(Permanent Musical Accompaniment To The Last Post Of The Week From The Blog's Favourite Living Canadian)

There seems to be some stirring in the Congress concerning a possible censure bill aimed at the president*. They can do it. They refuse to do it. I really don't care. Outside of putting people on the record yet again as supporting Camp Runamuck, it strikes me as little more than a legislative marshmallow. A congressional censure is meaningless even if the president cares about his job and about the institution he has been elected to serve. (That's why Andrew Jackson, the only president ever censured by Congress, got it quietly expunged by a later Congress.) The current president* clearly doesn't care about either the job or the institution, so my guess is that the censure resolution will pass, and he'll tweet about it all morning the next day, and schedule a rally in Ohio or some place a week later, where he'll say something vicious and/or stupid about the whole business, and that will be the end of it.

Moreover, censure gives nervous Republicans a perfect out. That the president* is worthy of at least a preliminary impeachment inquiry in the House seems beyond question by now. The violation of his oath as regards the Emoluments Clause in Washington alone is worth poking around at with a sharp stick. But the Republican House is led by Paul Ryan, the zombie-eyed granny starver from the state of Wisconsin, and he doesn't have the belly for something like that, not when there's more of the nation's wealth to shove upwards. A censure, though, especially one that everybody in the Congress knows is toothless, is the legislative equivalent of all that mealymouthed swill we've heard since last Saturday, by which people deplore what the president* said about Nazis, but can't seem to remember who the president* actually is. Of course, Robert Mueller is still howling ominously in the distance, so there's that. But censure will be a decent TV show and little more than that. I'm worried about the sighs of relief that will come after it, and what comes out of the Congress after that.

One thing that we all can take for granted is that, whether it's aimed at the White House or not, and I suspect it won't be, Breitbart's Mausoleum For The Otherwise Unemployable is going to go completely to the zoo when Bannon gets back there. You're going to see Crazy like somebody struck the Comstock Lode of the stuff. It's going to make Ancient Aliens look like Great Performances.

Game Of The Week: A big one at Croker on Sunday. The Kingdom, in a semifinal against Mayo, two veteran teams playing for a shot at playing for the title. I think Kieran Donaghy is impossible to mark and that the Kingdom will slip through what should be a real brawler but, damn, Mayo's been playing well down the stretch. How they ever lost to Galway is beyond me. I am, once again, worried.

Now that we're relitigating the great arguments of the 1850s and 1860s, we should check back with this Mother Jones piece about white supremacist goon Richard Spencer, and the money he makes from Louisiana cotton—and from your pockets, too.

He is in a position to know. Spencer, along with his mother and sister, are absentee landlords of 5,200 acres of cotton and corn fields in an impoverished, largely African American region of Louisiana, according to records examined by Reveal from The Center for Investigative Reporting. The farms, controlled by multiple family-owned businesses, are worth millions: A 1,600-acre parcel sold for $4.3 million in 2012. The Spencer family's farms are also subsidized by the federal government. From 2008 through 2015, the Spencers received $2 million in US farm subsidy payments, according to federal data.

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Clio, Muse of History, also known by her Marvel Superhero name, The Proclaimer (!), certainly does have a weird sense of humor.

WWOZ Pick To Click: "Poor Boy Blues" (Champion Jack Dupree/King Curtis): Yeah, I pretty much still love New Orleans.

Weekly Visit To The Pathe Archives: Here's the raising of a five-ton statue of Joan of Arc in Paris, 1927. Of course, there are apparently American Burgundians who carry a grudge. From Nola.com,

Amy Kirk Duvoisin, the founder of the annual Joan of Arc parade that ceremonially pauses at the statue on the first day of Carnival season, says she's confused by the vandalism. "Surely, people realize she's not related to American history," she said referring to the French icon.

Oh, Mme. Duvoisin, I wouldn't go that far. And don't call me Shirley. Nevertheless, history is very cool.

Good for Chris Long, who got him a Belichickian ring last year, and who now plays in Philadelphia. If you know his father, Howie, at all, you know where he gets his ability to stick to his principles. And kudos to David Steele of The Sporting News for mentioning the late Peter Norman of Australia in this context. Norman became a pariah in Australia after he stood with Tommie Smith and John Carlos; he wasn't even invited to the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney. In 2012, the Australian parliament officially apologized to him on behalf of the whole country. It's a good story to keep in mind these days.

I've laid off the events in Spain because, at this point, what the hell more is there to say? Maybe kicking over the hornet's nest in Iraq wasn't such a good idea. There are maniacs, religious and otherwise, abroad in the world and they've fastened on what may be the simplest, and most banal, way to kill a lot of people. Anyone who uses these deaths as camouflage for what happened in Virginia, and for what we're doing about recalibrating racial justice right now, is beneath contempt.

It's going to be god's own joke if the reunification of Ireland comes about because of Brexit after decades of bloodshed. Fintan O'Toole of the Irish Times strikes a cautionary note about the current outbreak of enthusiasm for the idea. But it's closer right now than it's ever been since partition.

Meanwhile, are people really upset about Tina Fey's sketch on Thursday night? C'mon, WaPo. You're kidding me, right?

No.

The drag queen line, however, was worthy of some anger.

Meanwhile, over on the Left side of the dial, apparently, we're back to this stupid "neo-Redbaiting" trope again as regards those considered less than pure. I will repeat, you cannot have Red-baiting of any kind without Reds. Putin's an authoritarian and a murderous oligarch. But he is not a Red, and he did ratfck the last election. Red-baiting had genuine consequences in the lives and futures of its victims. People lost jobs and couldn't get another one. Many of them committed suicide. This is not the same as some politician being dubious about single-payer health-care, or someone else having supported Hillary Rodham Clinton. And if you can't see the difference between Neera Tanden and Pat McCarran, or Joy Reid and Roy Cohn, then we really have nothing to discuss, especially in the face of what's actually going on at the top of the government.

Is it a good day for dinosaur news, Guardian? It's always a good day for dinosaur news!

A revised assessment of the kangaroo-sized Chilesaurus diegosuarezi , reported in the journal Biology Letters, bolsters a theory unveiled earlier this year that threatens to upend a long-standing classification of all dinosaurs… Chilesaurus genuinely helps fill an evolutionary gap between two big dinosaur groups," said co-author Paul Barrett, president of Britain's Palaeontographical Society and a researcher at the Natural History Museum. When first presented to the world in 2015, Chilesaurus – despite its penchant for plants – was lumped together with theropods, the suborder of meat-eating dinosaurs that not only includes fleet-footed velociraptors but Tyrannosaurus rex, the ultimate carnivore. Experts acknowledged at the time, however, that it was an awkward fit. One described the beast as "the most bizarre dinosaur ever found."

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Imagine being the most bizarre dinosaur ever found. Quel distinction! And, unless they find one wearing a dinner jacket, Chilesaurus is likely to hold that title for a while.

An upright posture, powerful hind legs and foreshortened front limbs were all reminiscent of theropods. But an inverted, bird-like hip structure and flattened, leaf-shaped teeth – proof of an exclusively vegetal diet – suggested that it also shared traits with another major suborder, the ornithischia. "Chilesaurus initially looked like an earlier offshoot of the theropod line, but it seemed suspicious that it had all these adaptations for eating plants," Barrett said. It lived about 150m years ago, far earlier than the handful of theropods known to have turned away from meat, he pointed out.

The world's scariest Vegan.

Through all the anger and wreckage this week, The Committee looked deeply around the shebeen for any random bits of hilarity. Luckily, Top Commenter Claude Galinsky was hanging around the jukebox, cracking wise.

"Trump International Golf Course pictured from the beach at Doughmore bay" Of course it's on Doughmore Bay. He probably couldn't find a bay named Trump or FckObama. Next best name, then.

Botany, Fundy, Bengal, Buchanan. All famous Bays. FckObama would be some kind of addition. Congratulations, my good man. That will be 81.99 Beckhams for you.

I'll be back on Monday, or sooner, since we're having one of these hootenannies in Boston on Saturday. Be well and play nice, ya bastids. Stay above the snakeline, and watch out for those Vegans. We're learning more about them all the time.

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Charles P. Pierce Charles P Pierce is the author of four books, most recently Idiot America, and has been a working journalist since 1976.

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