Greetings, dear reader…today I thought we’d briefly delve into the life and untimely departure of one of poetry’s most electric figures: Dylan Thomas.  For those non-English majors  who haven’t heard of him, it is my pleasure to introduce you to a master of language who could turn everyday phrases into pure poetry.  To quote James Devlin, “Thomas was that rare breed of poet whose words didn’t just sit on the page – they leapt off, danced around on your face, and left you pondering the mysteries of life, death, and everything in between.”  Go read “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.”  Right now.  Now drink a bunch of whiskey and read the poem out loud, pounding on the table for appropriate emphasis.  You have now been sufficiently introduced to Dylan Thomas.

Regrettably, on November 9, 1953, the world lost this lyrical genius to a severe illness, complicated by his legendary lifestyle.  Dylan wasn’t just about writing; he lived as hard as he wrote.  My personal poetic role model, this guy could drink like a fish and still pen lines that would make your aorta quiver.  He was very much a rock star poet.

Dylan Thomas’ death was attributed to pneumonia, swelling of the brain, and a fatty liver, which were all exacerbated by heavy drinking.  He fell ill while on a lecture tour in New York City, where he had been staying at the Chelsea Hotel.  He told his companion that “I’ve had 18 straight whiskeys.  I think that’s the record.”  He then fell into a coma.  He was admitted to St. Vincent’s Hospital where he died at age 39.

Why does Dylan Thomas matter?  His work, especially “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night,” is the kind of stuff that really sticks with you (as you just experienced).  It’s been whispered in hospital rooms, shouted in classrooms, and even tattooed on forearms.  Thomas had the incredible ability to blend the personal with the universal, making you feel like you were in on some cosmic secret.

His passing was a wake-up call – not just about the fragility of life, but about the power of words to immortalize a spirit.  Even now, decades later, Thomas’ influence can be felt in the rhythm of modern poetry and spoken word.  He was the precursor to the slam poetry scene.

So today we pour some out for Uncle Dylan.  Because of course you’re going to lose the Big Match, but the inevitability of that  loss doesn’t mean you shouldn’t fight like hell anyway.

N.P.: “Soul Kitchen” – The Doors

You must forgive me for my absence here the past couple of days.  I have been celebrating my ass off since Tuesday night!  Actually started drinking Tuesday morning when a trusted friend reminded me that you can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the morning.  The real party kicked into gear around 11:30 PST, after which point things become rather hazy.  The only reason we stopped earlier this afternoon was because there is an intense training tonight, a training during which I will almost certainly vomit due to the celebratory excesses committed during the last 36 hours or so.  But it will have been worth it!   I’m telling you, dearest and certainly temperate reader…it was a total Goat Dance!

Tomorrow I shall be sober, and I shall, if all goes well, have thoughts about this week’s events.

In the meantime, here is a handy list of all the people who have said (most of them twice now) that they will leave the United States if Big Don is re-elected.  Good riddance.

1. Alec Baldwin
2. Whoopi Goldberg
3. John Legend
4. Chrissy Teigen
5. Ron Reiner
6. Barbara Streisand
7. Cher
8. Nancy Pelosi
9. Hillary Clinton
10. Megan Rapinoe
11. Tom Hanks
12. Amy Schumer
13. AOC
14. Lady Gaga
15. Taylor Swift
16. Bill Gates
17. Jane Fonda
18. Madonna
19. Mark Ruffalo
20. Kim Kardashian
21.  Bruce Springsteen
22. George Clooney
23. Hunter Biden
24. Oprah
25. Robert DeNiro
26. Samuel L. Jackson
27. Miley Cyrus
28. Travis Kelce
29. Bobbi Althoff
30. Rashida Talib
31. Stormy Daniels
32. Anthony Fauci
33. George Soros
34. Diddy
35. Eminem
36. Ellen DeGeneres
37. Sean Penn
38. Sharon Stone
39. Ashley Judd
40. Tommy Lee
41. Bryan Cranston
42. Billy Joe Armstrong

Bonus:
Cher is supposed to blow her brains out.
Rob Reiner promised to light himself on fire.
Bono is to drive himself off a cliff.

Well?  Get to it.  Off you pop.  Or, alternatively, every one of these frauds is completely full of shit.  And always has been.

N.P.: “The Empire of Winds” – Alpine Universe

“Remember, remember the 5th of November,
the gunpowder, treason, and plot.
I can see no reason why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.”
~ John Milton

“It’s only treason if you don’t win.”
~ George Washington

Happy Liberation Day.

N.P.: “Nessun Dorma” – Jeff Beck

Good day, dearest and most intelligent reader.  On this Liberation Day Eve, the Word of the Day, technically, is “petard.”  However, this word in nearly always used in the context of the phrase, “Hoisted on his own petard.”  I’ve always found both the word and the phrase sonorously repugnant: mainly just the word.  “Petard.”  That’s just a terrible sounding word.  Be that as it may, I can’t think of a more relevant word/term of the day for today.  For this phrase comes with a sprinkle of irony and a dash of poetic justice.

The phrase “Hoisted on his own petard” finds its origins in the world of Shakespeare.  It appears in “Hamlet,” where the term “petard” refers to an explosive device used in warfare.  To be hoisted by it means to be blown up by one’s own bomb – a delicious metaphor for being caught in one’s own trap.

The world is watching and waiting for the results of tomorrow’s election.  While no one knows the outcome as of this writing, one thing is beyond doubt: neither Donald Trump nor Kamala Harris would be on the ballot if the democrats hadn’t put them both there.  The whole ignoring Biden’s 15 million votes in the primary and swapping him out for the DEI candidate who got exactly 0 votes was done so blatantly and egregiously, and my democrat friends seem  completely sanguine about it, so there’s no real need to deal with it here.

But my democrat friends seem shocked, shocked to their foundations when I suggest that the only reason Donald Trump even on the ticket is because the Biden/Harris administration and democrat machine worked hand-in-glove to put him there.

Before I continue, I feel the need to share a quick anecdote: Early in this election cycle, a friend found himself in a democrat focus group, answering female “researchers'” questions about masculinity and “guyness.”  Apparently it was a horrid and depressing three minutes.  Their whole angle, he said figured out in retrospect, was that to get their message across to “us simple, toxically masculine males was to figure out what we talked about with each other when we went to the bathroom together.”  That, they thought, was the key to unlock the all-too-illusive male vote.  My friend said that it was clear from the start that none of these women had even met an actually straight male.  Their first question was just straight out: “What do you guys talk about when you go to the bathroom?”  “Thankfully this was a stupid Zoom thing,” he said, “so I was just able to click out of the meeting…I’m sure packing up and walking out of an in-person would have been interpreted as “aggressive” and thus, likely, toxic.  “Fuck ’em,” I thought at the time, “these idiots deserve exactly what they get.”

Flashback with me to the mid-term elections of 2022.  Republicans were still pissed about losing in 2020.  At the forefront of the Republican mind at the time was Trump’s many totally unforced errors in that election.  They blamed Trump for not only losing the executive branch, but also the Senate.  So when he started showing up at the beginning of the 2022 election cycle, making endorsements with papal ex cathedra, Republicans were skeptical.  But willing to hear him out.  Promises of a “Red Wave” were made.  But that amounted to nothing more than a pink puddle of piddle.  The consensus came quickly: Trump’s magic was gone.  He had no more juice.  Not only could he not win elections, he couldn’t even successfully influence things when he wasn’t on the ticket.  He was, for all practical purposes, at least in the minds of most republicans, Done.  And had That Been That, he would have indeed been done.  Even if he did try to run in 2024, the safe money was on DeSantis winning the nomination.  And he may or may not have won against Biden.

But That Wasn’t That because the same Democratic machine just couldn’t let it be.  In fairness, they probably didn’t know how far Trump’s star had fallen, since these were the same out-of-touch folks that were asking what men talk to each other about when they go to the bathroom that were now in charge of destroying Trump’s possible election run in 2024.  Every single thing they would do for the next 12 months would be a catastrophic tactical and strategic error.  To wit:

• Deadly-force-authorized FBI raid on Mar-a-Lago.  This was what did it for most of us.  The absolute outrageousness of a sitting president so brazenly weaponizing his DOJ against his political opponent in the United States was something we simply couldn’t accept.  In a literal instant, Republicans went from having written Trump off to absolutely voting for him in 2024.  Doesn’t matter if he runs or not…we’ll write him in to office, because this is bullshit.  This was August 8, 2022.  This potential write-in campaign was rendered unnecessary when Big Don announces his 2024 run three months later, on November 15, 2022.  Trump’s numbers skyrocket.
• In June 2023, Biden’s DOJ indicts Trump on 37 federal criminal charges related to the handling of classified government documents.  When no charges are forthcoming for Biden, who was found to be in possession of far more classified documents, and had no pretense to any kind of Presidential immunity, a special counsel is appointed, which special counsel determines that Joe Biden is too demented to stand trial and thus cannot be charged. This case would be dismissed a year later. Trump’s numbers again skyrocket.
• In August 2023, Biden’s DOJ indicts Trump on four federal criminal charges related to the certification of the 2020 presidential election, which election was certified perectly and timely according to constitutional proscriptions and requirements.  The Supreme Court would later rule Trump had immunity to what was being charged.  Trump’s support continues to grow.
• In August 2023, Trump is indicted in Georgia on 13 criminal counts related to election interference.  The judge would strike three charges for lack of specificity and two others for violating the Supremacy Clause.  Trump’s support grows.
• The final nail in the coffin came on August 24, 2024, when, after being indicted on racketeering and related charges, DJT voluntarily surrenders himself to authorities at the Fulton County Jail, where a mugshot of him was taken.  Again, the result of this is the exact opposite of what was intended.  Trump’s support among Black and Latino voters skyrockets.

There were then multiple attempts by democrat-run states to take Trump off the ballot.  The Supreme Court told them to fuck off.  At this point, it all  just noise.  The two assassination attempts were enough to bring even traditional democrats like Elon Musk and JFK Jr. to publicly and rather fervently support Trump.

If there is a Trump victory, we will, in perhaps the most ironic way possible, have the democrats to thank for it.  But since this was the exact opposite outcome from what they were going for, they can fairly be said to have been hoisted on their own petard.

N.P.: “Hoist The Colours – Bass Singers Version” – The Wellermen, Bobby Bass, Ebucs, Eric Hollaway, Big Brev, Luke G, Taylor, Jesse Elkins, Davide Delmonte

1. Benjamin Goddamit Franklin, may God rest his sweet, patriotic soul, invented daylight saving time just like he invented electricity and he was obviously a genius and how dare you or any other non-genius fuck with Uncle Ben’s ideas.   They didn’t put your ugly ass on the hundred dollar bill now, did they?  Alright, look…you need to remember a couple of things.  Absolutely, Ben Franklin was a genius.  A great many of his inventions propelled America and mankind into the future that we enjoy today.  However, Ben Franklin lived in a world without electric light and climate control.  His nights were lit solely by candles and oil lamps, and even though his idea of shifting the clock around was pretty clearly meant as a joke, and he had likely been into his cups when he wrote this letter, it did make some bit of sense then to suggest that opening business an hour earlier during certain months of the year would reduce candle usage. American businesses haven’t relied on candlelight or oil lamps in more than a century.  Even candle shops now use electric light and computers.  The position of the sun no longer has anything to do with when we can and cannot work, play, cook, read, et cetera.   If B.F. were alive today, I suspect he would want to pimp-slap all those who have mindlessly remained allegiant to daylight saving time.  He invented his stove to more efficiently heat houses: he would certainly acknowledge that central heating and air is a vastly more safe and effective method of climate control, and would likely insist on having it in his house.
2. It will save energy and money.  Poppycock.  Patently untrue.  In fact, the exact opposite holds true: hundreds of millions of dollars are lost every year due to employees arriving late for work, conference calls and meeting missed, and overall productivity lost.  Doctors tell us that dicking around with the clock and one’s sleep schedule increases the chances of heart attack significantly, leading to hundreds of millions of more dollars lost in medical expenses.  Sleep loss, the disruption of the Circadian rhythm, greater susceptibility to illness…all of things lead to lost productivity, lost money, and ultimately increased energy resources. And having citizens in the work force arrive home at the hottest part of the day ends up using significantly more energy than would be used otherwise.  Just ask Arizona.  They ignore DST (as does Hawaii) and they do just fine.  In fact, neither of those states have nearly the same number of rolling blackouts during the summer as California does.  We have them regularly throughout the summer, during DSL.  There has never been a rolling blackout during Standard Time.
3. The farmers need daylight saving time to order to harvest their crops and get all their work done during the summer.  I can’t even begin to understand this one.  And I think that’s because this one falls in to the very strange category of many of the other lines of rationale I’ve heard to justify the menace of DST: people seem to actually think that DST adds an hour of time to the day.  Like we ACTUALLY get an extra hour of daylight or the days are ACTUALLY an hour longer than they would be during Standard Time.  To these poor souls I can say only that I will include you in my nightly prayers and hope that you aren’t a registered voter.  Farmers go to work when the sun comes up, and they don’t spend the day watching the clock, waiting for 5 o’clock so they can knock off.  Hell no.  They quit work when it’s so dark they can’t see what they’re doing.  They don’t give the slightest of damns if you insist it’s 5:00pm or midnight: just stay out of their way.

Got a massive flashing greenlight on the proposal I’m putting together this week, which greenlight was more sorely needed than I had originally thought.  Let’s just say my thinking about this whole project over the summer was about 50/50: it had equal chances of being massive and falling absolutely flat.  As of today, I’m thinking more 75/25.  It will all come down to the writing, of course.  Everything always does.
This means a full-court press for the rest of ’24…total focus.

N.P.: “Feel Like Making Love” – The Hunger

Happy Halloween, dear reader!  That’s it…I just decided…Halloween is now the official start of the New Year on the Gallaway calendar.  Now I must come up with an official traditional celebration of this holiday.  The reasons for this are myriad but make total sense to me.

And by making my New Year on the last day of the month, we can dedicate an entire day and night to celebrating with reckless abandon, then wake up on the first of the new month, ready to get to work on This Year’s Project(s).  Brilliant.

Our traditional celebration will have nothing to do with trick-or-treating.  Sure, I was into it as a kid, but now trick-or-treaters just annoy me.  I could do without that particular tradition.  But I’m into costumes one day/night a year, so costumes will likely be part of it.  And liquor, of course.  I don’t know…I’m going to have to flesh this out.  I’ll get back to you as developments warrant.

Did you ever decide what you’re going as?  I might have mentioned mine was a toss-up between Art the Clown and The Mad Hatter.  Yesterday I decided I’d just be Garbage.  It was just the easiest option.   I thought I was being original, but everybody that’s come to the door so far has also been Garbage.  Weird.

Anyway, something for you better than candy: 10 of my favorite books/stories to read around this time of year (in no particular order):

1. “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by Washington Irving
2. “Dracula” by Bram Stoker
3. “Frankenstein” by Mary Shelley
4. “The Haunting of Hill House” by Shirley Jackson
5. “Something Wicked This Way Comes” – Ray Bradbury
6. “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allan Poe
7. “The Shining” by Stephen King
8. “Ghost Story” by Peter Straub
9. “The Witches” by Roald Dahl
10. “MacBeth” by William Shakespeare

N.P.: “Grim, Grinning Ghosts” – Ghosts

It’s Halloween Eve, dear reader!  Which fills my heart with joy.  Had to kick on the heater last night, there’s rain in the forecast, and the nights are getting significantly longer than the days.  Tomorrow we get to get juiced and dress like dicks and menace the gentry for candy.  Then Sunday night we again abandon the foolish absurdity of Daylight Saving Time and return to Actual Time.  And I’ll have plenty to say about that when it happens.  I’m just glad it’s happening.  All of this to say that for a Halloween Eve, today was a fine day.

But it was a tad dull.  It lacked excitement.  It was certainly no 1938.

On Halloween Eve (October 30), 1938, Orson Welles scared the living shit out of the American public with his infamous radio broadcast.  Picture the scene: a nation teetering on the brink of war and uncertainty, suddenly pummeled into hysteria by Welles as he unleashed Martians upon the unsuspecting masses.

This was no ordinary Halloween prank, dear reader.  This was a full-scale assault on the fragile psyche of the American public, plunging them into the delicious pit of paranoia.  Broadcasting from the Mercury Theater on the Air, Welles and his band of mischief-makers adapted H. G. Wells’ “War of the Worlds” into a radio play that would transcend entertainment and catapult itself into the realm of mass psychological experiment.

Seriously, picture it: families gathered around their radios, the dim glow of the tubes casting eerie shadows on the walls, when suddenly: news bulletins of Martian invasions!  Alien machines!  Death rays incinerating helpless New Jersey residents!  The more gullible folk sprinted for the hills, convinced that the apocalypse was happening.  Listeners fled their homes, the highways clogged with panic-stricken masses, and the telephone lines blew up with people calling each other, trying to figure out what was happening.

This was the birth of modern-media sensationalism, a flashpoint where fiction blurred into perceived reality.  Welles, ever the anarchist, shattered the comfortable cocoon of pre-war America, and it was amazing.

So tonight we drink to Orson Welles, the man who turned a lazy Sunday afternoon into a nightmarish ride through the cosmos.  His broadcast remains a testament to the power of storytelling, and a cautionary tale of the media’s impact on a gullible and uncritical public.  Perhaps the latter lesson is the one that contemporary Americans would do well to heed.

N.P.: “Thunder Cash ’69” – Cody Parks and the Dirty South