Durden Issues Trigger Warning for Perpetually Offended

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

Pussy-Hat Wearing Politically Correct Democrat Liberal Rino Socialist Fascist Commies (or P-HWPCDLRSFC, for short), will soon be issued a Trigger Warning on the cover of Angela K. Durden's next three books.

Yes, ladies and germs, since the P-HWPCDLRSFC love Trigger Warnings so much, and your friendly Citizen Journalist aims to please, I will be doing just that in three books of long-form humor to be released consecutively starting in 2018.

By "long-form" I mean writing that has more than one paragraph, may or may not include a joke-setup-punchline per se but will still make you smile, think, and laugh out loud — unless you don't have the energy, then you will LALOTI*, but to the writer even LALOTI is a win.

Here are the books' covers in development now. Interiors are being edited and designed, too.

Based on columns I've written here on Righting on the Wall, along with material I've written for other outlets, the sections will include:

1. Getting Political (But not how you think.)
2. Tech-no-RAM-o, or Up Yours, Citizen. 01010000 01110010 01101111 01110100 01100101 01110011 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101001 01110100 01100001 01101110 01110011 00100000 01101101 01100001 01101110 01101001 01110000 01110101 01101100 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01101101 01100001 01110011 01110011 01100101 01110011
3. #CrunkNewsNetwork and Other Fake News 
4. The Psychosis of Political Correctness
5. Opinion, Still Varied
6. and Other People

Some are updated with UPDATES. I've also written new material by way of introductions to the books. Can you say "over the top fun"?

The books' titles are, in order of release:

1. Dancing at the Waffle House — and other stories Neal Boortz wishes he had told.
2. Nagging Women and Clueless Men — and other stories Rush Limbaugh wishes he had the guts to tell.
3. Mind your manners. Comprende? — and other stories Sean hannity should have on his really big show. 

*LALOTI: Laugh a little on the inside.

Harry and Meghan, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

by Angela K. Durden
Citizen Journalist. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. 

Harry and Meghan

Sitting in a tree.

K-I-S-S-

I-N-G.

First came lust.

Then came woebegone.

Then came Harry with a

pretty new bonbon.

You've seen it before. The predatory female with the Come-to-Mama dominatrix oozing out of her, and the royal heir du jour drooling all over himself as he kneels before her in submission, twinkle in his eye, collar around his neck, and says, "I've been a ba-a-a-a-ad boy. You must teach me a lesson."

We who are left to pick up the pieces are the ones who must watch in horror as the female rolls over the heir, his family, and their reputations like the Wermacht ran over Europe. It is never pretty.

But Harry, fifth in line to the throne, doesn't have the weight of imminent kingship waiting in the wings for him, so he's always had the luxury and freedom to be the wild child. What does it matter if he picks a mate who will screw him out of millions?

It doesn't — and here's why.

It's not the first time this has happened. The royal family, knowing well their predilections and lineage, have policies and procedures in place to handle these sorts of things.

Even Harry's mother learned that. For all she was the People's Princess — beloved and popular, a strong position she manipulated well — she's the one who had to move out of town and find herself a new sugar daddy.

Here's how the Harry-Meghan thing will play out.

Much like his forebears, Harry likes pain. So he'll make one disastrous marriage, kids will come. Divorce to follow. He'll jet around the world in a boink fest wilder than he's previously done. After all, his ego has been hurt, and the waiting royal wannabees have auditions to attend.

But then he'll get to be around fifty or so. He'll be tired. Ennui will set in. He will find himself a great second wife where true love will exist. Just before he goes into that long goodnight, she'll hold his hand and he'll say, "If only I had found you when I was younger." And she'll say, "It's best we didn't meet earlier because I would have killed you." He'll barely chuckle as she adds, "We met at the right time." Then he'll smile and die happy.

I won't be around to see that, but I don't have to be to know it will happen. It's the way of the world.

Even Wallis Simpson, Harry's great great uncle's American divorcée wife, a dominatrix if we ever saw one, mellowed at the end. When Edward died she wondered why he had given up so much (the throne) for so little (her).

A Jazz Musician's OODA Loop

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

As longtime readers know, Angela is a songwriter and, of late, turning into a singer who performs in front of total strangers who actually smile at and clap for her without getting paid to do so. This has been a hoot, but that is not what this column is about though it is connected.

This column is about OODA Loops. In military parlance, an OODA Loop is a quick succession of thought and action that defines the decision cycle when under fire. OODA stands for: Observe. Orient. Decide. Act.

Specifically, this column is about OODA Loops as they are deployed in a Jazz musician's decision cycle. That is to say, how he will choose to whom he shall give it good to tonight.

There are several reasons Angela rarely wears dresses anymore. The main reason is that when Angela puts her gams on display, men tend to stutter and their eyes glaze over and they can't walk straight. Yes, Angela knows her legs should be insured for a million dollars, but Angela cannot afford the premium.

Actually, Angela does not like her legs, has no clue why men react like that, and tends to thinks her gams are not so pretty. So, while Angela's ego sure does like men's reactions to them, Angela gets tired of not having conversations with men so she wears  pants. 

Back to the OODA Loop of the Jazz musician.

Anyway, Angela was going to be singing her new song Crying Puddles and, given the topic of the song, thought it would be appropriate to wear a dress that night to fit into the song and so Angela did, adding to that outfit hose and heels.

Waiting her turn to go onstage, Angela was sitting at the back bar at the venue when who walks by but "Frank", not his real name.

"Frank" is a very well known Jazz musician who plays piano and drums. Angela has never been interested in "Frank" and "Frank" has always sensed that fact, if not flat out known, and so has never tried to put the moves on Angela for which she is extremely grateful.

But "Frank" has always only seen Angela in pants. That is to say, he has never seen a display of her gams and so on this night, with Angela sitting at the bar on a tall chair and her legs crossed prettily, encased in suntan hose thus accentuating the positives even more, "Frank" walked by.

And there, in front of God and everybody, "Frank" perfectly executed a two-second OODA loop. Here's how that happened.

Observed: "Frank" saw a pair of legs he liked.

Oriented: "Frank" immediately turned and headed toward the legs.

Decided: "Frank" looked up to see who owned the legs, saw Angela, and said to himself, "Oh, hell no."

Acted: "Frank" immediately turned and walked away.

Perfect execution of a Jazz Musician's OODA Loop. Angela admired it so much that she immediately laughed out loud. Nobody knew why Angela was laughing. But, you see, Angela knew what she was seeing and happily said to herself, "Column material!" She can't make this stuff up, y'all. She is a Citizen Reporter after all.

Practice makes perfect.

Let's be clear: "Frank" and Angela like each other perfectly fine as colleagues, so conversation between the two happen often enough. Six years ago, "Frank" once bragged to Angela that he sure gets lots of the good stuff because he is a touring Jazz musician. That bored Angela. "Frank" understood immediately and never brought it up again.

He is not a stupid man. Nor is he slow.

In any case, "Frank" has had many years to practice his OODA Loop technique and boy-oh-boy has it ever been perfected. But these days, "Frank" is in a bit of a quandary. One night here recently he was frank with Angela about his growing dissatisfaction with offers from firm-fleshed young women.

He said, "Angela, as you well know, I get offered the good stuff all the time. But now, when these young women offer to do me, well, I just shudder. They are so...so...boring."

"Frank" just turned fifty years old. It's one thing to say "I'm forty-nine." It is quite another to say, "I'm fifty."

Yes, Angela can sympathize with him.

Chess: Perpetual Student, Old Boy, and Me.

by Angela K. Durden
Citizen Journalist. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. 


I once had an opportunity to go to the "Festival of the Book" in Charlottesville, Virginia, but I didn't want to go alone. I was still married at the time and, for reasons too complicated to get into now, insisted my husband, a non-reader, go with me.

It would be an adventure, I told him.
We would take the train, I cajoled him.
"But, books?" he said.
So I lied. "Look, I heard somebody was going to have a car show close by."
He perked up. "Oh, in that case, I'm in."

We never saw a car show, but I did manage to drink seven Black Russians at a bar one night and did not get a hangover, much to the surprise of my husband who has seen me get drunk more than once from a virgin Daiquiri. But this story is not about the demise of my marriage or about Al Kee Haul. It is about chess.

So, there we were. Sitting out on the sidewalk in front of a cafe having lunch. We were surrounded by people the likes of which I had never seen up close and personal. Most were playing chess. The only time I had ever played chess was in sixth grade. I didn't understand the game then. I do now.

At the time, I could not wrap my mind around it at all. And here, delivered to me, was an opportunity to find out more. Perusing the crowd, I settled on two men out of the many. One had long hair hanging halfway down his back, his male pattern baldness studiously ignored. He was around thirty-five and was, what I came to find out, a Perpetual Student (PS). PS was condescending to play with an old boy (OB), a student of about twenty, who was obviously en thrall to PS.

My husband said, "Angie, do not go bothering them."

He said this to me because I must have said out loud that I was going to go find out about chess. I ignored my husband, and boy, am I glad I did. I sidled over to the table and asked permission to watch the game. "I don't understand the game and would like to," said I. OB was too afraid to answer, but PS, thinking news of his playing prowess had spread far and wide, did not look at me but with a graciousness bordering on surly allowed that I could observe.

They set up the board. No sooner had they begun than OB said, "Damn! How did you do that?"

PS set the board back up, replayed the seven moves of the last game while opining and teaching using a bunch of words I did not understand. OB nodded like he got it, and the next game began.

I confess it was difficult to hold back my questions after that first game, but hold back I did, and within twenty minutes, PS beat OB in at least seventy-five games. They were playing like lightning. Finally I spoke up.

I said to OB, "How is that you aren't finishing the game, but you know you've lost?"

OB's eyed got wide, and he waited for God to speak because that got the attention of PS who said, "HOW? HOOOWW? Because it is obvious, that's hOOOWwww."

Two tables over, Husband was pretending he didn't know me as little ol' silly me said, "Yes, but...how? You see, it seems to me that there are more moves to make, so why," turning to OB, "do you quit?"

And there was the crux of it: OB believed it was over, so it was. 

PS was happy to have him believe that because then his reputation as Chess God was intact. PS knew how to win the game: You f*ck with the weak-minded.

I daresay PS' reputation as Chess God was only good on that sidewalk, and I bet he knew it. Like a Chinese Maoist to an innocent tourist, he invites people to his kingdom and says, "Come. See the wisdom of me, the Chess God, but no pictures, no video, and for all that is holy, no questions."

And here I was, in the role of the Ugly American, sitting at Chess God's table, and inviting insurrection by ignoring rules I didn't know existed. Which, even if I had known the rules, I would have questioned why I should ignore them.

PS spluttered and fumed as he tried to explain to me that there were only so many ways to move and that it was a foregone conclusion that, based on Famous Game from 1927 played by Genius of the Year against Genius of the Previous Year, these seven moves in this order would naturally end up with OB losing because wasn't that how...

And he went on professorially attempting to humiliate me with his vast knowledge of All Things Historical About Chess Games and Players, dumbing it down so that it became All Things Historical About Chess Games and Players 101.

I graciously submitted to his attempt to humiliate me. If PS had only known how pitiful his attempt was compared to real humiliation I'd received over the years, he would have shut up. But he didn't and I continued.

"But," said I to PS, "all what you said assumes that OB would make those same moves."

PS nodded, somewhat happy that I got the gist of what he was saying.

Further messing with his mojo, I said to PS, "But what if OB doesn't? What if he makes a move you don't expect? Or, your mind is elsewhere and you don't process the meaning of the move he makes and you change strategy and leave yourself open? See? Now you have a game that's exciting."

OB turned to PS and said, "Yeah. She's right. You could miss something."

PS withered OB with a glance, but OB didn't wither as fast as he should have, so PS turned to me and growled, "Why are you still here?"

I smiled and, taking my leave, said in my most gracious Southern drawl, "I do thank you so very much for allowing me to learn more about the game."

I have one more story about playing chess and how I screwed with...but, you what? I'll save that for another time.

Darkest Hour: The Movie. A Review. A Must-See.

by Angela K. Durden
Citizen Journalist. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. 

Those who don't know history are bound to repeat it. Those who do know history are bound to watch helplessly as those who don't know it, repeat it. But those who do know history know that, bound as they are to watch, they will be called in to fix it.

And why is that? I'll tell you. It's because of the differing skill sets.

The former are lovers, not fighters. Their sensibilities are upset when surrounded by problems. They want problems to go away, and they think that getting along and giving love will magically make that happen. In many instances, they are right.

But they are wrong when it comes to tyrants and bullies and, damn it, they can't tell the difference between the challenges regular people bring and the evil of the Evil. Next thing you know, they are in thrall to vibrant personalities who promise them the moon, only to find themselves tortured, killed, or worse — having to live under tyrannies they could never imagine. The former never learn that lesson.

And that's okay because we want the love they have to give.

The latter, they see it coming. They will give the evil person enough rope to hang themselves, that is, they will allow them to prove themselves evil, but when the time comes for action those who know history will meet  the forces of evil with the forces of good.

Those who know history are willing to make the tough decisions and take the unpopular road. They know these tough and unpopular actions will make them look bad to the lovers and givers. But they do it anyway because it must be done. Yes, they often doubt themselves, even seem to waiver, but they don't let that doubt lead them into catatonic inaction.

Those who know history are willing to give the finger to dictators. Well, this is what happened in World War II with Churchill and Hitler. Darkest Hour does a fine job of showing exactly what I wrote above.

My favorite scene is when Churchill, thinking he's giving a V for Victory, does this instead:

Screensnip from the movie trailer below. 

Winston is handed a big problem, and then is being forced to enter into a negotiated peace with Hitler. He is accused of being a war monger because he won't do it. He doubts himself, but not for long. The scene on the Tube where he takes the temperature of the people is brilliant.

Gary Oldman first caught my attention in Léon: The Professional, then later in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy in which he was brilliant and in which I thought he would not be able to top himself.

Ladies and gentlemen, Oldman has topped himself.

It is important to remember that we are living in a time when the forces of good are necessarily doing what must be done. I'm doing my part where I stand: I research. I write.

This movie reminded me of how tough that fight is going to get.

Oh no you didn't, Charles Krauthammer. Punctuation matters.

by Angela K. Durden
Citizen Journalist. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. 


Charles Krauthammer won a Pulitzer Prize. Which means that enough somebodies somewhere thought he was a good writer. I admit he's pretty good.

But I have to confess to you here, today, at this moment as you read it, whenever that moment is, that Mr. Krauthammer has let me down.

The subtitle of his book Things That Matter is in desperate need of a comma or other punctuation mark, has a dropped word, or it has a major typo. What do you think?

The subtitle reads as follows:

Three Decades of Passions, Pastimes and Politics.

If Charles was going for alliteration, and he meant he was writing about three separate subjects, then he should have put a comma after Pastimes so that it would read thusly:

Three Decades of Passions, Pastimes, and Politics.

But what did Charles really mean? Could it have been:

Three Decades of Passions. Pastimes and Politics.

or

Three Decades of Passions, and Pastimes and Politics.
(This implies that Pastimes and Politics are one entity.)

or

Three Decades of Passions: Pastimes and Politics.
(This implies that his passions are Pastimes and Politics.)

I am so confused — and traumatized! — I don't think I'll be able to finish the book.

Oh, Charles, Charles, Charles! Even Brody (not my dog, therefore I cannot control his opinion) has a negative opinion about the Oxford comma, and he only has one eye that can be offended. 

Look at him, Charles. Look. At. Him! Does he look happy to you? Charles, Brody needs you to better pay attention to these things. I need you to better pay attention to these things. I'm a woman, so you might not listen to me, but who can turn down  a request from such a sad-eyed dog? Only the heartless, Charles. Please tell me you aren't heartless. Please.

More Color-Block Fazebook Posts by Angela's Witty Friends

by Angela K. Durden
Citizen Journalist. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. 

TRIGGER WARNING FOR P-HWPCDLRSFC*.

*P-HWPCDLRSFC = Pu

ssy-Hat Wearing Politically Correct Democrat Liberal RINO Socialist Fascist Commie

Opt-Out: On becoming an organ farm.

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

Edward M. "Heir Ted" Kennedy, Junior
said that nobody asked those on the transplant
list what they thought about having to wait.
Therefore, according to his logic, the Gubment
doesn't have to ask us if we want to give
our organs or not. 

Ted Kennedy — junior, that is — is proving he's a good little fascist as he attempts to force US citizens onto a Gubment-mandated organ farm.

Individual rights only matter for the group he has designated as needy. As reported by statnews.com, Kennedy said: “I knew it would be controversial,” said Kennedy. “But nobody asked anyone who was on the transplant waiting list what they thought,” he added. 

What is "it" Heir Ted is referencing? Why it is the process by which the State owns your body parts unless you Opt-Out of donating your organs at death. In other words, by default you will donate your organs at death.

Of course, in Heir Ted's letter to the editor of the New Haven Register, he cites EU and compassion as the two reasons his home state should lead the way; two things guaranteed to get every P-HWPCDLRSFC* to put that plan into action:

"...Over 30 countries around the world, including 24 European nations, have “presumed consent” or “opt-out” policies, resulting in very high organ donation rates. Connecticut can lead the way — and save lives — with an easier and more compassionate organ donation policy." 

We know how well the EU is doing on everything else, so obviously they are totally right about opt-out organ donation. As proof that it is the best way to serve with failed or failing organs, fascist members of the Gubment have decided their needs come before freedoms the Constitution guarantees.

According to the online report referenced above, someone who lives in Heir Ted's jurisdiction wrote in a letter to the New Haven Register that the bill “insinuates that after our death, our bodies are by default the property of the state unless we have previously ‘opted out.’”

A 2012 study found that organ donation rates are “typically exceeding 90 percent in opt-out countries and failing to reach even 15 percent in opt-in countries.” Sounds good, right? Well, here are several reasons why that happens: Laziness in reading the forms. Inability to understand what opt-out means. But mostly peer pressure as quoted here from this linked study: 

In the opt-in case, the question posed to potential donors is something akin to, “Do you want to put yourself forward as an exceptional altruist, someone who acts for the good of others under circumstances when only particularly virtuous fellow citizens are likely to follow suit?”

In an opt-out context, in contrast, the implicit question is something akin to, “Do you want to stand out as an exceptional misanthrope, someone who fails to step forward and do one’s duty as most good citizens and community members do?”

Our contention is consistent with a long tradition in social psychology that emphasizes the importance of subjective meaning and the degree to which individual and collective interpretations of prevailing circumstances, and not the objective circumstances themselves, determine people’s behavior.

If it works better and we get what we need, then so what?

Two reasons. Constitutional-guaranteed freedoms and real science. We know what the Constitution guarantees. But real science says that, “In order to be an organ donor, you have to die in a way that keeps oxygenated blood flowing through the organ,” explained United Network for Organ Sharing spokesperson Anne Paschke. “But only 2 percent of people die that way.”

But does that matter to our dear fascist Heir Ted? Will he raise the issue as long as it gets him headlines and power? We wait and see. However, there are those who will push against it.

*P-HWPCDLRSFC = Pussy-Hat Wearing Politically Correct Democrat Liberal RINO Socialist Fascist Commie.

Heads, they be exploding.

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.


As you may already know, in 2018 I will be releasing a series of books whose covers will include this:

I will tell you that thus far, one P-HWPCDLRSFC* has already ignored the warning. You see, the first book is with the editor now. The editor, who is not a P-HWPCDLRSFC, and knowing his girlfriend is a P-HWPCDLRSFC, chose not to say anything to her about the book. But she saw him working on it and decided to ask to read it.

She got about fifteen pages into the book when — BOOM! — her head exploded and she got furious at me and my editor, her boyfriend. She said, "I can't believe you're..." — oh, you will like this — "...editing a book that picks on Liberals."

My editor proceeded to tell me about it. My first thought: He ain't getting none for awhile. My second thought was: She'll be gone toot-sweet because one thing I know about my editor, he won't become a P-HWPCDLRSFC just to get some.

As an astute reader, I know you are asking, "Yeah, but, didn't she know he wasn't a P-HWPCDLRSFC, like her?"

Answer: Yes, she did. But like all P-HWPCDLRSFCs, Girlfriend had only been focused on what Boyfriend could do for her. She ignored his non-Liberal ways because to do so was to her advantage, or she would sayd, "Oh, isn't that sweet?" when he would opine about current events in such a way as supported the Constitution and disagreed with her P-HWPCDLRSFC thought processes.

.

But at least I've avoided one lawsuit since she clearly ignored the opening page of the book which includes the full trigger warning:

STOP! DO NOT READ THIS BOOK IF YOU ARE A MEMBER OF THE PERPETUALLY OFFENDED GROUP KNOWN AS THE Pussy-Hat Wearing Politically Correct Democrat RINO Liberal Socialist Fascist Commies, otherwise known via its acronym of P-HWPCDRLSFC. By reading this book of opinions, you hereby waive your rights to sue the publisher, the author and/or her children and/or estate, any and/or all book stores and/or street vendors and/or libraries who are selling or otherwise providing a copy of this book. If you read this book, whether or not you bought it, and if your feelings get hurt upon that reading, it will be clear you ignored the awesomely designed graphic containing a clear TRIGGER WARNING FOR THE PERPETUALLY OFFENDED included redundantly on the cover, and chose, AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, to give up those rights and any and all recourse at law for getting a monetary settlement of any kind, including a refund for the purchase price as the publisher believes in the concept of 01100010 01110101 01111001 01100101 01110010 00100000 01100010 01100101 01110111 01100001 01110010 01100101. 

Stay tuned: Coming in 2018

*P-HWPCDLRSFC: Pussy-Hat Wearing Politically Correct Democrat Liberal RINO Socialist Fascist Commie.

Another "Squirrel!" Moment: The psychosis of political correctness

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

Again, the P-HWPCDLRSFC* crowd focuses on stuff that doesn't matter. Oh, what a waste of my time.







*P-HWPCDLRSFC: Pussy-hat Wearing Politically Correct Democrat Liberal RINO Socialist Fascist Commie

The Angst of the Cartoon Character

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

Do you remember Jessica Rabbit's famous line? "I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way."

That got me to thinking about all these other cartoon characters who have no say so in their destinies. They have no say so in anything about themselves. Their appearance. What words come out of their mouths. Nothing. They live and die by the will of whole committees of people. 

For the love of God, where are poor cartoon characters' Free Will and Right To Self-Determination? Oh, the angst they must go through as so well shown and sneaked by Jessica into the film "Who Killed Roger Rabbit?"

I bring this up because before too long — and you mark my words on this — marching in the streets for cartoon characters' rights will be disenfranchised, pussy-hat wearing females [DPHWFs] (it's always females that gets this crap started, isn't it?) and pussy whipped males [PWMs] (who mostly fail to get into DPHWF's panties and so are trying their damnedest to make Brownie points with DPHWFs).

You're saying, "Angela, now you've gone too far in your future telling. There ain't no way."

But I tell you, while DPHWFs and their PWMs don't mind marching for the right to kill unborn babies by the millions while forcing you and me to pay for it, they will steal [they say rescue] a puppy napping on a fleece bed from off a porch because they don't believe it is in a safe environment, and they will take copyright infringement cases to the courts on behalf a foreign monkeys.

"Oh, Angela. Nobody's ever taken a copyright infringement case to court on behalf of a monkey."

Oh. Yes. They. HAVE! Read this.

So, no, I tell you, I am not going too far in this matter of cartoon characters. Mark my words. When the DPHWFs and the PWMs run out of things to march for, and that day is here I tell ya, just remember that marches for the rights of the Cartoon Character is being plotted now.

You read it here first, folks.

You'll thank me later.

Sincerely,

Angela K. Durden
Your Citizen Journalist and Future-Teller

Your links for today

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.


Only with constant diligence and unwavering attention to facts can freedom be allowed to remain. When top officials in US, UK, and other countries push policies of acquiescence and support by given succor and aid to those who seek to destroy freedom, then we can rightly call these people traitors.

MUST READ: See Something Say Nothing — A Homeland Security Officer Exposes the Government's Submission to Jihad. Philip Haney

DHS: Implementing 9/11 Commission Recommendations.


YouTube video from the Arab Spring: Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood leader gets crowd to vow to march as jihad martyrs to destroy Israel.

We shall end with some good remarks about getting rid of burdensome regulations. Quote from remarks by "The Hammer:

And instead of eliminating two old regulations, for every one new regulation we have eliminated 22 — 22 — that’s a big difference. We aimed for two for one, and, in 2017, we hit twenty-two for one.

And some good quotes in support of the Constitution and freedom, human rights, and the Bill of rights.

Our great country was forged in the fires of a revolution to overthrow the rule of a tyrant, by a free people who understood the fundamental truth that liberty is best secured when the state’s power is carefully limited. From the Declaration of Independence, to the Constitution, and through the Bill of Rights, our country and our people have always known the true, God-given nature of liberty and the ability of law to safeguard it against the state. For 226 years, the final piece of this freedom-sustaining bulwark ‑‑ the Bill of Rights ‑‑ has formed the bedrock of the constitutional protections every American holds dear as their birthright.
On Bill of Rights Day, we recognize the importance of the first 10 Amendments to our Constitution to protecting our liberty and freedom against the inevitable encroachment of government. Our Founding Fathers understood the threat of expansive, omnipresent government.

Atomic Charge Wallet holds everything you own.

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

One morning recently, flipping around looking for a no-spin-zone on current events and being unsuccessful, I again happened upon a commercial for The Atomic Charge Wallet.

But on this morning I must have had on my Citizen Journalist hat. For those who do not know, the hat has a built-in BS meter, and on this particular morning the hat got busy prodding me to pay attention.

The voice over guy said, "The Atomic Charge Wallet holds everything you own."

Whoa. Hold yer horses. Get out of town. What the hay-hay? Everything? Man, that's great. Now I can really downsize. Of course, it will put out of business all the storage facilities in the world that take up massive amounts of ground. That will lessen the tax base which will mean New York and New Jersey will now have a good reason they cannot fix their potholes. See? They can say, "Look, if the Atomic Charge Wallet would only give up their market share of storage space, then we could fix these potholes."

Doing my job properly as your Citizen Journalist, of course I went to their website to see if that messaging was repeated. I could not find it there, but there were two more patently fake promises, making a total of three.

The first promise — that wallet can hold everything I own — let us know that, obviously, this is a wallet that should be sold to tiny people living in a locker somewhere visited occasionally by men in black. So let's forget that one and call it what it is: Written by an idiot who didn't think.

But the second one can't be true. I mean, do they realize how many pictures and credit cards people have? I know the economy is still tough for folks, but more and more, as we move back to being a cash-based society, still the amount of cash people are squirreling away is huge. It can't fit into that little wallet along with everything else.

And the third promise is clear that this wallet can — not might, not may, not probably — can withstand the toughest drops and shocks. Not some of the toughest, not a few of the toughest. No. It said the toughest drops and shocks.

I've got a Smith & Wesson Bodyguard .380 that will say otherwise, and it's doesn't even have the toughest shock that can be delivered.

The lawsuits are coming, Atomic Charger Wallet people. You need to hire a real writer who can help you avoid them. And by "real writer" I mean one who understands the fine points of words. Call me. 404.358.0951. I'll hook you up with the law-suit avoiding language.

"Back Matter" matters for The Most Brilliant Woman in the World.

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

In 2018 I will be releasing three new books, the contents of which have been written over a period of two years, informed as they are by a lifetime of being The Most Brilliant Woman in the World (TMBWW), which began when I was a mere child of thirty months.

TMBWW is not Hillary Clinton. We all know her friends have identified her as "the smartest woman in the room", a title I will graciously allow her to have for two reasons. One: We're never going to be in the same room together, and since the use of the word room is limited to a finite space and small stretch of time, I can, two: Be gracious as the victor and allow a small win for the vanquished. 

Although, frankly, Hillary is like a camel getting its nose under the tent. She will take that small victory as proof that she is wanted and will continue to put on grand airs. Which is why she must continually be "kicked in the nose" like the camel who wants to get inside the tent and take over the bed. That is to say, she must be reminded of her place. 

I am able and willing to do that. But let's get back to the most important thing and why you are reading this: Me. 

Every book must have something called "back matter", pieces of marketing and snippets of quotes that, when one picks up a book and looks at the back cover, one reads and believes it is so brilliant one says, "I will invest in this book because it will fulfill its promise of..." whatever that promise is. 

There's a formula to producing back matter that matters. First, you got to have quotes from people that are recognizable to the general reading public. If their name is not known, then at least have a list of titles establishing their bona fides. Known name and impressive title list at the same time? Score!

The second thing is the paragraph that describes the author without repeating what would be anywhere in the interior of the book.

My upcoming books are all in need of back matter. In this, my faithful readers, I would like your opinion on what has been suggested to me as the back matter that matters. Here it is. Please feel free to email me with your opinion. My email address is angeladurden@msn.com. If I do not hear from you, I will assume you believe the back matter that matters works well as written and I will take your silence as a double thumbs-up to proceed.

— — —  BEGIN BACK MATTER THAT MATTERS — — — 

"If I were alive today, I would highly recommend you read this book by Angela K. Durden. It is no brag because it is fact that she is The Most Brilliant Woman in the World. I can say that because as The Most Brilliant Man in the World, at one time, I know excellent humor when I see it. Also, my good friends and faithful readers — Neal, Rush, and Sean — only wish they had the guts to write as she does. If I were alive today, I would be taking her on tour with me. Oh, to see the faces of those ticked-off politicians and social justice warriors when they would hear her opine humorously. Damn, I hate it that I'm dead. But since I am dead, and the world has not had another humorist such as me since that plane crash, I nominate Angela K. Durden to take my place. I am sure you will agree. Please give her your money as your ancestors once gave me theirs. You won't regret it."

Will Rogers

No longer bookable because he's dead, 

but former highly paid actor, performer, 

syndicated columnist, and expert lasso artist

"I apologize to the reader of this book that I, Mark Twain, dead these many long years, have not been given more space to write back matter that matters. So let me be quick for I shan't much have time to say it any other way in this short space: The writings contained in these covers as written by my good friend Angela K. Durden — I would call her that if I was still alive — are a must read for all with any intelligence. Just like the many books and articles I wrote through the years that most politicians publicly smiled at but privately railed against, and which mantle of humorous social commentary was taken up by Will Rogers after I died, Angela K. Durden is today ably filling that huge sucking void. That is, she does a fine job of pointing out the foibles of those who take themselves so seriously they believe they have all the answers for everything and know better than you how to live your life."

Mark Twain

No longer writing because he's dead,

but former world-wide celebrity, writer, 

columnist, author, novelist, and 

world traveler who loved his wife and kids

In one of her many public statements, Angela K. Durden noted that the reason she can get away with saying what she does is because she is a Southern Woman who looks like a school teacher yet knows how to fake sincerity. Prefacing her hard-hitting comments with words and phrases like Sweetie pie, Honey, Sugah, Bless your heart, and Oh, aren't you just the cutest thing ever, Durden throws people off guard with sweet words and smiles, and by giving them the feather because they aren't worth a whole bird.  

Durden does not speak French, Spanish, or Greek, but she proves her love of multi-culturalism by uttering the phrases "Oui, oui, Monsieur", "¡Ándale! ¡Ándale! ¡Arriba! ¡Arriba!", and "Periménete, periménete, periménete ... nai" when the time is right and the situation calls for it. 

Angela K. Durden has been a humorist her entire life. Just ask her mother who always said, "You're joking, right?" or her ex-husband who is well known for saying to her "Oh, you think you're real funny, don't you?", and to friends and relatives "She thinks she's a comedian." (And now you know one reason why he is the ex, though her mother still thinks she jokes.)

 — — —  END BACK MATTER THAT MATTERS — — — 

Your Links For Today

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.


I like it.

Governors and Lt. Governors send letter to Congress about Tax Reform.

Copyright Small Claims Court: Congress being asked to form it.

Hump Day Quickie: Those Who Can and...

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

Roy Moore Loses, but Trump makes the headlines

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

Bet you didn't know the Alabama race was all about Trump, did you? But see the headline from #CrunkNewsNetwork: Not a mention of the winner, Doug Jones. Why is that? Because they don't care who won. They only care that Trump is made to look bad, as if Trump is their problem, which he isn't, but more on that later in the article. See how it works? 

On #CrunkNewsNetwork's politics page, Stephen Collinson wrote:

"The stunning win by Democrat Doug Jones in one of the nation's most conservative states raised questions not just about Trump's political acumen but also over whether his remarkable run, in which he crushed convention and defied political gravity, is beginning, finally, to run out of steam."

However, long before allegations of indecent proposals against Moore, Trump had said Moore would not win. All Trump cared about was keeping a Democrat out of the seat and keeping a Republican in. As we see from this tweet:  

The reason I originally endorsed Luther Strange (and his numbers went up mightily), is that I said Roy Moore will not be able to win the General Election. I was right! Roy worked hard but the deck was stacked against him!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) December 13, 2017

But as Donald "The Hammer" Trump put it gentlemanly and realistically after the race: "Congratulations...a win is a win."

Congratulations to Doug Jones on a hard fought victory. The write-in votes played a very big factor, but a win is a win. The people of Alabama are great, and the Republicans will have another shot at this seat in a very short period of time. It never ends!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) December 13, 2017

But #CrunkNewsNetwork's spin machine got cranked to full rotation when Collinson made it sound like the Moore loss was the last nail in the coffin of the support for Trump from — oh, how did the writer put it? — the "coalition of rural, working-class voters attracted by the President's populist nationalism and evangelicals."

The above statement is a huge insult to citizens, especially when the map of county-by-county wins from the 2016 election are looked at in toto which showed mostly small pockets of voters for Hillary scattered here and there, and only three larger bastions of Liberal thought throwing support behind her.

The reason that statement is a huge insult is because you may actually infer the following if you understand the subtext: The "bonfire-circling masses of barbeque-eating, uneducated, and stupid rednecks gnawing on plugs of tobacco chaw and those others too busy praying to JuuhhEEEzus so that they are easily duped by promises from the snake oil salesman."

What the Pussy-Hat Wearing Politically Correct Democrat RINO Liberal Socialist Fascist Commies do not understand is that Trump was merely a catalyst, and catalysts are simply the spark that starts a larger action. Like a match to fuel. The match doesn't burn the forest, but it does start the fire. And this fire is burning the useless underbrush around the world.

What is that fire?

• Smaller government, 
• fairer tax codes, 
• government playing a smaller role in the individual's life, 
• more individual autonomy, 
• support for small businesses (which carries the bulk of a nation's GDP, by the way), 
• less force of law pushing Pussy-Hat Wearers agendas, 
• and the right for individuals and families to choose how they live their lives and how they will raise and educate their children. 

Therefore, the larger action against Pussy-Hat Wearing Politically Correct Democrat RINO Liberal Socialist Fascist Commies is not Trump. It's the likes of you and me.

And, I shall say it here, the fire also includes many who publicly call themselves Liberal but who I know for a fact are quietly carrying concealed weapons, sending their children to private military, secular, and religious schools, and in other ways are closet Conservatives, Libertarians, and Constitution supporters.

But the Democratic win was not by much as this New York Times graphic shows. So all the crowing about the crushing and stunning defeat and blah, blah, blah, is just that — crowing. And what do crows do when fire comes? They fly away.

Fooled Ya: The Passive-Aggressive Evil of Corporations

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

Let me tell you what I remember about trying to open one of these cans. I remember feeling proud of myself when I pulled out the full spoon and didn't spill any. I also remember sneaking into the kitchen, filling up a big metal spoon, and eating dry that Nestlé Quik sweet chocolaty nectar of the gods.

Oh, man. It melted in my mouth. All that sugar. The memories are fantastic. However...

...when I was in second grade and was a mere child of eight, I learned the hard way about the passive-aggressive evil of corporations. Oh, I could not name it as such at that moment because I was, after all, a mere child. But I named it later with the help of a therapist. It took years of talking it through before we got to the real reason I have a love-hate (or is it love/hate?) relationship with food.

You see, Eight-Years-Old B.T.B.L.* , food was my friend.

True, there was The Great Avocado Incident when I was four and threw a mighty temper tantrum as I fought not to be fed this horrible green stuff that turned out to be quite nice and of which I've been a fan ever since.

And, yes, you will recall The Great Jalapeno Pepper Incident when I was five, but that was all my fault and did not involve any corporations, though it did involve another temper tantrum, this time as I demanded to eat another green thing that I mistook for a sweet avocado and during which my step-father said to my mother who was pleading for leniency toward me, "I'm gonna let her eat the damn thing and let her learn a damn lesson."

And which lesson I learned immediately. While thrashing about the floor in fear of my mortal soul dying I was nevertheless dispassionately watching myself from a corner of the ceiling and saying, "Hmmmm...so he wasn't lying when he said that was not an avocado. Got it." And from that point forward I have never confused the two.

Dear Reader, I know you are saying to yourself, "What has The Avocado Incident and The Great Jalapeno Pepper Incident got to do with corporations and whether or not they are evil and/or passive aggressive?"

They don't have anything to do with it. But just hold yer horses, there. Imma fixin' to tell ya the rest of the story. Sheesh. You can't even let a girl have a little side trip in her story?

So, anyway, Eight-Years-Old B.T.B.L., corporation-provided food was my friend. But A.B.T.L.*, not so much. Here's how that happened.

There I was. Sneaking into the kitchen again. Looking forward to a big ol' dry spoonful of that sweet chocolaty nectar of the gods when I said to myself, "Hmmmm...this looks even darker and more wonderful. Oh, oh, oh, I cannot wait to eat this."

Into my mouth popped the biggest spoonful ever of this —

You see how I could mistake the two cans? Same type of lid. Same size. Now, I was not a stupid child. Everybody knew Nestlé and Hershey's are both chocolate and I knew it, too.

Of course I choked on it. Coughed it out of my lungs all over the kitchen counter, chair I was standing on, floor, my clothes. Dark cocoa powder hung in the air floating over to the kitchen table, mingling in my hair, clinging to curtains. I was gagging thinking this sh** would never get out of my lungs and what evil is this that has been wrought upon me? And I was furious to boot when in walks Mother who proceeds to die laughing.

She's in on the plot!

Of course, I later learned that in therapy, too.



*B.T.B.L.: Before The Big Lie
*A.T.B.L.: After The Big Lie

Hump Day Quickie: I'm a Man!

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

From the category of "Things I Can't Make Up No Matter How Good a Writer I Am" —

Overheard at the table next to me. Said by a woman sitting in a man's lap just as she stood up, slapped him, backed away, and found a chair:

"Hey! Whoa! I knowyeraman. Ya don'tgottaproveitrightnow."

In any case, he seemed happy just to have been around the female form and I think he was into pain because he smiled real big when she slapped him unless...Oh, please...Ewwww...was that foreplay?

You know what? Just enjoy Chicago doing "I'm a Man."

Oh, what more of my friends say about current events

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

Friday Fun: Gettin' Yer Groove On

by Angela K. Durden