Categories
2020 Election

END, END

So much for that post-election bliss, eh?

In the month since Donald Trump became a one-term president, the bastard has riled up his far-too-gone fascist supporters into believing this election, like everything else Trump has ever disliked, is a hoax. That no, 81 million Americans did NOT vote for Joe Biden but instead voted FOR the single-worst, most disastrous human being to ever stain the Oval Office.

His cretins of legal teams, led by the Crypt Keeper if he had spent 9,000 years smoking every form of meth in the known universe, continue filing diarrhetic streams of shit passing as “lawsuits” in every state where Trump lost by hilariously clear margins, even managing to expand Joe Biden’s victory in Wisconsin.

It would be more amusing if 75 million fucking zombies didn’t actually think it were true.

The bastard has raised $200 million worth thanks to his self-pitying pissing and moaning campaign emails he’s barraged his marks and lemmings who are currently gathering around the Kool-Aid tank ready to ascend to the promised land cult since November 7th.

He’s gone into overdrive with his psychotic tweets, sharing every conspiracy theory he can dredge up no matter how insane, how improbable, or how utterly batshit.

This lunacy prevented the Biden transition team from accessing funding to begin the process of, you know, forming our new administration until an unbelievably fragile and stupid Trump installation in the GSA (an agency nobody outside of D.C. knew existed a month ago) had to be bullied into doing her goddamn job.

Meanwhile, the troglodytes continue lying. They’ve targeted everyone: calling for the execution of the now-former head of the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency Chris Krebs. They’ve harrassed Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, his hilariously inept boss Brian Kemp, his deputy, and a random IT contractor, leading one of Georgia’s election officials to lambast the Trumplican Party for its intolerable behavior.

The Chaos somehow keeps getting worse by the day. The difference now is that there is an end date. Too bad that in between now and January 20th, we have a special election to decide control of the Senate and in turn whether a modicum of change will come to us in the middle of this cocksucking pandemic, and oh, right, THAT.

The pandemic.

The thing that started in March.

The one where 260,000+ and counting Americans continue dying.

That little thing.

Fuck, this year needs to end yesterday.

Categories
Blogs

Is There Anybody Out There?

Remember outside?

Hey.

Are you alive out there?

No, really, did you make it? Are you on the other side or are you still on this plain of existence?

Am I alive?

I don’t really know.

Does simmering hatred-fueled rage over current affairs conjoined with the lack of professional sports count as “living”?

I guess in the biological sense, I’m alive. Breathing. Creating living cells and discarding dead ones.

My mitochondria should be all good.

Who the fuck knows, honestly?

Working from home differs greatly from being around your coworkers every day, seeing their faces, pining lustfully after the ones you think are cute, would make fun sleepover buddies…

Fuck, that was gross. Sorry. It’s this quarantine. Porn is basically an every-other-week ritual at this point.

In fact, so many people on Twitter have broadcast their thirst through their biggest platforms. Look no further than self-styled flower child/advanced being Caroline Calloway. Who? Exactly.

Don’t get me wrong, Calloway makes for fun following on social media. But like every other “star” that superficially invented their fame out of thin air using Instagram, Twitter, Vine (R.I.P.) or YouTube, she peskily, if not chaotically, commands your attention – you MUST know who she is.

That’s one lesson I’ve re-learned during this pandemic.

People don’t seem to give a shit about substance as long as you’re engaging The Consumer. It’s the inane drivel marketing aficionados and P.R. jagoffs blithely blurt out like second nature, easier than breathing, more effortless than sleeping. It’s corporate doublespeak elucidating how the world really works to Future Big Deals, be they influencer or necromancer, politician or celebrity (sometimes both), saint or Satan.

Why else does the world’s saddest self-pity tour continue pile driving our zombified corpse of a nation into our latest death spiral? Americans bore easier than any other industrial nation. Years of malnutrition, underpayment, under education, and celebrification metastasized into the living breathing cancer of Trumpism.

This new Astro-Turf Populism with heavy shades of Fascism infiltrated the U.S. through bullshit Fox “News” attack ads—I mean news reports, conservative-talk noise pollution, and of course Citizens United rendering political finance laws into mere words on a yellowed scrap of parchment.

The incessant word games playing out on network news and media outlets ad nauseum asking us whether a serial liar indeed did lie today distract us from actual issues. All of the environmental regulatory rollbacks undoing decades of the E.P.A.’s work. The Justice Department quietly seizing the power to determine whether naturalized immigrants, a.k.a. citizens, are actually citizens. Meaningful, consequential, society-altering decisions impacting each and every one of us right this minute.

So, I ask you once again, are you alive?

Is anybody truly out there?

I’m sending out an S.O.S.

Categories
Blogs Politics The Game of Life

Talk Is Cheap

A mass grave for unclaimed victims of COVID-19 on Hart Island in the Bronx. (AP Photo/John Minchillo)

It’s happening again. Have you noticed? It’s the same as always, rote for all disasters of the last 20-25 years. Ordinary people being lauded for their courage and strength, their grace under fire, their cool-headedness, bravery, and grit.

The Heroes.

When a beautiful Tuesday morning in September turned into the single-worst act of brutality in American history, news anchors and politicians alike glorified the brave men and women who answered the call in New York and DC that day. Always, without fail, President Bush praised the first responders of 9/11 like mythic gods, patron saints of the dedicated worker, willing to put their lives on the line to ensure the safety of our great nation, amongst other flowery designations to comfort the masses.

For all the praise they were given, these first responders spent the following years dying of terrifying cancers with next to no assistance from the same government officials who shamelessly rode the memories of their deaths to re-election. The Heroes were great as political props, just not priority enough to cover their chemo, bills, and funerals.

The victims on the planes received the same lionization. Heroes, all of them, simply because terrorists hijacked their flights and plowed them into three buildings. The deification of these ordinary travelers only grew as time moved forward to the point where now one is simply un-American if they dare mention 9/11 without first mentioning those brave Heroes or their families.

For the past three weeks, we’ve heard pundits, celebrities, experts, senators, house reps, the President praise the doctors and nurses on the front lines, highlighting their heroism with vaunted vigor and wonder.

Included on this list of titans are the “essential workers” – grocery store clerks, garbage collectors, postal workers, restaurant staff, the WWE, Florida lifeguards, moronic protestors fighting for the right to die of COVID-19

OK, not so much the latter group but if you’re paying attention, you understand the ongoing theme.

It’s all words and no action.

In Canada, people out of work receive $2,000 a month from the government. In the United Kingdom, employers are providing 80% of furloughed workers’ salaries.

Here, we’re waiting for the dipshit in charge to sign his fucking name on the memo lines of our one-time $1,200 “stimulus” checks. While Canadians and Britons have state-covered health insurance and some sort of access to testing, we’re routinely lied to by our governors, various Trump apologists, and the asshole himself that the worst is behind us and we’re near ready to re-open the country.

Of course, this is because talk is cheap. One can say whatever they please without need to bend over and lift up the downtrodden from their knees.

Give the Democrats some credit. At least they fought the jackals in the Senate over guarantees that Americans would at least get their pittance checks while also preventing the Banana Republicans from throwing money into the bank accounts of Fortune 500 firms without congressional oversight. Ultimately, this fight was for naught since Trump fired the person put in charge to oversee said congressional oversight mechanism, but then again would you expect anything less from Moscow Mitch and his gaggle of merry con-men?

My mother works at an organic grocery store. She’s due back in about a week where she will face the general public in a state where there are more unemployment claims than anywhere else in the country. People like my mother will put themselves before single parents devoid of any other choices but to drag around their petri-dish toddlers with them while scoping the aisles for colloidal silver and vitamin C. Thankfully, the store gives each employee masks and gloves for protection. But they won’t give them hazard pay or a raise, nor will they limit the number of shoppers allowed within the store. Combine these listless precautions with the utter stupidity of Americans blocking hospital entrances to protest safety measures enacted by their respective governors, and you see the cracks within the system exposed.

In a land where we pay more money for health insurance than any other nation by an astronomical margin, businesses refuse to bump up salaries for the people keeping their lights on, forcing their underlings to risk life and limb for the benefit of the economy. Never mind that economies don’t function when consumers are sick or dead, it’s crucial – nay, chief to saving us and our way of life. Send the cannon fodder to the front of the regiment as a mighty shield against the destruction of capitalism.

In a perfect world, we’d be more concerned about the wellbeing of our families and neighbors. We’d cast aside our smocks, lay down our tools, remove our hands from keyboards, keep ourselves in isolation until such point that the experts agree life can resume as before.

Instead, we the people are asked by the wealthy few who live not in fear of missing meals or mortgage payments to work without guaranteed sick leave, medical coverage, wage hikes, or rent freezes.

After all, a working-class Hero is something to be – in name only, but not in treatment. Hell, if you’re lucky, they’ll thank you for the sacrifice you’ll make.

Immortality awaits, future brave souls of yesteryear.

Categories
2020 Election Politics

Help Wanted: Nation Seeking Real President

This is embarrassing. We had more than 100 years to prepare for another situation like the one we’re mired in at the moment. Neck-deep in contagion and paranoia, Americans are showing the rest of the world just how entitled the shittiest of our population truly are. Stabbings over water. Brawls over toilet paper. Shortages of food and medicine. A non-existent government “stimulus” not for the general public but for the wealthiest corporations in the world, and the agreement of sending a one-time pittance to the rest of the nation while senators profit off of our misery.

One week into this self-isolation, it’s no wonder that we’ve seen no real strides towards lessening the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic. While angry Twitter eggs rage at Chuck Schumer for wanting to give the country more than the most stripped-down version of UBI, the “president” continues to call COVID-19 the Chinese Virus. As of today, Italy surpassed China’s death toll, making this disease eligible to earn a similarly simplistic and moronic moniker of Tuscan Virus. Notice that the World Health Organization, the international body keeping the rest of the world from cratering within itself, refuses to use such a dumbass classification. Not because they are in fear of the mythical PC Police Trump and his acolytes incessantly disparage, but because they’d rather people not attack innocent Chinese folks just as fearful of contracting the virus as the rest of the planet:

“’[…] It’s really important we be careful in the language we use lest it lead to the profiling of individuals associated with the virus,’ Dr. Mike Ryan, the executive director of WHO’s emergencies program, said at a news conference Wednesday when asked about Trump’s comments inciting violence against Asians.”

On-brand as ever, the Sentient Skin Tag is going out of his way to continue his erroneous assault on the notion of a virus’ self-agency, and has now dialed up his unoriginal lügenpresse routine to 11 with the help of some friends. The banana-republic-tyrant cosplayer continued his nauseating display of venomous self-pitying bitching for the cameras just ten days after resorting to his most consistent routine of his presidency, prompting the creepy indoctrinated adulation of his cult and swift acerbic ridicule by his critics like clockwork.

This is the new leadership we’ve polluted our government with. It’s telling when professional sports leagues demonstrate stronger leadership reacting to worldwide pandemics threatening countless millions than whole governments. The entire world is losing its collective mind, and the world’s self-anointed steadying presence is batshit up a creek without a real president.

As we hunker down for the long and terrifying road ahead, the only certainty is that nothing is certain.

We’re on our own.

Categories
2020 Election Politics Sports

Buckle Up, Kids

Yo, this might not be the smartest or most profound observation at the moment, but shit be fucked.

Like, SUPER fucked.

Never in my life have I seen such a moment in history where the entire world seemingly shuts down. The closest thing I can equate this to is the immediate hours and days following 9/11. Growing up in a country where planes flew overhead every day, it took some getting used to silent skies.

It was brief, but it was unforgettable. The world hadn’t existed without commercial planes flying overhead since early in the 1920s, maybe the ‘30s. It was like living in a different time.

Like when deadly diseases ravaged weakened populations across the globe following humanity’s (first) nadir.

1918 – not just the last time the Red Sox won a World Series for 86 years, but more importantly, the last time the world faced such a contagious and deadly virus. The Spanish Flu nearly killed all who were fortunate enough to survive the Great War, eradicating even more generations out of existence.

Thankfully, dumbass world leaders notwithstanding, COVID-19 appears to be less deadly.

For now.

If we’re lucky (and let’s face it as a country we’re comparatively quite lucky), the virus runs its course and goes away in about a month. Of course, because the world’s most unqualified toxic gastropod with an anus for a mouth obliterated our country’s dedicated portion of infrastructure built specifically to combat a deadly viral outbreak, we’ll experience exactly what China and Italy are going/previously gone through. I’m praying that we don’t get a nationwide quarantine, but I’m not too optimistic.

The strange thing is knowing that we won’t have our usual entertainment to distract us. Movie premieres are being delayed across the world. Festivals, conferences, and concerts are getting bagged left and right.

Sports are effectively done across all walks of the sporting world. March Madness has officially become #MarchSadness. And without such daily respites from the cesspit that is the 2020 Election, we’re gonna be stewing in our own misery it seems. Well, maybe you won’t be. Lord knows I have been for weeks now.

I never thought I’d see the day where I wanted absolutely NOTHING to happen, just nothing whatsoever. Good, bad, cataclysmic, anything. Just one fucking iota of a break from the constant push and pull of calamity waiting to murder the Christ out of the world.

Anybody got any good shows to binge for an apocalyptic viral plague?

I’m all ears.

Categories
2020 Election Politics

Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s Time to Unite

“We at war.

We at war with terrorism.

Racism.

But most of all,

we at war with ourselves.”

When Kanye West first recorded these words in 2004, America had only recently begun its descendance into the costly quagmire that is the War On Terror. President George W. Bush declared war on Al-Qaeda and Saddam Hussein, the Iraqi dictator keeping his country in organized terror and fear for decades. In a matter of days, Saddam’s capital fell, he fled, hid for nearly a year before being captured, tried, convicted, and executed in 2006. Few people knew what kind of hell our country was about to dive headfirst into.

One of those few is currently running for president.

The other, one of many then-Senators whom voted to begin the long, spiraling, calamitous affair that Donald Trump vowed to end before his consequent inauguration, many, many, many lies concerning everything from national security to personal infidelities, calling off talks with the Taliban, reigniting talks with the Taliban, signing a treaty with the Taliban to end the Afghan War, and subsequently breaking that treaty with the Taliban before the ink could dry.

Countless men, women, and children have died as a result of our actions in the Middle East. Iraqis, Afghanis, Kurds, Lebanese, Jordanians, Egyptians, Libyans, Israelis, Palestinians.

In Iraq, Afghanistan, Yemen and Syria alone, 7,000 American military servicemen and women have died since 2001. This does not include the number of military personnel who died due to mental and physical wounds suffered over that same period.

Most importantly, these wars and the subsequent tax cuts enacted by the Bush administration plunged the economy into oblivion, forcing corporate bailouts, shuttering countless factory and manufacturing jobs across the country, leaving people like my parents in soul-crushing debt, poverty, or worse. These conflicts destroyed numerous lives, and brought nothing but suffering to the world.

And right now, we stand at the cliff edge of yet another self-destructive force: a fractured opposition to easily the worst man ever to hold the title President of the United States of America.

If you’ve read this site before, I apologize. This is meant to include some talk of sports, not merely my personal dismay at the state of our nation. But now that the Orange Führer has decided to prevent states from conducting coronavirus testing, I once more must implore you the reader to heed my words. Listen carefully to my begging now and hear my pleas later:

Vote for the Democrat in November.

No, really. Just fucking do it.

It really is that simple.

As a matter of principle, I dislike former Vice President Joseph R. Biden Jr. His at-best dubious past of propping up his standing within the civil rights movement, passage of discriminatory bills and policies that hurt minority communities over decades, and his notoriously-botched chairmanship of Anita Hill’s 1991 testimony to the Senate Judiciary Committee regarding Clarence Thomas’s alleged sexual harassment, a stark moment of patronizing misogyny in American history, make it clear that the Joe Biden of yesteryear is a man I would never willingly give my vote under any circumstance.

But right now, if he truly becomes the Democratic nominee for the general election, I will vote for him with a smile on my face and an overwhelming sense of terror, praying the rest of my countrymen ignore his nonsense ramblings and his naïve confidence that Trump’s departure will bring us back the country we love in blithe ignorance of reality.

It’s not a question of him being the man with the best policies, oh no. In my opinion, Elizabeth Warren still holds that title. Sadly, her candidacy is proof that no matter how competent a woman may be, she will always take backseat to ineffective famous white men thanks to their G-d-given birthright of having penises and not vaginas.

But don’t be fooled. I’m under no illusion of the choices I face.

Bernie Sanders, the democratic socialist demonized by Democratic leadership, establishment, strategists, pundits as well as his rivals on the campaign trail, represents in my mind the best remaining policy choice. On a more personal note, he will be the only Jewish candidate for president I’ll have a chance to vote for in my lifetime. I’m that confident that this opportunity will not come again, especially if the fascist running us into the proverbial brick wall wins re-election.

But I cannot, will not resign myself to such predetermination. It’s the reason I’m hunched over my laptop battering my keyboard, hammering this rant out at 2am on a Sunday night.

I refuse to sit idly while the maniacal lunatics set fire to the mattresses within the asylum. I won’t walk away from the polls if the man I don’t want to be the nominee becomes the name on the ballot next to Trump’s. I will not cut off my nose to spite my face like some Twitter trolls threateningly intimate to former Warren supporters and other “fake progressives”, demanding her public allegiance to the man who told her she couldn’t be president.

Scouring the web for news about the election, I ran across a reminder of the pedestal I inherited at the dawn of my life. I had to be Dear White People-ed back into reality with some sober, insightful analysis of the race:

“I know you take your vote for granted because it came included in the birthright package while ours was earned by the blood, sweat and slit throats of our ancestors. Disappointment is a bitter pill to swallow when you’re accustomed to having your larynx coated with privilege and the perspiration from black people’s labor. But we were not put on this earth to clean up the mess that you created. Our purpose is not to jumpstart another round of economic justice for white people that will undoubtedly leave black people behind.”

As pointed out by smarter and better writers around our marketplace of ideas, Bernie’s lack of support from key voting blocs are a self-fulfilling prophecy. If voters simply don’t want him now in the Democratic Primary, will they really want him when the votes actually count?

Yes, primary voting IS IMPORTANT, else why even have the primary to begin with? And true, the race is far from over. But when you consider that the general consensus from those in the know predict a brokered Democratic National Convention, the thought of hashing out the two old men’s qualifications through purity testing and electability scaremongering seems trite and counterproductive.

We, the liberals, moderates, centrists, pragmatists, idealists, realists, leftists, cultists, what have you, of this country want Donald Trump gone.

His inhumane treatment of asylum-seekers, people of color, women, LGBTQ+, members of all marginalized communities, or anyone who dare disagrees with the very stable genius reeks of America’s darkest moments if not outright eclipsing them to levels once thought impossible, improbable to ever happen outside of classic dystopian narratives.

Alas, Big Brother menacingly watches his Twitter feed and Fox News, waiting to vomit out more lies to instill confusion and spread disinformation in the hopes we will all be too dazed to keep our focus on his demise – the one, true, paramount prize.

Folks, it’s now or never. Liberals must cease with the never-ending one-upmanship for the benefit of their ratios and followers. We must remember that it’s this very instant, this fight of our lives, that matters.

The Devil continues to try breaking us down but we must not relent. We cannot fight each other once the convention arrives. We cannot break, we cannot hide, we cannot splinter.

Even if he isn’t your candidate, he’s your last shot at ending the nightmare that we’ve been living since January 20th, 2017.

In the end, that’s the point.

It’s either Biden, Bernie, or bust.

Moderates, liberals, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. Hear my cry before we perish in the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

Join, or die.

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