on his back saying, ‘Yeah, I see what you mean.’”

“I loved him on sight, he was obviously one of us,” said Reed in 2004. “He was right. I didn’t know who he was, I wasn’t aware of any of that, amazingly enough. But he was obviously a kindred spirit if ever there was one, and so smart with charisma to spare. But really so smart. And for a quote ‘passive’ guy, he took over everything. He was the leader, which would be very surprising for a lot of people to work out. He was in charge of us, everyone. You look towards Andy, the least likely person, but in fact the most likely. He was so smart, so talented and 24 hours a day going at it.”

It was Warhol who famously pushed the Velvet Underground to add German model Nico as they worked on their first album—a move that the band resented.

“We were together as a band, and then Nico showed up at the Factory,” said Morrison in 1980. “Andy said, ‘Oh, here we have Nico. Would you like her to sing with you?’ We said, ‘Well, we couldn’t dis-like it.’ That’s how we became the Velvet Underground and Nico. She just came kind of creeping in. We knew that it couldn’t last, because we didn’t have that many songs she could sing. Lou and I cranked out some songs for her. ‘Femme Fatale’—she always hated that. [nasal voice] Nico, whose native language is minority French, would say, ‘The name of this song is ‘Fahm Fahtahl.’ Lou and I would sing it our way. Nico hated that. I said, ‘Nico, hey, it’s my title, I’ll pronounce it my way.’”

“Lou and I were sort of startled,” Cale recalled to Quietus in 2011. “Moe didn’t know what to make of it. And Sterling was harumphing . . . But, y’know, after a little bit, you got to understand Andy, and that was really pure Andy. Everybody suddenly started looking at us in a different way.”

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The VU began recording the album in the spring of 1966 at the ramshackle Scepter Studios in New York City. The original acetate was shopped around to labels and routinely dismissed, prompting the band to re-record several songs. To facilitate a more marketable approach to the music, producer Tom Wilson, who’d produced Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel, was brought in to remix some tracks. In Los Angeles, the Velvet Underground would re-record “Waiting For the Man,” “Venus and Furs” and “Heroin,” a seven-minute composition Lou Reed had begun as far back as 1964. At Wilson’s urging, the band also recorded the more radio-friendly “Sunday Morning.”

“I’d been around studios before, writing and recording these cutout-bin kind of records, trendy songs that sell for ninety-nine cents,” Reed said in 1989. “But Andy absorbed all the flak. Then MGM said they wanted to bring in a real producer, Tom Wilson. So that’s how you got ‘Sunday Morning,’ with all those overdubs—the viola in the back, Nico chanting. But he couldn’t undo what had already been done.”

For all of its visceral feel and focus, the debut album from the Velvet Underground opens with this rather delicate ballad. “Sunday Morning” features Lou Reed cooing in his most preciously girlie voice about “all the streets you cross not so long ago.” The song is a beautiful ode to paranoia (“Watch out—the world’s behind you”), and an early indicator that Reed was capable of remarkably simple melodicism that rivaled the more mainstream songwriters of the era while not directly emulating any of them. “Sunday Morning” was explicitly written to be a single, and is one of the most pop-friendly songs on the album. Wilson wanted the tune to be a showcase for Nico; nonetheless, it was Reed who sang the lilting lead vocal.

The jaggedly jaunty classic “I’m Waiting For the Man” sits somewhere between Bob Dylan, Lead Belly and glam rock, laying a sonic foundation on which David Bowie would build his church (Bowie recorded a live cover in 1972). The soundtrack for a white hipster’s travels uptown to score drugs, Reed’s crass “Hey white boy, what you doin’ uptown?” jive along with the strutting rhythm sounded more urban and streetwise than anything else happening in rock at the time. The declaration of “Man, you gotta split ‘cause he got no time to waste” captured the awkward hastiness of scoring some shit, with Reed’s chugging chords and Morrison’s Cropper-esque guitar lines swerving against the melody throughout.

The dirge-like “Venus In Furs” drips with sex and oozes doom. It’s an S&M-driven masterpiece that features Cale’s dissonant viola set against Maureen Tucker’s thumping drums. Reed’s lyrics are inspired by the novella of the same name—by Austrian author Leopold von Sacher-Masoch (“I didn’t write the book. But what a great book to throw into a song,” Reed would say in 1988), with declarations to “Strike dear mistress, and cure his heart” and references to “Sevrin” who “awaits you there.” The primary narrative of the novella describes the suprasexuality of Severin von Kusiemski, who is smitten with a woman named Wanda von Dunajew and longs to be dominated by her in degrading ways.

The forced addition of Nico adds an off-kilter element to the three songs on which she’s featured. Her icy vocal is best highlighted on the swirling midtempo “Femme Fatale,” a song inspired by Warhol superstar Edie Sedgwick. Warhol had requested Reed write a dedication to Sedgwick specifically, and “Femme Fatale” would be the first of many Reed compositions inspired by personalities he’d met at Warhol’s Factory. Reed’s observations of the people at Warhol’s Factory also inspired the Nico-led “All Tomorrow’s Parties.” Cale’s repetitive piano drives the melancholy feel, as the lyrics detail a sad woman who has lost her family. She was among the personalities Reed had encountered around Warhol.

Despite Reed’s declaration that “if anybody played a blues lick [in the band], they would be fined,” “Run Run Run” sounds like Slim Harpo sitting in with a garage band, with a driving rhythm turned on its ear and driven dissonant with Morrison’s jagged leads and Reed’s abrasive solo. It’s another song focused squarely on New York City junkie life, with lyrics that detail strung-out characters Teenage Mary, Margarita Passion, Seasick Sarah, and Beardless Harry, who need to “get a fix” and “rode the trolleys down to 47” to “get himself to heaven.”

“There She Goes Again” is the album’s most explicitly R&B-influenced track; the opening guitar rhythm is directly lifted from Marvin Gaye’s 1962 hit “Hitch Hike” and the backing vocals are straightforward harmonizing—or at least as close to it as the Velvet Underground got. Reed’s lyrics focus on the daily life of a prostitute: “She’s out on the streets again / She’s down on her knees, my friend / But you know she’ll never ask you please again.” The song never presents the woman as a tragic figure. In keeping with many of Reed’s characters, her life is just a reflection of reality—not a cautionary tale: “Now take a look, there’s no tears in her eyes / Like a bird, you know she would fly, what can you do / You see her walkin’ on down the street / Look at all your friends that she’s gonna meet…”

Nico’s vocals on “I’ll Be Your Mirror” became a source of frustration for Morrison and Reed. The German model seemed to be adamant in singing the song aggressively, which neither of the band members felt was suitable. After Morrison decided that they would scrap the song if she couldn’t get it right, Nico sang the final vocal in one take. It would be one of the first commercially available songs by the Velvet Underground—a single that was released in July 1966, almost a year before the album itself.

Cale’s experimentalism was at the core of “The Black Angel’s Death Song,” with dissonant viola and droning rhythms. The Chuck Berry-esque guitar riff repeats early on and slowly descends into avant-noise with feedback and distortion—as well as a crash of plates, courtesy of Cale—with Reed singing dismissive lyrics aimed at writer Delmore Schwartz, who was a mentor to Reed during the rocker’s time at Syracuse University. The lyrics don’t directly mention Schwartz, but original pressings of the album titled the track “European Son (Dedication to Delmore Schwartz.)”

One of the most harrowing and beautiful drug songs ever recorded, “Heroin” is an epic that seems to define the album. Opening with Reed’s distinctively melodic guitar lines and building into a cacophony of sound that evokes the rush of shooting up, it was a daring record—even during the “mind expanding” rhetoric of the 1960s. Hippie bands were singing about marijuana and LSD, but the darkness and danger of heroin was something else entirely. The element of release was there, but this was a harder addiction—something that the idealistic flower-power crowd hadn’t broached on record. Reed relished standing apart from what was supposedly the counterculture of the time.

In a 1987 interview, he told Joe Smith, “When [bands] did try to get, in quotes, ‘arty,’ it was worse than stupid rock ‘n’ roll,” he said. “What I mean by ‘stupid,’ I mean, like, the Doors. I never liked the Beatles, I thought they were garbage. If you say, ‘Who did you like?’ I liked nobody.”

The Velvet Underground’s “artsy outsider” ethos and fiercely New York image went against the grain in 1967, but their association with Andy Warhol kept the band’s profile relatively high for an act that was never very mainstream. The weight of Warhol’s image over the band came to be something that the Velvet Underground chafed against—especially after The Velvet Underground and Nico was released with the “produced by Andy Warhol” tag on the sleeve.

Cale fully understood the power of Warhol’s vision when the he saw what would become the iconic album cover for The Velvet Underground and Nico. The inspiration was purely spontaneous and indicative of how Warhol saw high art in the everyday. Warhol had noticed a magazine in the waiting room at an earlier doctor’s appointment; there was an ad inside that featured a banana with a peel-away sticker that revealed the nutrients in a banana. “He called me over and showed me: this is the album cover,” Cale told music publication The Quietus in 2011. “He said ‘What do you think of this as an album cover?’ I thought it was amazing.”

The Velvet Underground and Nico was finally released on March 12, 1967, but a pending lawsuit from actor Eric Emerson (his image was inadvertently featured in the background of the album’s back sleeve, in a photo of the band performing) led to it being shelved briefly and redistributed that summer. With the Summer of Love in full swing and much of the world fawning over Jimi Hendrix’s Are You Experienced? and the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper…, The Velvet Underground and Nico barely made a commercial dent. Shortly thereafter, the band broke from Warhol. And Nico, always viewed as a temporary affiliate of the Velvet Underground as opposed to an actual member, went her own way. She would release six solo albums before her death in 1988.

The Velvet Underground, of course, would release three more seminal albums, White Light/White Heat, their eponymous 1969 album, and 1970’s Loaded, before ultimately deteriorating (Cale would leave after White Light/White Heat and be replaced by Doug Yule; Reed and Morrison left the band after Loaded.) Cale would become one of the world’s most highly-regarded experimental rock artists, and Reed would go on to a legendary solo career, becoming one of the most revered rock songwriters of his generation before his death in 2013.

Brian Eno famously said in 1982 that “the first Velvet Underground album only sold 10,000 copies, but everyone who bought it formed a band,” and it doesn’t feel like hyperbole. With the benefit of hindsight, the most mythologized album of 1967, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, looks more like a relic of the Summer of Love and an exercise in pretentious pomposity. Conversely, The Velvet Underground and Nico looks more like the future of rock music. With its embrace of dissonant sounds, unapologetically gritty subject matter and simplistic rhythms and songwriting, the album is a jumping-off point for virtually every form of “alternative” music that would take hold over the next 30 years. Glam, punk, noise rock, art rock, ’80s college rock—it all seemed to draw from something established on The Velvet Underground and Nico. There has never been a rock album more ahead of its time.

In many ways, the world is still catching up to it.

Image000 - Copy (3) - Copy

Willie Loco Alexander

Willie circa 1956 in my basement long before he became a member of the Velvet Underground.

MisfitWisdom

 

 

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Counting The Days To Impeachment

mmmmm

Obviously a fake or alternative document

As you all know I’ve (agonizingly) refrained from blogging about The President (who shall remain unnamed) because it just drives me bonkers to even watch him, let alone write about him. So, that said, which I just did, I’m simply sitting back and counting the days till our Führer is impeached.

Hey……if Bill Clinton can be impeached for getting a damn blow job, WTF, at some point something will catch up to the unnamed President.

Soooo, what have I been doing instead of posting facts when I see a story on-line, which as we all know tend to cloud up the issues we all face in the political arena today. Damn those pesky facts.facts

Lets see.

Spending time watching other people (bloggers, FB  and Twitter people going berserk.

Good luck with that. As I said bloggers…..facts do not matter.

But, takes the pressure off of me having to post facts and some brain-dead idiot post an intelligent response like, “But what about liar Hillary or Bill’s blow job.”

Hmmmmm……..is getting a blow job really a bad thing? Oh yeah, (gasp) Bill lied about getting a blow job. Specifically, (for fact checkers) about having an affair.

Or, “Ah did not have sex with that woman.”

BUT……did you get a blow job?

“Um, er, well yes but ya didn’t ask me that!”bj2

Kinda like…….(under oath) “Mr. Sessions have you ever met with a Russian official.”

“Um…….not that I recall.”

(later)

“Mr. Sessions we have proof you actually met with a Russian official.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh. You said “Russian Official.” I thought you asked if I ever met with an official and was rushed.”sessions

Anyhow….so much for that.

Soooo, as I was saying, before getting sidetracked, I watch other bloggers etc. Visit my local casino because they give old coots like me free slot play every week. Promote my books, specifically “Forgotten” my most recent book about two WWII pilots killed over my town in 1944 in a mid-air crash.

Plan my Spring yard activities. Which are, in order:

  1. Build a giant wall to keep litter from flowing into my yard and have my Mexican neighbors across the street pay for it.

    HEYYYYYY! Great idea for an album cover.....ya think?

    HEY! Great idea for an album cover…..ya think?

  2. Add an extra four feet to my outdoor shed with funds obtained selling cats that I dyed orange who I named after the President.

    Um....geez....can't ya do better than this!!!

    Um….geez….can’t ya do better than this!!!

  3. Make giant signs with my name on it and tack them up on my mailbox, shed, truck, grass, house, driveway, trees, and any stray animals on my property as that unnamed person does. Hey…..works for him.Misfit was here bathroom graffiti
  4. Plant a lot of new trees in my yard. I figure if “HE” defunds the EPA trees will be a rarity after they all die off from pollution and I’ll make a killing selling MY trees.tree
  5. Build a dome over my yard to protect the trees from pollution. Cept for those damn Maple trees that get sap all over my truck.

    xxxxxx

    Available at CVS and Wal-Mart

  6. Build a new bird house that resembles the White House. My old one has a lot of bird poop on it……so……I thought it fitting under the circumstances that if would be a source of comfort for me to have birds poop on the new one…..considering……if ya catch my drift.poop1
  7. Considering the latest news from fake news that Obama bugged, as Orange Head would say, “tappd” his hotel, I’m  installing wiretaps on MY phone because I think someone else, probably the Russians, or telemarketers have tapped my phone so I’m going to “tapp” every phone in my neighborhood just to see if I can find out who’s leaking information to telemarketers, or the Russians, on what I buy at Amazon.com because how the hell can ya explain the fact I keep getting calls on my phone or on my computer wanting to sell me stuff they think I might be interested in.

    mmm

    PANIC! PANIC!

Ok……enough of this. The casino callith.

Yep….nobody there gives a big rats ass about politics.

My kinda place.

MisfitWisdom

 

 

 

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I Was Freakin’ 100% Correct When I Wrote This Blog

Yep……(patting myself on the back, which is not easy to do, but I will anyway)
Back on February 17, 2016 I wrote the following blog:

Playboy Magazine Just F**KED Themselves…….AND….No Nudity Was Involved Either.

mmmmmm

Titillating but…no tits…(soreeeeeee….couldn’t pass up on that one)

For once the dog is right.....

For once the dog is right…..

 

Yep….for the most part, sex involves nudity. I SAID……for the most part.

There ARE exceptions, but I’m not gonna go there.

Instead I’m gonna go to Playboy Magazine, who, since the beginning of time, um, well, at least since the beginning of MY time, has always featured nudity in their magazine. I believe “MY TIME” began in 1956 when Playboy featured Marilyn Monroe as their first nude layout.playboy marilyn cover

Soooo, fast forward to 2016 when Playboy, in all of its infinite wisdom decided to drop nudity altogether.

SHAZAM!playboy1

So, what do you wind up with? A glorified spinoff of “Maxim” and “Esquire” magazines.

As Steven Colbert of Comedy Central said on one of his shows with regard to reading Playboy, “Now men can really say they’re reading it strictly for the articles.”

mmmmm

Articles? What articles?

Now all that said, which I just did, I completely understand that many of you will have differing opinions. BUT….because this is MY blog and this is MY opinion, deal with it.

Now why do I personally think Playboy is, pardon the expression, “f**ked?”

Well, simple, it WAS a classy men’s magazine that yes, had nudity within its pages, which, if you are a male, contributed to the enjoyment of reading the magazine. Not only for the nudity, which I might add was always in good taste, (no hard-core stuff) but YES….YES…..for, (believe it or not) the articles, which were cutting edge and very informative.

Sure, when I was a mere child, and had no access to boobs, like every teenager, or younger, I would rip off a copy of Playboy, scurry back to my bedroom and ogle the photos. I really didn’t give a rats ass at that age WTF else was in the magazine. As did most of my friends as well.

But, as I grew older I truly enjoyed the articles, cartoons, interviews, jokes, finding the hidden Playboy rabbit logo and yes, the nudity.

mmmm

At Hef’s age….I actually believe him

Again….”the nudity” was the keystone of Playboy for many years and perhaps its attraction.

It’s like having the main character from one of your favorite TV shows leave. It’s never really the same.

And men, let’s face it, all of us, me included, fantasize about women naked. The nature of the beast. Us being the beasts.

And, we all (men) fantasize about our favorite celebrities naked. Go ahead, deny it, and if ya do, you’re a freakin’ liar.

Playboy fulfilled those fantasies by allowing us to actually see some of those celebrities in the buff. Tastefully of course. And yes, airbrushed, as in some celebrities who were past their prime, such as Nancy Sinatra, Terry Moore, etc.

Nancy Sinatra

Nancy Sinatra

Terry Moore

Terry Moore

I myself have opted not to renew my subscription to Playboy. My way of protesting that stupid move to eliminate nudity. Do they actually think their decision to eliminate nudity is going to attract more subscribers? I thinkith notith.

Are there any other options? Not really. I mentioned Maxim and Esquire but I much preferred Playboy. So, now I’m relegated to just being titillated, (love that word) by AARP Magazine. (sigh)

Just shoot me now.....

Just shoot me now…..

One final point here. I acknowledge the fact that on any give moment one can go on the Internet and find any kind of nudity they want to. If you’re into that stuff. But, those sites are strictly nudity with absolutely no class at all.

Playboy Magazine had class. Now that the corporate dummies have taken over they may still have “class” but in dumping the “in good taste nudity” will pay the price. The “price” being that no one in their right mind is gonna pay the “price” for their magazine to get the same thing you can get in Esquire or Maxim.

Remember that old saying, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

mmmmmm
 Fast forward to today February 13, 2017 AD
Sooooooooo. guess what my fine (nude) feathered friends.booby bird bra
Playboy Is Bringing Back Nudity a Year After Pledging to Stop Publishing Naked Pictorials

Playboy is returning to its original form. (patting myself on the back again)

Here’s today’s news release:

The magazine announced that nudity will, again, be featured on its pages on Monday – starting with the March/April 2017 issue, titled Naked Is Normal.

Chief Creative Officer Connor Hefner – the 25-year-old son of Hugh Hefner – simultaneously tweeted, “I’ll be the first to admit that the way in which the magazine portrayed nudity was dated, but removing it entirely was a mistake. Nudity was never the problem because nudity isn’t a problem. Today, we’re taking our identity back and reclaiming who we are.”

In fall 2015, then-Playboy CEO Scott Flanders announced that the magazine would no longer publish nude photoshoots of women.

Cory Jones, chief content officer of Playboy, told the New York Times that the nudity-free makeover was meant to make the magazine “a little more accessible, a little more intimate.”

Hefner, 90, first published Playboy in 1953 with Marilyn Monroe on the cover and in risqué photos inside. In the years that followed, Playboy became known for its full-frontal pictorials.

RELATED VIDEO: Kendra Wilkinson Isn’t Hiding Her Playboy Past From Her Kids

The new return to nudity won’t be quite as NSFW, though, with the March/April issue only displaying breasts and butts, according to the New York Post.

Elizabeth Elam is the March/April cover star. She was photographed by Gavin Bond for the issue, which is on newsstands now.

Now, after once again patting myself on the back for being soooooo right, if I could only predict Wednesday’s Powerball numbers.

Misfit Wisdom 2017

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Kellyanne Conway’s Facts of Alternative Facts*

*Subtitled: I Can’t Believe I’m Actually Saying These Things and Those Idiot Trump Supporters Are Buying Into It.kellyanne1

George Washington did not chop down that cherry tree and then confess to his father by saying, “I cannot tell a lie.” What actually happened is that the cherry tree actually fell down and George felt this was an opportunity to cash in on his image by confessing to his father that he chopped it down so that he would appear to be an honest kid when if fact he was an opportunistic lying SOB.gw3

Abraham Lincoln was not born in a log cabin. He was actually raised in what was to become the first condo complex made out of log cabins located on the South side of Illinois which was manufactured by the Lincoln Log Company which his father owned.

Abe's original condo unit

Abe’s original condo unit

Thomas Dewey actually did win the presidency against Harry Truman but because the lying mainstream media reversed that headline the next day that Truman had actually won the election people believed them and told Dewey to get lost and they ran him out of town on a rail.

Alternative fact

Alternative fact

John F. Kennedy’s famous speech “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country” was changed from “Ask not what you can do for your country, but what can your country do for you.” (original JFK speech was written by Melania Trump -yet another alternative unknown fact)melania1

George Orwell’s book, “1984” was actually first called “2017” but he changed it figuring we’d all be dead by 2017 because some idiot President would be elected somewhere between late 2016 and 2017, which makes sense to me because he had a vision Hillary Clinton would be President in a dream he had one night. The following evening he had the same exact dream only he saw Donald Trump as President and went with naming the book “2017” but his publisher rejected that title as being too far-fetched considering nobody would know who TF either of those two people were. (I think Orwell’s headstone says, “I Told Ya So”)orwell

Donald Trump, my boss, and, I’ll remind you, THE PRESIDENT! never said he’d like to grab pussy. He said, “I love to grab pussycats because they’re so soft and furry.”

mmm

Unless there’s another hot pussy around

Emperor Trump’s birthday is NOT June 14, 1946 as the media falsely claims. Because we Republicans and right to lifers believe life begins at conception Donald’s birthday is actually October 14, 1945 which, is yet another alternative fact if you consider that is 9 months earlier than June.

My hair is outta place

My hair is outta place

 

Much has been said about press secretary Sean Spicer telling the press to “shut up.” Once again the mainstream media got it wrong taking things out of context. Mr. Spicer was actually talking into his hidden microphone to his aides in the back room who were feeding him answers to questions the press was asking. Unable to hear the press and his aides at the same time he said, “shut up.”alternative-facts

In conclusion, there is such a thing as “alternative facts” which Kellyanne stated at one of her press conferences. Alternative facts are facts that are alternative to facts that are not actually facts but facts that can be altered to reflect alternative facts that show that facts cannot be taken seriously unless one first examines the alternative facts to see if they make more sense than facts which sometime, in most cases, are not actually facts and can be proven wrong by simply listening to alternative facts. And that IS a fact. Or, an alternative one.

Unless their alternative facts

Unless they’re alternative facts

Hope this clears everything up for ya folks.

Meanwhile………………….The Most Popular Part of New York: 'Trump-Free Zone.'

MisfitWisdom 2017

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Goodbye…………………………………..

trump-winners-are

This will be the last EVER of the MisfitWisdom blog in light of our recent election when obviously a majority of “reality show minded” Americans decided that a man with no experience and a reality show star should be our president.

I cannot and will not accept him as the leader of our nation. The reasons are obvious and too many to mention. And, at this point, it really doesn’t matter. Personally, and these are my own feelings like it or not, for 9 years my intent on writing this blog was to give a bit of current event humor to my readers. I can no longer, in light of this past election, find it in my heart or soul to find the incentive or stamina to do that any longer.

(UPDATE) I have opted to move my inane comments and demented opinions to “Steemit” on rare occasions should you care to follow my antics.

Perhaps this article by “Mother Jones” will sum up my sentiments. Thanks to everyone who followed this blog:

Hate Trumps History: A Reality TV Star Wins the White House in a Broken America

There’s no telling what comes next.

America is broken. Into two irreconcilable halves. In a historic and baffling election—after a brutally ugly campaign—Donald Trump, an erratic candidate who campaigned as a bully and a bigot, who demonstrated a weak understanding of crucial policy matters, who set a record for false statements, who encouraged violence, who was caught bragging about committing sexual assault, who hid key information about his life from the public, and who was called by members of his own party a con artist, a racist, and a danger to the nation, won the votes (if not the hearts and minds) of tens of millions of Americans and the keys to the White House. Pocketing a huge majority of non-college-educated white voters, Trump prevented Hillary Clinton from becoming the country’s first woman president. Hate did trump. The Republicans’ animus-driven effort yielded a decisive victory for the reality television celebrity and left the nation bitterly and fundamentally divided.

Pushing a message of inclusion and declaring that “love trumps hate,” Clinton pulled together a diverse coalition of voters reflecting the demographic changes underway in America, much like the majorities assembled by Barack Obama. Trump mounted a demagogic effort fueled by anger, resentment, fear, and lies that appealed mostly to older white guys without much education. The 2016 election, because of Trump’s thuggish conduct and racist and misogynistic statements and actions, marked a severe decline in US political discourse.

This was a campaign of profoundly conflicting attitudes and opposing perspectives. Trump depicted the United States as a down-and-out hell hole, overrun by undocumented Latino immigrants and criminals (including ISIS infiltrators) and sold out by craven political and media elites in league with international bankers (shades of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion). He was the candidate of disruption and chaos, claiming he would be the do-whatever-it-takes, tough-guy champion of Americans who felt screwed over by the powers that be. He was the strongman who could slay the treasonous enemies of American greatness within and single-handedly restore the lives and dreams of hardworking folks and bring about the return of some mythical (whiter?) America. Trump wielded powerful themes: revenge, destruction, and revival. He made big promises; he didn’t sweat the pesky specifics.

Clinton pitched an utterly different view: The United States, a wonderful mixing bowl, was already great and on the mend after the Bush-Cheney recession, but the nation needed to strive in a communal fashion to help those still struggling and become even greater. She was the roll-up-your-sleeves-and-get-to-work policy wonk, with oodles of experience to do the job. Her message was more cerebral, not as visceral. Never known as an effective firebrand, Clinton campaigned as if this were a job interview, not a holy crusade. Her motto, “Stronger Together,” was vague but a counter to Trump’s politics of hate and accusation. The opposites were well-defined: bare-knuckled instincts versus deliberative smarts, hot passion versus cool competence, instability versus experience, R versus D, and, yes, macho man versus pioneering woman.

The Clinton-Trump face-off was the most policy-free election of recent decades. As soon as Clinton secured the Democratic nomination and turned toward Trump, her likely opponent, she focused less on the policy differences—of which there were many that cut along traditional D/R and progressive/conservative lines—and aimed at what she figured was his greatest weakness: Trump himself. She made his temperament the key topic. With polls showing he was not a popular or trusted person, this was an obvious strategy, especially since Clinton, too, scored poorly in such polls. She zeroed in on his egotism, his arrogance, his lack of self-control, his divisive and vengeful nature. Could he be trusted with nuclear weapons? With the economy? Top experts on national security and economics said no. Surely, all these people couldn’t be wrong.

Trump even obliged by acting throughout much of the campaign in an egotistical, arrogant, undisciplined, and mean-spirited manner. He lashed out. He engaged in juvenile name-calling. He was obsessed with personal slights—and with himself, constantly praising himself in the third person and citing polls (when they were good) to declare he was the best thing ever. He insulted the parents of an Army captain who lost his life in Iraq. In the wee hours, he tweet-feuded with a former Miss Universe. He was cheered by white supremacists and mainstreamed the alt-right. He allied himself with conspiracy theorist Alex Jones, who has claimed 9/11 was an inside job (orchestrated or allowed to happen by Republicans!) and who insisted the Sandy Hook shooting massacre was a hoax. Trump’s odd behavior yielded one of the best put-downs of the campaign, courtesy of President Barack Obama: “Over the weekend, his campaign took away his Twitter account. Now, if your closest advisers don’t trust you to tweet, then how can we trust him with the nuclear codes?” Millions of American voters disagreed. (They also told Obama they didn’t give a damn about his legacy. They would elect a racist to replace the first black president.)

Trump’s obvious deficits—his bad temper, his crackpot birtherism, his refusal to release his taxes, his crude and boorish ways, his history of stiffing contractors, his past ties to the mob, his bankruptcies, his ill-informed policy statements, his multiple flip-flops, his climate change denialism, his love affair with Vladimir Putin, his boasts of grabbing women “by the pussy”—were of little concern to a majority of voters (or at least a majority of those in the key swing states). They were either too damn mad or could not stand Clinton. Maybe because she was a woman, maybe because of…whatever. Trump told many more lies than she did, but she was judged untrustworthy.

Policy details—Clinton’s strength—didn’t matter. This was a battle of personalities and abilities. Trump devoted little time to backing up his “Make America Great Again” vow with substance. The only policy he truly seemed to care about was the wall that he vowed he would build on the US-Mexico border with you-know-who paying for it. It was a cure-all for the problems of illegal immigration, ISIS terrorists infiltrating America, and the opioid epidemic in New Hampshire. The old saying is that if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. As one former Trump adviser told me, in the early days of his campaign, his lieutenants made sure that he was always prepared to discuss the wall. That way, if any subject came up that was tough to talk about, he could always pivot to the wall. Former aides noted the obvious: This was a man with attention issues. That itself should have been another disqualification, but it was not.

With Clinton also distrusted by a majority of voters, Trump didn’t need much policy chops. He pummeled her as the embodiment of all that his followers hated and feared about the nation: She was a corrupt, treasonous member of an elite in league with globalists trying to suck the lifeblood out of America. Trump exploited the Clinton and Obama hatred on the right. At rallies and at the GOP convention, his devotees wore “Hillary for Prison 2016” T-shirts and shouted “lock her up.” These were festivals focused on hatred. Trump encouraged this, as if the United States were a phony democracy where politicians attempt to imprison foes. He pledged to send her to jail if he won. (At the end of the final presidential debate, top Trump surrogate Rudy Giuliani snarled at me, “She should already be in jail.” For what? He didn’t say.)

Clinton’s email imbroglio handed Trump ammunition for his over-the-top assault. She had screwed up and taken too long to explain and apologize for this misjudgment. Her failure to separate herself from the Clinton Foundation and its funders posed another problem. These controversies were not concocted by the right, but they were certainly not nearly as bad as Trump’s alleged sexual assaults, his lack of transparency, his Trump University fraud case, his former ties to the mob, and his modeling firm’s use of models without work visas. Still, these episodes, often with mainstream media assistance, were hyped beyond reason and allowed Republicans and conservatives to peg their hatred to real-world events. Trump made her the focus of all the wrath he had inspired, and he kept pushing this button: She was a liar, she was crooked, she was a criminal, she was a mobster. He also contended that she was a weak woman who did not look presidential. (Sorting out how sexism affected the 2016 contest—from media coverage to voter attitudes—will be an honorable task in the weeks, months, and years to come.) Trump normalized demonization, tossing aside the standard courtesies of political debate. He made the race a test of trash-talking.

All of this was mirrored in the candidates’ events. Trump rallies were infused with pessimism and rocked with loathing. These were people pissed off at having to press 1 for English and 2 for Spanish; some felt economically insecure, some felt culturally threatened by the changing complexion of the United States. Clinton events were models of earnestness and, dare one say it, hope. Hers looked like America. His were uni-tonal. Politics is often a cultural clash. This race more so than ever. Mars and Venus collided. It was tribal warfare between Trump’s us-against-them nation and Clinton’s we’re-all-in-this-together coalition. The fight was not really over trade policy. It was about which America was ascendant, and the vision of the angry and the lesser educated triumphed. The alt-right, the Ku Klux Klan, the anti-Semites, and, by the way, Vladimir Putin won. (The Russian hack of US democracy worked—an important story that will require deeper exploration in the weeks and months ahead.)

This horrid election settled the primary issue at hand: who will move into the White House. But it did not resolve the fundamental conflicts that animated the most cracked and awful presidential campaign in modern times. The forces of animus have taken control of this country. And there is no telling what comes next.

MisfitWisdom 2016

 

 

 

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Days You Should Be Celebrating In November……One In Particular

november-turky-santa

That ONE day that anyone with a working brain will be celebrating this month will be November 9th. THE DAY AFTER THE 2016 ELECTION.

Why?

1. I will stop frothing out of my mouth.

2. Every time I turn on my television I WILL NOT see another negative TV ad for ANY politician.

3. If Trump loses the only time I’ll hear that name again is if I’m playing a game of Bridge…..hopefully.

3a. If Trump wins I’m keeping a close eye on my “pussycats.” Just sayin.’

4. If Clinton wins I KNOW this years Christmas gift list will be a lot shorter. (those people who “I” unfriended and who “unfriended” me because I voted for Hillary)

Soreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

For once the dog is right

For once the dog is right

And finally, 5. I can stop taking my tranquilizers.

OK…….now for other less nerve-wracking events this month.

This month is “Aviation History Month.” I usually take advantage of this celebration of Aviation Month by telling certain people who piss me off to go take a flying” f**k.” Seems appropriate don’t ya think?

mmm

OK guys…..booby time……heh, heh, heh

 

November is also “International Drum Month.”

Gene Krupa....the early years

Gene Krupa….the early years

For you readers who have no freakin’ idea who Gene Krupa is, consider him an early version of Phil Collins of Genesis. But much better……….(watch the video below)

“National Novel Writing Month.” Been there – done that.

My non best selling novel

My non best-selling novel…..hey…….at least I tried for cripes sake!!!!

 

“Peanut Butter Lovers Month.” Um….excuse me….got peanut butter on my keyboard…DAMN!

mmmmm

The beginning of a lifelong relationship between peanut butter and jelly

So, you now have a choice of celebrating the entire month with your choices above, or, if you have a short attention span, or are just short, here’s November’s list of DAYS you can celebrate.

November 2nd is “Plan Your Epitaph Day.” Because, ya never know. If ya catch my drift.

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OK, we believe ya now

The 3rd is “Housewife’s Day.” Yes, I know, hard to believe there are still housewife’s around today. But, trust me, there are. I think they all reside in New Jersey.

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Mine would be the mermaid. HEY! Gimmie a break. I like fish

“Sandwich Day” we celebrate on November 3rd. Or, as we former Rhode Islander’s pronounce it, “Sangwich Day.”

mmmm

WTF!

Once a year writing this nonsensical blog I get to mention King Tut’s Drive-In Restaurant in Beckley, West Virginia. November 4th is “King Tut Day” So, I guess, in honor of the late King Tut, (the dead guy) I went with the restaurant angle only because my other half is from Beckley and it makes her long for a TUT burger and fries. However, check out their sign. When there, I opted for McDonald’s.

Kig Tut Drive In Restaurant, Beckley, West (by Gawd) Virginia

Kig Tut Drive In Restaurant, Beckley, West (by Gawd) Virginia

WAIT! What’s on their menu…………………

Blaghhhhhhhch

Um….fried chicken livers on a pizza? WTF!

“Book Lovers Day” is on the first Saturday of the month which I think falls on November 5th this year. Whatever. If you read books on a Kindle, it may still count as celebrating this day. Not sure.

mmmm

OK, how about a Yellow Bellied Sapsucker?

“Marooned Without A Compass Day,” or, considering we all have GPS systems now, it could be changed to “Marooned Without A GPS System Day” we celebrate on November 6th.

Tom Hanks after being marooned on an island and finally making it home

Tom Hanks, on his first date after being marooned on an island and finally making it back to civilization

“Saxophone Day” (blow your brains out pal) is on the 6th. Anybody remember Bill Doggett?

Hmmm. Ok….WAIT!

MMMM

Now if you’re my age, (prehistoric) you’ll immediately think of the good of rock and roll when saxophones ruled. “Honkey Tonk” by Bill Doggett for instance. BUT……..there’s a sexier side of saxophones as well………(trust me on this one)

OH…….and enjoy Candy Dulfer’s outfit and adorable dimples. Oh yeah……the sax too. Or the sex…….as in her outfit.

Want more. Visit Candy’s site for tour info at http://www.candydulfer.nl

“Cook Something Bold Day” is on the 8th.

mmmm

Bold enough for ya?

Ok….here we go……..tranquilizer day. “U. S. General Election Day.” Or, as many of us laughingly refer to it as, “Politicalclusterfuckday.”

mmmm

LOOK OUTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!

Appropriately following our national elections on the 9th is “Chaos Never Dies Day.”

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As in this instance

“The 11th is “Veteran’s Day.” Need I say more.

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A MisfitWisdom salute to all veterans

One of my favorite days in November is “Sadie Hawkins Day.” Created by cartoonist Al Capp many eons ago as part of his “Lil Abner” comic strip which appeared in many daily newspapers.

Here’s how it all began.

Al Capp Sadie Hawkins origin second....

AND….the plan………………and end result…………………sadie2

If you’ve ever had an operation, today is the day you need to give thanks to all operating room nurses as November 14th is “Operating Room Nurse Day.” They deserve a lot of respect. If only for having to endure the site of an endoscopy tube being shove up some guys butt. Not a pretty site.

 

mmm

What you don’t see when your under some really great drugs

The 15th is “Clean Your Refrigerator Day.” Or, as we call it here at the MisfitWisdom household, “Mold Containment Day.”

MMMMM.

“National Philanthropy Day” (the day when any of my followers who have hit the lottery are supposed to share with me) is on November 15th.

mmmm

“Button Day” we celebrate on the 16th. Why? Who TF knows.

mmmm

“Electronic Greeting Card Day” is on the 17th. Considering a lot of us have opted to save a buck (cheapskates) and send greeting cards by e-mail, if you get one of those electronic greeting cars, show your appreciation by sending them this thank you card for caring so much.jesus-loves-you-idiot-shirtThis entire blog, so far, has been absurd…so to speak…which I just did. So, to honor this blog, along with absurdity, I will celebrate “Absurdity Day” on November 20th.

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A woman’s favorite pet

“False Confession Day” is on the 21st. Um….been there……done that. Um…er…..I’m going to hell aren’t I.

MMMM

Ah feel yer pain Pinocchio

Considering this election this year, “Evolution Day” is on November 24th. Have we REALLY evolved?

mmm

I rest my case

 

Yes, we all know….the bird is the word on the 24th. “Thanksgiving.”

mmmmm

Give a turkey an inch and he takes a mile

The 24th is “Shopping Reminder Day.” Which works for men. But do ya REALLY have to remind ANY woman to shop!!!!

mmmm

My thoughts while shopping

FINALLY…….on November 27th, ………………………Hmmmmm…..maybe I should keep all of you on pins and needles.

Ah, screw it……the 27th is “Pins and Needles Day.”

 

mmmmm

 

Ok……that’s it folks. Now more of enduring the next few days until November 8th. Should sanity prevail, I’ll be back with my normal nonsense. Providing of course, I still have followers after taking over a month off.

For the entire list of days you can celebrate visit http://www.holidayinsights.com

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Just Popping In……..

Yep….still on a self-imposed exile from my blog until November 9th. Why….well, this for one………..

Need I say more......

Need I say more……

Anyhow…..there will be a usual post on November 1st as usual as I do on the 1st of every month entitled “Days You Should Be Celebrating in November.

Until after the election………..see ya then. Thanks to my loyal followers for sticking by and still accessing my archives,

 

MisfitWisdom 2016

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