Tag: politics

Trump to burn G-7 summit guests alive at conference in Florida during hot month


I got some work done here at Day Job HQ in a remote location deep in the Long Island Sound so I am logging on remotely to the Caffeinated Jam servers to bring you some annoyed garbage yet again.

Donald Trump, this president of the United States that we have, decided to award the 2020 G-7 Summit to his Doral resort in Miami next June. I don’t think we need to discuss how much this goes against all sorts of ethics. Dave Fahrenthold of the Washington Post said that Trump’s resort is usually about one-third full in June; it will be full during the summit, therefore accounting for a 200 percent increase in occupation from year to year.

So while this move lines Trump’s pockets and causes ethics watchdogs to scream and shout and Congress to race to draw up even more articles of impeachment and all of us to bury our heads in our hands and wonder when this nightmare of leadership will end if it ever ends, I can’t help but wonder:

Florida? In June?

Look, plenty of places in America provide nice locations for major international geopolitical summits in June. You have 1997 G-8 host Denver, a beautiful city high above sea level where fresh air and beautiful resorts not owned by the president of the United States are abound. You have Philadelphia, the birthplace of American liberty according to most problematic textbooks, where Shinzo Abe can treat himself to a nice cheesesteak if he’s feeling freaky. You have San Francisco, a cosmopolitan city where perhaps Macron can enjoy a nice loaf of sourdough and Angela Merkel can shove Boris Johnson off the Golden Gate. None of these places are too hot or humid in the early summer months.

But Florida in June? Nightmare. Nightmare. Nightmare. You ever walk around Disney World in June, if you’re the kind of sadomasochist who would do such a thing? Nightmare. The smell of sweat stings the nostrils no matter where you walk. Poor Mickey’s passed out against the Tea Cups because he can’t breathe in his suit. The line for Splash Mountain is two hours long because everyone just needs to feel that two-second gust of wind and water against their face, and the park’s clean out of Aquafina. You don’t vacation in Florida in June unless you’re a psychopath, and you don’t host a major conference of world leaders in Florida in June unless you are both a sociopath and an inept world leader.

(Disclaimer: I love Florida. I like it more in the winter months. I have never met anyone who disagrees with me on that.)

I can see it now: “It’s Day Two of the G-7 Summit at Trump Doral in Miami, and world leaders are convening for another round of talks. Trump has gathered his guests in the Champions Bar & Grill overlooking the Blue Monster golf course, and is serving what appears to be burgers and fries for a light lunch. Temperatures in Miami today are reaching highs in the mid-nineties, and everyone appears to be feeling the heat. European Union chairs Ursula von der Leyen and Charles Michel have stripped down to their undergarments, unable to cool themselves down enough with the warm iced tea that the Trump wait staff has served them. Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe is casting longing gazes at the two in-ground pools. And of course, everyone is waiting on the American president himself, who woke up early to take a long crap and venture off for a quick eighteen holes with Rudy Giuliani, who is out on bail.”

Also: What if one of the world leaders God forbid dies at the Doral? What if, like, Giuseppe Conti chokes on some undercooked chicken and straight up kicks it? Is Trump responsible? How would Italy respond? Would a major global kerfuffle occur because a business owned by the president of the United States was responsible for the death of the Italian Prime Minister? Would world leaders take sides right then and there? Who’d play Axis? Who’d play Allies? (I can tell ya right now: Given things at the moment, I don’t think we’d be Allies.)

I mean, Jesus Of Nazareth The Christ, if Trump would sit down with a fourth grader who opened up a book about ethics at the library by mistake, he’d know more about what not to do as the leader of a country than he does now. This guy goes out of his way to make things harder for just about everything and everyone because he’s upset that no one will stay in his resort in Florida during one of Florida’s hottest months. He’d build a goddamned biodome around the entire country if and only if it would mean that he wouldn’t have to worry about paying for air conditioning for his resorts. Forget global warming. That’s not why he’d work to cool down the world. He’d want to cool down his estates without paying the HVAC guy. And he’d build a big biodome to do it. A great, big, beautiful biodome with his name plastered across it, so that no matter where you go, you can see the name TRUMP fading into the sky like the Halo from Halo.

But you know, maybe something good can come of this. I wonder what Tiffany and Barron are up to. Those scamps! Those black sheep of the Trump family! They could have some fun. Tiff, Barron, if you’re reading, go sneak into your dad’s G-7 summit next June and mess some stuff up. Put a live frog in Angela Merkel’s soup. Fill Shinzo Abe’s shampoo container with blue hair dye. Pants Boris Johnson and then push him into the pool. It’ll be like you’re in the new wacky Disney Channel Original Movie “President Dad”, coming soon to Disney Plus like just about every other film, apparently. +


I know little about the Kurds but I don’t like that we left them out to dry

I don’t know much about politics or government or national pride or how to make a country but let me tell you that it feels weird to watch the guy who calls himself our best president pull our services away from a people who depended on us to keep them safe from a war machine ready to strike. The Kurds now get to deal with Turkey and their armaments, most of which the U.S. and Russia helped fund in one of those fun Trump-Putin-Erdogan deals. Again: I know nothing. I just typed “Hey Google, did we sell weapons to Turkey?” into the Google search bar, and Google said, “Yes, sort of, because you see, a bunch of the most powerful people in the world suck huge.”

It would be so easy to cancel student debt in this country, and yet the dude running it would rather get us into further military trouble with everyone. How is it that easy to cause global conflict and so damn difficult to give me and my fiancee $50K? We got rent to pay. That sounds selfish, but it’s not that we don’t care about the Kurds. We just want these goofy dudes in suits to shut the hell up and, like, work in a soup kitchen or something. We’re the INFPs your mother warned you about, you Myers-Briggs knowing folks.

Anyway, did you hear the new Menzingers album? A new Menzingers album helps with everything. Hello Exile has that good sound that I like from these guys; it reminds me of After the Party, but built upon and a little more mature. That tracks, considering that After the Party sounded more grown than Rented World and On The Impossible Past. It’s cool that they have their now-ubiquitous-on-every-rock-album song about the current affairs of the world on this disc, which they call “America (You’re Freaking Me Out)”. It’s got a little nod to LCD Soundsystem on there too in the lyric “America, I love you but you’re freaking me out.” You know that LCD Soundsystem song, “New York, I Love You, But You’re Bringing Me Down”? Yeah.

Speaking of which: Today in New York it was rainy and cold and the first harbinger of winter, but regular fall weather will come back this weekend. Fall in the City always comes and goes and you never have more than three weeks of bearable weather; at least I haven’t experienced a true autumn with top temperatures in the sixties and nice orange and yellow leaves in my last seven years of living in New York. September and October have always roasted, and November has given maybe two weeks of relief before plunging us all into the cryogenic chamber of a New York City snowpocalypse. You bet I’m counting the days until I break out the polar bear parka.

Also given my recent Day Job Business (help me oh master of life release me from this mortal coil) I have lost the pulse of the music scene, which means that I never got to listen to 1000 gecs by 100 gecs until just now, and if you had told me in 2010 that someone would release an album in 2019 that covers a decade of pop music, blending dubstep and electrothrash and nightcore and bedroom pop and trance and chiptune and party pop and vaporwave and massive house bangers, I would have said: “Yeah, that checks out. Anyway, give me $50,000. I am a broke college student.” Also: 1000 gecs is very good, but Mom and Dad, it’s probably not for you.

That’s all I’m going to say for now. To the Kurds, I’m sorry; I’d rather our guy-in-charge didn’t call off our troops who were fending off Turkey for you, and I’m usually the one to say, “Hey, let’s not escalate military activity anywhere at all if we can help it.” But this sucks, and I wish you all had $50,000 to pool together in order to build a big cannon with which you could launch Erdogan into the Sun. +

Mets win two against Minnesota; Rand Paul and racists don’t make it feel good

I switched back to a more classic look for Caffeinated Jam because I got tired of the grid-style magazine format. Also, because the blog has taken a more personal approach as of late, I got nostalgic for the simplicity of the old Tumblr sites I used to keep. Ah, Tumblr, a platform I never used well. I tried to make long diatribes about politics and music work while other folks racked up thousands of likes and reblogs from posting a single two-frame GIF of a dancing potato.

Yesterday afternoon the Mets made their second game against the Twins look like a modest repeat of their game on Tuesday, keeping a tight score throughout the first half. Jeff McNeil’s belt fell off while he tried to catch a ball in the bottom of the second, and the Twins pulled ahead to a 3-2 lead in the fifth, and it seemed like we would get another gaffe-filled day out of our beloved New York team. But the Twins would supply the better part of the goofs later on, as fielding errors from Eddie Rosario and Miguel Sano allowed the Mets to blow the game wide open. Dominic Smith homered at the top of the seventh, and in the eighth, the Twins threw their defense out the window as Mets batters brought in the runs to make a 9-3 lead.

The Mets sealed the Twins’ fate, however, when Pete Alonso — the first baseman who many on Twitter said needed a good moment — had his moment when he rocketed the ball almost out of Target Field, clocking a 474 ft. homer for the books. The hit brought both Alonso and Dominic Smith home, making a double-digit score for the Mets and leaving the Twins in the dust. Minnesota, shaken, never recovered, although Eddie Rosario hit a groundout to help Mitch Garver score in the eighth; the Mets beat the first-place Twins 14-4 in the end.

You would think that a massive victory like this would keep me riding high throughout the day, But then I went on Twitter, as I do, because I hate myself and have never done well with self-care, and I saw the news of Trump sycophants screaming for Ilhan Omar’s deportation even though she has citizenship and voted for 9/11 first responders to receive financial aid from the government that day and has done more to try and unify the country than the President of the United States, even though that doesn’t say much because the President has done nothing and you could say the same thing about a lot of folks.

Ilhan Omar voted to pass the Zadroga Act, which in its current state would provide relief to 9/11 first responders and their families until the year 2090. A good chunk of folks voted for it, too. Mitch McConnell, with his resting Mitch face, said he’d consider it. But when the bill came to the Senate, Rand Paul — the Kentucky senator who makes plenty of Kentuckians take another shot of bourbon on a daily basis — blocked Kirsten Gillibrand’s request that the bill be approved by unanimous consent. He and Utah’s Mike Lee — a man who has a thing with dinosaurs, as we’ve reported — say that they want to offset funds from other federal programs in order to pay for the fund before they vote on it. This, as you might realize, sounds like bullshit. You’re right.

See, Rand Paul voted for the legislation which gave tax cuts to the wealthy without wondering how the government would pay the trillion-plus dollar cost. So for him to slow his roll on a much cheaper bill that would provide relief to folks who risked their lives in the face of danger doesn’t seem right. There’s other pork in the budget to which Rand could object; the Zadroga Act isn’t it. And with broad support from both sides of the Senate and a near-unanimous Yea vote in the House, Rand’s delaying the bill’s passing seems like nothing more than baseless punishment for something. Plus, he says that he wants to move money from education and agriculture in order to pay for this fund? Those departments are already strapped enough! Again, where was he when Trump and friends were gung-ho on spending trillions to get a tax cut?

I mean, we can slam Rand all we want, but he’ll just whine about how we’re attacking him like his neighbor did that one time, and then he’ll quote some Ayn Rand or something, and then run away and call his dad and cry. I didn’t know that Ron Paul still did stuff. I realized just today that he still has a show where he talks about libertarian values and such. While Googling this show, though, I saw that Ron Paul has shown some affection for Bernie Sanders, which, uh, kind of makes my head hurt a little bit.

The Mets go to San Francisco to kick off a four-game series with the Giants tonight. Game time is set for 10:45 pm Eastern, which means that I will not watch this game. I will go to bed before Noah Syndergaard throws the first pitch. I am old now, and two things give me great pleasure in this world: Baseball and falling asleep at a reasonable hour. Pray, though, that I never get so old that I start agreeing with fuckers like Rand Paul. +

Mets baseball tonight, and a change-up for Caffeinated Jam, sort of

Good of holy God, I looked at the team rankings across both the AL and NL; the Yankees have second place behind the Dodgers, while the Mets have 24th place. The Mets don’t have an awful record, but they won’t see the postseason unless they turn things around quick this summer. The fiancee jokes that we may find it in our budget to get great seats at Citi Field in September if things keep going the way they’re going. I don’t want to believe, but my head knows — and my wallet hopes, I guess — that she’s right.

No music today, on what might be the precipice of change for this site; I have enjoyed writing Caffeinated Jam as a blog for indie and DIY bands over the past year, but I want to write about other things as well. I have never found myself good at writing with any specific focus, and if I can tie in food, baseball, travel, and where to find the best bodega or halal stand in any neighborhood of New York into these articles, then I will. It doesn’t suit me to become a one-trick pony. It doesn’t suit anyone. We all must embrace versatility in this modern life; the world ain’t as simple as it used to be. Not that I knew a simple world, anyway.

I’ve sworn up and down these past couple of days because of the general racism of this country, which you see spouted from the current Administration and its leader’s mouth. Someone on Twitter pointed out that, yes, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez should go back to the country she came from and fix the problems before trying to fix America, but that just means taking the train up to the Bronx. Therein lies the stupidity and racism of the president; he attacks progressive politicians like AOC and Ilhan Omar and Ro Khanna because they aren’t white, but he forgets that they not only come from here and have citizenship, some of them grew up in his own backyard.

You as the President of the United States can disagree with folks in Congress on political issues, sure. But when you in a racist tirade say they should go back to their own countries to fix the issues there, and they’re United States citizens, you own yourself so hard that you should beg for impeachment.

To all you who say, “Well, now it’s clear that the President’s a racist”: It’s been clear. We’ve seen Trump’s ass shit racist commentary from before day one. From working with his dad to keep black families out of Trump developments, to wishing death upon the Central Park Five, to spewing birther claims against Barack Obama, to the white nationalist rhetoric he continues to utter throughout his tenure in the Oval Office, how much more proof of his racism do we need? On top of all of his other misogynistic and abusive and fearmongering speech, when will people who have power to do something about him realize that he — and anyone who supports him — does not have the nature of someone who should lead any organization, especially a nation?

When I start to get more personal — and by proxy political — is about when my writing takes a turn for the worse, and when I decide that no one cares about my opinions, and when I abandon a writing outlet for good. Hell, it’s why I have so many unfilled notebooks from high school, and from college, and from the last month or so. But Twitter can only do so much for me, and sometimes I need to go off and talk about how much I can’t stand the vitriolic policies coming out Washington, along with how people who disagree with those policies — well-meaning people — allow them to become law. I need run-on sentences, I need repetition, I need room to ramble. You need to understand just how ramped up I get when I sit down to write. For example, I’ve had three cups of coffee today, with thanks to the new cold brew machine the day job office folks have installed in the break room.

So Caffeinated Jam will continue, but from time to time it won’t focus on music. Sometimes I’ll get into the weeds a bit when it comes to my other interests. If you don’t like baseball, or a recipe for quick crock pot Mexican chicken, or my wistful memories of an old shawarma stand on the corner of 23rd and Lexington, I can’t stop you from finding entertainment elsewhere. But know this: Caffeinated Jam will always stand for the rights and the good of all folks. But if you don’t think you like that idea, then we can’t say that we like the idea of you much, either. To hell with ICE and to hell with the raids, and to hell with all of you who don’t think it’s like the goddamned Gestapo marching through the streets of America.

Tonight the Mets play the first of two games against the Twins in Minnesota; the AL Central first-ranked Twins may pose a greater challenge to the Mets than the NL East last-place Marlins did this past weekend. Against the Twins’ pitcher Michael Pineda, Steven Matz will throw in place of Zack Wheeler; the latter has shoulder fatigue and won’t see play until July 23rd at the earliest. I see a bleak next few nights ahead for us fans of the blue-and-orange, but I have a hope in my heart that hurts for victories tonight and tomorrow. Sometimes you stare up at the face of a titan, and if you grit your teeth hard enough and make yourself look really big, you can see them eye to eye. +