The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

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Ever since I got my 2nd Covid shot I seem to have an urge to buy Microsoft stocks. And I don’t usually buy any stocks so this is unsettling. And that purchase of Cortana I made? I don’t even know what Cortana is. Worse yet, I show a receipt for a Microsoft Surface Laptop 3 that I have no recollection of buying. What this can mean is anybody’s guess. On the up side, however, I seem to know, without really trying, most of my friends’ whereabouts at any given time day or night. The ones who haven’t had their inoculations yet don’t show up on my internal GPS, which makes me really suspicious.

In fact suspicion seems to be my main emotion now. I used to trust in my own instincts, trusted facts, trusted my government, trusted the Lord, trusted the warranty on my truck, trusted the advertisers on TV who told me late at night I could get two of the same item if I only paid shipping and handling. Now I wonder how much is that shipping and handling, maybe three times what the item I’m getting two of costs. And those drug ads during the evening news? I wonder now if they really cure what ails me or if all those side effects that take half the commercial to list are going to require additional pharmaceutical purchases, probably manufactured by the same company the way Purdue Pharma is going to make an antidote for oxycontin. The truth is, I don’t trust my advertisers any longer and if I can’t trust American business, who do I turn to, the Chinese? Geez, didn’t they infect us with Chinavirus?

I wake up now worrying about those poor kids in the pizza parlor basement being abused by Democratic cannibals. Yesterday I was afraid to go near the windows where lasers from outer space could place me in their gunsights, incinerating me and my banjo in a nano-second. Today I heard another mass murder was staged to make it look like violence was rampant in my country. A few days ago Asian American women pretended to be killed by another phony psychopath. It never seems to stop. When I go to the grocery store I can’t help wondering who are human and who are Lizard People. My god, maybe, just maybe, they’re ALL Lizard People. With guns!!!

What I’m wondering now is if that Covid vaccine is making me a Lizard Boy. I’m afraid to look in the mirror to check if my tongue is forked, my skin is scaly, my eyes have vertical slits. Something strange is happening, I know that much. For awhile I thought Trump would fix this, save the country, make it great again … now it looks like he wasn’t the savior after all. Now that I’ve joined Qanon, I’m already thinking of quitting but I hate to turn tail and run. Although … I do seem to be growing a tail.

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Here’s a fun statistic you might like to share on your twitter account, Facebook page or just save for around the Thanksgiving dinner table with the family. Over half of Trump supporters believe the Qanon claim that the Democrats are running a pedophilia ring. You read every day where some pervert is arrested and his computer confiscated when it’s discovered he’s downloading child porn. What you didn’t know is that kiddie porn probably came from the Democratic Party, videos no doubt made with all the children they’ve kidnapped and locked into pizza parlor basements around the country. Insidious? Holy Uncle Joe, Batman, I’ll say insidious.!! And you were worried about the Biden Mafioso Crime Family….

Mr. T himself says he knows nothing, NOTHING, about Qanon, nothing, NOTHING, about pedophile rings run by Sleepy Joe. Sure, he retweets this stuff but only for amusement of the masses, they can decide on their veracity themselves. The fact that it comes directly from the President of the United States surely wouldn’t influence their ability to differentiate fact from insane fantasy. Not one little bit.

This is what 4 years of an emperor with no clothes can bring, an electorate spoonfed bullshit that thinks the Democratic Party can get away with corralling kids and forcing them to do god only knows what unthinkable acts. Welcome to Trump’s America. A dark hole of a place where perversion lurks behind every schoolyard and nursery. A place where a cabal of political operatives steal the nation’s children and enslave them for their evil purposes. A milk industry that hides the missing children from the public, no doubt co-criminals with the Democrats. This is what America has become.

Course, to be fair, we might ask the question why, if Trump and his followers know about this, why on earth do they allow it to go on?? Where is that evil fighter Bill Barr when we really need him? Where are the Republican Senators who allow this to continue unabated in their own states? Where are the people of Good?

I don’t know the answer to any of this. I surely do not. But I know this: I’m really glad I’m not a kid.

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Three weeks to go, Lord, three long weeks until the incessant ads stop, the mudslinging ends, the election signs come down and we all resume our regular broadcasting. With any luck we’ll put the Trump Show into reruns and wait for the Fox News winter line-up featuring the evening variety program Dancing with Donald. Whatever the outcome of this interminable election, the man won’t be going away, not for a long long time. He’s basically a herpes virus, lurking in your spinal column, just waiting for the right opportunity. Cue the music: ‘you’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you.’ Actually, the song IS about him.

Me, I’m ready for a break from Mr. T. Four years has worn me down. If Covid takes away taste and smell, Mighty Mouth has destroyed my sense of humor. My funny bone has atrophied and I may have forgotten how to laugh, permanently if this guy gets another term of office. In the middle of a pandemic, with protests going on for months and riots breaking out continually, with kids locked up at home with parents who can’t afford child care, with the economy in smoking ruins for the poor, maybe it’s time for someone who wants to unite the country in common cause, not poke a stick in half the nation’s eyes. A little optimism instead of incessant pessimism might be a welcome relief. I know I’m sick and tired of the constant vitriol, the finger pointing, the shaming and the blaming. How about a plan of action? How about tackling some problems? How about helping those who need help? How about confronting this Covid outbreak with something more substantial than rah rah, hurray for me, what a job I’ve done, look at how I saved probably 2 million lives? Send this Cat 5 hurricane back to Mar a Lago where they know how to handle disasters. Board up, hunker down and hope the damage is manageable when the storm subsides. Then go to work rebuilding what was torn down.

Maybe you watched the ‘town meeting’ last week, the one he arranged with NBC after refusing to debate Biden virtually after he’d contracted Covid. If so, you got the full monty, the angry guy, the leader who retweets conspiracies theories and then denies knowing anything about them, just sending them out to his twitter followers and they can decide for themselves. The moderator said, c’mon, Mr. T, you’re the President, not somebody’s crazy uncle. How wrong she was. He’s everyone’s crazy uncle.

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I’m looking out my front window this morning and all I can see is this yellowish haze that is half smoke and half fog and about a third the ground-hugging swamp gas from rumors generated by viral internet addicts. Swirling in this soup of toxic crap is the latest scare: Antifa is starting these fires that are burning up millions of acres in the West. That’s right, urban anarchists are running amok in the grasslands and forests just over the mountains. Evidently, they’re tired of firebombing police stations and tossing Molotov cocktails in unlocked police cars.

I guess it’s time to take the fight to the ranchers and the farmers and the loggers on their own turf, torch their homelands and suffocate the rest of us. You bet. No doubt they had a meeting in their secret hidey-hole in Portland, then fanned out to put a match to the forests of Utah, Colorado, Washington, Oregon, Arizona and California, exactly what you’d expect Antifa to do, right? Right? Go out where nobody lives and burn their cropland. Good thinking, right? Right?

This is what we have now instead of real news. We have idiotic conspiracy theories that offer no proof and certainly no intelligence. I figure the whackjobs who resend these messages from the Russian GRU Fancy Bear military counterintelligence units have no clue that they’re helping the commies sow doubt in our country with their brainless propaganda. The Russians figured us out, apparently. We’re clueless sheep so bored with our lives we have nothing better to do than surf the Net for National Enquirer quality stories that satisfy our pent-up anger and resentment toward … toward … well, most everything.

We’ve lost all perspective. We don’t know our anatomical parts from a hole in the ground. We actually believe there’s a cabal of pederast perverts who kidnap our kids, hide them in a bunker beneath a D.C. pizza joint that doesn’t even have a basement much less a torture chamber, then … my god in heaven! say it isn’t true!! … they eat the kids.

Now, you might ask yourself, if this were true wouldn’t we see milk cartons with a dozen photos of missing children every time we ate our cereal? But no, we don’t ask ourselves. We accept this sick pablum and better yet, we retweet, we forward the email, then we go back for more. Mother of God, what kind of idiots have we spawned out there in La La Land??? Maybe, just maybe, Antifa has the right idea. Burn the damn place down and let’s start over.

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Suppose you woke up one fine morning and discovered the place where you live was actually an insane asylum. You could tell yourself all these fellow inmates were the crazy ones, all those nutjobs raving half the night, even the caretakers with their whacky conspiracy theories, they were the mental defectives, they were the stark raving mad. Not you. No, not you.

The world is a slippery place, a quicksilver concept of shifting realities, one day this the next day that. Some of us put our faith in religion, some in science, some just go with some kind of viral flow that seeps across the internet like a brain eating plague. People believe what they want to believe these days. Virtual reality is perfect for the folks who feel beleaguered by the old reality. Dreary jobs, dead end careers, bad marriages, deferred dreams, kids who didn’t turn out well, who knows? The world wasn’t what they’d hoped for, wasn’t what their leaders told them it would be, wasn’t fun, wasn’t easy, wasn’t much of anything the ads promised. All lies, all broken promises, all just bullshit.

The government, the corporations, the politicians, even the movie actors, phony phony phony. Who ya gonna call? Who ya gonna trust? Who ya gonna believe anymore? Somebody’s to blame, right? Somebody must be winning while you’re losing, right? Somebody’s got the power, the money, the secrets. The game is rigged, you know that at least. Maybe the Masons, maybe those Rosicrucions, maybe the Jews, maybe Hollywood, maybe the welfare queens, maybe the immigrants, maybe the Democrats, maybe the high tech CEO’s, maybe, just maybe, all of them. There’s a conspiracy going on. To keep you down, to keep you pacified, to keep you from finding out what is really what. Q knows. Q anon has the news. The President, that king of conspiracy theorists, tells you they’re good Americans. But he doesn’t, wink wink, nod nod, know very much about them.

Suppose one fine morning you wake up and discover the insane have taken over the asylum. Find out YOU were the enemy. And all along you thought you were the sane one. Maybe, you think, there actually was a conspiracy. The loonies were planning how to do this all along. One state senator at a time. One Representative. A Governor here, a Supreme Court judge there. The President himself. One fine morning you wake up and everything has changed. Everything. And you might find yourself asking who really is the insane one.

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