Hernesheir

Tunesmith, multilingual wordbird, solivagant nemophilist, multi-instrumentalist gadfly. Cold-water salmonid fisherman. Circuit board tester/debugger. Ciotóg.

[J.K. Lunden @Jklunden]

The future they want for us.

[Meidas_Charise Lee @charise_lee]

Biden also passed the infrastructure bill that gave the FAA 25 billion dollars, so what did they do with that money?

[Ruth Ben-Ghiat @ruthbenghiat]

Old time Communist gangster vibe with the cash buried in the forest

[Enrico 🇩🇪🇺🇲🗽💙💙💙💙💙 @ANY151161719021]

DING DONG ❗️ 🚨 ❗️ 💥💥

STEPHEN MILLERS EPIC MENTAL MELTDOWN ❗️☝️

A MUST SEE 👀 👌 👏

💙💙💙💙🗽🇺🇸

[Jon Cooper 🇺🇸 @joncoopertweets]

Whoever produced this terrific music video deserves an award. The message is so spot on.

The singer certainly speaks for me — how about you?

#FuckTrump

[Kvist @KvistPtwin]

"No, this is not an exaggeration, yes, it is crazy, but Putin actually is that crazy"

[Hernesheir @hernesheir]

@mmpadellan Insane ideologue.

[BrooklynDad_Defiant!☮️ @mmpadellan]

Good morning and Happy Saturday to everyone who would love to see American reporters take notes from this Venezuelan reporter, José María del Pino, who HUMILIATED Stephen Miller with his calm, steady persistent questions.

Take notes, media.🔥

[Sarah Longwell @SarahLongwell25]

Let me tell you about Sean Duffy. This is a true story…

[Love Classical Music and Movies 🎺🎻💖🎥🎬 @AlexTran677026]

Only 46 measures. Approximately 4 minutes. Mozart wrote “Ave Verum Corpus” in June 1791 — near the end of his life. So simple it's almost bare, yet it contains the heavens. Leonardo Bernstein conducted it at Waldsassen Cathedral in 1990 — slowly, lovingly, as if unwilling to leave each note. A miracle in a small package.

[Meidas_Charise Lee @charise_lee]

Use the ballroom money, arch money, reflecting pool money, WAR money, Israeli money…etc etc etc

[加密老K @tggjh14779]

盘点那些灭蚊名场面

#老K爱交朋友

[Scott Seiss @ScottSeiss]

“A.I. is the future”

[Maggie Reed @mermaidmamamags]

The Departments of Dumb and Dumber #seanduffy #markwaynemullin #politicalcomedy #politicalsatire #omg

[S.V. Dáte @svdate]

We are a nation of war criminals now.

[Samurai Shiba @SamuraiShibaJP]

Every few weeks, my wife hands her high school English class in Tokyo a question about America. And I lose an evening.

This month's prompt:

"You get an American grandpa for one day. What do you do together?"

Some context. Japanese grandfathers are quiet. They watch sumo. They say "mm." They love you very much, and they would rather die than say so.

Her students had clearly been studying American grandpas. Closely. On TV.

"Ride in his truck with the windows down. He drives with one hand and waves at everybody with the other. He knows everybody. Even the cows."

"He calls me 'sport.' I am not sporty. He does not care."

"We go fishing at 5 a.m. We catch nothing. On the way home, we stop for pie, and he tells Grandma we caught one this big." (The student drew the arms.)

"He tells the waitress the same joke every time. She laughs every time. They have been doing this since 1994."

"He has a story for every scar. Some of the stories are true."

"He falls asleep in church and still says 'Amen' perfectly on time."

"He says, 'I'm not hungry.' Then he eats every fry on my plate. One at a time. Looking me in the eye."

My wife laughed until she had to set the whole stack on the floor.

Then she got to Kotone's.

Kotone is 16. She is the quietest student in the class. Her grandfather died last spring. Since the funeral, nobody in her house has said his name. In Japan, that's how a family is kind to each other. You don't bring up the sad thing.

Her answer was one paragraph.

"I would ask my American grandpa to tell funny stories about my grandpa. In American movies, at the funeral, people stand up and tell funny stories about the person who died. Everybody laughs. Then they cry. Then they laugh again. Nobody in my family laughs about my grandpa anymore. I miss laughing about him."

My wife asked if she could read it to the class. Kotone nodded.

When she finished, nobody moved.

Then, from the back row, a boy's hand went up. "My grandpa once got stuck in a convenience store door for twenty minutes because he refused to ask for help. Afterward, he told everyone the door started it."

Everybody laughed. Even Kotone.

Then a girl: "My grandmother hid candy in every coat she owned. We are still finding it. Last week my dad found one and cried, and then he ate it."

Then a boy who never talks in class: "My grandpa pretended to be asleep every time my grandma asked him to do something. Fifty-one years. At his funeral, she leaned over the coffin and whispered, 'Nice try.'"

The whole class lost it. Half of them were crying. Nobody could tell which half.

Then another. And another.

Until the bell, thirty Japanese teenagers held an American-style funeral for every grandparent they had ever lost.

Kotone laughed until she cried. Then she laughed again.

At the end, my wife asked her why she'd needed an American grandpa for that.

Kotone thought about it.

"Because in America, you don't stop being somebody's grandpa just because you died."

That night, Kotone's mother called my wife.

At dinner, Kotone had said her grandfather's name. Out loud. Nobody had, since spring. Then she told the story of how he sang Elvis in the bath every night. Terribly. Always the same song. Always the wrong words. He never once set foot in America. He did the hip thing anyway, and the whole house could hear the water sloshing.

Her mother laughed. Then she cried. Then she laughed again.

Just like the movies.

America, to every grandpa reading this: keep telling the same joke to the waitress. Keep the scars interesting. Keep lying about the fish.

There's a classroom in Tokyo learning how to remember people from you.

[Hernesheir @hernesheir]

@SamuraiShibaJP Domain service?

[Hernesheir @hernesheir]

@SamuraiShibaJP Boise