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The Final Trumpdown

By January 19, 20214 Comments

This week: Profiles in ignorance: Trump supporter edition; Who’s more responsible – the lemmings or the lemming master?; “Rudy The Gross” cements his place in the most awful section of the history books; And my humble suggestion for Joe Biden’s first act as president.
Dig it… 

This week: Profiles in ignorance: Trump supporter edition; Who’s more responsible – the lemmings or the lemming master?; “Rudy The Gross” cements his place in the most awful section of the history books; And my humble suggestion for Joe Biden’s first act as president.


Let me begin with a shout out to all the writers and producers at every late night comedy show currently saddled with the unenviable task of spending nearly every day slogging through the perpetual shitpile of human ghastliness that is Donald Trump and his nauseating paladins. The last couple of weeks in particular have been nearly impossible to fathom let alone whittle down to several specific political and social horror stories from which to mine whatever passes for humor in these final, madcap days of this SADministration©.  I mean, how many jokes can you make about a guy who encourages delusional featherheads to literally attempt a forceful overthrow of the United States government? My personal best in seven, but those results vary significantly!! Does it help a little to be able to target a failed actor who paints his face, carries a flag on a spear, claims to be a “QAnon Shaman“, whatever the fuck that is, and whose mother insists he be fed organic food while in prison on multiple charges including civil disorder?
Yes it does.
For instance, what’s more organic than having live larvae in your morning mush? Because that’s pretty much all they serve where you’re headed. So eat up, Shaman-guy who believes that Satan-worshipping cannibalistic pedophiles are running a global child sex-trafficking ring out of a pizza parlor. But put a shirt on first, for cryin’ out loud.

No shirt, no sense, no representation.

This dung-brained whack-a-mole and every single other person who even approached the Capitol building let alone entered it on January 6th, let alone entered it calling for the admittedly barley unjustified lynching of Vice President Mike Pence, is like a door laying on the ground: unhinged and useless.

But these people seem to somehow genuinely believe that all of their clearly violent and obviously unlawful actions were justified because, like one wing nut screamed at Capitol Police that day, “We were invited by the President of the United States!”
And they were!
I mean, he didn’t send out the kind of animated-balloon-spewing E-vite his followers are used to getting for their Klan meetings, but he did close his speech that day by saying,

“We’re going to the Capitol… So let’s walk down Pennsylvania Avenue.”

Of course, the president himself didn’t actually walk to the Capitol with his apoplectic supporters – rumor is his bone spurs were acting up – but chances are pretty good he didn’t think they were going there for a cook out.

Another stand-out dimwit from the riot was Texas real estate agent Jenna Ryan, who is now facing criminal prosecution for her involvement even though she’s pretty sure she didn’t do anything wrong. The Texas Dumbstar even spoke on video about her complete lack of guilt or shame.

“I wasn’t trying to do anything violent, and I didn’t realize that there was actually violence.”

Probably because she didn’t turn around after she asked a friend to take this picture of her that day.

Hi. I’m a dimwit and I want to be your realtor.

She even posted that pic on her twitter account, which I assume is @RagingImbecile, including a clever caption she wrote in what I suppose was a failed attempt to forecast her non-violent innocence…

Maybe she’ll learn how to spell in prison.
In an apparent effort to provide authorities with even further proof of her direct involvement and indefensible guilt, Ryan also videotaped herself standing in the middle of the rabid, chanting crowd screaming into her selfie-held iPhone 6, quote…

“I am not messing around. When I come to sell your house, this is what I’ll do.”

You mean you’ll bring a violent crowd of moronic yahoos to trash the place? Is there maybe another agent in your office that I could talk to?
It’s like Bizzaro-HGTV.
“Gut the place!”
“So we can remodel it?”
“No! I’m Jenna, dammit! This is what I do!”

But Real Estate Karen still hasn’t learned her lesson, and, in fact, is now claiming the president-for-one-last-horrible-day should grant her a pardon, just like our founding fathers would never have wanted it.
And Trump might just do it. He’s that purposefully irritating.
But, oh, what I wouldn’t give to see her try this with the previous guy.

And this, to me, is one of the more disturbing wounds that was opened two weeks ago in DC: not just that these people would do what they did, but that they could be so impetuously certain that they have every right to do it and are somehow above any consequences including having to eat prison food in fucking prison.

Of course, a big part of the immeasurably unwarranted overconfidence shared by Trump and Co. comes from their ignorantly determined focus on one particular line from his speech that day.

“I know that everyone here will soon be marching over to the Capitol building to peacefully and patriotically make your voices heard.”

“Peacefully and patriotically”!
See?! Donald Trump is a peaceful patriot who would never incite a mob. Just ask the mob he spent the last four years inciting. They’ll tell you. He’s way too busy grabbing pussy, cheating at golf, and having his hand slapped away by his extremely-soon-to-be ex-wife who, herself, is extremely busy conveniently forgetting whatever the hell it is BeBest was even supposed to mean in the first place.

Besides, why would Trump even bother inciting the mob to violence when that job had  already been very directly handled by the man who, like a frightened squid, defends himself by releasing a disorienting amount of ink.

In his own opening remarks before the riot, Trump’s personal Lap Attorney said to the crowd “Let’s have trial by combat,” which is a particularly dangerous thing to say to an already unconscionably tempestuous crowd, many of whom came to the rally actually dressed for combat.
As for how this particular guy got teamed up with a couple of homeless lumberjacks, that’s anyone’s guess.

And in the painful words of any woman being forced to recount an unfortunate sexual encounter with him, “Rudy wasn’t done.” After the usual tirade involving unproven claims of fraud and blah blah blah, America’s disgraced mayor promised the crowd he was going to “find criminality” backing up his un-back-up-able claim with a “Joe Namath before Super Bowl 3” level of boldness, exclaiming,

“I’m willing to stake my reputation on it.”

And my guess is that if there’s one thing Rudy Giuliani is 100 percent willing to lose in a bet right now, it’s his reputation.

On the polar opposite end of the sanity spectrum, we have just one more day before Joseph Robinette (still hard to get used to) Biden will be inaugurated this week becoming the 46th President of the United States of America. And I propose that the first thing he do in office is declare that the 45th president be treated like the 13th floor of a building – we all just skip it and pretend it was never there.


Ending, as usual, on a (relatively) positive note…
This week’s musical guest is Sam Cooke. In 1963, Cooke and his wife and members of his band and entourage were turned away from a white’s-only motel in Louisiana and arrested later that night for “disturbing the peace,” because, ya know… why not? Far be it from me to be able to genuinely relate to his experience, of course, but I can sure as hell feel it when I hear him sing this song which was inspired primarily by that particular event. I still don’t know if all the necessary changes are actually “gonna come,” but I know that one big and very necessary change is definitely coming on Wednesday, and I, like at least 82 million others, can… not… wait.
Happy Martin Luther Kings Jr. Day Week.
Dig it…

Peace, y’all!




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