Soros Jamming

I wrote my first song about George Soros during COVID because I felt we’d become so Balkanized as a country that there was little that opposing factions could say to one another. The binary polarization had made dialogue nearly impossible to have.

I also recognized that this division and strife was being funded on the left with money from George Soros.

Liberal Democrats had become so enraged about anything connected to Donald J. Trump.  A term called “Trump Derangement Syndrome” was coined on the right to describe and explain it. Stephen King definitely suffers from it. Probably Rosie O’Donnell, also. This seemed odd because there was a time when Trump was a beloved cultural icon, often referred to as a “tycoon.” But not any longer. Most on the left have imbibed the narrative that Trump is anathema to our democracy.

Additonally, the left conveniently began turning a blind eye to the rioting and mayhem fueled by Antifa and BLM groups. You may as well lump in the litany of vaccine and mask mandates for businesses and schools and it began to feel like chaos was a strategy that Soros was funding, with the playbook being written by Saul Alinsky. This is an overly “glowing” account of Alinsky’s how to get whatever you want.

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The Art of Songwriting: Tom Brady (GOAT)

I’m someone with considerable experience listening to sports talk radio over the course of the past 35 years. The week leading up to the Super Bowl has always been something I’ve kept on my personal radar. This year, the strangest year ever, things about sports (even the Super Bowl) seem to have been pushed to the fringes, shoved there by all-things-COVID.

Perhaps it has something to do with not really running with a tribe anymore. Or, not working in a physical space with other humans. Every workplace I’ve ever been part of would have had someone running a Super Bowl pool, soliciting predictions with a pot of cash going to the winner. Maybe New Englanders were depressed because their favorite son had found success somewhere else, out from the constraints of the Krafts and the Hoodie Man.

But this year, nothing: nada! Working from home, the daily Skype was filled with the usual inane banter about dogs and things people didn’t know about how to do their jobs. Nothing about Tom Brady, or thoughts about how New England’s favorite son might fare in the land of the sun. No openings to insert, “I just wrote a song about Tom Brady–check it out.” Actually, no one at work gives two shits about anything related to my life–I learned that all-too-well the week of the fourth anniversary of Mark’s death. Not one note or inquiry like, “how are you doing” from a team leader or manager. Oh well. Continue reading