I watched the interview with Stormy Daniels tonight on the ‘puter at (https://www.cbsnews.com/news/stormy-daniels-describes-her-alleged-affair-with-donald-trump-60-minutes-interview/).
Doing this caused me to reflect on one particular line from a Bob Dylan song, Its Alright Ma , (Im Only Bleeding).
After Richard Nixon resigned the Presidency of the US the line invariably received an eruption from the crowd, including standing ovations. The song that follows is a new to me live performance from 1986. It is one of the most powerful performances Bob has done of any song.
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have to stand naked
Complete lyrics follow the song below.
The Trumpster dropping his pants and getting spanked by a magazine with his picture on the cover caused me to reflect on a former US Chess champion, Dr. Reuben Fine, also a Freudian psychologist, who has written many books on both Chess and Psychology, such as:
and,
The full title is, Bobby Fischer’s Conquest of the World’s Chess Championship: The Psychology and Tactics of the Title Match.
Bobby was not the only Chess player psychoanalyzed:
What would Dr. Fine have thought about, psychologically speaking, any man dropping his pants to be spanked with his own picture? Makes you think, don’t it?
This is an excerpt from the transcript, which can be found at the same page as the interview by Anderson Cooper:
“Stormy Daniels’ real name is Stephanie Clifford. She’s 39 years old, from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and has been acting in, directing, and writing adult films for nearly 20 years. She was one of the most popular actresses in the adult industry when she was introduced to Mr. Trump at a celebrity golf tournament in Lake Tahoe in July, 2006. She says he invited her to dinner, and she met him at his hotel suite.
Anderson Cooper: How was the conversation?
Stormy Daniels: Ummm (LAUGH) it started off– all about him just talking about himself. And he’s like– “Have you seen my new magazine?
Anderson Cooper: He was showing you his own picture on the cover of a magazine.
Stormy Daniels: Right, right. And so I was like, “Does this– does this normally work for you?” And he looked very taken– taken back, like, he didn’t really understand what I was saying. Like, I was– does, just, you know, talking about yourself normally work?” And I was like, “Someone should take that magazine and spank you with it.” (LAUGH) And I’ll never forget the look on his face. He was like–
Anderson Cooper: What– what was his look?
Stormy Daniels: Just, I don’t think anyone’s ever spoken to him like that, especially, you know, a young woman who looked like me. And I said, you know, “Give me that,” and I just remember him going, “You wouldn’t.” “Hand it over.” And– so he did, and I was like, turn around, drop ’em.”
Anderson Cooper: You– you told Donald Trump to turn around and take off his pants.
Stormy Daniels: Yes.
Anderson Cooper: And did he?
Stormy Daniels: Yes. So he turned around and pulled his pants down a little — you know had underwear on and stuff and I just gave him a couple swats.
Anderson Cooper: This was done in a joking manner.
Stormy Daniels: Yes. and– from that moment on, he was a completely different person.
Anderson Cooper: How so?
Stormy Daniels: He quit talking about himself and he asked me things and I asked him things and it just became like more appropriate.
Anderson Cooper: It became more comfortable.
Stormy Daniels: Yeah. He was like, “Wow, you– you are special. You remind me of my daughter.” You know– he was like, “You’re smart and beautiful, and a woman to be reckoned with, and I like you. I like you.”
It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)
Written by: Bob Dylan
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn
That he not busy being born is busy dying
Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you’d just be one more
Person crying
So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing
As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don’t hate nothing at all
Except hatred
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Make everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
That not much is really sacred
While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have to stand naked
An’ though the rules of the road have been lodged
It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it
Advertising signs they con
You into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks they really found you
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit
To satisfy, insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something they invest in
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please him
Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn’t talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer’s pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death’s honesty
Won’t fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes must get lonely
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed
Graveyards, false gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough, what else can you show me?
And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only
Copyright © 1965 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music
Armchair Warrior 