I started this blog a couple of years ago for two reasons.  One was to shut my old high school friend’s, Anne Mitchell Whisnant’s, big yapper pestering me to do so ;-). The other, to give me further platform to placate my need to yell maddeningly into the great void about the horror of my own countrymen selling my country for scrap to a carnie madman born of an inbred plutocracy and seductively wrapped in a  monstrous bible-flag hybrid amalgam sentient skin around a Cletus Kassidy-level serial killing narcissist.   But I’ve found myself so disheartened and overwhelmed with the developments, or should I say “lack of”, over the last couple of years that I’ve lost my voice, so to speak.  Nobody gives a jack fuck.  Nobody.  I have grown hoarse for screaming and warning and have sadly  taken to the hypnotic and helpless, though sickly entertaining stare of watching bodies one after the other self-immolate in seething service to a demon of their own design.   If people insist on burning themselves alive and continue to refuse the water to save them, what can one do?  Then again, when said burning bodies set the rest of the house on fire and STILL nobody gives a fuck, well…how do you deal with that?  Anyone?  Bueller?

The appropriately named Carnage could not be a better nom de asswipe for one Donald J. Trump, America murderer.  That’s not a typo, kids.  I didn’t leave off the “n”.  Donald Trump IS a murderer of the highest order.  And given a different societal birth and status, he most assuredly would have been a literal one, I’ve no doubt.  Then again, can one be called a murderer if one allows said murderer to gut themselves while smiling into the face of the madman they have invited to do so?  To paraphrase John Prine, “A question ain’t really a question if you know the answer, too.”  Yeah.  Guess not.  But what DO you call the person you invite to murder you?  Apparently, here we call it “Mr. President”.  At any rate, Trump would have made a helluva different movie had he been in the Dan Aykroyd role in “Trading Places“. 

Two things happened today of huge, ground-swelling historical significance.  One of these was not here in America and was foreseen and braced for over some time:  BREXIT has finally taken effect.  The second, and arguably the more horrific, if not just the most anguished, is that the Senate, during the impeachment trial, voted to not allow witnesses during Trump’s impeachment “trial” in essence, ending the impeachment process.  In one fell swoop the American Senate washed their hands of Trump’s crimes, then did Pontius Pilate one better and gave him the throne completely, rather than a shitload of lashings.  Yeah.  Those things happened today and I’m feeling  the words fall flat even as I type them.

Let me try this again.  Today.  In the new cradle of democracy, in the very HEART of our nation’s constitutional body, at the very central node for all things America ever has and would ever be, at the nucleus of the machine that controls and gives birth to the very laws that give us our breath and sustenance…  At this command center of freedoms came the greatest blow to freedom that I believe our country has EVER given itself.  Not just willingly, but gleefully.  And far from overwhelmingly, which I’m not sure makes it better or worse.  But by a “vote” of  51-49.  Today, the scribes of our country knowingly and purposefully argued that one of the greatest crimes against our country would not only go unpunished, but that no one would be even given the opportunity to raise one hand against it. A trial was held and NO WITNESS WILL BE CALLED.  None.  NONE.  First, there was no trial, and then there was a trial, and then there was none…or something like that, my apologies to Donovan.  Not a single person will be allowed to even speak FOR, let alone against, the president in a trial about the president in the very chamber that allows the president to even fucking exist.   Today, law would not be practiced by lawmakers in the law factory of the one fucking country where law is held the most sacrosanct fucking thing in the world.  Well, next to Jesus and queer-bashing, anyway.

It’s Official: John Bolton Won’t Testify Against Trump, and Neither Will Anyone Else

If you were looking for an exact moment to declare Democracy officially dead in America…you have your moment. THIS is the nadir…the fulcrum. Ground zero of the long-coming impact over the last years since 9/11. THIS marks the true death of our nation as a free country. As a republic. Today, we officially swore our allegiance to dictatorship. And that is no fucking joke. Today, we embraced servitude and plutocracy over freedom and self rule. Today, we openly embraced, not just tolerated, our subjugation to demagoguery.  Today, we sold ourselves out, not for 30 pieces of silver. But for the right of others to take all the silver they want, whenever they want, however they want.  

Today, we betrayed ourselves and earned the destruction to further come.  And yeah, it will.   Trump will be reelected. Our country will deteriorate deeper into madness and tailspin into a crumbled decay of past glory.  Today, we opened the door to the rest of the modern world taking over where we left off. Today, we saw the exact moment of the fall of Rome and welcomed in the Dark Ages, again. And we fucking LOVED it! 

How are the streets not swarming?  How are windows not being shattered and stores not being looted, dumpsters set on fire?   How are the streets clear and functional, weather permitting?  How are people standing in line bitching about the spelling of their names on their goddam coffee cups like it’s a regular fucking Friday before a goddam Super Bowl?  How are people downloading fucking commercials two days before said commercials are supposed to televise?  WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK IS FUCKING HAPPENING HERE!!!!!

I can’t.  I just can’t.  I just cannot bear another day of this madness.  I really cannot.   Did no one see what happened today?  Do we really just not fucking care in the least what happens anymore.  Do you not realize what we did?  We elected a king today.  We.  Elected. A.  King.  Right in the heart of “No More Kings” Grand Central Station.   Right there in the very chamber where we stab the beasts that threaten our democracy with dictatorship, we gave the gilded key to a gilded solipsist on a gilded throne.  Almost literally.  Almost.

Is anyone else crying right now?  Anyone?  Anyone at all?  Anyone showing any king of emotion about having given away our democracy today?  So simply and so easily?  THIS is what we’re going to allow?  THIS is the path we want?  We desire THIS?  For the sickest, most disgusting, most nefarious of all of us, we are willing to allow this prima nocta against our liberty so this monster can bloody his fist just for the sick pleasure of it?  For the sake of cowards and thieves to continue their cowardice and thievery unabated, we drove the last nail into liberty.  And not one person today said a goddam thing.  Not one.  I mean, in real life.

I’ve lost friends and family over the last three years.  I’ve been questioned and accused and mocked.  I’ve been ignored and belittled and ostracized.  And I don’t mean ALL of it from the usual shit I do.  I mean specifically because of Trump’s presence in the White House.  And I have grown numb and voiceless from it.  I don’t have the eloquence of George Carlin or the balls of Bill Hicks or the nuance of Jon Stewart.  But goddam it, what the fuck already?  Do you need such powers of persuasion to simply point out a smoldering pile a shit so other people don’t step in it?  How the fuck was I to know I’d get bitch slapped while they decided to lie down in said pile of smoldering shit and rub in on their faces like a twisted parody of the mud scene in Python’s “Holy Grail”. 

God bless America. America is dead. Long live…whatever the fuck this is. But it damn sure ain’t that.   I don’t know what America can do after today.  Oh, I know WHAT it’ll do.  Same shit, different day.  Gorge, purge, repeat.  Whatever the pleasure or avarice.  It will suckle at the teat of inept complacency and double down whenever someone politely pokes them to “mind the gap”, bitches.  And when it does get sucked down onto the tracks and looks down to see itself severed at the knees, I’ll be goddam if I’m gonna cry on THAT fucking day or offer my hand.  Go fucking bury your faces in the coming Coliseum spectacular Sunday, folks. Nothing to see here but the dissolution of your government right from under your fat, retarded feet.  But what about those Doritos commercials, huh!? Funny stuff!  Funny stuff.  My apologies to John Prine.