Sadly, No!

“Another night up and down, up and down, up and down, like a literal elevator in here…”

Failing with tremendous aplomb to allow Circe the goddess of dreamsMythology to take control of the ship and take her out for a, hell, a three hour tour, would be appreciated at this point…And whip up some tiresome entertainment leaving me spent and ready for sleep when I disembarked….But for some reason I suck, am out of favor with the gods, or who knows, currently under some Odyssey or somesuch so here we are.

Among the shit racing through my mind chiefly among them looms like a poorly fitted suit crumpled up in the chair in the corner that I see in a flash out of the corner of my eye upon waking with a shock and realize that it is a pile of my clothes, and that I am alone in bed, and that a quick check with the hand indicates that I do indeed still have a full head of curly hair, and that I am not a shirtless, balding, bespectacled, short, fat guy, from queens, just a very tired opposite of all that, dude in recovery from a shitload of trauma with an unstoppable train of gears spinning a’skull…

I wouldn’t call ’em Trumpmares exactly, because to be honest, the continued bucket footing and clomping around in arguably the least presidential fashion in the course of history still has its charms, and so far the bucket brigade that followed him into congress are led by two morrass-ons more concerned currently, with their legacy, than with burning the place to the ground…I would imagine that some phones have been burning up in certain district offices about taking away grannies healthcare, and that they are feeling the heat that that wily negro had baked into the system when he did that most Hitlarian thing in the history of the misuse of Hitler metaphors, and gave everybody, and the poors included, a chance to enjoy that modicum of security that health care as a right provides…You know, the same one enjoyed by every other civilized nation on this Planet of Earth!

So that Wily Wabbit has Elmer Trump bucket footing through the wood with loaded shotgun preceded by the cloud of woodland fowl this horror alights in front of him giving bugs enough warning to provide time to set up staging, a stage itself for the denouement, sell tickets and pack the house, because he knows that everybody loves seeing Elmer be-sooted after he has managed, once again to shoot himself in the face and destroy yet another gun at the same time.

So far this one is the best of the bunch, though there was a momentary thread that had one in which Trump was George Costanza’s younger brother, but I could not bring that one to shore, nor find a good image of Fudd with destroyed gun, but I am sure you know what I am talking about…
…

I caught a bit of the head moving its mouth on my teebee screen this morning and there is just something about it that captures my attention…In some ways and on some days I just cant look away, but then he is one of them, well heeled, republican, and wholly without merit or taste, he manages to bestride the world like the underpants gnome hiding in the underwear of a child wearing a costume of a Collossus, the person to whom I refer is one Jeffrey Lord: Behold, his magnificence.

The one once spotted usually means its time for that Seinfeld rerun or any other dvd that might already be in the player. And I will leave you with this to bask in!

And also I would like to move from steerage to the top of the page a comment that in its own way, something, something, from commenter *sad* who shares “If it works then it’s not stupid.”

And I realize that I cant argue with that, for I fail the subterranean acumen required to even cypher the meaning, let alone a stick of length that would allow me to properly and safely probe it without fear of blowback….

I thought that the title would be difficult to type, and then I thought it might be difficult to look at, but then realized that I have finally come to terms with the result of the selection past and must embrace an even more horrifying reality than the previous one which would keep me up at night. The idea that we might have to deal with preznit MoneyBooBoo™ for the foreseeable future, while praying that the Republicons™ got their brand protecting-impeachment-related, activities under way, leading of course, to a charming Blue eyed dreamy, Black-haired minx™* to be installed in the White-House has not been among the most comforting scenarios to contemplate, but did seem like the best possible case scenario only if it meant that I would not have to look old pursed-lipped, pussy grabber, in the face, nor listen to that shit-marsh be called President on my teebee screen…

As soon as the election was finished and that it quickly became clear that there were irregularities discovered that seemed to lack precedence and managed to uniquely favor on candidate over the other, I had my doubts. It may be that I am simply a partisan hack, or it may be that I am  a Historian and remember paying rapt attention to the TV screen as it was well past my bedtime awaiting the results of the 1972 election with my parents, whose anxiety was palpable…I was in second grade at the time and one of two McGovern Voters in the mock election held in our class, the other guy, was my best bud at the time…I believe that I delivered my first speech in front of class in favor of McGovern…It was for whom my parents were voting, not necessarily an act of honor or independence.

The point of that vignette is that I have paid particular attention to presidential election year politics from a very young age, and close attention to all of it earlier than most are inclined…Which I guess makes me somewhat unusual or not, but definitely an active consumer of news (the real stuff) since then, and in a way it is kind of funny that this existential dread I feel, reminds me of the mood after Nixon won term two, that permeated the house of my childhood, as my parents had done quite a bit of work with the local democratic party that year…

So now 44 years later we have yet another, this time gilded, fox looking after the hen-house and this one might just be the ApocalyptiFox™ the one with:

“eyes like steel, cold and hard, and a shock of hair, yellow, like the fires from hell”

*Paul Ryan
…

Elisabeth Sabaditsch-Wolff, the world’s foremost authority on, well, nothing, is* on the road in the good old USA. Aren’t you lucky, dear US-based readers! Anyhoo, the Austrian Pamela Geller has a lot to do, between giving speeches at pro-Trump rallies and briefing state politicians about life in Europe.

In addition, I explained how Chancellor Angela Merkel had recently redefined a German from a citizen to anyone living in Germany. This ensures plenty of potential voters in future elections, voters who will not vote for the opposition parties, thus keeping Angela Merkel in power to change the face of Germany even further.

The fact that you hadn’t heard about the German Chancellor magically granting the millions of non-citizens living in Germany full citizenship and voting rights [lucky me!] is surely proof that the liberal media doesn’t want you to know anything. Including how the German political system works, or the fact that if one of the ‘traditional’ parties ever were to support such a move, it sure as fuck wouldn’t be Merkel’s CDU (let alone the crazier bunch at the CSU). That doesn’t mean, of course, that Merkel didn’t say something that contained words.

„Und deshalb gibt es auch keinerlei Rechtfertigung, dass sich kleine Gruppen aus unserer Gesellschaft anmaßen, zu definieren wer das Volk ist. Das Volk ist jeder, der in diesem Lande lebt.“

So Merkel says: “…there’s no justification for small groups (i.e. the far-right Alternative for Germany and Pegida) in our society to claim the right to define who is German. German are all those who live here.”

A normal person might read this, or a similar statement made by Merkel last December, and conclude she’s calling out those who claim that you can’t be Muslim and German. It certainly isn’t true that all those who live in Germany are German citizens [not lucky me then, I guess]. And she wasn’t saying she wants to make all non-citizens into citizens. If I were into that sort of thing, I might give Merkel’s statement the shorter treatment and write “I’m not going to turn into a racist asshole.” Then again, I’m not one to long for the good old days when Germans were white Christians, but apparently going on about rich Jews conspiring to destroy ‘our’ country hasn’t yet gotten old. Sabaditsch-Wolff continues:

We don’t know for certain that Soros is behind it, although we know that his organizations are involved. (a) Some of his organizations are among those that own and operate the boats picking up migrants in the Med off the coast of Libya. (b) His organizations were discovered to have printed maps and helpful instruction sheets handed out to migrants during the great exodus of 2015.

And now for the punchline — the one essential freedom that patriotic citizens could previously enjoy with impunity and which has now been taken away:

Prison sentences are now handed out … for putting bacon on the door handle of a mosque.

Maybe they can just smash the windows instead.

* Actually, she was on the road in the good old USA. Except that before I could finish this post, I managed to dislocate and fracture my big left toe which, it turns out, is just as much fun as it sounds.

Depicted above, Mike Konrad’s idea of a trans elder.

Mike Madeupname, American Streetcorner Prophet:
Transgenderism and Cancer

So things are in an “interesting” state at the moment.

The right, filled with pestilent hatred of everything and anything different from them has awkwardly celebrated the idea of winning for the sake of winning, assuming the fascist swing of their authoritarian dear leader du jour would only thwack us filthy liberals in the jaw and teach us all a lesson about ever thinking we can be full human beings again.

But that’s a really hard thing to do these days. Cause it turns out nazis are actually really fucking bad at actually running a country and so we’ve got an imploding mess more and more obviously installed by a foreign power and getting less and less able to hide it that is face-planting against the sole branch of the Government that hasn’t been co-opted into the fascist state… yet.

And that has culminated in a national budget proposal which would make a first-act Dickensian villain go “hang on now, I know I said they should die and decrease the surplus population, but this is going too far”. Which, you know, when you’re a shaky fascist state who is constantly pissing off your security detail and the security organizations that protect you, it’s a real good idea to make it so poor folks have literally no means of survival and nothing to lose in fighting you. Great life lessons from King Louis XVI there.

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There’s nothing much I can add to Steve’s excellent summary of Amber Phillips’ inane The sorry state of political discourse right now, in five Bernie Sanders tweets.

Perhaps one compromise we can offer, for the Ambers of the world, is to refer to The Donald as “President MC 900 Ft. Jesus” and let readers figure out what the fuck we mean. Still, this blog wouldn’t be what it is were it not for its unhealthy obsession with Seinfeld. That means we have to quote this from Amber’s piece:

To say someone’s lying suggests that you know they don’t believe what they’re saying. It’s possible Trump believes the allegations he’s making[.]

Remember that Amber is upset that Bernie labeled President MC 900 Ft. Jesus a liar for tweets that said the following allegations are lies:

Even if President MC 900 Ft. Jesus is the new George Costanza, there’s not now (and for points 1 and 2 there never was) any credible evidence that the claims/statements made are/were true. Does President Youppi believe his statements to be true? If you want to stick your neck out for The Donald and get the vapors when someone calls him a liar, you might just have to accept that the only reasonable alternative is that he is even dumber than Douglas Jay Feith. Either way, we’re pretty much fucked.

Just had to leave the CNN on in the TV room to get away from the new marketing plan for the Trump Administration, during a piece which started immediately after a puffball interview with Dubya hisownself…

Be prepared to shit your pants folks, or at least keep some nose plugs handy, because they are trolling out that old dog Terrorism again and the pitch this time is that it is home grown and that we need to be very concerned, and let daddy do what he needs to to save the family dog…And it would not surprise me if this request came with the added lure of pre-emption for added safety see, and maybe some closed in restful places where people can go for a long ; hide out in safety while the authorities comb the neighborhood for lock-boxes, secreted stashes, caches, and other un-banked valuablesTerrorists, Terror plots, random Negros, Messicans not currently employed(as in working right this minute), musicians, bloggers, and anything else the Department of Fatherland Security can slapdash on a warrant or watch-list.

It feels a little bit like I have seen this episode of a really bad sitcom before, and before I take a moment to laud what would appear a nascent intent to improve the planet by recycling; this particular operation, like its antecedent seems only designed to offload truck loads of cash from the treasury into well connected numbered Swiss bank accounts. We will keep an eye on developments while suggesting that you suit up in the bunny jammies and cower in fear until dear leader gives the all clear!

Right Side News, the estranged cousin of the poor man’s Renew America, has a post on the constitutionality of President Youppi’s Muslim Ban. I don’t want to add anything to what they write, but did want to highlight the picture that accompanies the post. It’s either a truly great piece of trolling or, quite simply, just what it looks like: des vidanges.

Speaking of trash: I would like to join much of the internet in consternation over the fact that the mere ability to honor a fallen soldier and thank his widow is all that is required to be seen as presidential. Maybe we can get Secretary De Vos to let us know whether The Donald showed proficiency or growth on Tuesday. I think it’s clear by which standard even the liberal Van Jones grades his presidents. Maybe when the next grossly unqualified person wants to become president, he can start off his first big debate by wetting himself, not being in the right city, saying something overtly racist, and pulling his dick out, begin plucking it and shout “Willy Banjo!” [link]. Showing growth should be easy enough after that.

Just heard that on the news on the TV, Brian Williams and Katy Tur were talking when that fact was presented and I immediately thought, Oh Holy Fuck, shit is getting real, real, son! They just took Donald’s pacifier away from him and his favorite blanky…Donald without his twitter machine? No Fucking way…

The only way I can see this working for even a moment is that they have his twitter on a secure network with a fake twitter and a battery of agents to interact and retweet Donald’s Tweets so that the activity seems *real* as to not tip him off…This is the only way I can see this play without Money BooBoo going ballistic.

If there is a chance that there is a glimmer of adult inside that avatar of avarice I can not see this turning out well, especially as this report accompanies news about proof of Russian involvement in the election, exactly the type of thing that you would expect to be followed by “fake news” and other now familiar stupfTides* *’Stupid fucking Trumpian Bromides’ that clutter his tweeting vocabulary…

Now before we go all in on what might just be a bit of wistful hyperbolic whimsy, It would be interesting to discover how many times the Donald has gone more than 12 hours, between tweeting some moronic observational aside, period. And this should be relatively easy to find out…

This money is betting on “not once since he discovered how to use the twitter machine and got his first rush of that sweet sweet tweet buzz!”

And with that, i think it might be time to fire up the popcorn machine and await for the next fuckup.

Buzz Windrop is a name that popped into my head while watching a bit of the news this morning, before letting the dog out back to ‘do his chores’ as my host and adoptive mother has it, because it is all republican all the time on the TV these days, and boy do the ‘Roy’s from Themthare’n’hill’s’ are good for ratings in Moron America, which means good for Advertisers, just not so good for the rest of us…The Metastacy has broken loose from the dainty chains of civility to reveal itself plain, in the open, for all of us to behold, for some to breathe deeply and face every new dawn with a smug little smile and a mental pat on the back and think “Finally!” And for others, and in this bunch I include myself, to wake again to what appears to be a fresh hell and attempt to deal with it best we can, each in our own way…For me, this morning I awoke thinking of the Sinclair Lewis classic “It can’t Happen Here” which inspired the title for this rant, and Senator Buzz Windrop which if memory serves seems like a template for the current situation in which we are moored…

This gag/dis-positive notion did carry with it a slight bonus…That I pulled all of that shit, unassisted, right out of my ass/brain this morning; the Title, the Character, and the Author, as well as a bit of the plot and its relevance to our current situation, which suggests that more of my memory is being recovered/indexed or my internal librarian has finally shaken off her long sleep and is back at the helm…So in a purely Yay fucking Me! way, this horrible realization does in fact come with that positive note.

So I don’t think we have done this yet, or if we have, forgive me, but I think it may be time to start a pool on when this Russian-hacked house of cards begins to crumble in such a way that even Tom Brokaw is forced to put on his depends and big boy suit and suggest that the man has gone too far…

I weep for the passing of Cronkite, Walter; Rather, Dan, and other class acts since passed or retired MEN of import, respect, and courage, who would be eviscerating this tin pot tiny handed terror on a nightly basis, and whose only fear would be the missile tests targeting their property (country places, of course.) Yet would keep up a drumbeat that would drive a Toddler-Id’ed entitled Moron with no discernible sense of propriety crazy, and eventually from office…

I saw a bit of an interview with Dubya the other night and found it fascinating how well he has aged and how sane he sounds and realized in horror that The presence of Trump has rehabilitated every last one of the Rat fucking assholes that brought him to us like one piece at a time to a laboratory in a bunker in Washington to assemble the president of their wildest imagination.

I almost feel like there was a bet to see who could in fact, break Hyperbole as a concept, or an effective humor delivery vehicle, and that the winning team submitting Trump to the panel after everybody had finished having a big old hearty laugh or three, the panel realized that these guys might be on to something and awarded them the prize, and here we are…

AndnowIwillfactcheckthisthing…Afterpublishingitfirst!