Clarence Williams III, Dawn dolls in a playhouse

"In addition to Mod Squad, Aaron Spelling and I picked up two Walter Brennan shows, Tycoon and The Guns of Will Sonnett (a fair sized hit)." --Make Room for Danny, 262

In the stray preoccupations which wool gather at 4:20 AM eastern standard time, as if I was reverting to form to get ready for work at the defunct Institute to whose demise I contributed, catching 3/4 ths of Peggy Lipton's vulnerability, vaguely recalled, if Danny Thomas and Aaron Spelling truly knew anything about counter culture dynamics, it isn't evident in this stock formula series, with Richard Dreyfuss, fresh from his celebrity pairing with Amy Irving, or about to head into it, providing us with the most well mannered recital of a psychotic imaginable-- yes, yes, cable was in its infancy and the FCC and terms of service are staple gun muzzles wiring our jaws, but all Squad did for its audience was cater to appearances, to the point even those sorely scored could feel commiseration for Williams' afro standing at attention.

One of the best serials in the 70's might be Columbo, but that would take Levinson and Falk's morality battle out of context. Aquarius may taken great care with its time capsule authenticity, and may even be more accurate in its undercurrents, as we owe so much to the golden state, but the Manson family was its own thing, analogous to the Mormons under Joseph Smith as being not quite kosher, which it isn't. Manson's followers, being really, really out on a limb, nevertheless was a reversion to an earlier American period of denominational instability under the Protestant tent. As a reformer, Luther certainly never intended to fragment Christianity into shards, but he also didn't do it any favors when it comes to transplantation in the United States. Off the top of my head, I cannot think of a series that really encapsulates my place and time as it was without going off a cliff. All in the Family turned a veteran icon into a cult hero, but Archie was a comic book exaggeration, as was the Jeffersons. Eight is Enough merely reigned in the impossible stupidity of the Brady Bunch. I'd pick The Six Million Dollar Man if I had to, but this, again, contextualizes another set of anxieties, apt, but miscued, since our fusions to technology are playing out a bit differently. We're not augmenting ourselves into a super-race, merely ensuring our essential human extinction. Then again, maybe it's Happy Days, if we take the notion of period piece nostalgia out of it.

A better ad in: The Partridge Family. As a series, it was soft folk song and dance, but it hit the right tenor for significant changes in the nuclear family

Our films, here and there, do a better job, and The Driver, though its minimalism is rigorous and circumscribed, is one of them. 

Though golden state vibes are not particularly auspicious to spastic's sentiments, she very cautiously explored Yabberz, and their no-over-the-line fury is reasonable. This doesn't mean I'm tamed, trust me. I know physically I am on thin ice, and economically I'm overwhelmed. I'm simply not a Caesar alpha with his skill set and ability to command an insurrection; to wit, Danielle Allen has an op-ed in Wapo which I'm not reading where she makes a clarion call about Trump's threat to democracy. That is an exaggeration on her part, but in truth of fact, Americans don't know what they mean by a free society. If the first amendment can't withstand what Donald is tapping into, then we aren't an attributable experiment in free exercise.

To the progressive mindset, I've freely admitted I am, within varying flavors, a homophobic bigot, without necessarily vying for a piece of Coulter's turf, since I've been too much inside of a bubble which most of you aren't, as a quadriplegic. Whether I go "too far," for Blogger or anyone else, one, it doesn't matter. Richard Spencer plays up ethnographic separation for money and I'm too old to play follow the leader for a supremacist who would no more lift a finger to get me out of here and let me enjoy my last years anymore than anyone else. I'm damned, rage or acceptance notwithstanding. For Trudy Richardson to deploy HHS to threaten me with Inglis House, after the battle for my life, is something maybe you cannot grasp. I've been 30 years under Presby and seen countless tenants forcibly placed. My intellectual acumen was supposed to withstand this. Trudy didn't scare me, trust me. All she did was make me measure death by cop against my other options.

Elastic Smokescreens

Bad couple of survival days following my May 9th post, but I feel better now, discounting indigestion from the largest dose of Aleve that I am willing to take, which is brand name naproxen rather than ibuprofen, all the while tapping a pencil against the cranium, how am I going to save my article, but I'll ride out trying certain sources until next week. Perhaps my age is not going to allow me any redemption of misery, I can only speculate, especially when it takes me over an hour to do lateral transfers and dress, and then have another half hour of difficulty engaging in the reverse from joint pain, and overtiring. Back when I spayed my anger at the pedestrian suburbanites in the P&W Speakeasy, at least I still had the strength to fuel the outcry, and my willingness to fight. Of course I'm weakening, what else can I expect? But if I am unsafe doing transfers and hand grips that are second nature, then I made those pedestrian emerging writers and authors fear or ostracize or engage in contention with me for naught, and between 98 and 02 and now, I still want the same things, to salvage a career, better quality of autonomy, and to cite Carole King, recording artist of my youth, whose Tapestry I once knew by heart, but it's too late baby now, it's too late, aside from the fact that Obama has sunk another notch in my wilting support for him, and yes, you knew I would write that, just as if I could get past the fact that Romney sickens me, his preparatory school behavior actually has moved him up the ladder. Why? Honesty, just like Martin Peretz and his difficult attitude with Muslims. We're all bigots, and while table manners are what makes social group dynamics interesting, I do believe that prevarication has taken progressives too far, and there will be backlash, maybe not in my lifetime, but it will occur, I am nearly certain.

The issue, however, is not marriage equality, but Obama's prevarication; he is getting as bad, nearly, as Fern Markowitz, my favorite Jewish lesbian. Obama knows full well that federal supremacy goes back to Chief Justice John Marshall, and a patchwork of states not honoring the marriage licenses issued by other states isn't sustainable, and I doubt the current Chief Justice, Roberts, is going to rupture the edifice by which Marshall made SCOTUS a co-equal branch of government.

Because I do believe in a citizen's civic responsibility, I am conflicted about my vote this November. Abstaining is a cop out, but we don't seem to have many other options. I am debating a write-in.