So Damned Angry

April 22, 2017

I am angry, have been for the last one-hundred-sixty-five days – since the fake election. Angry that the Donald has been forcibly injected into my life by a coalition of American and Russian idiot tribes. Before the 2016 campaign, I conducted a Trump-free life – didn’t read about him, didn’t watch his crappy TV show, didn’t stay in his tacky hotels; it’s was a better time. And it’s gone now, because of a bunch of dumb-asses.

Dumb-asses who couldn’t see enough difference between Clinton and Trump to make it worth voting. If you didn’t vote, please stop reading this and go to your holy man, shrink or whomever you go to for soul maintenance and ask for help. Perhaps, you thought Trump wouldn’t affect you? Well, you’ll think again when he starts charging you to pay his companies to build a huge beautiful wall.

And when he does build his wall, how long until he privatizes it?   A good con: first, trick the mark into paying for something they don’t need. Then, complete the con by shifting ownership to owners you own. Watch for it.

Pisses me off.

Frankly, it’s way too early to embrace the notion that we need to embrace Trump supporters because they have real problems and felt ignored. Really? Everyone has real problems and feels ignored – except for the Donald, who has imaginary problems, but does feels ignored.

Once again dumb-asses; if people think Trump can roll back the clock and bring back all those great manufacturing jobs they be dumb-asses. China has cheap property, cheaper labor and, fucking factories that manufacture factories. They learned capitalism from us; those jobs are staying there for a long time.

If you worship capitalism, don’t be surprised when your consumption becomes a sacrament. It’s just the way it works, dumb-ass. (Not you, gentle reader; was ranting at dumb-ass Trump loyalist. This seems to be getting away from me – like a Navy carrier strike group, if you know what I mean.)

And that’s where the anger stops… and something new begins. Strike groups, missiles, a raving lunatic in charge – no, not new.  This feels old, familiar. Something from back during the cold-war, resigned fear. Yeah, hello darkness my old friend.

The republic apologies for dragging you down an angry path only to plagiarize the conclusion from Paul Simon. I suspect I need more music and less Donald in my diet. How about you?

In Peace and Justice
osv