On Twitter, Republican candidate and a man who moisturizes his face with cheddar, Donald Trump, tweeted one of his "Thoughts from my shitter," this time about battle strategy. "Just announced that Iraq (U.S.) is preparing for battle to reclaim Mosul. Why do they have to announce this? Makes mission much harder!" he wrote while, no doubt, a Filipino child used eagle feathers and an original copy of the Constitution to wipe his ass.
Trump has used this line of what we might generously call "thinking" before. Often, in fact. It's one of his big talking points, that he has a strategy to take down ISIS but he won't share it because he doesn't want to tip off the enemy, and that Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama just keep announcing their plans and thus they are failures. You gotta wonder if Trump understands that we're not living in the 1940s or even the 1960s anymore. You can't just sneak attack with thousands of troops anymore. There are satellites and drones and other surveillance shit all over the place that will see that you happen to be moving equipment and soldiers and ships and planes into strategic positions prior to an attack. This is not to mention that we're not at war with a nation, so we at least pretend to try not to kill this fuck out of noncombatants.
It seems that knowledge about just about anything for Trump stopped sometime around 1985 or so. When he goes off script at rallies and starts riffing, he sounds like a poor man's Don Rickles trying to make Peter Lawford laugh his ass off at a Dean Martin's Celebrity Roast by insulting Phyllis Diller's looks (google it, children). Trump delighted the crowd in Pennsylvania this weekend by doing broad physical schtick, imitating Hillary Clinton passing out, and heading into insult humor: "I don’t even think she’s loyal to Bill, if you want to know the truth," he said, the idiot hordes reacting in fake shock and utter delight. "And really, folks,” Trump continued, like George Burns with brain damage, “really, why should she be? Right? Why should she be?"
In that same speech, Trump sounded like every stereotypical old man ever when he became a film critic for a moment. "Right now, you say to your wife: ‘Let’s go to a movie after Trump.’ But you won’t do that because you’ll be so high and so excited that no movie is going to satisfy you. Okay? No movie. You know why? Honestly? Because they don’t make movies like they used to — is that right?” No, they don't, motherfucker. They make movies that star black people and Hispanics and even the occasional Asian and, goddamnit, there are female Ghostbusters, probably bleeding from their wherevers while not being afraid of no ghosts.
Seriously, every Trump line not in the teleprompter could end in "ring-a-ding-ding," like he's the last living Rat Pack member, and it would sound exactly the same.
This existence in the past and this desire to turn the nation back to that past comes through most strongly in Trump's sexism. Oh, how he longs for a time when you could tell a woman to shut up because men were talking and you could leer at a hot chick with the big gazongas and an ass so tight you could bounce a nickel off it without fear of being called a "sexist pig." For instance, he thinks that you can fire women for not meeting his standards for attractiveness.
The revelations that Trump was a lewd and harassing piece of shit on the set The Apprentice aren't shocking in the least because Trump, in speech, taste, dress, and decorating approach, isn't living in a time where commenting on the looks of your employees is seen as problematic, if not actionable. Trump would talk about how fuckable a woman was, and he seemed to relish asking men if they would fuck a particular woman, often in front of the woman. Chances are that if you challenged Trump on that, he'd tell you that you're being politically correct and that he hires women and hey, that woman looks like Ivanka, but Ivanka is hotter.
Some of Trump's living in the past is just excusable for a man who is 70. Fuck, fine, call it "cyber," Gramps. But other times, it's just goddamned sinister, as when he says, as he did about prosecuting criminals, "I think we need to go back to a little more old-fashioned method of thinking." What might that mean? Shit, he probably can't tell you because he wants it to be a surprise.
In speech, in manner, in approach to life, Donald Trump is living in the time of the white male dinosaurs, not realizing that the asteroid has already wiped out his way of life.
9/30/2016
The Necessity of Michael Moore: Live Talk Edition
(All quotes pretty much guaranteed not to be verbatim, but to be accurate to the spirit of what was said.)
Last night, with about a day of advance notice, shambling filmmaker and ass-kicking provocateur Michael Moore came to my place of work, a college, to give a talk about the current election. While it wasn't billed as such, it seemed to be a warm-up gig before he films an appearance in Ohio next week that he can release before we're all voting in November (even if some of us have started already). I've been a fan of Moore's since I saw Roger and Me in a movie theatre in New Orleans in 1989 because, agree or disagree with him, he is sincere behind his snide attacks on stupidity, complacency, and cruelty. He believes, perhaps naively (although, at 60, it's hard to call him that), that we can toss aside the shit that divides us and we can make the country better.
But first, of course, there's all that shit to shovel through.
Moore gave the starkest, most frightening explanation of how Donald Trump could end up winning the presidency against Hillary Clinton. For him, it all comes down to Rust Belt Americans in Ohio, Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Wisconsin, and he focused on the white males in that region, men who have seen their jobs sent across the border or overseas, who, yes, believe they're getting a raw deal from demographic shifts that reduce the power of white men, who have broken marriage, debts, and an anger that their government doesn't seem to give a frantic rat fuck about them.
For them, Trump is a voice they needed to hear, Moore said, someone who isn't afraid, someone who can say, "Fuck you" without consequences, someone who can say to Ford that he'll put a 35% tariff on cars not made in the United States or that he'll compel Apple to make iPhones in this country. It doesn't matter whether or not he can do it. The truth doesn't matter. What matters is that these isolated, angry white men hear this and it gives them irrational hope that they can get back some of what they've lost or that they've perceived they've lost, a little power and a decent amount of cash. Voting for Trump turns Americans into "legal terrorists," Moore said, and their votes "are Molotov cocktails thrown into a machine they want to blow up," and, goddamn, doesn't it feel good just to watch shit burn for a while? Then, Moore concluded, a few months later, they'll understand that Trump isn't gonna do any of the shit he said he would. Betrayed again. (Moore wrote a version of this earlier in the year.)
Moore explained why he thought Trump won the debate: because he didn't lose any voters. He didn't gain any new ones, but his voters are standing by him no matter what. Those voters, he believes, are far more energized than Hillary Clinton voters, and that enthusiasm gap is what frightens him into thinking that Trump might very well win this goddamn thing.
So he addressed that, in some really funny terms about the difference between liberals and conservatives. Liberals, he said, are the people who are always losing their keys and waste a fuckload of time looking for them. Conservatives are the type who have the key hooks by the door, all labeled and ordered and they know where the fuck the keys are all the time while liberals are still distracted trying to find theirs. So liberals are mild instead of wild about Clinton, voting for her with a shrug. (I think this undersells genuine energy out there for Clinton, especially post-debate, but point taken.)
And while he doesn't get why people hate Hillary so viscerally, Moore says you shouldn't stop hating her. And on Election Day, "You should wake up hating her. 'Fucking Hillary Clinton.' And you should take a hateful shower" and then you should get in your car, angrily cursing her, and head to your polling place and, spitting and growling about her, force yourself to vote for her. "I've never voted for Hillary," Moore said. But he's going to do it now.
His reasoning was one of those Michael Moore moments where, no matter how glib or didactic or self-righteous he gets, you sit back and think, "Motherfucker, he's right."
Someone in the audience shouted out, "What about Jill Stein?" and Moore gently said that he really does support most of what the Green Party stands for and that he's voted third party a couple of times. But this year, Moore said, "Voting that way just makes you kind of like Trump. You're being narcissistic. You're only voting that way because it makes you feel good to say you didn't vote for Trump or Clinton." Sometimes, Moore continued, "you just gotta suck it up and vote for the good of the country." In other words, Moore, who called Bill Clinton the "best Republican president we ever had," doesn't buy the liberal bullshit that Trump and Clinton are alike. Trump is different. And you're a fucking idiot if you don't get that.
I don't want to spoil the rest of the show for anyone who sees it live or on video (and I'm sure it will be far more polished by next week). But one other moment stood out for its frightening logic. A black student asked if Moore was going to make a film on the police gunning down unarmed black Americans. Moore said he was helping a filmmaker who worked with him before make just such a movie.
This led Moore to wonder what's going to happen when people in a neighborhood start coming out of their homes with guns, not camera phones, to stop the cops from shooting people. "If you had a gun instead of a camera, wouldn't you shoot the cop who's going to murder your husband?" he asked, adding, "Of course you would. Any cop would do that if another cop was about to shoot his wife."
No, Michael Moore is not the cultural powerhouse he once was. He moves much slower, he gets distracted easily, but he's still got a perspective that focuses and gives voice to things we might not know how to articulate. And he remains a necessity to the discourse of politics, especially the discourse of liberalism, in this country.
Last night, with about a day of advance notice, shambling filmmaker and ass-kicking provocateur Michael Moore came to my place of work, a college, to give a talk about the current election. While it wasn't billed as such, it seemed to be a warm-up gig before he films an appearance in Ohio next week that he can release before we're all voting in November (even if some of us have started already). I've been a fan of Moore's since I saw Roger and Me in a movie theatre in New Orleans in 1989 because, agree or disagree with him, he is sincere behind his snide attacks on stupidity, complacency, and cruelty. He believes, perhaps naively (although, at 60, it's hard to call him that), that we can toss aside the shit that divides us and we can make the country better.
But first, of course, there's all that shit to shovel through.
Moore gave the starkest, most frightening explanation of how Donald Trump could end up winning the presidency against Hillary Clinton. For him, it all comes down to Rust Belt Americans in Ohio, Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Wisconsin, and he focused on the white males in that region, men who have seen their jobs sent across the border or overseas, who, yes, believe they're getting a raw deal from demographic shifts that reduce the power of white men, who have broken marriage, debts, and an anger that their government doesn't seem to give a frantic rat fuck about them.
For them, Trump is a voice they needed to hear, Moore said, someone who isn't afraid, someone who can say, "Fuck you" without consequences, someone who can say to Ford that he'll put a 35% tariff on cars not made in the United States or that he'll compel Apple to make iPhones in this country. It doesn't matter whether or not he can do it. The truth doesn't matter. What matters is that these isolated, angry white men hear this and it gives them irrational hope that they can get back some of what they've lost or that they've perceived they've lost, a little power and a decent amount of cash. Voting for Trump turns Americans into "legal terrorists," Moore said, and their votes "are Molotov cocktails thrown into a machine they want to blow up," and, goddamn, doesn't it feel good just to watch shit burn for a while? Then, Moore concluded, a few months later, they'll understand that Trump isn't gonna do any of the shit he said he would. Betrayed again. (Moore wrote a version of this earlier in the year.)
Moore explained why he thought Trump won the debate: because he didn't lose any voters. He didn't gain any new ones, but his voters are standing by him no matter what. Those voters, he believes, are far more energized than Hillary Clinton voters, and that enthusiasm gap is what frightens him into thinking that Trump might very well win this goddamn thing.
So he addressed that, in some really funny terms about the difference between liberals and conservatives. Liberals, he said, are the people who are always losing their keys and waste a fuckload of time looking for them. Conservatives are the type who have the key hooks by the door, all labeled and ordered and they know where the fuck the keys are all the time while liberals are still distracted trying to find theirs. So liberals are mild instead of wild about Clinton, voting for her with a shrug. (I think this undersells genuine energy out there for Clinton, especially post-debate, but point taken.)
And while he doesn't get why people hate Hillary so viscerally, Moore says you shouldn't stop hating her. And on Election Day, "You should wake up hating her. 'Fucking Hillary Clinton.' And you should take a hateful shower" and then you should get in your car, angrily cursing her, and head to your polling place and, spitting and growling about her, force yourself to vote for her. "I've never voted for Hillary," Moore said. But he's going to do it now.
His reasoning was one of those Michael Moore moments where, no matter how glib or didactic or self-righteous he gets, you sit back and think, "Motherfucker, he's right."
Someone in the audience shouted out, "What about Jill Stein?" and Moore gently said that he really does support most of what the Green Party stands for and that he's voted third party a couple of times. But this year, Moore said, "Voting that way just makes you kind of like Trump. You're being narcissistic. You're only voting that way because it makes you feel good to say you didn't vote for Trump or Clinton." Sometimes, Moore continued, "you just gotta suck it up and vote for the good of the country." In other words, Moore, who called Bill Clinton the "best Republican president we ever had," doesn't buy the liberal bullshit that Trump and Clinton are alike. Trump is different. And you're a fucking idiot if you don't get that.
I don't want to spoil the rest of the show for anyone who sees it live or on video (and I'm sure it will be far more polished by next week). But one other moment stood out for its frightening logic. A black student asked if Moore was going to make a film on the police gunning down unarmed black Americans. Moore said he was helping a filmmaker who worked with him before make just such a movie.
This led Moore to wonder what's going to happen when people in a neighborhood start coming out of their homes with guns, not camera phones, to stop the cops from shooting people. "If you had a gun instead of a camera, wouldn't you shoot the cop who's going to murder your husband?" he asked, adding, "Of course you would. Any cop would do that if another cop was about to shoot his wife."
No, Michael Moore is not the cultural powerhouse he once was. He moves much slower, he gets distracted easily, but he's still got a perspective that focuses and gives voice to things we might not know how to articulate. And he remains a necessity to the discourse of politics, especially the discourse of liberalism, in this country.
9/29/2016
Thirteen Years of Rudeness: Whiskey, Sodomy, and a Little Cash
Today marks 13 goddamn years since I started writing this fuckin' blog. That's like 150 in human years. And paying attention to the ins and outs of politics and the political media has probably aged me into something like a corpse propped in a chair in a room in an abandoned mental institution for a few decades, still holding a bottle of decent bourbon.
If someone were to ask if I've learned anything in all this time, let me distill it to a couple of bullet points:
1. Everything gets worse in proportion to everything getting better. When you think that politics can't get any meaner or stupider, there is always a Trump or a Tea Party around the corner, ready to prove you wrong. And when you think humanity is bottoming out with cruelty and apathy, there is always a Supreme Court decision or breathtaking act of generosity or intelligence that makes you think that the asteroid ought to hold off for another day before ripping through the planet.
2. You can always come up with a new sodomy joke. If you can't come up with a new one, you need to participate in more sodomy.
3. Language changes as society changes, and you're a stubborn asshole if you don't change with it. And it's always better to be a dick than an asshole.
4. I honestly never thought I'd be doing this for 13 years. I don't know how much more I've got to say after roughly 8 billion words about the fuckery that infects our ability to make this a more tolerable nation. But every time I think, "Fuck it. I got nothing," well, there's always something. Or I need to participate in more sodomy.
5. I have never regretted never turning on the comments on the blog. You wanna say something, you can do it on Twitter or over on the handy Facebook page, where your anonymity can go fuck itself and where dialogue runs wild and free with very few threats of violence and no goddamn cartoon frogs.
6. Rude readers are awesome.
7. You're stuck with me for the time being. We're all in this shit swamp together. And then we can all share our bread and taco bowls when we're sent to the Trump reeducation camps come 2017.
Note: I'm not doing a fundraiser this year because I'm not needy right now. But I wouldn't be so cruel as to stop you from dropping a nickel or two in the PayPal tip jar over on the side there.
Back later with less navel-gazing rudeness.
If someone were to ask if I've learned anything in all this time, let me distill it to a couple of bullet points:
1. Everything gets worse in proportion to everything getting better. When you think that politics can't get any meaner or stupider, there is always a Trump or a Tea Party around the corner, ready to prove you wrong. And when you think humanity is bottoming out with cruelty and apathy, there is always a Supreme Court decision or breathtaking act of generosity or intelligence that makes you think that the asteroid ought to hold off for another day before ripping through the planet.
2. You can always come up with a new sodomy joke. If you can't come up with a new one, you need to participate in more sodomy.
3. Language changes as society changes, and you're a stubborn asshole if you don't change with it. And it's always better to be a dick than an asshole.
4. I honestly never thought I'd be doing this for 13 years. I don't know how much more I've got to say after roughly 8 billion words about the fuckery that infects our ability to make this a more tolerable nation. But every time I think, "Fuck it. I got nothing," well, there's always something. Or I need to participate in more sodomy.
5. I have never regretted never turning on the comments on the blog. You wanna say something, you can do it on Twitter or over on the handy Facebook page, where your anonymity can go fuck itself and where dialogue runs wild and free with very few threats of violence and no goddamn cartoon frogs.
6. Rude readers are awesome.
7. You're stuck with me for the time being. We're all in this shit swamp together. And then we can all share our bread and taco bowls when we're sent to the Trump reeducation camps come 2017.
Note: I'm not doing a fundraiser this year because I'm not needy right now. But I wouldn't be so cruel as to stop you from dropping a nickel or two in the PayPal tip jar over on the side there.
Back later with less navel-gazing rudeness.
9/28/2016
In Brief: An Implication of Donald Trump's Claim on Opposition to the Iraq War
Lots of commentators commentated on how Republican presidential candidate and moldy cantaloupe in a poorly-tailored suit Donald Trump said, "That makes me smart" when Democratic candidate Hillary Clinton accused him of not paying any federal income tax. The implication of that statement was clear: motherfucker is proud he doesn't pay a thing.
But Trump has said many things with implications that seem to make what he's saying, you know, his words, merely the beginning of a terrible story. For instance, his comparison of airports in the United States to airports in China and Qatar implies that countries with little or no democracy are the only ones that can build successful airports. It certainly cuts out the red tape to have a monarchy, as in Qatar. Trump could have mentioned Munich's gorgeous, efficient airport, but that fucks up the narrative on taxes or something.
More importantly, Trump loves to tout his imaginary opposition to the war in Iraq. Sure, the only things on the record pre-war were his "I guess so" when Howard Stern asked if he supported it, and a sort of shit-or-get-off-the-pot response when Neil Cavuto asked him about it on Fox "news." But, at the debate, Trump proclaimed that he had had private conversations where he argued against the war before it started: "I then spoke to Sean Hannity, which everybody refuses to call Sean Hannity. I had numerous conversations with Sean Hannity at Fox. And Sean Hannity said -- and he called me the other day -- and I spoke to him about it -- he said you were totally against the war, because he was for the war."
That's supposed to absolve Trump, these mythical talks with oddly be-chinned conservadick Sean Hannity. But even back in 2003, if Trump wanted to appear on a Fox "news" show and talk shit, they let him. So why the hell didn't Trump get Hannity to interview him on the air about his opposition? Frankly, it would have started one hell of a conversation if someone as high-profile as Trump was talking against the war in 2002 and early 2003.
Trump likes to say that it was "well-known" that he was against the war. No, it wasn't. And if he was opposed to it (which, c'mon, he wasn't - he was following popular opinion, but let's pretend for the sake of argument), his public silence means he's a fucking wimp who didn't want to piss people off because he was gearing up for a big NBC TV show and protecting what were, at that time, his dwindling assets.
There you go. On the Iraq War, Donald Trump is either a liar or a coward.
But Trump has said many things with implications that seem to make what he's saying, you know, his words, merely the beginning of a terrible story. For instance, his comparison of airports in the United States to airports in China and Qatar implies that countries with little or no democracy are the only ones that can build successful airports. It certainly cuts out the red tape to have a monarchy, as in Qatar. Trump could have mentioned Munich's gorgeous, efficient airport, but that fucks up the narrative on taxes or something.
More importantly, Trump loves to tout his imaginary opposition to the war in Iraq. Sure, the only things on the record pre-war were his "I guess so" when Howard Stern asked if he supported it, and a sort of shit-or-get-off-the-pot response when Neil Cavuto asked him about it on Fox "news." But, at the debate, Trump proclaimed that he had had private conversations where he argued against the war before it started: "I then spoke to Sean Hannity, which everybody refuses to call Sean Hannity. I had numerous conversations with Sean Hannity at Fox. And Sean Hannity said -- and he called me the other day -- and I spoke to him about it -- he said you were totally against the war, because he was for the war."
That's supposed to absolve Trump, these mythical talks with oddly be-chinned conservadick Sean Hannity. But even back in 2003, if Trump wanted to appear on a Fox "news" show and talk shit, they let him. So why the hell didn't Trump get Hannity to interview him on the air about his opposition? Frankly, it would have started one hell of a conversation if someone as high-profile as Trump was talking against the war in 2002 and early 2003.
Trump likes to say that it was "well-known" that he was against the war. No, it wasn't. And if he was opposed to it (which, c'mon, he wasn't - he was following popular opinion, but let's pretend for the sake of argument), his public silence means he's a fucking wimp who didn't want to piss people off because he was gearing up for a big NBC TV show and protecting what were, at that time, his dwindling assets.
There you go. On the Iraq War, Donald Trump is either a liar or a coward.
9/27/2016
Observations on a Brutal Beatdown at Last Night's Presidential Debate
Autoerotic asphyxiation is tricky. Done right, a man who ties a cord or a necktie around his throat and attaches it to a strong doorknob or closet rod can masturbate furiously to an ejaculation that'd blow the paint off the walls. But one wrong move, one moment's lack of attention to detail, and that man can find himself dangling like a discarded marionette, dead, strangled, probably covered in various bodily effluvia. Sure, sure, if you get there at the right time, you can save him. But you've gotta be willing to get your hands slickened with jizz to do it, and, last night, as Hillary Clinton watched Donald Trump choke out in the closet of his belligerence and grandiosity, she not only decided to let him die, but she got freaky and stuck her hand in her slacks to finger herself while Trump gagged on his own tongue. Trump's last thoughts were wild shock since he had been so successful at it so many times before...maybe Hillary rigged the...but then darkness.
At last night's first presidential debate, Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton did everything short of score an obvious knockout punch, which isn't possible against an opponent who seems so willfully oblivious to his own failings as a speaker, as a father, as a husband, as a business owner, as a human being. Indeed, one thing that came through clearly is that Clinton knows how to talk to children, and Republican nominee Donald Trump ran the gamut from toddler having a tantrum to teenager arguing why he should have the keys to the car when his breath smells like beer and weed. Every one of Clinton's looks was that of a parent or grandparent hearing the screaming kid, indulging him for a few minutes, and then demonstrating why she's the fuckin' grown-up, whether he realized it or not.
Oh, sure, sure, at the beginning, there were a couple of moments where Clinton seemed thrown off, especially on her views on the Trans-Pacific Partnership. But instead of taking advantage of that opening, Trump brayed like an ass on meth that he was the reason she might have changed her mind, offering, "[Y]ou heard what I said about it, and all of a sudden you were against it." If anything, she heard what Bernie Sanders said, not really giving a happy monkey fuck what Trump was saying in the early days of the primaries. And, yeah, for a few minutes there, it seemed like vaguely-rational Trump had shown up for the evening. But when the coke wore off, all that was left was a sad, puffy fool raging against a heaving ocean wave that didn't care that he even existed.
Clinton took him apart, piece by piece, attacking everything with a vigor that made it seem like she was just waiting for this moment to go at him. She destroyed him on his sexism (which he piled up on during the debate), she reamed him on his racism, and she ripped his business sense, wisely getting him to tangle himself in the minutiae of leverage debt and excuses for why he didn't pay small businesses for their services. And she wiped the floor with him on his tax returns. I cannot remember a more bizarre moment in a debate than Trump saying, proudly, about not paying any federal income taxes, "That makes me smart." No, motherfucker, that makes you a pathetic worm who gets all the benefits of the government without contributing when you brag about how much money you have. All the while, Clinton put out policy after policy, some of them remarkably detailed for the limited time of a debate. She was especially strong on "systemic racism," again getting her Bernie Sanders on.
Trump continued to be the candidate from Breitbart and Drudge. He brought up conspiracies and dark threats from the conservative fringes, saying them as if everyone in the United States genuinely cares what Sean Hannity says about anything when, really, most Americans would say, "Who?" and a significant portion of the rest would say, "Fuck that guy." So when Trump started bringing up Sidney Blumenthal, a good chunk of the country probably thought, "The fuck is he talking about?" And on the birther issue, shouting like a football fan who thinks that his team scored because of how loud he yelled at the TV, Trump again proclaimed, "I think I did a great job and a great service not only for the country, but even for the president, in getting him to produce his birth certificate." So he's proud that he got the victim of a racist smear to prove the smear wrong, as if ignoring the smear wasn't even an option. That was one of many times in the debate when you could see in Trump's beady, narrow eyes that an adviser's voice was screaming in his head to calm the fuck down and you could see him telling it to shut the fuck up and barreling ahead with the lies and insults. Trump at a couple of points even mocked the idea that facts exist that prove he's a goddamned liar.
Clinton made Trump look like a mental patient cutting off his own dick on issues of security and nuclear weapons (whether or not you agree with her on her approach). See if you can figure out what the fuck Trump is saying here: "Nuclear is the single greatest threat. Just to go down the list, we defend Japan, we defend Germany, we defend South Korea, we defend Saudi Arabia, we defend countries. They do not pay us. But they should be paying us, because we are providing tremendous service and we’re losing a fortune. That’s why we’re losing — we’re losing — we lose on everything. I say, who makes these — we lose on everything. All I said, that it’s very possible that if they don’t pay a fair share, because this isn’t 40 years ago where we could do what we’re doing. We can’t defend Japan, a behemoth, selling us cars by the million..." The look that Clinton gave at these moments was of a hero watching her enemy plunge off the side of a building. Let's not even get into the 400-lb. Chinese hackers Trump seems to fantasize about.
Clinton even got to act completely presidential, assuring our allies that the United States isn't going completely mad. "Words matter when you run for president," she said. "And they really matter when you are president. And I want to reassure our allies in Japan and South Korea and elsewhere that we have mutual defense treaties and we will honor them." It was the closest she came to the knockout because it was, in a few lines, a breathtaking contrast to the blustering, twitchy madman who had been yelling at the nation's allies like he was yelling at a chandelier maker whose bill he didn't want to pay.
This was a fucking disaster for Republicans, and I say that as someone who thought that Romney beat Obama in the first debate in 2012 (so maybe I'm a bit more honest on this shit). Trump did it himself, with a huge assist by Clinton, who, for much of the evening, like moderator Lester Holt, just stepped aside and let Trump wrap the mic cord around his neck and jack off until he gasped his last breath. And he didn't even orgasm before he expired.
Of course, Trump's idiot hordes thought he was incredible, and, of course, Trump blamed everyone and everything for his shit job, as he does all the time. In the classiest move, this morning, Trump continued to fat shame Alicia Machado, the former Miss Universe who he called "Miss Piggy" for gaining weight, as Clinton pointed out last night.
For a man running for president, Donald Trump sure seemed like a crappy reality TV show host. After last night, Trump voters should be vomiting into their "Make America Great Again" caps before throwing them out. But if you still believe he should be the leader of the country, you really are fucking deplorable.
At last night's first presidential debate, Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton did everything short of score an obvious knockout punch, which isn't possible against an opponent who seems so willfully oblivious to his own failings as a speaker, as a father, as a husband, as a business owner, as a human being. Indeed, one thing that came through clearly is that Clinton knows how to talk to children, and Republican nominee Donald Trump ran the gamut from toddler having a tantrum to teenager arguing why he should have the keys to the car when his breath smells like beer and weed. Every one of Clinton's looks was that of a parent or grandparent hearing the screaming kid, indulging him for a few minutes, and then demonstrating why she's the fuckin' grown-up, whether he realized it or not.
Oh, sure, sure, at the beginning, there were a couple of moments where Clinton seemed thrown off, especially on her views on the Trans-Pacific Partnership. But instead of taking advantage of that opening, Trump brayed like an ass on meth that he was the reason she might have changed her mind, offering, "[Y]ou heard what I said about it, and all of a sudden you were against it." If anything, she heard what Bernie Sanders said, not really giving a happy monkey fuck what Trump was saying in the early days of the primaries. And, yeah, for a few minutes there, it seemed like vaguely-rational Trump had shown up for the evening. But when the coke wore off, all that was left was a sad, puffy fool raging against a heaving ocean wave that didn't care that he even existed.
Clinton took him apart, piece by piece, attacking everything with a vigor that made it seem like she was just waiting for this moment to go at him. She destroyed him on his sexism (which he piled up on during the debate), she reamed him on his racism, and she ripped his business sense, wisely getting him to tangle himself in the minutiae of leverage debt and excuses for why he didn't pay small businesses for their services. And she wiped the floor with him on his tax returns. I cannot remember a more bizarre moment in a debate than Trump saying, proudly, about not paying any federal income taxes, "That makes me smart." No, motherfucker, that makes you a pathetic worm who gets all the benefits of the government without contributing when you brag about how much money you have. All the while, Clinton put out policy after policy, some of them remarkably detailed for the limited time of a debate. She was especially strong on "systemic racism," again getting her Bernie Sanders on.
Trump continued to be the candidate from Breitbart and Drudge. He brought up conspiracies and dark threats from the conservative fringes, saying them as if everyone in the United States genuinely cares what Sean Hannity says about anything when, really, most Americans would say, "Who?" and a significant portion of the rest would say, "Fuck that guy." So when Trump started bringing up Sidney Blumenthal, a good chunk of the country probably thought, "The fuck is he talking about?" And on the birther issue, shouting like a football fan who thinks that his team scored because of how loud he yelled at the TV, Trump again proclaimed, "I think I did a great job and a great service not only for the country, but even for the president, in getting him to produce his birth certificate." So he's proud that he got the victim of a racist smear to prove the smear wrong, as if ignoring the smear wasn't even an option. That was one of many times in the debate when you could see in Trump's beady, narrow eyes that an adviser's voice was screaming in his head to calm the fuck down and you could see him telling it to shut the fuck up and barreling ahead with the lies and insults. Trump at a couple of points even mocked the idea that facts exist that prove he's a goddamned liar.
Clinton made Trump look like a mental patient cutting off his own dick on issues of security and nuclear weapons (whether or not you agree with her on her approach). See if you can figure out what the fuck Trump is saying here: "Nuclear is the single greatest threat. Just to go down the list, we defend Japan, we defend Germany, we defend South Korea, we defend Saudi Arabia, we defend countries. They do not pay us. But they should be paying us, because we are providing tremendous service and we’re losing a fortune. That’s why we’re losing — we’re losing — we lose on everything. I say, who makes these — we lose on everything. All I said, that it’s very possible that if they don’t pay a fair share, because this isn’t 40 years ago where we could do what we’re doing. We can’t defend Japan, a behemoth, selling us cars by the million..." The look that Clinton gave at these moments was of a hero watching her enemy plunge off the side of a building. Let's not even get into the 400-lb. Chinese hackers Trump seems to fantasize about.
Clinton even got to act completely presidential, assuring our allies that the United States isn't going completely mad. "Words matter when you run for president," she said. "And they really matter when you are president. And I want to reassure our allies in Japan and South Korea and elsewhere that we have mutual defense treaties and we will honor them." It was the closest she came to the knockout because it was, in a few lines, a breathtaking contrast to the blustering, twitchy madman who had been yelling at the nation's allies like he was yelling at a chandelier maker whose bill he didn't want to pay.
This was a fucking disaster for Republicans, and I say that as someone who thought that Romney beat Obama in the first debate in 2012 (so maybe I'm a bit more honest on this shit). Trump did it himself, with a huge assist by Clinton, who, for much of the evening, like moderator Lester Holt, just stepped aside and let Trump wrap the mic cord around his neck and jack off until he gasped his last breath. And he didn't even orgasm before he expired.
Of course, Trump's idiot hordes thought he was incredible, and, of course, Trump blamed everyone and everything for his shit job, as he does all the time. In the classiest move, this morning, Trump continued to fat shame Alicia Machado, the former Miss Universe who he called "Miss Piggy" for gaining weight, as Clinton pointed out last night.
For a man running for president, Donald Trump sure seemed like a crappy reality TV show host. After last night, Trump voters should be vomiting into their "Make America Great Again" caps before throwing them out. But if you still believe he should be the leader of the country, you really are fucking deplorable.
9/26/2016
In Brief: Time to Re-Re-Re-Re-Re-Meet Hillary Clinton
Think about this for a moment: This is one of the only chances since the Democratic convention that most TV news network viewers will get a chance to hear from Hillary Clinton. Now, I know, I know, you're gonna fuckin' say, "But, wait, there was that time I saw her," and then ask yourself if you'd even need to think for a goddamned second about the last time you saw Donald Trump mouth-shitting all over your nice big flat screen.
Just this month, we saw all three major cable news networks show a Trump town hall while putting a Clinton rally in a tiny box in the corner, which is totally not sexist at all. Back in June, the networks cut away from Trump to go to Clinton, which was so unexpected that it became a huge fuckin' deal. Last week, though, they switched from Clinton giving a speech on disability rights just after five minutes to, in what seemed like a collective sigh of relief, Trump saying the usual hateful stream of dumbconsciousness he usually spouts like a fountain of baby babble.
Otherwise, the only Clinton stories we get over the noise of Trump are the usual parade of whatever scandal-mongering can be squeezed out of the empty toothpaste tube of the emails and the Clinton Foundation, some meaningless fuckin' report on her health, maybe a look at who Bill Clinton put his penis in, and, of course, whether her body language, mouth position, or clothes indicate whether she's ready to be president. All covered in a secret sauce about her secrecy, topped with a Benghazi pickle.
So tonight, for 90 minutes, not only does Donald Trump have to directly confront the person he's been talking shit about for the last couple of years, but the nation gets to see Clinton as a human being and as a candidate who is actually, really running for president. Potentially.
Of course, the spin will be that, as long as Trump doesn't try to stick his stubby dick in her mouth, he wins. And if she says something cutting about him, she's a cruel harpy. And, god, why is she so boring by being smart?
But maybe, for a little while, the country can meet Hillary Clinton again. It's a fucking shame that we're so pathetically enamored of the smell of Trump's farts that this is where we are in this stupid election. Too many people don't know Clinton's positions on most things, and a few of them might actually give a shit about such things.
Don't worry, though, CNNMSNBCFox, you can go back to ignoring her for a couple of weeks after this.
(Note: I'll be live-tweeting this thing, and I'll be on Rabble, snarking live during the debate with the lovable Jeff Kreisler.)
Just this month, we saw all three major cable news networks show a Trump town hall while putting a Clinton rally in a tiny box in the corner, which is totally not sexist at all. Back in June, the networks cut away from Trump to go to Clinton, which was so unexpected that it became a huge fuckin' deal. Last week, though, they switched from Clinton giving a speech on disability rights just after five minutes to, in what seemed like a collective sigh of relief, Trump saying the usual hateful stream of dumbconsciousness he usually spouts like a fountain of baby babble.
Otherwise, the only Clinton stories we get over the noise of Trump are the usual parade of whatever scandal-mongering can be squeezed out of the empty toothpaste tube of the emails and the Clinton Foundation, some meaningless fuckin' report on her health, maybe a look at who Bill Clinton put his penis in, and, of course, whether her body language, mouth position, or clothes indicate whether she's ready to be president. All covered in a secret sauce about her secrecy, topped with a Benghazi pickle.
So tonight, for 90 minutes, not only does Donald Trump have to directly confront the person he's been talking shit about for the last couple of years, but the nation gets to see Clinton as a human being and as a candidate who is actually, really running for president. Potentially.
Of course, the spin will be that, as long as Trump doesn't try to stick his stubby dick in her mouth, he wins. And if she says something cutting about him, she's a cruel harpy. And, god, why is she so boring by being smart?
But maybe, for a little while, the country can meet Hillary Clinton again. It's a fucking shame that we're so pathetically enamored of the smell of Trump's farts that this is where we are in this stupid election. Too many people don't know Clinton's positions on most things, and a few of them might actually give a shit about such things.
Don't worry, though, CNNMSNBCFox, you can go back to ignoring her for a couple of weeks after this.
(Note: I'll be live-tweeting this thing, and I'll be on Rabble, snarking live during the debate with the lovable Jeff Kreisler.)
9/23/2016
If I Could Talk to Ted Cruz Right Now, Here Are a Few Things I'd Tell Him
Upon hearing that Ted Cruz endorsed Donald Trump for president, a few thoughts went through my head. They were things I'd say directly to the sad senator, if I had the chance to say them to him.
1. Man, I hope that golden plate of shit you're eating sure tastes good.
2. Did Trump at least give you a reacharound while he was fucking you in the ass? What am I saying? Of course, he didn't give you a reacharound.
3. So I assume that your father did work with Lee Harvey Oswald.
4. And that you've decided that Heidi is kind of ugly.
5. What breed of servile puppy dog are you now?
6. They make spines cheap these days. They disappear just a little while after you start using them.
7. It's good to know that terrible people continue to be terrible, even when they've had a chance at redemption.
8. Holy crap, they must be laughing at you in Trump Tower tonight. Like, really deep, gasping guffaws.
9. I just want to know: did you give away a night with Heidi, too?
10. Mostly, though, the turds are sitting there on the shiny plate, just waiting to be devoured by a mouth too eager for approval.
11. Honestly, this act of pure cowardice couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.
1. Man, I hope that golden plate of shit you're eating sure tastes good.
2. Did Trump at least give you a reacharound while he was fucking you in the ass? What am I saying? Of course, he didn't give you a reacharound.
3. So I assume that your father did work with Lee Harvey Oswald.
4. And that you've decided that Heidi is kind of ugly.
5. What breed of servile puppy dog are you now?
6. They make spines cheap these days. They disappear just a little while after you start using them.
7. It's good to know that terrible people continue to be terrible, even when they've had a chance at redemption.
8. Holy crap, they must be laughing at you in Trump Tower tonight. Like, really deep, gasping guffaws.
9. I just want to know: did you give away a night with Heidi, too?
10. Mostly, though, the turds are sitting there on the shiny plate, just waiting to be devoured by a mouth too eager for approval.
11. Honestly, this act of pure cowardice couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.
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