Sit Down Comedy … March 13th, 2020

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Sit Down Comedy

 

Sometimes, snarky, stupie, smart-ass boy shows up just about the time I’ve convinced myself that I smothered the little bastard during his last attack. Yet he is a persistent little prick–stomping and bitching his way into the room, verbally pooping on the carpet set before me, simply because it isn’t red enough.

It happened this morn.

We had decided to get up early since family was passing through and could only stop in for a little while for a visit. So as we retired for the night, we set the alarm clock to awaken us.

I had not set an alarm clock for nearly three years.

I do not like them.

I’m not alone in this—just look at the name:

Alarm:  As in, to frighten and force attention in an unwanted direction.

Clock: “Tick-tock. Get your ass moving. The day has begun, whether you wish to believe it or not.”

This morning when it rang its off-tune proclamation, I cursed it—not with profanity, but clever repartee.

“Your mother was jilted by Big Ben.”

“You have very small hands.”

“You always run a little behind the times.”

“I don’t like your face.”

It didn’t make any difference.

The alarm continued and the clock pressed on, warning me that in no time at all, I would be the sluggard who failed to heed the call.

You see, I don’t like snarky, stupie, smart-ass boy—but you also must note that I am already defending him. He is that part of me that still believes Hershey bars are as healthy as vegetables; all girls should say yes when you ask them on a date, and swimming trunks, when placed on your body, should turn you into a muscle-man.

Because snarky, stupie, smart-ass boy believes life is not fair, he spends all of his time lamenting injustice instead of pursuing betterment.

I did not want to get up.

Let me rephrase that. If I had I been battling insomnia, I might have wanted to get up as long as it was my idea.

My snarky, stupie, smart-ass boy doesn’t want anything to be your idea, life’s idea, nature’s suggestion or even God’s will.

He honors one opinion, and that is the one seeping out of his present mood.

I am not alone. Most of the people who want to be President of the United States have their own little snarky, stupie, smart-ass boys and girls, standing ready in the wings to be brats at a moment’s notice.

I don’t know whether it is possible to eliminate this sinister child, since the twenty-first birthday party failed to do the trick.

But at the very least, this dick-head, who is not suitable for contact with other human life, needs to be identified quickly and hustled out the door before he can insult one of the innocent souls who still hangs around, insisting on their loving attention.

 

The B. S. M. G. Report


Jonathots Daily Blog

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Looking for a way to bless

But stymied in the mess

Bad

For one hundred and ninety-six years, the United States stumbled and fumbled, but also struggled its way through discovering its own definition of a “Democratic Republic,” with only one occasion when the President of the United States was impeached.

Now, in the past forty-seven years, we have had three Presidents impeached. Also George W. Bush was repeatedly threatened with it, and even Ronald Reagan was nearly brought down by the Iran-Contra affair.

It’s time to realize that we have lost sight of what it means to be Americans and also have failed to follow through on the vision of what we set out to do so many years ago with the Declaration of Independence.

The figures speak for themselves.

We either cannot find good leadership, or we do not know how to pick a good leader.

SAD

When the vote was taken for the impeachment inquiry for President Donald Trump, not one single Republican cast an affirmative to proceed with the investigation.

The sadness I feel is not because I think the President is guilty, nor that I deem him innocent. I am saddened because this has become a partisan event, since it is most assuredly Democrats against Republicans.

Meanwhile, the pundits bicker and snicker.

MAD

We’re supposed to be the good guys.

We’re supposed to be the U.S.A. which travels the globe to help people out when there are disasters.

We’re supposed to be the nation that challenges other nations to be more honest, more democratic and more willing to pursue human rights.

It is truly maddening that we have lost our way, and gradually are becoming the laughingstock of a world which is intimidated, not just by our atomic warheads, but also by our desire to make things right no matter how wrong they may seem to be.

GLAD

It is like a tiny bugle in the distance. I can barely hear it. Shall we call it a “frugal bugle”—one that would love to blow a retreat from selfishness, politics and jealousy, allowing us to regroup into a nation indivisible?

For after all, it doesn’t do much good for us to be “under God” if we’re split apart by ethnicity, bigotry, political parties and religion.

I hear a faint bugle blowing.

It is a call by those who are weary of Republicans and disappointed in Democrats and would like to go back to the simplicity of a land where people are given equal opportunity and equal respect.

Listen for the bugle.

When you hear it, join the retreat from insanity and the gathering of those who will not move one more foot—until common sense is placed in charge.

 

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The Y Word … July 23rd, 2019

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THE

Related image

WORD


Eighteen, nineteen

Certainly twenty

Full of vigor

Vim aplenty

I remember

I retrace

I recall

My youthful face.

The Y word that should never be spoken or written again is:

YOUTHFUL

How is it possible that a word that can be followed by either “energy” or “indiscretion” is so revered in our society that we fearfully abhor the sight of an aging countenance in favor of one bright and ready, but still filled with foolishness?

And it truly is ironic that arguably the two greatest Presidents we’ve ever had, Lincoln and FDR, certainly did not exude youthfulness, beauty or even a measure of health.

I am not suggesting that the older you are, the smarter you are—nor am I connoting that possessing a youthful spring in your step for as long as possible is not desirable. But when the window for musicians and entertainers begins at thirteen and ends just short of thirty, and the younger the executive the more convinced we are that he or she will be full of innovative ideas, and with the startling realization that investing in anti-aging cream is always a sure shot, it is time for us to realize that we are both addicted to youth and also enslaved by immaturity.

I do not want to hear if someone is youthful.

I do not care if the President of the United States can take the stairs into Air Force One two at a time.

What I want to be sure of is that the birthday candles have nothing whatsoever to do with the fire in the soul, the energy in the brain and the willingness of the heart.

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Sit Down Comedy … July 12th, 2019

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Paralyzed by the immobility of a weary exasperation, I pause, waiting for the Senate of Sitters, the House of Misrepresentation, the President of Whim and the Court of Supreme Confusion to hatch a single egg of an idea from their coop of chickens.

I would suggest that it’s time for each of us to step up and become the solution before we are drug into the quicksand of indecision and suffocated by lameness.

So therefore, may I suggest the following mission statement:

A lways

B elieving in the persistent power of goodness

C oncerned

D eeply in our portion of the responsibility of carrying the banner of possibility, we

E ffectively craft a plan of action which has historical awareness, future vision and a great sensitivity to the present need.

F inding reasons to agree, similarities among us all

G iving us a common joy which beckons an uncommon strength to tackle our problems, while

H aving respect for one another and reverence for great ideals,

I join with you to form US, which is the “we, the people” who are in pursuit of a more perfect union.

J ustice is our mind, creativity our heart and mercy our soul.

K indly we enjoin.

L osing the fickle identity of political parties, we

M ingle.

N aturally becoming the melting pot of cultures that we have advertised ourselves to be,

O ur hope is an equality that lends itself to equity—

P ure of heart, to find the divine within us.

Q uiet in ignorance,

R allying toward learning who we are together, we

S urvive to expand what we know without shame over our lacking, for

T ruth is submission to the next well-proven revelation. We

U nite with each other in our hunger and thirst for what is better. Indeed,

V ictory is sweeter when celebrated by all, and

W inning, more peaceful when there are fewer losers.

X marks the spot where there is an atmosphere wherein

Y ou and I, once and for all, are able to look one another in the eye without fear or prejudice—to go out every single day and be:

Z ealously affected by a good thing.


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Sit Down Comedy … May 10th, 2019

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“But know this—that if the good man of the house had known when the thief would come, he would have watched and would not have suffered his house to be broken up.” *

We weren’t watching.

Maybe it’s because there isn’t a good man among us. I don’t know.

Maybe we thought there weren’t any real thieves out there.

Perhaps we were bewitched into believing that a Republican or a Democrat possessed any spirit to follow through on basic human integrity.

Maybe it’s because we were afraid to admit that the whole political system is evil, and nobody can exist within its parameters without absorbing the filth.

Again—I don’t know.

The thieves have come in and broken up our house.

We could get angry.

We could call all the politicians “sons-of-a-bitches.”

We can insist the ones who wear red hats are righteous or the ones with the blue hats are benevolent.

But we’d be missing the point.

The tree is corrupt, so the fruit will be rotten.

Moving forward, if we’re going to protect the American house, we need to make sure we’re not allowing thieves to come in and handle the national jewels.

This will require that we stop prancing around the room, talking about voting, civic responsibility and checks and balances, but instead, ask more internal, piercing questions of those who would desire to lead us.

I only want to know four things about anybody.

I don’t care if he mows my lawn, distributes my groceries or is the President of the United States. And the answers to these questions tell me whether I can trust him or her and therefore grant my support.

Just four questions—and if you agree, you can stop concerning yourself with immigration, the economy, health insurance and social standards. The answers to the questions tell you whether an individual running for office truly gives a damn about anybody.

So here are the questions I want to ask anybody I ever meet, to inform me where he or she is coming from and where they’re going:

  1. Can you tell the truth?
  2. Can you confess your faults?
  3. Can you learn?
  4. Can you love your neighbor as yourself?

After I ask them, I listen to the answers. I don’t accept, “I’ll try,” or “Everybody tells a fib now and then,” or “Who do you think I should confess to?” or “I’m pretty smart the way I am but I could probably learn,” or the classic—“Who’s my neighbor?”

The answers are actually easy:

  1. I not only can tell the truth, I want you to hold me to the truth, and when you catch me, I want you to stop me.
  2. I will confess my faults, because I know you will find them eventually anyway, and if I confess them, I have a better chance of being healed.
  3. I don’t work on being smart. I work on increasing my capacity and hunger to learn. There are too many angles for any one person to figure out.
  4. I will love my neighbor as myself because it’s the only way I can guarantee a positive ending to any situation.

You can go ahead and believe in politics if you want to—but as the “good man of the house,” I see the thieves coming around again, and I, for one, am going to do everything I can to make sure they don’t come in and break up our house anymore.

*Matthew 24:43


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The N Word … May 7th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

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THE

Image result for gif of letter n

WORD


The N word is n****r

The word is so foul that not only should it never be spoken but from henceforth needs never be spelled and read. I have absolutely no objection to inserting stars or dots to replace the letters that form such an insane term.

Yet I must tell you, with my confirmation of such a maneuver, I have a fear that if we never speak or spell this word of national disgrace ever again, we may be inviting it to sneak in the back door of our culture in the next generation.

Yes, if our offspring do not understand the origin of the evil that pronounced and proclaimed such an epithet, it’s possible that they might just come along and think they’ve reinvented the wheel and start spewing the poison once again.

Most people under the age of thirty piously walk around, gob-smacked over the idea that such prejudice ever existed in the first place. They are certain that they would never have ever been so pre-disposed as to relegate other human beings to such diminished quality through a verbal assault. Yet it only takes us a few moments of reading social media to see that these millennials, who feel like they are color-blind, have no problem whatsoever besmirching the character of anyone who disagrees with them politically, or who might hunt deer, or desire a choice for determining the future of a pregnancy.

Although I love my fellow-humans, I don’t trust them. I am fully aware of the iniquity of my own soul, and certainly do not think they have surpassed me in nobility.

For instance, I do not want to watch Alex Haley’s classic tale, “Roots,” and have all of the “n words” bleeped out under some sort of pseudo-intellectual assertion that this will cause us to cease ever being a color-coded society again.

Our children need to hear the word and understand how, at one time, it was acceptable to use it. They need to be aware that there was a season when it would have been impossible for a man to be the President of the United States without knowing the word, or preach behind a holy desk of the church if you were not acquainted with the “n word” or even used it yourself.

It was not a symbol of ignorance.

Very intelligent people used it. It was, rather, the presence of arrogance in a country which became bankrupt of true spirituality in the pursuit of religion and politics.

Block out the letters, but don’t eliminate the memory.

Make the term anathema. Yet guarantee that the vile nature of it is revealed to those who think they are too pure to be dirtied by such foulness ever again.


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Cracked 5 … February 23rd, 2019

 


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Cracked 5

Surprising Revelations from the Mueller Report

 A. President Trump eats pizza with a fork because he has a deep affection for the fork

 

B.  He likes to watch Russians dressing

 

C.  His hair is real. Other things…not so much.

 

D.  The Trump Tower is actually a building.

 

E.  Donald Trump is the President of the United States.

The Mueller Report Cartoon

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