What a long strange trip it's been.
Today, we are stuck with a soggy, foggy, blubbering, fat-fuck, felon & consummate liar. He sure seems to think he is some kind of sloppy, tasteless, classless King of Stupid, and wanna-be authoritarian; a cheesy, messy, brain-addled, dementia-swimming, Dictator, and folks wonder if they will ever be able to get his sorry ass out of the White House when the time comes to move on.
Sinclair Lewis wrote a novel in 1935 called "It Can't Happen Here." This morning, it's not alarmist to declare: "It Already Happened Here!" Yes. Here & now. We are in the dystopia. We are discovering who are the folks who will stand up to be counted in opposition.
We get the new experience of living under a fascist regime. Kind of like something you'd read in a Roberto Bolano, or Gabriel García Márquez novel. Or in the history books. Does anyone read anymore? Does anyone remember history? Does anyone remember what happened in the past, or are we now all just stuck in the furious hurly-burly of the always now?
We are discovering lots of folks are just ignoring it all, or applauding, or trying their best not to see what's happening right in front of their sore eyes. Hmmm.... I am not predicting anything, but, really, reality has a way of catching up to everyone, gravity still exists, facts & truth do matter.
I think the inevitable crash, or implosion, or disintegration, or choking on a hamburger moment is coming sooner or later. I hope it's sooner. You know, my mantra: "Is he dead yet?" I think of the poet Diane Wakowski and her book of poetry: "Dancing on the Grave of a Sonofabitch." Do you know how deliriously happy so many of us will be when fat-fuck croaks?
Then what?! Not sure. I am rooting for the good guys...
