Political Fatigue
Maybe you get up every morning, like I do, dreading the latest tweets, the next outrage, the newest cracks in the Constitution and you think, like I do, just 20 more months, if we can just weather a little more than a year and a half, we’ll wake up to a Return to Normalcy, we’ll have survived the madness, we’ll take back our lives. But then you pick up a paper, like I did today, and read that Billy Graham’s braindead kid thinks Trump deserves two more years, ‘reparations’, he calls them, for the injustice of having Mueller investigate his contacts with the Russians and now that Barr has declared complete exoneration for any possible obstruction of justice, well, time to toss out the Constitution and give our Leader a few bonus years.
You can’t make this shit up, you really can’t. When Pelosi raised the possibility of Trump declaring the 2020 elections bogus and refusing to leave office, she was echoing the President’s own attorney, Michael Cohen, who suggested just such a scenario. What you are learning, each and every pre-caffeinated dawn, is that everything is possible, no matter how twisted, no matter how illegal, no matter how improbable. There’s no use trying,” [Alice] said: “one can’t believe impossible things.” “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”
Alice is getting plenty of practice these days. More than six some days. Ten thousand lies since Trump took office, about ten a day, a remarkable record. And now we just take it for granted. ‘Ignorance is strength,’ Orwell said in 1984. Now we got a strong man in the White House. ‘Freedom is slavery. War is Peace.’ The news is fake. Up is down. The sky is falling.
Me and my friends are sick of it. We’re fatigued by the slow rolling tidal wave of idiocy, corruption, lawlessness, mendacity and ignorance. The GOP, watching their party taken over by thugs and crooks, has decided to go along in order to survive. Survive as what? Toadies to a mad king? My friends used to believe a price would be paid for such cowardice, but we don’t anymore. We just hope and pray we can survive til the next election. We hope the madness will end then. “But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked. “Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” Most mornings, that seems to be true. But then, what is true anymore….?
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Tags: Political Fentanyl, Trump's Rope-A-Dope Strategy