CLIMATE CHANGE POSTER: Mother Earth – Houston, We Have a Problem – Can You Hear Me Now?

As Houston endures that largest rainfall in American history, climate change deniers have a chance to get their feet wet in reality.  Please feel free to share this free poster: “Mother Earth – Houston, We Have a Problem – Can You Hear Me Now?”

CLIMATE CHANGE POSTER: Mother Earth - Houston, We Have a Problem - Can You Hear Me Now?

Feel free to browse climate change and environmental designs here.

MUST READ POEM: Incarcerated Truth

MUST READ POEM: Incarcerated Truth

But for the slip of the tongue
There could be
Having
Been given
The slip of paper
With a key
Too incarcerated truth
Knot to be
Read aloud
There is know God

Many of the simplest and most profound truths in life are best experienced in silence, where anything spoken would only detract from the experience.  If this poem is read out loud, it communicates the opposite meaning of that in silence: “There is no God” versus “There is know God.”  The reference to God sets up the conundrum of trying to communicate spiritual matters when words necessarily get in the way, often turning them into spiritual madders.  This poem is a big tip of the hat to the Tao Te Ching’s opening line: “The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao.”  I have longingly loved this opening paradox which offers the poetic challenge of improving on silence.

Truth may very well lie in the manor in which it is spoken or knot.  Free of words, we may experience the hole truth, going down that place from which hares split.  Down, down, down — nothing softer, nor closer to foul.  Sublime temptations beg the ineffable won, only to be housed in feat of clay.  Any peep would be, as if, to bring the roof roof down, that within ear shot of any eavesdropper.  Even the most dogged ear tome would knot avail the rabid homme, the whole as nothing, but hollowed ground.  To no end, as soil one self.  Making me, want to pop eye: I AM, what I AM?!

TRUMP Promises Fire And Furry

Donald Trump, abandoning his warm and fuzzy — really fuzzy — persona, has threatened nuclear war with North Korea. Trump has opted for war and furry, promising fire and fury commensurate with his global experience, never seen before.

Please feel free to share this hellish image with friends and enemies.

Trump Promises Fire and Furry

TRUMP Twit Twitter Twittiest

Donald Trump is a twit.  Donald Trump is a twitter.  Donald Trump is the twittiest.  Donald Trump is the scariest trick and tweeter of all time.

Please enjoy this free poster:

Trump Twit Twitter Twittiest

A Spiritual Autobiography

I wrote the below spiritual autobiography a dozen years ago as part of a servant leadership study group.  While it definitely needs updating, it serves well as a brief overview of my spiritual history and development over much of my life, particularly my early years.  Fortuitously, my humor remains righteously irreverent and my faith grows.

RUTTS
by Alex Haley
(that’s just my pun name)

The year was 1961. Preceded by John, a child was conceived, fathered by a closeted gay man, in Bethlehem, on the outskirts of the city of brotherly love. In my mother’s womb, I was transported to Haiti, where my parents, as doctor and nurse, were beginning their service as medical missionaries with the Mennonite Central Committee. A dozen (and a half) generations ago my ancestors had fled religious persecution and military conscription in Germany to settle in America. For a new beginning, they were gifted with land from William Penn. This land was some of the most fertile in the world; so fertile, in fact, that even gay men father children there! Though now in Haiti, they were soon to be counted again among the privileged of the world. I was born. And on this journey, Joseph followed. Continuing my heritage as a sojourner in a foreign land, I was born a true child of the 60s.

I have no specific memories of those first couple of years in Haiti. However, only in recent years have I realized my ideal vision of serenity as sleeping without a care late in the morning in a mountain cabin while the rain pounds on the tin roof likely came from memories as a baby (now, if only I can figure out why I have a pleasant association with the smell of skunk!). Also, I am told that I was scared of most white people. Strangely, I am still haunted by white people on occasion.

After a brief stint in Detroit, perhaps explaining my love of urban life, I grew up in a small town in Michigan. The town was Mennonite-free, so I was raised a United Methodist. My childhood was strikingly trauma-free (only striking in retrospect). I knew safety. I knew predictability and caring. Our family always ate meals together, beginning with a prayer too short not to recount here: “God is great. God is good. Let us thank him for our food. Amen.” A lot more theology in that prayer than I usually give credit. Our family participated in worship and church functions regularly. Worship was generally boring. One of my few memories was a teenager with a guitar, singing “Blowing in the wind.” I guess that would have been contemporary music, huh? And that was before Bob Dylan was a Christian. I attended Sunday school, vacation Bible school, and youth group. I only vaguely remember confirmation. I remember good times. Except for a desperately poor matching of gifts by placing me in a children’s choir – my first, and really only, experience with “playing hooky.” I loved summer camp. First there were church camps, then Boy Scout camps. My younger brother and I earned Eagle Scout ranking (the highest in Boy Scouts) in record time. Our scoutmaster was easygoing and playful. Perhaps paradoxically, it was easy to achieve in that environment. If “achievement” had been required of me, I probably wouldn’t have done it, or at least wouldn’t have enjoyed it so much. When we later moved and joined another scout troop, which was probably better organized and certainly more rigid, we dropped out after a while.

My understanding of diversity was child-like. I knew that Catholic families were the ones with five or six kids. Good families to play with. My best friend’s dad was Cuban. He also had two older half-siblings. In retrospect, this was the only somewhat non-traditional family I recall; though I don’t recall giving it much thought.

I was baptized at age eleven. Apparently, I was out of the country at the time such events usually occur. Fortunately, my understanding of baptism was still pretty much that of an infant, so it worked out well. I was confirmed a year later. About this same time, I was in little league baseball. In an attempt to deal with performance anxiety, I kept a pocket-sized New Testament in my back pocket. This crude attempt at spiritual osmosis was discovered by my brothers who with little affection labeled me “Bible boy.” I didn’t like this. I remember that my parent rebuked them.

When we moved to Dearborn, Michigan, before my ninth grade, my parents looked for a church nearby, but had little success – “too suburban” I think. Not surprising, considering we lived in a nice home with a pool, only 100 feet from a golf course. They decided to return to their church from earlier years, Central United Methodist Church in downtown Detroit, 20 minutes away. Central is the oldest Protest-ant church in Michigan, and has been called “the conscience of the city.” Always a leader in social justice, their most widely known pastor preached pacifism before, during and after World War II. I was soon to be raised on 45+ minute sermons, truly epic sermons. A turning point happened to me sometime during my high school years when my mom took me to a peace conference at church. My eyes were opened and my heart would soon follow.

I went to Hope College, a small, private, liberal arts school. It was a Christian College, as were most of its staff and students, mostly Reformed and Christian Reformed. However, it was unlikely that I would ever be Reformed; conservatively speaking that is. My college years began with my father lightly warning me of these Calvinists. I didn’t know what he was talking about. My first roommate and I, who were boyhood friends, unknowingly were matched because we were both Methodists – apparently, a rare breed thereabouts. Early on, I must have been an easy target for an overabundance of evangelism. A friend invited me to Intervarsity Christian Fellowship. I went to what turned out to be a practically diversity-free zone; even ALL of the other persons in my small group were named “Kathy” (though probably a diversity of spellings). Later, when I saw out my dorm room window the friend who invited me, I said, “hello.” She asked me what I thought of the meeting. I shouted from the second floor window something to the effect that it was “too religious.” I did like church, and I went willingly. I even went to chapel services three times a week – religiously. I was also on part-time staff of the campus ministry. Though a biology major, I was frequently mistaken for a political science or philosophy major. Apparently, I was succeeding at the liberal arts (or at least the art of being liberal).

I very soon got involved with a small group of students known as the World Hunger Committee. Being a United Methodist, I must have known that there would be a committee for that! This formally launched my work in social justice, and my personal interest in stewardship, vegetarianism and nutrition. That first year, God brought together this son of a Mennonite with a Hope graduate who was a Mennonite (perhaps the only one). I told him that I was concerned about President Carter re-instituting draft registration. He said, “Why don’t you start a peace group?” I said, “Yes.” Fortunately, I didn’t now what I was doing. So, I helped found “Hope for Peace.”

For my own concerns, I hooked up with a Viet Nam war-era draft counselor. To make a long story short, when President Reagan broke his campaign promise to end draft registration, I was identified in the Detroit News as a non-registrant. Being the only publicly-identified non-registrant in Michigan, I garnered much media attention. Eventually, the Reagan ‘get the government off your back’ regime and his Attorney General, Edwin ‘people are only hungry by choice’ Meese III, saw that out of millions of non-registrants, I was number 13 to be prosecuted. In the end, six years later, after heroically losing half a dozen pre-trial motions (with the help of a volunteer team of legal experts), my older brother dying, graduating from college, getting married, having a son, graduating from graduate school, and getting a job, I defended myself before a jury of my peers (though none of them were subject to the law I was defending myself from). I lost. But what did I win? (that is, beside three months room and board at the taxpayers’ expense) I learned to live in good conscience. I learned to refine my beliefs, even amidst great public scrutiny. I learned about civil disobedience, or as A.J. Muste, a great American pacifist and Hope College graduate would have said, “holy obedience” (in my write mind I say, “wholly obedience). I learned that the U.S. government has the absolute authority to draft any citizen regardless of conscientious objection. Any exception to this is due only to “legislative grace.” I learned to live by God’s grace even when it exceeds the grace of my government. Actually, I presented my case at the Detroit Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church, in conjunction with a resolution to support young men’s consciences who were subject to draft registration laws, whether their conscience led them to register or not. The resolution failed. So, I learned to live by God’s grace even when it exceeds the grace of my denomination.

During college, after guest preaching at my home church in Detroit, someone came up afterwards and said, “I didn’t know that you were in seminary.” Nonetheless, I consider myself a theological mutt. I have drawn from many Christian traditions. I have studied Asian religions, and I am drawn to Buddhism. I am an amateur philosopher (that is, until someone pays me) and I am intrigued by the angst of existentialism. I have experienced a spiritual re-awakening in Alanon, which has given me things that my church could not. I believe that “religionism” may be the ultimate “-ism,” preventing us from experiencing the oneness of God. I may be a leading candidate to be voted, “most likely to be heretical,” by the powers that be. This is my orthodoxy. I believe that paradox lives in the neighbor of truth; and we should love our neighbors. In true Zen-like fashion, I find that irreverence is often the highest form of reverence. Among my heresies is my unabashed appreciation of “The Simpsons” (but, as the Hindus would say, “Don’t have a cow.”).

After an intense summer working for Bread for the World as an organizer, and days before my senior year began, my brother John was killed in an avalanche in Western Canada; but only after dropping out of college while on foreign study, wandering, rock-climbing and working (pretty much in that order) for a couple of years in Africa and the Western U.S. His death has given me a much greater sense of mortality and the preciousness of life each day. I actually find funerals as fruitful opportunities for reflection and renewing my sense of “living in the moment.” I have undervalued such opportunities. One of the few regrets in my life was missing three of four funerals of my grandparents.

My paternal grandparents were particularly religious. Only upon the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary (and doing the math) did I realize that my father was a near-bastard child to a teen mom. Years later, when my sister was pregnant and out-of-wedlock at age 19, my grandfather said, “The sins of the grandfather are being visited upon the granddaughter.” My thought: get over it! Well, at least, I can now understand why my gay father was closeted until his parents were either dead or demented. While I didn’t see healing in my grandparents, I saw that having an understanding of God under construction is a good thing, and sometimes demolition work is required.

That brings me to my marriage. To make a long, and usually happy, story short, my marriage of 11+ years ended 10 years ago. Nonetheless, we were blessed with two wonderful children, Joshua and Kathryn. I love being a parent. It may be the closest I’ve been able to experience what God must feel in His/Her unconditional love for us. Kate’s life is an ongoing miracle since she was born with multiple heart defects. She underwent two heart surgeries, and at one point with surgical complications, a doctor, trying to be optimistic, said, she has at least a 50/50 chance of living. A brush with death. There’s that mortality thing again. Not unlike death, I thought I had no problem with divorce – as long as it was happening to other people. Accepting our divorce was the most difficult thing I have ever dealt with.

Being out of a “relationship” for a number of years helped my re-develop my relationship with myself and with God. This came more through Alanon than church. Now, being in a relationship for eight years with a wise and beautiful woman has taught me to appreciate life as it comes, one day at a time – with both of us half single, half single parent; no longer with in-laws but ex’s. I’ve learned that God makes all things new, and often faster than I want. God never gives me what I want; God always gives me something better!

My career. God brought me to a career in public health, as I savored its roots in social justice. God brought me out of public health, re-naming me “Top Pun,” and appointing me as a jester for peace, where the pun is mightier than the sword, and justice is no yoke. My canvasses are buttons, T-shirts, bumper stickers, and the World Wide Web. My business, by definition, is good – that is, maximizing prophets. My business is exactly on schedule; though I don’t know what the schedule is.

God brought me to Central’s neighborhood, and a few hours later, to Central. Centralites were my kind of people. Some happened to be Christians who were gay. Through my social justice work, not my public health work, God brought me to work in the fight against HIV/AIDS. This opened further opportunities to work with persons who happened to be gay. My dad “came out.” My parents divorced. God had prepared me.

I have issues with money. I aspire to live simply, gracefully facilitated by my recent poverty-level earnings. Living with less financial security has inspired me to give today because I may not be able to give later. Whatever old car I’m driving facilitates my prayer life (of course, no “auto”-biography would be complete without a mention of my car).

I am a mystic at heart, journeying as a gifted rationalist, Caucasian, male, father, lover, businessman, American, etc., etc., yada, yada, yada. While embracing the enigmatic, I hope these few words will offer you a clue as to who I am. Hopefully, these few words will offer you a clue as to who we are. One of my favorite poems is from Muhammad Ali: “Me. We.”

In all, God has never left me; except for an instant in 1981, but that’s another story…

FREE POSTER: Trump Crackpot Calling Kettle Black – “Special Counsel Mueller has conflicts of interest!!”

President Trump is a crackpot.  Donald Trump spouts his hot steam incoherently, burning everyone around him.  Of coarse, this crackpot is made of pure irony.  This week he spouted off about special counsel Robert Mueller allegedly having conflicts of interest that should disqualify him from investigating him about his conflicts of interest!  Mr. Trump brings the psychological concept of projection to new heights, or depths, depending on whether you believe Mr. Trump has any depth.  In due coarse, if confronted with “the pot calling the kettle black” he would retort: “Black pots matter!” — and in blackface no less.

Please enjoy this free poster: Trump Crackpot Calling Kettle Black – “Special Counsel Mueller has conflicts of interest!!”  Share it with a friend or enemy.

FREE POSTER: Trump Crackpot Calling Kettle Black - Special Counsel Mueller has conflicts of interest

Feel free to browse other free posters showcasing my offbeat sense of humor and political satire.

 

FREE POSTER: Mean wile, on Planet Portman, the “independent” Republican senator quickly draws closer to a final solution to the problem of health care in America

Even after several catastrophic versions of the Senate Republican health care bill died, Sen. Rob Portman (R-OH) is still courting disaster, considering even worse options, such as a sweeping repeal of Obamacare without any replacement.  Why is Sen. Portman even considering bills that are worse than versions he has come out against earlier.  Albeit, his previous opposition has been lagging, only coming out against a bill after enough other Republican senators have come out to kill the bill.  Where is Sen. Portman’s leadership?  Sen. Portman has the ability to end this health care deconstruction by just saying he will not support either anything resembling the previous version he opposed or a sweeping Obamacare repeal, particularly without any replacement!  As the senate Republican health care bill only gets worse, what is he waiting for?  Sen. Portman like to call himself an “independent” senator, willing to do the right thing even if it requires him to buck party lines.  Well, Mr. Senator, here is your chance.  Get to it!

In honor of Sen. Portman’s reckless waffling, I have created the below free poster: “Mean wile, on Planet Portman, the ‘independent’ Republican senator quickly draws closer to a final solution to the problem of health care in America.”  Sen. Portman, either stay on whatever planet you are living on, and resign as one of Ohio’s senators, or come back to Ohio and listen to your constituents.  End this madness of crashing our health care system!

FREE POSTER: Mean wile, on Planet Portman, the "independent" Republican senator quickly draws closer to a final solution to the problem of health care in America

This is another one of my free posters in my “Parity or Parody in democracy” series.  There will be more before the end of it all.

Bee Sting Allergic Reaction Health Care Experience Number Three

On Monday, July 17, 2017, I was stung by a yellow jacket. I am allergic to bee stings and the like. This is the third time I had been stung by a bee since I found out that I was allergic to bee stings [see here for account and poem about previous bee sting]. If untreated, a bee sting would cause anaphylactic shock and probably death. The first line of treatment for bee stings in people who are allergic to bee stings is an injection of epinephrine. This can prevent the onset of anaphylactic shock.

Fortunately, I had an epinephrine autoinjector. Unfortunately, this autoinjector had been expired for two years. I had not refilled a prescription for a new epinephrine autoinjector, since the most common brand, Epipen, which has 95% of the United States market, has in recent years been price gouging consumers who rely on such a life-saving device and insurance companies who may pay for it. I could not bring myself to be held hostage to a price gouging pharmaceutical company, even though my insurance would pay 100% of the cost. Since acquiring the company that manufactured EpiPens, the new company (Mylan) kept raising the price until it was 600% more than the original price. Such entrepreneurial genius was rewarded even more by granting the CEO of the new company a 700% pay increase. Not being a complete fool, I had researched if expired epinephrine autoinjectors retained their effectiveness past their expiration date. I found that given reasonable storage temperatures, the bulk of their effectiveness was maintained even years past the expiration date. Thus, I decided to wait until alternative products were available or until the offending price gouging company made their price reasonable.

So, back to the story. After being stung, I looked quickly in the neighbors driveways to see if a car was there and somebody might be home who might be able to drive me to the emergency room. No such luck. So, I injected myself with the epinephrine autoinjector. Since I don’t have a car, I rode my bike to the emergency room at St. Vincent Hospital about a mile and a third from my home where I was stung. It was a nice sunny day in the low 80s. I rode there vigorously on my bike. I was feeling pretty well and had no welts blooming like in my two previous bee sting occurrences.

When I walked into the emergency room, there were two people at the desk and one clerk. After waiting a few seconds after receiving no greeting or acknowledgement of my presence, I asked if somebody was available to provide medical triage for me. I indicated that I had been stung by a bee, that I was allergic, and that I was in danger of going into anaphylactic shock. The clerk called for another person. This person turned out to be another billing clerk. This person took my personal and health insurance information and asked no information about my current emergency. This person walked me through two big double doors into a hallway where I was told to sit on a gurney and wait for help. I was left unsupervised. I was in partial line of sight of the emergency room nurses station. After sitting there for a few minutes, a man in scrubs moved into my view. I asked him if I could get some help, and asked him somewhat facetiously if this was an “emergency” room. He very nonchalantly said that he would see if somebody could assist me. Some minutes later, someone came to ask me questions. They took me into an emergency room examining room. This was about 10 minutes after I had walked through the front door.

They immediately hooked me up to many of the usual devices, such as a finger oxygen monitor, a blood pressure monitor, and EKG leads. Eventually, they gave me an IV. Apparently, my heart was racing, not too surprising since I was having a serious allergic reaction, had an epinephrine injection and a vigorous bike ride. However, the EKG showed abnormalities, which they diagnosed as atrial fibrillation. Atrial fibrillation is where the upper chambers of the heart send signals sporadically so smooth, coordinated, regular blood flow is impaired. My heart rate was moving back and forth from about 80 or 90 up to about 160, which is my maximal heart rate. To my knowledge, I had never previously experienced atrial fibrillation. They were concerned that this may be an underlying condition, triggered by the stress of the sting allergic reaction, and/or the epinephrine, possibly in conjunction with vigorous exercise. I indicated to the nurse that if I should die that they should throw my dead body on the lawn of the corporate headquarters of the pharmaceutical company practicing price gouging for epinephrine autoinjectors, i.e., EpiPen made by Mylan pharmaceuticals.

While they were monitoring the atrial fibrillation situation, they asked if I wanted an ice pack for the bee sting site on the back of my hand which was red and swollen. I said “sure.” They brought in an elongated icepack about 3 inches wide and 15 inches long. Oddly, the covering seem to be somewhat insulated so the cold didn’t seem very cold. The physician noted that this device was meant for another purpose — though she did not indicate what purpose. My hand wasn’t suffering too badly so I didn’t worry about it much. It just struck me oddly that’s some ice in a plastic bag would have done nicely at probably a thousandth of the cost.

At about 50 minutes after arriving in the emergency room, I was given prednisone, a steroid to keep the swelling down and fight back the allergic reaction. Fortunately, I was not blooming in welts as in my two earlier experiences with bee sting reactions, both of which were not initially treated immediately with epinephrine.

Their primary concern seemed to be the atrial fibrillation, which they continued to monitor. I half-jokingly submitted that the atrial fibrillation may simply be due to my broken heart over the Senate Republican health care bill. The doctor did not disagree. The supervising physician first recommended that I’d be admitted for further testing and observation. After some questioning about the nature of this, I pushed back somewhat, partially based on my two previous experiences at the same ER and hospital where I was hospitalized for further testing and observation and my experience proved that this was not useful and perhaps even hampered by treatment and recovery. I have recorded one of these bee sting experiences elsewhere in my blog.

Eventually, after the atrial fibrillation did not resolve on its own, they gave me some heart medicine, and within five minutes or so, my heart settled down. While this atrial fibrillation event lasted for quite a while, perhaps an hour and a half or so, I was feeling pretty well physically and mentally, with only one five or 10 second bout of heart racing where I felt moderately distressed — but, then again, I don’t get distressed too easily.

The doctor indicated that my thyroid stimulating hormone test was high normal, that is, 4.75 in a normal range of 0.5 to 5.0. They thought that this might be a possible indicator for low thyroid activity which could contribute to an atrial fibrillation condition. They asked that I be retested in three months. They were encouraged by the fact that I had no other risk factors and was in excellent general health.

They ended up discharging me without any additional request for my hospitalization. This pleased me. I was glad to be saved a day locked up in a hospital. I was glad to have likely saved the health care system another few thousand dollars. Plus, I was planning to attend a health-care protest the following day at noon, where I had planned to read a poem I composed specifically for that event, dedicated to our own Sen. Rob Portman, who has been equivocating over how many millions of Americans losing their health insurance is acceptable.

In the discharge process, I requested a refill prescription of my epinephrine autoinjector, given that it was a generic or less expensive competitor than from the EpiPen manufacturers. I indicated that I had done some research on this before, and that if they wrote the prescription more generically such as epinephrine autoinjector rather than by a brand name, then a less expensive version may be available. They researched this and discovered that only one local pharmacy chain carried a less expensive version. This wasn’t my usual pharmacy, but it was about the same distance from my home. The less expensive version was $109 versus the up to $600 for the EpiPen.

I am very grateful that this bee sting occurrence ended up being less serious as far as the allergic reaction than in my two previous occurrences.  Apparently, my two-year expired epinephrine autoinjector worked just fine. I’ll have to wait and see if this atrial fibrillation occurrence is due to an underlying condition or simply brought on by the very stressful conditions of an allergic reaction, epinephrine and vigorous exercise. I am still aghast that in none of the three times I’ve gone to this same emergency room have I received prompt medical triage. It seems to me that without prompt medical triage, it is somewhat difficult to actually consider your emergency room an actual “emergency” room. Sadly, they are quite efficient at getting your billing information promptly, but it as to dealing quickly with whatever emergency you are presenting with, that is another and another and another story.

POEM: Cruel After Math — Owed to Sen. Rob Portman’s Health Care Vote

What kind?
Of cruel after-math
Is Sen. Portman working up
The American people
Facing death
Bye the tens of thousands
Buy the tens of billions
For tax cuts
For the richest Americans
For loaded corporations drunk on power
What is owed
To the flush and the flushed
To the affluent and the effluent
How does this add up?
What is the take away?
Is this the American will?
The right to health care
Or merely the extreme right of congress
Into an afterlife
Leaving loved wons behind
And nothing else
A cruel after-math
It’s your cull
A nation divided
Halves and halve nots
And what might
You be culpable of
Americans may ever no
Of a partisan’s last will and testament
Sow telling
In the ends
And the means
Of congress
And its reverse
Progress

This is the poem that I read at today’s health care protest outside of Sen. Rob.Portman’s Toledo office (see video of poetry reading).  A large laminated version of the above poem was delivered to his office.  There were an estimated 45-45,000 protesters.  In the photo below, I am pictured in the center next to “Flat Rob,” a cutout of Sen. Portman that we use to conduct our own town hall meetings on the street, since Sen. Portman does not see it fit to hold official town hall meetings with his constituents.

Sen. Rob Portman Health Care Protest

FREE POSTER: Sen. Rob Portman teams up with The Trump Company to solve the problem of the sick and the sick economy by bringing back Soylent Green

Please enjoy this surreal health care commentary brought to US by senate Republicans and a president who wants to win a legislative victory at any cost: “Sen. Rob Portman teams up with The Trump Company to solve the problem of the sick and the sick economy by bringing back Soylent Green.” This free poster is the next in my continuing series of free posters called “Parity or Parody in democracy.”  Sen. Rob Portman is seriously considering offering tens of millions of sick and poor Americans to feed the greed of the richest Americans.  Normally, such a horrific endeavor would be reserved for a slasher film or science fiction movie.  The Republicans are well practiced at slashing, but are now honing their skills at science fiction, now better known as “alternative” facts.  In a typical misreading of the American public, Republicans have come up with a Soylent Green solution to the people’s unified chorus of “Eat me!”FREE  POSTER: Sen. Rob Portman teams up with The Trump Company to solve the problem of the sick and the sick economy by bringing back Soylent Green

BIGGEST. WITCH HUNT. EVER.

Donald Trump’s full employment program for comedians is in full swing.  Perhaps the only weakness in this full employment program for comedians is that Donald Trump is a master of self-parody.  So, sometimes, to trump the master, you have to go way over the top.  In this Donald Trump meme — BIGGEST. WITCH HUNT. EVER. — I combine the palpable disaster that is the Donald Trump white house — now, extra white — with the image of him as a whining little witch — which witches should find offensive!  Hopefully, this wacky image will positively increase your ratio of laughing to crying…

Donald Trump: BIGGEST. WITCH HUNT. EVER.

KILL The BILL – That is, The Congressional So-called Health Care Bill

The Senate so-called health care bill literally sucks, the life out of Americans.  The House bill does the same.  KILL the BILL – that is, the congressional so-called health care bill!

The below meme uses three pop culture references.  The first is Saturday Night Live’s Mr. Bill from the last millennium, famous for crying out, “OH NOOO!!!” — which is surprisingly contemporary.  The second comes from the movie franchise, Kill Bill.  Kill Bill ends with an exploding heart — which, may also be tragically contemporary.  The third comes from the ubiquitous truism that congress is fueled by payoffs — preferably in large, unmarked bills — by uncountable and unaccountable corporate interests.  KILL the BILL!  KILL the House bill!!  KILL the Senate bill!!!

KILL The BILL - That is, The Congressional So-called Health Care Bill

FREE POSTER: Sen. Rob “Lincoln” Portman – The Grate Emancipator – “And you shall be emancipated from your health insurance, and the good Lord will grant you your ultimate freedom”

In the continuing health care debacle known as senate Republicans trying to “repeal and replace” Obamacare, please enjoy my latest take with this free poster: Sen. Rob “Lincoln” Portman – The Grate Emancipator – “And you shall be emancipated from your health insurance, and the good Lord will grant you your ultimate freedom.”

Just when you thought the senate Republican so-called health care bill couldn’t get any worse, along comes Sen. Ted Cruz, who was successful in getting a lethal change in the new version — which allows unregulated insurance plans, essentially making it impossible for Obamacare insurance exchange to function as designed.  As succinctly put,”The new Senate health bill is terrible for anyone who is sick, has been sick, or will be sick.”

Sen. Rob Portman (R-OH) may be against this new worse bill but he is being obtuse, still trying to play both sides and be “independent.”  I’ve got news for you Mr. Portman, when there is a civil war over health care, threatening each year to kill tens of thousands of Americans, you can’t carve out neutrality — even famously neutral Switzerland has universal health care!

Feel free to share or print out this poster in your efforts to stop Republican meddling with America’s health care!

FREE POSTER: Sen. Rob "Lincoln" Portman - The Grate Emancipator - "And you shall be emancipated from your health insurance, and the good Lord will grant you your ultimate freedom"

This is the latest addition to my “Parity or Parody in democracy” series of free posters.  I won’t stop my parody until we have parity!

FREE POSTER: Sen. Rob Portman’s closest health care ally, DEATH, making a critical point regarding his constituents: “I WANT YOU!”

This free poster reveals Sen. Rob Portman’s closest health care ally, DEATH, making a critical point regarding his constituents: “I WANT YOU!”  Sen. Portman is showing cruel ambivalence toward the senate Republican killer health care bill.  Tens of thousands of dead Americans each year still seems to be in the ballpark of acceptable for Sen. Portman.  Sen. Rob Portman, kill the bill, not your constituents!

Feel free to share or print out this free political poster.FREE POSTER: Sen. Rob Portman's closest health care ally makes a critical point regarding his constituentsThis is yet another in my “Parity or Parody in democracy” series of free posters.  Many more to come, so stay tuned…

FREE POSTER: Sen. Rob Portman meets with his Russian lawyer and campaign consultant on how to safely blow up Medicaid

When Sen. Rob Portman (R-OH) is busy not meeting with his constituents, he is seeking expert advice from cartoonish consultants.  Please feel free to share or print out this free political poster, “Sen. Rob Portman meets with his Russian lawyer and campaign consultant on how to safely blow up Medicaid.”  Sen Portman does not shy away from trying to do the impossible, however absurd or recklessly dangerous.  Fear not, Sen. Portman got nothing of real value from this Russian agent, so know harm know foul.Sen. Rob Portman meets with his Russian lawyer and campaign consultant on how to safely blow up MedicaidThe installments of my “Parity or Parody in democracy” poster series just keep on coming — stay tuned for more!  Plus, check out other funny political and free posters from TopPun.com

FREE POSTER: Sen. Rob “Robber” Portman – Reverse Robin Hood

This free political poster features Sen. Rob “Robber” Portman (R-OH) as Reverse Robin Hood, stealing from the poor and giving to the rich.  This free poster is yet another in my “Parity or Parody in Democracy” series. This poster was inspired by Sen. Portman’s role in crafting the senate Republican health care bill, which is really a tax bill masquerading as a health care bill.  This bill, if enacted, would be the largest transfer of wealth from poorer Americans to richer Americans in our nation’s history.  All of this at a time when income inequality is at its greatest point in modern history and still growing!  This bill would quite literally kill hundreds of thousands of poorer Americans to feed the greed of the richest Americans.  If Sen. Rob “Robber” Portman votes for this bill, it will make him not only the Robber but the Robbiest!  Don’t vote for this so-called health care bill, Sen. Portman!!

Please feel free to share or download and print out this free poster of Sen. Rob “Robber” Portman (R-OH) as Reverse Robin Hood:

Sen. Rob "Robber" Portman Reverse Robin Hood

FREE POSTER: Senator Rob Portman as The High Priest Caiaphas, Starring In That Christian Damn Nation

This free poster takes Sen. Rob Portman (R-OH) to church over his brutally un-Christian vacillation over the senate Republican health care bill.  This satirical poster is yet another installation in my “Parity or parody in democracy” series.  Wile Sen. Portman is considering the gutting of Medicaid, costing about $800 billion, he may be bought off with $46 billion in funds to treat opioid addiction, and perhaps a similar amount thrown at, or into, the gaping hole in Medicaid.  This poster uses the lethal logic that the high priest Caiaphas used to justify crucifying Jesus, that is, killing a portion of the nation to save the hole nation.  Here is the scriptural text from the poster (in Republican-ease):

If we let Obamacare go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then democracy will come and take away both our Party and our Christian damn nation. Then one of them, named Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, spoke up, “You know nothing at all! You do not realize that it is better hundreds of thousands die enriching the rich than that the whole Christian damn nation perish.” John 11:48-50 (Republican Jesus inversion)

Let’s stop this damnable vision of so-called health care, a health care bill paid for by poor, sick, and elderly Americans as Republicans mirrorly enrich the richest Americans and powerful corporate campaign donors.

FREE POSTER: Health Care Warrior – Sen. Rob Portman Flamethrowing Medicaid

This free poster, Sen. Rob Portman (R-OH), health care warrior, graphically depicts the futility of flamethrowing Medicaid and hoping that some extra money for opioid treatment will adequately address the opioid epidemic. Health for All: Anti-Terrorism that Works - POLITICAL BUTTONHealth Care is a Right, Not a Product POLITICAL BUTTONWhile Sen Portman counts his pennies for health care and hurls bags of cash for wealth care, his flamethrower should be directed squarely on the Republican so-called “health care” bill, which is actually a tax bill paid for directly by Americans’ health and very lives.  Sen. Rob Portman, vote this bill down.  Refuse to vote for any health care bill, unless it actually improves our health.  Anything else is malpractice.

Please feel free to print out or share this free poster with your friends and enemies.

FREE POSTER: Flamethrower Senator Rob Portman Medicaid Opioid Treatment

POSTER: Partisan Man – Senator Rob Portman – Mitch McConnell Made Me Do It!

This free poster is another installment in my “Parity or Parody in Democracy” series.  This poster features Sen. Rob Portman as Partisan Man, yet another white man.  This political cartoon was inspired by Sen. Portman, white man among white men, in the exclusive group of Republican senators appointed by Mitch McConnell, Senate Majority Leader, all of whom are white men.

Sen. Portman, an alleged moderate, has recently weakened his role as a critic of the profoundly ironically named Better Care Reconciliation Act.  Sen. Portman was handed his shorts over his pet advocacy project, preserving opioid treatment while decimating overall health care for the poor, addicts, and mentally ill; they included less than 5% of what he asked for!  Despite this insulting result, Sen. Portman has weakened rather than strengthened his opposition to the bill.  He missed the opportunity of joining other Senate Republicans in challenging the rushed process without adequate legislator review or public hearings.  Sen. Portman appears ready to collapse into whimpering partisanship, neither demanding a transparent, democratic process nor a bill that even resembles improving the health of Americans.  Single-Payer Health Care - Everybody In, Nobody OutWe Can't Fix The Economy Until We Fix Health Care POLITICAL BUTTONOhio’s elected so-called representative is looking more and more like a compliant minion of Senate Republican bosses.  He can blame it on Mitch McConnell with a proverbial “Mitch McConnell made me do it,” but Ohioans did not elect Mitch McConnell as their representative.  His hiding behind is another version of covering one’s ass.  The Republicans, led by their megalomaniacal president, can’t hide behind their big PP, Partisan Politics, in this presumptive Trumpcare debacle.  You may note that the American flag in this poster is upside down; this is because and upside down flag is a distress call.  Let’s up right this topsy turvy nation of ours and reject the pathetic machinations of Republican health care so-called reform.  It is time for health care for all — everybody in, nobody out!  It doesn’t get any less partisan than that!!

PARTISAN MAN - Senator Rob Portman

 

 

Are Peace Signs The Bomb?

This is my kind of story about the power of peace buttons:

In one North Carolina city, authorities decided it might be too dangerous to give peace a chance.Give peace a chance -- John Lennon quote

News outlets report Interstate 240 in Asheville and a bridge over it were closed for about 10 minutes Thursday while police removed two round button-like objects reading “peace” from underneath the bridge.

About 1 foot (0.3 meters) across, the objects were made of a Styrofoam-like material, painted red and gray, and attached with magnets to the steel beams underneath the bridge on the northbound and southbound spans.

The Citizen-Times quotes Lt. Joseph Sorrells as saying authorities assumed the objects didn’t pose a threat, but they shut down traffic “to err on the side of caution.” He said the objects were harmless.

The road closures caused significant backups on I-240, and a preschool was placed on lockdown.

I have been known and unknown to skulk about in similar such peacemongering activities.  When peace breaks out in such small ways, may we not be so afraid.

Please feel free to browse my many hundreds of peace sign designs, from simple to psychedelic.