This shouldn't be rocket science. But apparently it is.

3 Chords & the Truth: Can we be America again?

Hi there! Remember me?

We're back with this little thing called 3 Chords & the Truth after a month off . . . about three weeks of that due to the viral crud that's been going around these parts and your Mighty Favog's not having enough voice to do the show. At least not enough until right now, and that's a generous assessment of the state of my vocal cords.

Winter stinks.

But not as badly as the last three years, which have been rather like attending the world's longest, saddest funeral. 

For your country.

AND NOW, as the president is on trial in the Senate, and the outcome is just as foreordained as the trials of white supremacists who killed black folk in 1963 Mississippi. . . .

Yeah, it kind of puts the viral crud in perspective as we head to the graveyard to shovel dirt onto the casket of the United States of America.

I'm guessing right now that you kind of wish I still had the crud. On the other hand . . . it is what it is, and we're well past the point of being measured or polite.

Down here in the 3C&T apocalypse bunker, bluntness is standard operating procedure. The music is pretty sweet, though.

In dark times, we need all the cold comfort we can muster.

Subversion is just about all that we have left in our political and cultural arsenal, and good music, smartly presented, is the Big Show's way of subverting the bad hand -- the dysfunctional culture, politics and government -- we've been dealt. Turn the music up . . . loud . . . as you find your way to throw a spanner into the gears of fascist Amerika.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

The abomination of Trumpolation

It has been many years since I've wanted a goddamned thing to do with the professionalized, politicized "pro-life" movement. Why? Because it's God-damned.

That sad fact becomes clearer by the day, if not by the minute.

Any organization that isn't wouldn't mock the Almighty by saying, with apparently straight faces -- both of them -- that Donald John Trump was "a voice for the unborn and continuously working to build a culture of life." That is a whopper of Trumpian proportions, at least.

Trumpian, hell. Orwellian.

Having Trump speak at an alleged March for Life is like having the ghost of Joseph Goebbels keynote an Anti-Defamation League convention. This most vile and dangerous of American presidents is building some kind of culture, alt-right all right, and it is anything but a "culture of life."

A CULTURE OF LIFE does not see ripping children from their parents at the border, then placing them in squalid and overcrowded Border Patrol stations as a feature and not a bug.

A culture of life's stance on the treatment of women does not include "grab 'em by the pussy."

A culture of life does not celebrate war crimes, it does not threaten war crimes, and it does not tolerate peacetime assassinations of foreign leaders.

A culture of life seeks to ease the struggles of the poor -- it does not cut their SNAP benefits.

A culture of life takes a dim view -- a really dim view -- of referring to women as "dogs."

A culture of life does not claim there's "some very fine people" among neo-Nazis and other white supremacists.

A culture of life does not celebrate someone who's told 16,241 public lies in his first three years in office.

A culture of life is not racist.

A culture of life is not anti-Semitic.

I could go on, but it's late and I'm tired.

WHEN I SAW the March of Life's tweet, the first thing -- literally -- that came to mind was "abomination of desolation." That's Bible speak, roughly describing something horrific and defiling. Apocalyptic, even. Think of erecting pagan monuments on the ruins of the temple in Jerusalem, as the Romans did.

Think of building an altar to Satan in a Catholic church.

Think of having Donald John Trump speak at a March for Life.

I'm thinking of the Archdiocese of Omaha sending busloads of teenagers to the March for Life -- and all of its hyperpoliticized Trumpdolatry -- like lambs to the spiritual and ideological slaughter. One of three things is likely to happen to each poor soul, and none is good:

* The kid might die of irony overload right on the spot.

* The kid might become a MAGA enthusiast, endangering his or her immortal soul and causing much harm to others somewhere down the road.

* The kid might be unusually perceptive, see this for the evil, blasphemous bullshit that it really is, take note of who and what brought him or her into this moral clusterfuck . . . and be lost to the Church (or Christianity, period) forever.

What an amazing witness for Christ. America -- and the church -- will have much to suffer because of such sulfurous subversion from the depths of hell.

I'm also imagining Jesus on one of those buses full of Nebraska teens as it crosses the Potomac River. It is written, "As he drew near, he saw the city and wept over it."

Somewhere in Hastings, Nebraska in 1958

Courtesy of eBay

"Good news, Emil!"

"What's up, Verl?"

"I found the money in the budget for a half-page ad in the TV Guide!"

"That's fine, Verl."

"There's a rub, though, Emil."

"And. . . ."

"Well, there's not enough money to get anything printed up at Hasenpfeffer's Print Shop."

"Jesus, Verl, that's not good."

"No, Emil, but dollars don't grow on trees, y'know."

"That's my line, Verl."

"Sorry, Emil. I got carried away with frugality."

"There's hope for ya yet, son. So, what do you propose we do for this TV Guide advertisement, then?

"Well, we still got the picture for Fran's cooking show that we put on the poster in the Hinky Dinky produce aisle that time."

"And. . . ."

"Well, Emil, I been goin' with that gal, Willa -- you know, the new art teacher at the high school."

Courtesy of eBay

"I think I know where you're goin' with this, Verl. Not a bad solution."

"I think it'll work out. But I think all she has would be pens and those new itsy-bitsy kinds of Marks-a-Lots."

"That'll be just fine, son. It'll look just as good as those ads for KETV in Omaha."

"Oh . . . Emil?"

"What now, Verl?"

"Did I mention that Willa has a little bit of palsy?"

War is over. (If you want it.)

"The battle is always lost within the castle."

Well, John Lennon got that one right. We elected Donald Trump president -- or at least voters in states comprising a majority in the Electoral College elected Donald Trump -- and what seems to be a nearly inevitable war with Iran already is lost.

It didn't -- doesn't -- have to be fought. The fuse was lit when Trump pulled the United States out of the multinational nuclear agreement with Iran, then ramped up sanctions in an attempt to destroy the Iranian economy.

After a year or so of tit-for-tatting with the mullahs, Trump poured jet fuel on the burning fuse by ordering the (nominally) peacetime, extralegal assassination of Maj. Gen. Qassim Suleimani, said to be the second-most powerful member of the Iranian government. The Iranians will strike back -- hard.

When they do, Trump, who has blown up any plausible deniability that he is a madman, has threatened to respond by committing war crimes on an epic scale -- airstrikes against 52 Iranian targets including civilian sites and cultural treasures.

THE IRANIAN regime is not innocent in this, and Suleimani had much blood on his hands, including American blood. Then again, so does North Korea's Kim Jong Un. Trump considers him a friend . . . at least for the time being.

Tomorrow, who the hell knows?

No, Iran is not innocent. But after years of neocon warmongering, Trump's diplomatic duplicity, foreign-policy recklessness and -- now -- an illegal assassination of a foreign official that pretty clearly was an act of war, the United States stands before a global jury guilty as charged.

We are a deeply wrong country set to embark on a clearly illegal and unjust war.

And we are guilty of putting the madman who's about to pull the trigger in just the position to do it. With impunity.

As we say during the Roman Catholic Mass, "Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault."

But . . . perhaps if getting into this catastrophic mess is our fault, maybe we also can get out of it. Somehow, like we eventually did in Vietnam. 

"War is over. (If you want it.)"

Proverbs 16:18

For God's sake . . . as opposed to whom or what evangelicals are worshiping these days.

Just saw this in The New York Times, and my disgust and revulsion know no bounds:

In his first public appearance since the strike that killed Maj. Gen. Qassim Suleimani of Iran, President Trump rallied his evangelical Christian base of supporters on Friday, portraying himself as the restorer of faith in the public square and claiming that God is “on our side.”

Mr. Trump brought to the stage Cissie Graham Lynch, a granddaughter of Billy Graham, the founder of Christianity Today, to offer an implicit rebuke of the magazine’s recent editorial calling for his removal from the White House.

Ms. Lynch’s appearance underscored how sensitive Mr. Trump was about any signs of fracturing in his base; many evangelical allies denounced the editorial, and Ms. Graham Lynch vowed on Friday to help Mr. Trump win re-election. She then welcomed a supporter to the stage who told attendees that they could not trust what the news media wrote about the president.

REALLY, why worship the God of Abraham, Isaac and Joseph when you can go all in for a Golden Calf Orange Ass. Willful delusion is the worst kind of delusion.

Ass, Orange

Outside the rally, supporters said they came to offer their unblinking support for the president. In a city where Hispanics make up 70 percent of the population, many supporters chatted with one another in Spanish as they waited for hours in the blazing Miami sun.

“He’s talking from his heart,” said Michelle Hoff, who came to the rally with two other women from her prayer group. “I can’t remember when we had a president who was honest like he is. Like everyone else, he’s a sinner saved by grace. A lot of people say stuff that they don’t do. He’s doing it.”

Asked if she opposed anything the president said or did, Ms. Hoff said that she only wished he would appoint judges to fully overturn Roe v. Wade and same-sex marriage.

The rally inside the massive church began with energetic Christian rock, with many supporters clad in red M.A.G.A. hats dancing and lifting their hands in prayer.

GOD is not mocked. And if you know anything about the Old Testament -- which Donald Trump doesn't -- you suspect it probably isn't a good idea to f*** with the Persians at this juncture.

Proverbs 16:18, y'all. Proverbs 16:18. And to America's Orange Ass evangelicals . . . good riddance.

3 Chords & the Truth: We need a lot of Christmas

The bigger the show, the less I'll write about it. And the Christmas edition of the Big Show is a big, big show, indeed.

In fact, it's the biggest Big Show we've done in more than 11 years of doing the program. There isn't a little Christmas in this week's 3 Chords & the Truth; there's a lot of Christmas.

There's a simple reason for that, pally.

These days, we need  a lot of Christmas. Every single minute. We need a lot of Christmastime.

In this case, 3 hours and 13 minutes of Christmastime. You're welcome. Actually, thank our sponsor, What? Do a Shot . . . the drink America drinks when it needs to black out.

So there you have it, big Big Show, small post about the holiday music marathon.

It's A 3 Chords & the Truth Christmas, y'all. Be there. Alo-ho-ho-ho-ha.

Donald can't Trump the God's honest truth

I am a Bad Catholic. But at least, unlike so many evangelicals and others, I remember this one thing.

Donald Trump's gaslight, sadly, is poison for the brain and deadly for one's immortal soul.

3 Chords & the Truth: Resistance is futile

There are a lot of entities and ideologies, nay, powers and principalities, out there waiting to assimilate your ass.

The vast majority represent bad, nay, weird ass, stuff. Feel free to substitute a more colorful noun than "stuff."

If you wonder what I speak of, you haven't been paying attention to our sorry and strife-filled times. But this isn't about that.

This is about being assimilated by something good and interesting and, nay, something good for your brain and your soul.

THIS . . . is about 3 Chords & the Truth. We're like the good Borg, and we only require to assimilate a modest and reasonable portion of your mind to the hive.

And maybe your feet, with which we will guide you to use for dancing and tapping.

Apart from that, there's just another exceptional edition of the Big Show to alert you to this week. Good music and a few great Christmas songs as we lead up to the giant Ho Ho Ho Extravaganza next week.

That . . . is all.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Power of tunes

The power of tunes is . . .

Three minutes of Christmas joy that makes you forget about a world of hurt for just a bit.

Songs that make you think, reminding you of the important things in life.

Music that lets you scream and rage at the insanity of this present darkness . . . without actually screaming and raging and getting carted off to the nearest psych ward.

THAT SOMETHING beyond words that touches you inside in a way beyond description.

The force multiplier of twist and shout.

Not caring whether "the force multiplier of twist and shout" actually makes any sense. You know what you mean.

"She loves you, yeah yeah yeah!"

Now, komm gib mir deine Hand, and I'll lead you to a magical place. We call it the Big Show.

We call it 3 Chords & the Truth.

Be there.

Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: A broken radio

There's a hole in Donald's head where all the crazy goes.

And America died for nothing, I suppose,
Little minds have big mouths.
Don't stop to count the cost,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

(Apologies to John Prine)

THAT'S US. We're a broken radio, and the sweet songs -- our democratic heritage -- can't last too long. Not when we're going like this.

The Big Show will do what it can. We will play our sweet songs as long as we can. But if our national -- our cultural -- hatred of the truth, of the rule of law . . . of one another . . . doesn't end, the sweet songs will fade into static.

What cannot go on, won't.

That is the message of this week's episode of 3 Chords & the Truth. We're here in the 3C&T apocalypse bunker beneath Omaha, by God, Nebraska, and we're doing what we can.

Mainly, that's to play the best music we can, to remind you -- briefly -- of some basic, important things, and to keep alive the better angels of our cultural nature for as long as we can.

That's what the Big Show can do. You have to do the rest. Now to the music.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.