The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

There’s a lot of chatter lately about removing the Mad King from office. Insanity, they say, is grounds for dismissal. The Democrats mostly want the Presidency restored to its former glory, made great again, the Republicans are afraid the Trumpster’s constituency will come after them with pitchforks and Confederate flags. I hate to admit it, but the GOP have a well-grounded fear of reprisal. We all should.

Half this Land of the Free Home of the Brave voted for this guy, not because they didn’t understand the crudity of the real estate developer, not because they thought he would be high minded, not because they couldn’t see he was a pussy grabbing dog whistler. He told you so himself. He went before the Christian Right and professed his sins, not confessed them. They went right ahead and voted for the sinner. Anyone who thought he would change his ways once he was elected probably had bought a bridge from him in New Jersey. The rest of us knew what we were getting.

So now we got what we were getting. Hell no, I don’t like it. Hell yes, I’d like to jerk the jerk right out of the White House, haul him up on any and all charges Mueller can make stick and hope Mike Pence doesn’t offer clemency under the bogus defense that it would irrevocably cripple the nation. Mike Pence doesn’t give a fig in Hades about what would hurt the nation. He’s a lap dog with ambitions to be the lap. Personally, I’ll take the Mad King.

But here’s the deal, artless or no: the citizens of this experimental democracy voted in a vicious little nutcase. They listen to hot talk radio and read faux news that says the real news is phony. They believe what they want to believe and how do you convince them otherwise? It isn’t quite the definition of crazy, but it’s close enough for me. We elected the Man of Our Times. Crass, sexist, narcissistic, oh cripes, why list them again, the huckster is known to all of us. He’s the sinister little voice in the back of our heads that whispers go ahead, do what you want, anything goes, there’s no punishment, just reward. Lash out, you’ll feel better. Knock the old lady to the sidewalk, she’s been asking for it. Never ever pull your punches, that’s for losers. It’s dog eat dog, baby, and you better sharpen the canines.

The 25th Amendment as a remedy for this? C’mon, you’ll need an amendment to stop the ignorant from voting. Welcome to democracy circa 2017. Welcome to the New America. You huddled masses, if you’re tired or poor, it’s your own fault, go home or shut up.

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