Massive Testosterone Poisoning
April 16, 2017
We need to keep an eye on him when he gets like this. The Donald’s a sensitive guy and elevated hormone levels are to be expected. After all, what good is power without veneration? Plus, he’s become accustomed to a certain level of attention. Let’s call it a reasonable expectation, given his alpha-male position.
So, just who does that little Korean, Kim Jong-un, guy think he is? You don’t upstage the Donald, just ask Steve Bannon. Yet, there he is flashing his tiny equipment, talking trash, dominating valuable column-inches that, rightfully, should be all Donald. Not cool.
It’s ironic how two guys, guys who’ve never met, who live on separate continents, can succumb to the same malady, at the same time. It’s like they had the same bad mushrooms, or drank the same tainted energy drink or shared the same shitty upbringing. But, regardless of cause, their symptoms of testosterone poisoning are as obvious as a runway after an airstrike.
And there’s no modern cure.
Traditionally, when a couple guys worked themselves up into this state, we would just form a circle and let them have-at it. Fists flew, blood was let, wagers were won and lost – it was entertaining and eventually the poisoning subsided, either by virtue of exhaustion or, on occasion, death. Then life moved on – pretty much only the infected were affected.
Now, its’s complicated. The real alphas don’t fight for themselves anymore. No, they hire or otherwise compel others to handle those details, while they “make the hard decisions”. In technologically clever places they even have machines to do the fighting. This, of course, leads to tragic assumptions regarding consequence; since the big shots don’t get hurt, they view consequences in the abstract. Other people, body count…
But guys with testosterone poisoning don’t think in the abstract. They are here and now, self, don’t really see others, except for the challenger, the enemy. In the interest of public safety, they probably should be restrained, but instead they become political leaders. Odd how that works.
The republic feels we should reconsider traditional ways. If the Donald and Kim want to fight they may do so, with each other. We suspect the result of such a cage-match would be one opponent dead from a heart attack, though which one remains a mystery.
While the last one-hundred-fifty-nine days, since that fucking election, haven’t been all that much fun there’s no need to end them just because two assholes have massive testosterone poisoning.
In Peace and Justice,