They’re going to do it, I tell you: The whole touchy-feely do-gooding ratpack of Microaggression worriers, reparations freaks, weird sexual curiosities, race hustlers, bat.-Antifa psychos, and egalitarian enstupidators of universities. They are going to elect Trump. Again.
Washington, where I shortly will be for a bit, is crazy. It has not the slightest, wan, etiolated idea of what is going on in America. The Democrats are fielding as candidates a roster of middle-school clowns and unflavored tapioca. Are they secretly in Trump’s pay? Like Clinton with her “Deplorables” suicide line?
Probably the Russians are behind it.
But…can the Dems be serious? They’ve got to be drinking the Kool-Aid. We have Kamala Harris, a colored woman who is in favor of busing. This means sending white children forty-five minutes each way to violent fifth-rate schools where they will be bullied without mercy and come away hating blacks. She thinks parents will put her racial enthusiasms over the welfare of their kids. Not gonna happen, Kamala gal.
Kamala says we need more integration. Why? What good is it? Who is going to vote for it? Do not people avoid it like hemorrhagic tuberculosis when they have a choice?
The entire screwy list of adolescent canditatorial hamsters favors reparations for, oh god, slavery. We will never hear the end of slavery. Like the liver of Prometheus, slavery is a resource never depleted.
Reparations of course means forcing whites who never owned slaves to give money to blacks who never were slaves. Granted, this will get the Democrats the votes of American Africans, which they had anyway.
I can hear it in Detroit: “Reparations? Yowee! Hoo-ah!! More free stuff!” Just like looting a Walgreen’s but you don’t have to run even a couple of blocks.
In the “debates,” these political dribs and drabs and leftovers avoided topics of importance such as the wars, the Pentagon’s maximum-flab budget, the national debt, our domestic banditry such as Black Lives Matter and Antifa, immigration, and black crime. The latter spreads like gangrene in a suppurated wound. Almost weekly we read of businesses gang-robbed by “teens,” which we all know what are.
(Meerriam-Webster–”Teen: a black between the ages of sixteen and twenty-eight caught on surveillance cameras sacking a business owned by shties.“)
Now, reparations will fly in Flint. Who can doubtit? The water is poisonous, people don’t have jobs, and now they have to pay American Africans who hate them for something Flint didn’t do to them.
Trump must be paying the Democratic lineup to do this. Nothing else can explain it.
And all of the same political retards favor open borders. This is what got Trump elected in the first place, so they are going to do it again. What could make more sense? If you pound your thumb with a hammer, and it hurts, the smart thing is to pound it again. That will make it feel better. They seem to be in a race to see who can be least electable. They all look to be winners.
Meanwhile Trump, who should be an easy target, revs up his fans with carney-barker harangues appealing to the limbic third-grader so prevalent in the psyches of the mid-country. You have to hand it to the guy: He has charisma. Make America Great Again! Never mind that he is presiding over the greatest decline America has ever seen. Build the wall! Build the wall! Yeeee-hah! This sort of thing appeals to those whose minds might be described as uncluttered and, hey, a vote is a vote.
He hasn’t built the Wall, is unlikely to, has deported almost nobody, and jobs are still leaving America. With Trump, though, it’s the giddy mood of the thing, the sense that the President is one of us, against those rich New York bastards and snotty anchorwomen who have screwed us. Which of course they have.
Curiously, the press rabble in Washington pride themselves as being on the Left. Say what? Howzat again? The Left used to be the party of the working man, the party supporting unionization, often at risk of bodily harm.They were against wars. Working men got killed in them for the benefit of the arms industry.
Today’s alleged Left is the party of white coastal upper middle classes against the working class, whom they name deplorables. The racial minorities, with whom the elites strictly avoid associating, serve as voting fodder.
Can you imagine Saul Alinsky arguing for integrated bathrooms so as to be inclusive?
So we have Biden and Bernie, intensely exciting as wallpaper paste, suited more to Madame Tussaud’s than the White House. Elizabeth Warren, who presumably will wear feathers and say woo-woo-woo and wave her DNA report saying that she is 1/1024 wild Indian. Maybe she will carry a tomahawk.
What gave us these? Saturation mutagenesis? The Russians put something in the water?
Well, there was Tulsi Gabbard, who will get my vote.(This doubtless will prove decisive.) She was the only entry in the lineup of stale-bread Democrats who mentioned the wars. She is against. Nobody else noticed the voracious Five-Sided Black Hole on the Potomac that devours the nation’s substance.
This matters, or ought to. The military boodle is the only available pile of moolah to pay for Free Stuff. Or infrastructure. Or decent medical care. But it also sustains the military, the biggest scam of corporate America. The media will have to sideline Tulsi.
Meanwhile at the top, in the Great Double-Wide on Pennsylvania Avenue, we have Trump himself, crass as a truss ad, and John Bolton, who seems to be an actual mutant. Maybe his father sat on a radium watch. Throw in Pompeo, a vicious Christian who looks like an ad for bacon fat. This is what the turnips of the Democratic freak show, each more boring than all the others combined, all rushing to out-weird the others, will give us again in 2020.
Actually, I hope Trump isn’t impeached. He may be all that stands between the Republic (I am being nostalgic) and war with Iran. The only people who want war are Bolton, the Jewish lobbies, and Israel. Everybody else wants to sell Iran stuff and buy stuff from it.
Anyway, Pence is a loon who thinks he is about to be vacuumed up by the Rapture and I guess drink beer with God. Without Trump, who may be too confused for a war, Bolton would nuke Tehran.
To date, the last chapter in this comic book has been the sad story of the British ambassador. He got caught telling his government that Trump was incompetent, flaky, unreliable, and egotistical. This of course is what all ambassadors must be telling headquarters. What do you expect them to write of a president who has invented three hitherto unknown countries–Nambia, Nepple, and Button–and tweets of the “Prince of Whales”? Tweeting is what birds do. Europe must look on with equal parts horror and amusement.
But how can he lose against such a sorry gaggle of embarrassing Democrats? They appear set to nominate some creature of the remote fringes, the political equivalent of Rupaul and then, having elected Trump again, they will wonder at length how he got elected. Only in America.