Got to admit, I still don’t have a coherent response to the catastrophe of 11/8.
There are odds and ends slipping in and out of ol’ Mister Brain, but none of them, so far, have turned into full-blown inspiration. They’re merely little vision fragments—random threads and bubbles and phrases and scraps that try as I might, I cannot weave into a more comprehensive presentation. It’s like I’ve been sucker-punched from behind by someone I thought was a friend as I was getting out of the car on my way to a big, happy party, and a week and a half later, my eyes still aren’t focusing and I keep getting these damn dizzy spells.
Or, is it more like I was standing in a broad, green, fragrant field, watching the most beautiful sunrise ever on what was promising to be the greatest day ever, and then a great big ugly fucking sinkhole opened up beneath me and now I’m neck deep in mud and shit and can’t move my legs or arms?
Or possibly, it is like I had drifted off to sleep before a warm cheery fire, wrapped in an afghan my Mommy knitted for me back when I was young and hopeful and was just sure everything would turn out okay, and then the next-door neighbor asshole, whom I’ve hated ever since he called animal control on me once because my dog barked a few times, comes running into the room laughing like a maniac, throws a bucket of ice water in my face, and crows, “Ha ha ha, dummy! Your house is on fire!”
So then, as you can see, I’m still struggling to pin this turd down … or whatever it is one does with turds … and it would appear I’m not alone in this confusion. Half of us (the losers) are still looking for someone to blame for our lady losing, half are fishing around for ways to undo the results, all while a third half is insisting on how this (or that) is what we must do to get beyond this (or that) and do battle with the beast that beat us.
Beyond all that, there is this stomach-churning vibe in the air that has us (the losers) asking amongst ourselves how … or if … we can possibly go back to being friends with people we know voted for the beast.
Hey, don’t look to me for advice with that dilemma, either. I’ve lost so much respect for my fellow Caucasian-Americans that I’m seriously thinking of expatriating my ass into another ethnic group.
As you know if you’ve followed my opinions for any time at all, I am not one to see silver linings in storm clouds. I am generally satisfied enough simply to call the clouds “stupid, ignorant f***ing dumbshits,” and to let more optimistic, positive souls seek out the silver linings.
However, as this last week has shown, neither I nor Hillary Clinton had anticipated just how many stupid, ignorant f***ing dumbshits are living in our land, and that a crap-load of them have been hiding out there in the weeds, just waiting for a King among stupid, ignorant f***ing dumbshits to arise and find them that voice they have heretofore been too f***ing stupid and ignorant to find for themselves.
And with all the bickering, all the depression, all the bitching and moaning and blaming and fantasizing and despairing and hand-wringing and fear and alienation that has been going on for 10 days now, I feel we (the losers) need to re-focus our attentions on what we know for sure, and what we know is working in our favor. They are not insignificant silver linings, these, firstly because they are indisputable, and secondly because they give us something to work with.
1) Hillary has won the popular vote, and by no puny margin. The final tally probably won’t be known for several days, if not weeks, but as of now, her lead is in the solid neighborhood of one million votes. Knowing this, we can take some comfort that there are still more people in America who are not stupid, ignorant f***ing dumbshits than Americans who are.
We are not the minority party, my friends. We are simply the party that lost.
2) Almost without fail, the party that wins a presidential election loses Congressional seats in the subsequent midterms. Even though Hillary lost the electoral count, Democrats gained at least two seats in the Senate, and very possibly three—meaning that they are three (or two) seats away from taking that swine McConnell’s gavel away from him. Seeing as how a Senate majority is the most effective way to thwart a president’s ambitions, we are a mere two years of intensive effort away from turning this no-class prick’s presidency into a failure.
In the meantime, I have three words for Chuck Schumer, the new Senate minority leader: Filibuster! Filibuster! Filibuster!
3) We are fortunate that the no-class prick’s central constituency are stupid, ignorant f***ing dumbshits. I don’t give them credit for having the intelligence for long-term commitment or planning. Now that they believe they’ve punished all those know-it-all smart people in their dreary little lives, their attentions will drift and before we know it, they won’t be able to identify a photo of Mike Pence or find Washington D.C. on a map.
Yet our biggest ally in destroying Donald Trump will always be Donald Trump. We can go forward confident that he will never disappoint us when we need more evidence to show what an empty-skulled horse’s ass he is. And given his inability to restrain his insane ego, especially when being ridiculed, I have three words for every American—large or small, highly placed or lowly citizen, famous face or face in the crowd—who recognizes him for the monster he is: Ridicule! Ridicule! Ridicule!
Taken together, it is incumbent upon both our party’s leaders, whether in Congress or state and municipal government, and us—the clear majority of American citizens—to resist, to reject, to block, to mock, to oppose, to object, to denounce and deride … whatever it takes to poke, prod and infuriate this paltry excuse for a human being into unleashing the full foulness of his soul. We mustn’t let him hide his corruption under a veil of respectability.
And if you’re concerned that your unremitting opposition to this abomination might alienate friends who continue to support him and the damage he is preparing to wreak on our nation, trust me … you don’t need friends like that. I know from personal experience that you really won’t miss them after they’re out of your lives.
It may even be a relief they’re gone.