November 1, 2026: Cancelled Campaign Rallies, Raving Old Fool, Deranged and Detached

 

Disgustus has cancelled campaign rallies in Kansas and Iowa and has flown back to Mar-a-Lardo to 'mail in' his final campaign appearances vis closed cicruit or taped television. So, instead of the 'honor' of being addressed in person by a demented, raving old fool, one can attend a 'rally' in some high school auditorium where, perhaps, you will see and hear your local candidate for dog catcher, perhaps one of tRUMP's larvae and a local party official to be topped off with a 'visual' of our shitting 'president' speaking in what, for him, are cogent and complete sentences. That is, assuming his sticks to the script and isn't allowed to wander off into la-la land.

Disgustus hasn't been very successful at explaining this sudden departure from the campaign trail. Clearly, he has grown tired, indeed exhausted. He is now an octonagarian, and not in good health. He is clearly losing withever judgement he had, and that wasn't much. He never had much impulse control, but now any screen determining appropriate behavior is completely missing. His aides know this. They see it every minute of every day. And they know that the worst thing any candidate running on the ReSCUMlickan ticket is MORE TRUMP. They also know that he will shoulder his way to the front of the line at every opportunity, get in front of every camera, and that he cannot be convinced of his own liability. Hense, the remote appearances.

They also know that, as in the waning days of the '24 campaign, that he cannot fill even a small high school arena.

They also know that tRUMP seen on an endless loop telling the nation that we have arrived at a 'golden age'; that gas prices aren't as bad as under Biden; that the cost of housing and groceries, utilities and insurance are a Democratic Hoax; and that the word 'affordability' was invented by Democrats as part of a smear campaign only demonstrates how completely deranged and detached this moron is from real life in these here United States.

The answer then, is to get him off the trail, closet him at Mar-a-Lardo, and await the coming storm.

Already ReSCUMlickans are scrubbing all references to tRUMP from campaign ads, literature and websites. Already Ted Cruz and others are beginning to lay the foundations of blame for the coming electoral bloodbath. Already the party is beginning to look beyond tRUMP as his final two years, should the grim reaper fail to do his duty, look to be long on investigation and short on delivery. Disgustus, already a living corpse, will be a dead man walking.

And this will be his legacy. As his wives and Stormy Daniels will testify, tRUMP has always been long on braggadocio and bombast, but in the end whimps out. He's always left people empty handed, dissappointed and frustrated. Yea even unto Mar-a-Lardo.

Impeach. Convict. Imprison

October 31, 2026: Couch Humping Tele-tubby, John Husted's Ass, Homoerotic Fascism

 

Shady Vance, the couch-humping tele-tubby cum the president of vice in these here United States, was found on stage fielding questions from a presumably 'friendly' audience. All was going laughably well until a woman stood up and asked him about the cost of housing. Normally our idiot, one heartbeat away from the presidency, would have responded that this was caused by the 'millions' of immigrants let into the country during the four years of relief from the stench of Donald tRUMP, in which the nation momentarily regained both its integrity and sense of smell, only to lose it again. Ah, but there was altogether too much levity in the soul of our former ReSCUMlickan senator from Thiel. Vance immediately turned to the moderator and said that what people have been talking to him about was Senator John Husted's (ReSCUMlickan Ohio) ass.

John Husted's ass has become a fixation of late in ReSCUMlickan circles and on the campaign trail. It all started when our aging and demented Caesar began to repeat a story of discovering the Senator's ass while he was checking out his body, something he has increasingly revealed as the frontal lobes of his brain shrink along with his ability to control his native impulses.

The homoerotic proclivities of our Golden Swine are becoming increasingly more obvious as he rants about big strong men, Arnold Palmer's genetalia, and male beauty. We all know that he pines for any 'strong' man on the world stage, regardless of political stripe, fawning and genuflecting before any male counterpart he sees as 'masculine'. We also know that he despises women.

Lately, though, he has become much more open about it, demenia having torn the mask from the naked lust lurking beneath all that bronzer and hair spray. There was the UFC cage fight on the White House lawn ending with an assault on Michelle Obama claiming, falsely, that she is really a man. There were the military parades and the purging of female officers. Now his campaign speeches are filled with impromtu references to 'beautiful' men and hard, firm asses. He's gone 'round the bend'.

There is something deeply homosexual about every fascist movement. Look at the way they treat women. Hell, look at the helmets of the German Army during both world wars; and tRUMP and his maggots are no exception.

What's interesting is that his maggots laugh and applaud this, perhaps being too gullible and/or too stupid to realize that a genuine homosexual is standing before them in some kind of psychological drag. There are reasons, I suspect, that they are drawn to this spectacle and it is more than the stench. Come on, Maggots, it's safe to come out of the closet. No one is going to condemn you, least of all the man wearing mascara and the black eye-liner.

Impeach. Convict. Imprison.

October 29, 2026: Southern Fried Chicken, Fire and Brimstone, Ossoff Maggots

 

Georgia Senator Jon Ossoff will be the next Democratic candidate for President of the United States. Indeed, he will be the next President of the United States provided he takes a critical stand against the genocide in Gaza and promises to bulldoze everything our present obsenity has done to the White House, reflecting pool, the D.C. Golf course and that ridiculous Ark de Stench.

Ossoff, quite simply commands the podium. Like Bobby's '68 campaign, Ossoff's campaign for re-election has propelled him from an obscure back bencher in the Senate to a formidable Presidential contender. He, quite simply, has taken command.

Nowhere has this become more evident that the recent debate with his challanger, Athens own ReSCUMlickan congressman Mike Collins. Collins, like Michigan's Mike Rogers had avoided previous confrontations leaving both Ossoff and Abdul El-Sayed to debate empty chairs. It should, if either Collins or Rogers had any sense, have been left that way. But both, now in the waning hours of their respective contests and desperate to do something to shake things up, finally decided to face their opponents. Humiliation waited in the wings. Rogers found himself facing a former University of Michigan football captain and Rhodes Scholar with a strange name but a crystal clear message. Collins was more unfortunate.

Jon Ossoff, simply, mopped the floor with the hapless election denying fascist standing before him. With righteous indignation he castigated Collins to his face for his ties to white Christian nationalists and holocost deniers. He accused him of lying, of supporting tRUMP's tariffs, his cutting of medicaid and Medicare forcing the closing of rural hospitals, his cuts to ObamaCare forcing millions to lose health insurance across the country, his misuse of public funds (1). The litany goes on and on and on. Collins, for his part, stood stone faced, struggling mightily not to express his panic and, indeed, terror under the relentless hammering, leaving him doing a weak and comical impression of Ralph Cramden's deer caught in the headlights stammering habbadah, hobbadah, hobbadah. Images of the famous “Can it core a apple”, scene in which Kramden and Norton are found doing a live television commercial for some kitchen appliance Ralph had fallen upon as his next get rich scheme. Look it up, you'll enjoy the humor.

The question, which has always lurked in the background of this campaign is: how could such a moron, such a troglydite, come to represent the city of Athens in Congress. The answer is Barrow County and the surrounding countryside around this oasis in the middle of intellectual and cultural desert. I've lived in Winder, home of Richard Russell. I know these people. Winder is to Athens as Howell is to Ann Arbor, Howell being the home of Michigan's Ku Klux Klan. Anyone familiar with both states understands immediately the analogy. Collin's immediate predecessor was Paul Braun, who I have accused, given his public posturing and congressional voting record, of being Eva's long lost bastard son. So Jon Ossoff was thrown a softball, another maggott unable to defend his actions and too chicken to take the stage and face his public. Finally, in one last desperate attempt to avoid ablivion he finally emerged only to be fried over an open pit of righteous indignation.

He had every reason to avoid the traditional debates nearly ever state holds to decide congressional elections. I've seen Ossoff address black Baptist congregations quoting, like James Talarico in Texas, snd Jimmy Carter before him, scripture reclaiming the intent, if not the will, of the Lord as he fillets our erstwhile Caesar and his minion Mike Collins for their greed, avarice, corruption and cruelty. Collins could respond with nothing except a whimper and moan. Game over.

The Democrats have, finally, a champion. One who can command the stage and, without raising his voice, fry tRUMP and his maggots over a barbeque pit of fire and brimstone. Ossoff, maggots, your time is at hand.

____________

1, Collins is credibly accused of using public money to pay a girlfriend of one of his staffers. According to reports he had her on his office payroll paying her to do a job she never showed up to do Ossoff also accused Collins, right to his face, of employing white nationalists in his office and distributing from his office racist literature.

October 26, 2025: Ramismarmy Redux, Depths of Depravity, Gag A Maggot

 

“As we go to the polls, America hold's it's nose seeking ablution and forgiveness. “

---- Quotations of Chairman Joe

As the nation approached its first caucuses and primaries it was presented with an entirely 'fresh' new face. It was early in 2024 and ReSCUMlickan hopefuls were lined up eager to take the mantle of party leadership from the soiled hands of Caesar Disgustus.

Disgustus was nowhere to be found. He had announced his candidacy some 14 or so months earlier but eschewed the debates citing some bullshit reason or other condescendingly contending that he saw no point in them since everyone was by now keenly aware of his greatness. In truth, former New Jersey Governor Chris Christie was on this stage prepared to gut the swine. Christie, also a former prosecuting attorney had done just that to Jared Kushner's father and was prepared to cross examine the Golden Swine on national television. Disgustus, the truth be known, was terrified.

Instead, standing in for him, was his proxy Vivek Ramismarmy, or is it Ramiswampy, then a young multimillionaire with no credentials and of uncertain origin. On stage and throughout the night Vivek bobbed and weaved in what became a nauseating display of political obsequiousness as he launched a full-throated defense of his champion: Caesar Disgustus himself. While Christie had rejected tRUMP and tRUMPism, and the others were keeping a measured distance, Ramismarmy unapologetically wrapped his arms around the Orange Turd. The stench has and will forever remain. Try as he might, he simply cannot shake the smell. No ablution will wash it off. Wherever he goes, whatever social circles in which he moves, people find him nauseating. Vivek has become the proverbial pole cat at every barn dance.

Nevertheless, he is now found standing for election to be Ohio's next governor. Disgustus, in an act of rare loyalty to a sycophant, has endorsed him and, having survived the primaries, Ramismarmy now stands with a legion of Maggots now in close contests and poised to lose offices now held by the Party. There is Cornin's Senate Seat in Texas, Graham's Seat in South Carolina, seats in Main, Nebraska, Kansas, Alaska, Iowa and Florida. About 40 seats, it is said, are up for grabs in the House, several Governor's contests and a host of state legislative seats. The stench of Disgustus has wound its way down to every level of governance, yea even unto the rat catcher.

So here we find Ramismarmy who has won the prize but finds that it comes attached with a smell. It is a stench so overpowering as to sting the eyes and burn the nostrils. He is desperate. What to do? Being desperate and, like his mentor having no demonstrable talent for this game, he puts together a television campaign ad featuring his opponent's mother denouncing her daughter as a liar and a fraud. Ms. Acton's mother, appearing as a refugee from Skid Row, is recorded savaging the reputation of a child she left behind. It was quickly revealed that the reason for the estrangement is that her step father raped her when she was between the ages of 9 and 12 and that the mother sided with her husband over the dispute. Not only did the authorities take the children but Ms. Acton's mother fled the state with the rapist. She has had no contact with her birth mother since and hasn't heard from her until Ramismarmy dragged her up from the depths of depravity in an attempt to smear his opponent.

This has caused a firestorm across the political spectrum. Even Republicans are nauseated. Governor Dan Dewine, approaching retirement has savaged Ramismarmy for this unconscionable act, as have several governors, Senators, members of congress and party leaders. Not so our Caesar Disgustus and the couch-humping tele-tubby standing by his side. Disgustus has been surprisingly consistent; whenever a scandal involving child sexual abuse emerges, tRUMP and his minions rush to the immediate defense of the perpetrator. This is behavior fitting of a man who appears in the Epstein files tens of thousands of times and has been credibly accused of raping a 13 year old girl.

Rick Wilson, author of Everything Trump Touches Dies, and former campaign consultant for Republican presidential hopefuls, has pointed out that the worst possible thing a candidate can do is confirm everyone's worst suspicions. Ramismarmy's act of rancid desperation has served the useful purpose of shedding light on these maggots, revealing them for who they are and confirming our worst suspicions. He's done serious damage to not only his own campaign but to the party itself coming as it does on earlier revelations regarding tRUMP and Epstein, the Access Hollywood tapes, the E. Jean Carol case, ad nauseam.

Ohio is now gone. The Democrats will take the Senate seat, the Governor's mansion, probably a couple of House Seats. Ohio may well awake to a Democratic legislature. We all know how far the rot runs in the Republican Party, and the nation just got a good whiff of it; enough to gag a maggot.

As we go to the polls, America hold's it's nose seeking ablution and forgiveness.

Flush this turd, November 3^rd. Elementary hygiene requires it.

Impeach. Convict. Imprison.

October 25, 2026: Long on Desperation, Short on Hope, Make It Stop

 

Former ReSCUMlickan operative, co founder of The Lincoln Project, now political commentator Steve Schmidt has recently made a rather profound observation. The upcoming election will not be an embrace of the Democratic Party which has only recently polled ahead of the ReSCUMlickans in public confidence even though both parties stand in historically low esteem. No, says Schmidt, this will not be a referendum on the Democratic agenda. This will be a simple rebuke of tRUMP and everything he and his knuckle-dragging enablers stand for.

Schmidt compares the situation with the sinking of the Titanic in 1912. The public has a choice, stay on board and go down with the ship or take to the life boats. The Democrats here being the lifeboats. Nobody, says Schmidt, voluntarily leaves an ocean liner and climbs into a lifeboat to be lowered down in the dead of night into the cold Atlantic facing uncertain rescue unless one knows that the ship is going down. Nobody embraces the life boat except under dire circumstance; and one does so long on desperation and short on hope.

The Democrats, in Schmidt's telling, offer a short respite in the face of certain calamity. Nothing more, nothing less. Whether the Republic survives is still in the telling, but the shift toward the Democracy is the only hope still beating in the heart of America.

In this context the movement of large segments of the voting public toward the Democrats represents not an embrace of Chuck Schumer or Hakeem Jeffries, nor any particular part of the Democratic agenda but a simple demand to, in Schmidt's words, “make it stop”. This means, simply, that upon election the primary agenda of the new Congress is to begin investigations involving subpoenas of medical and financial records, transcripts of all communications, and the testimony of every member of this maladministration on a wide range of subjects including but not limited to: bribery, selling of pardons, foreign business deals, bitcoin and meme coin manipulations, government contracts, medical records and the testimony of every member of this maladministration involved in anything that does not pass the smell test. Given the stench now wafting from the bowels of Washington, this should take some time and will confirm all our worst suspicions. Disgustus and his henchmen must be held to account.

In this I quite agree. But I must also protest that to draw the line here is to once again fall prey to ReSCUMlickan strategy. You see, by limiting our response to accountability, as critically important as this is, one is left with the stark reality in that the ReSCUMlickans are still setting the agenda. This is merely a reactive posture. We must do more than that.

For nearly 6 decades the middle classes have been under siege, as the forces of neo-liberalism (that is conservatism as we understood these terms in our youth) have savaged the working class with higher taxes and fewer benefits; as the burden of taxation has fallen increasingly upon main street and less on Wall Street. In response, voters have caromed like a pinball from one political party to the other, desperately seeking some relief. Clinton talked about a 'bridge to the twenty first century' promising reeducation, job placement and plenty of new 'tech' jobs. Obama promised 'hope' and 'change'. Nothing changed. So the public, in collective disgust, heeded the siren songs of greed as they voted ReSCUMlickan on the false hope that the goods would fall from the Capitalist table in a bounty more than sufficient to feed the nation.

Neither party delivered.

This election is unlike any preceding election, presidential or mid-term in the last century. Nowhere on the landscape is there any serious discussion of what we are going to do about this mess. Instead we are being bombarded with hundreds of millions of dollars in political smear, character assassination, and outright lies. It's probably just as well for the public, having heard this song far too many times, would quickly dismiss any soothing palliatives. Who, after all this time, could take any suggestion that we pass Medicare for all seriously. Everyone by now knows that the medical and insurance cartels have such a stranglehold on the process as to make any such suggestions ludicrous. This isn't cynicism, it's political reality born of more than half century of abuse.

This is why both parties stand in such low esteem. The Democrats have betrayed the very middle class it created; and the ReSCUMlickans never intended to come to its rescue.

Something has to give and soon.

I'm suggesting here that Steve Schmidt is half right. No doubt the first order of business is to begin to staff congressional committees to investigate every aspect of this corrupt enterprise. But it must not stop there. Within days of the swearing in of the new Congress, legislation must be proposed to raise the minimum wage, control derivatives, abolish cyber currencies, break up the mega banks, the utilities the energy cartels, and scatter them into a thousand separate enterprises. A new era of anti trust enforcement must begin and notice given the courts that should they interfere the Congress will discipline the federal bench. Congress has the power of the purse over the federal judiciary and can not only impeach jurists for obstruction but can reorganize the entire branch of government.

For the next two years Congress, while investigating the hell out of this cabal currently occupying the White House, can also roll 'grenades' up Pennsylvania Avenue by way of bills to rescue the middle class. Laws making labor organization mandatory, reinstating air, land and water pollution standards, raising penalties for white collar crime, re-establishing the authority of regulatory agencies and, among other things, redefining the concept of 'advise and consent' when it comes to executive appointments. I suggest that instead of holding hearings on appointments and simply voting yea or nay, that the Senate present the 'president' with three possible persons it deems fit for the appointment among whom he is free to choose. This under the 'advise' part of the constitutional clause. Any other nominations will be dead on arrival. The Constitutional Convention, after all, came within a single vote of make the senate a committee of the whole empowered to manage the entire executive branch. In the end, it was decided that this would be to unwieldy and opted for a 'president' instead. But the Founders clearly never intended Congress, and especially the Senate, to assume a simple passive role, something our neo fascist adherents of the 'unitary executive' theory popular in places like the University of Chicago and Yale simply choose to ignore.

The Congress can and should immediately begin rolling these bills up the Avenue and make the Bastard veto them. This would quickly demonstrate that this clown, or anyone who could possibly succeed him, are anything but champions of those of us who work for a living. In addition, laws putting teeth in the Epstein files law. Laws creating 'rocket dockets' for cases involving political corruption or malfeasance. Laws leveling the playing field. You get the picture. We need a new New Deal.

It is time to shove the face of this nation into the pile of shit our erstwhile Caesar has created and, in so doing, begin to address the inequities not only of our economic order but our legal and political ones as well.

In the meantime, Congress should not wait for this 'rogues gallery' now occupying cabinet posts to move on the 25^th amendment. Congress, under the amendment, should create its own body to determine the unfitness of this lunatic, and remove him with all deliberate speed.

Impeach, Convict, Imprison.

October 19, 2026: Dancing Star, Speed of Thought, Sharpen The Edges.

 

“One must have madness in one's soul to give birth to a dancing star”

----Friedrich Nietzsche

Sometime in the mid aughts I got this phone call from my daughter. “Am I alright?” she asked me with a mix of frustration and desperation. Another one of those conversations I thought to myself. “Why, have you been talking to your grandmother again? You know why we call her 'Nanna the Nut.” We both laughed out loud.

It had been a standing joke between us since she was little, when Nanna tried to convince her mother that my 'shoes', as I call her because she is as comfortable as an old pair of shoes, suffers from A.D.D. In this family one is either ill or pre-ill, always, it seemed, in need of intervention. “Am I O.K. Daddy?” she demanded to know, deep into her primary school years. “Yes,” I assured her, “you are disgustingly normal”. I could tell by the body language that she had taken the advice. I could see the shoulders sag, I could see the tension disappear. Calm had returned.

“ Who told you had A.D.D?” I asked knowing the answer. Like any good attorney I never ask the question unless I know the answer. “Nanna” she replied.

“And what do we call Nanna?” I asked her. “Nanna the Nut”, she blurted out through suppressed laughter.

“Yes. And Why do we call her Nanna the Nut?”, I intoned.

I don't know“

“Because she's a NUT”, I replied. We both laughed out loud till we cried. I was teaching her, at a tender age, the concept of source evaluation.

But this was an entirely different exchange. She was a young adult now, in her early twenties, fresh out of High School.

“No, it's not Nanna this time. My problem is that I can't talk fast enough to keep up with my head. My mind races and by the time I catch up with it I get lost in my train of thought. Things kind of disappear over the horizon. It's why I talk so fast and everyone complains about it thinking I've got some kind of nervous condition”.

“I understand”

“You have it too?” she asked.

“Yeah, but it will subside as you get older. It's not a condition, certainly not one to be treated. You are merely moving at the speed of thought. It's not quite as fast as the speed of light, but it will outstrip your peers. Some will recognize it and challenge you telling you that they know you can do better. Others will be put off, even frightened by it. Pay them no mind. They don't understand, and they won't understand. It's your special gift. Treasure it. These are not voices in your mind, it is your own voice, your own subconscious telling you, articulating what you already know. Capture it,and occasional wisdom will be gleaned therefrom. Some will call it madness; I prefer to call it dancing.

I understood then and there that I had created a kindred spirit and, thereafter, we would leap-frog over one another in conversation in mental games of one upsmanship, each racing ahead of the other in sometimes heated but always joyous combat. It is our ritual. When she begins to feel stagnant, when life has dulled her blades, she seeks out her father. She returns to the grindstone in order to sharpen her edges and prepare to combat the world. She has learned to dance on the ice, with all the confidence in the world.

I love you my “Dancing Star”.

October 16, 2026: Doesn't Look Good, Crude Instruments, The Political Woodshed

 

The October inflation numbers are in and it doesn't look good for our Caesar Disgustus. The Consumer Price Index has inflation at 3.7 per cent higher than a year before with most of it concentrated in the energy and food sectors of the economy. Worse still, is the P.P.I index which charts wholesale prices showing an increase of 6.3 per cent year-over-year increase. This means that inflation isn't coming down any time soon. Disgustus, as always, has made a pig's breakfast of things.

It is rumored that the Federal Reserve is, once again, contemplating increasing the prime interest rate charged banks when they borrow money from the fed. What else can the bastards do?

The Fed, as the Federal Reserve is known, has few tools in its tool kit. In fact, only two. One is the money set aside to bail out the banks in time of crisis, as in 2008-9. The second is the fiddling with the prime interest rate in order to regulate consumer demand and, by extension, the rate of inflation. Both are crude instruments at best, and both are worthless in the current context.

You see, we are back in the '70s, facing the same 'stagflation' for the same reason. To wit: interruptions in the supply chain, again oil and gas, causing a spike in prices as demand outstrips supply. In the 70s it was due to Nixon's support of Israel during and in the wake of the Yom Kippur War; today it is the result of tRUMP's support of Israel in this mindless conflict with Iran. In the 70's we got the Arab Oil Boycott, today we have the closing of the straight of Hormuz and the consequent devastation of refineries, oil pipelines, and freighters to transport oil and gas to the world's markets. These disruptions of a primary resource to modern economies creates both an economic slowdown, due to higher prices on production and consequent shrinking of capital, higher unemployment and, curiously higher inflation because of the ripple effect of spiking energy prices. This creates what had hitherto not been seen: increased unemployment and increased prices at the same time. Stagflation, as it came, in the 1970's, to be known. Only Nixon, it was held, would be capable of pulling this one off.

Not so, it now appears.

It's not supposed to happen this way. According to classic textbook economics there is an inverse relation between inflation and unemployment. Higher unemployment is supposed to curb inflation through the expedient of reducing demand, “cooling” the economy by reducing the number of dollars in pursuit of now fewer goods as the economy contracts. Therefore, if the Fed raises interest rates, money becoming more expensive means fewer consumer loans, the purchase of fewer goods resulting in more unemployment leading to reductions in the money supply circulating through the economy, hence, it is held, less inflation. The value of money is therefore secured. This is how the Capitalist ensures the value of his investments, since all value is measured in dollars. This is also why the working stiff is never invited to share in the bounty he or she produces.

But, I digress.

The problem, at least since Nixon and not seen since, is that both Nixon and tRUMP have revealed an entirely new economic phenomenon wherein serious disruptions of the supply chain breaks all the dictum's of classic economics. That is, the relationship between employment and inflation is not an inverse relationship but a reciprocal one in which one reinforces and adds to the other. Inflation causes more unemployment, because of the constriction in purchasing power and unemployment causes more inflation because of, among other things, the ever rising cost of money. The Fed raising the prime rate to nearly 20 per cent in 1980 is a clear case in point. And, as these columns have pointed out, the ministrations of Messrs. Volker and Greenspan served to only exasperate the crisis by increasing the cost of doing business by jacking up the prime interest rates. Indeed, one could make the case that by the late 80s the single factor in the inflation index was the cost of money itself.

Inflation here is not due to an 'overheated' economy. It is due to disruptions in the supply of goods and services. Biden's inflation was not due to federal spending it was due to forced unemployment caused by the pandemic, the closing of factories, the shutting down of human interaction meaning services to those absolutely necessary in order to provide minimal functioning as the nation, indeed the world, struggled with this global crisis. This is understood by neither classical economists nor ReSCUMlickan Stink Tanks, like the Heritage Foundation. Nor is it understood by The Wall Street Journal, Faux News, Newsmax or any of the simpletons holding court on hate radio.

My point is that the Fed simply doesn't have the tools in its toolbox to deal with this, not in anything like a timely and effective manner. Raising rates only adds to inflation. Strangely, tRUMP is right about this, but for the wrong reasons. He rails against the fed because he wrongly holds them responsible for preventing the dawn of his delusional golden age. The problem is, as always, that like Nixon he is the author of his own demise.

It is tRUMP's tariffs, and his ill-advised and ill-conceived war with Iran, that has caused these disruptions. Again, as has been pointed out in these columns, unless one can meet demand through domestic production, any increase in tariffs will result in increased prices precisely because the American consumer will be forced to pay the additional tax, there being no other alternative. Now ask yourself, how many goods on the shelves of Walmart or your big box store do you see that are made in this country? How many on Amazon? I rest my case.

It took 20 years to wring the inflation and restore the 'balance' in the wake of Nixon and Kissassinger's Middle Eastern adventures. It took a lot less than that to right the ship in the wake of the Second World War. That's because Harry Truman used wage and price controls. Nixon, through inspired incompetence, put Donald Rumsfeld in charge of that and made a pig's breakfast of things destroying, perhaps for all time, that simple remedy. ReSCUMlickans, for all their presumed 'business acumen', simply do not understand economics.

So Disgustus, promising to end inflation “on day one”, now finds himself totally enmeshed with the tar Baby. Like Nixon, he just couldn't say no to Israel and keep his hands off the Middle East. As he 'leads' his party into the mid-term elections, Disgustus now finds a mere 9 per cent of the nation 'strongly' supporting him, a clear majority now 'strongly' oppose him, with at least 2/3 of the nation disapproving of his job performance, depending upon the issue in question. A hiding now awaits him in the political woodshed.

It has been too long in coming.

An' Bre'er Putin, he jus' laugh and laugh

Impeach. Convict. Imprison

October 14, 2026: Still In Spin, Greeks Call Hubris, Determined Ignorance

 

“and don't speak too soon

for the wheel's still in spin”

----Bob Dylan

He is a turd on the run. The days of reckoning are fast approaching. Disgustus, once the predator is now the prey. He is the proverbial cornered rat. With the fast changing political landscape, our Disgustus is found scurrying from Nebraska down to Alabama in desperate attempts to rally his dwindling political forces in what is increasingly a lost cause.

Two years ago, it didn't look like this. Stoked with 270 million dollars by Felon Musk, the South African rat, and buoyed by the always reliable strains of racism and misogyny, Disgustus, as Karl Rove and Dubya before him, crowed that we had now entered the promised land. A new 'permanent majority' was now at hand and ReSCUMlickans would reign forever. Enough self-hating Latinos and Uncle Toms had now joined forces with White Nationalists to ensure that they would rule, if not forever, for at least the next half century.

This, of course, is what the Greeks would call hubris. Somehow this political platform, constructed as it is out of middle class angst and upper class greed, minority aspirations and white racism, would hold together under the combined impact of tRUMP's unfathomable ignorance and the mendacity of Stephen Miller's ICE raids. The internal contradictions quickly unraveled the movement, as black males and Lastinos, who held their noses and their breath long enough to cast their votes for the Orange Turd in '24 have recovered their sense of smell and are now nowhere to be found. White farmers and ranchers, savaged by his tariffs, crippled by his immigration policies, and stung by his importation of foreign beef, are now in open revolt. The stench that always precedes a tRUMP arrival hanging over his presence like a waste treatment facility, has proved too overpowering. Ignorance, like we used to say of virginity is its own punishment.

Our Caesar has spoke too soon. He told us that if we voted for him in '24 that we would never need to vote again. Now, he finds that Texas is in play, Latinos, especially along the Rio Grande river valley, terrorized by Miller's Gestapo tactics, his building of concentration camps, and his raids upon schools, cathedrals and farms have quickly driven them back into the arms of the Democrats. So too is Kansas, Nebraska and, increasingly places like Iowa, Idaho and Montana where ranchers and farmers, under siege by the implementation of determined ignorance feel the sting of his trade and tariff policies, his gutting of USAID, food stamps, and school lunch programs; his terrorizing of farm labor by Miller's thugs; his raising the cost of fertilizer and diesel fuel by his ill conceived and incompetently conducted war with Iran. Hell, even Senate races in Florida and South Carolina are now in play. Disgustus, increasingly, has nowhere to run.

On Sunday we found him in Alabama sweating and stinking before a crown measured in mere hundreds. His recently launched 'tRUMP TV' a YouTube like venture has gathered a mere handful of viewers, fewer than 8 hundred at 'launch'. Podcasts featuring toenail clipping have greater audiences.

He, and his bowel movement, have become unbearable with job approval numbers now in Nixonian territory. With his body deteriorating, his mind rotting, and his political movement disintegrating, the Grim Reaper, both figurative and literal, stands impatiently outside the door. His days are numbered.

An' Bre'er Putin, he jus' stand back and holds his nose.

Another “No Kings” protest is to be held on Saturday.

Impeach. Convict. Imprison.

October 13, 2026: Vichy Democrats, Limp-wrist-ed Leadership, Imagined Common Ground

 

The Maggot coalition is disintegrating before our very eyes. It is a joy to behold and, god knows, is long overdue. But what is troubling in these troubling times is that no matter how low our Caesar Disgustus has dragged us; no matter how violent the recoil from the repugnant stench of the Orange Turd; no matter the determination of the majority of this nation to flush the Maggots from the body politic, the fact remains that the Democrats, however improbably, stand in lower esteem than the ReSCUMlickans.

How can this be? How on earth can the Democratic Party, the creator of the modern middle class, the historic champion of middle America, find itself in such straights?

The answer is the limp-wrist-ed 'leadership' of this party. It began, famously, with the advent of the Democrat's own 'southern strategy', nominating first Jimmy Carter of Georgia then, later, Bill Clinton of Arkansas. Carter, famously, declared war on the tax code calling it a 'disgrace to the human race' promising to overhaul the system. Unfortunately, it was left to Reagan to do this and with the acquiescence of then House Speaker Thomas 'Tip' O'Neil (D-Mass) the way was cleared for huge tax breaks to corporate America, while cutting deductions for household expenses like interest on consumer loans and medical expenses. Then there were the tax increases on Medicare, Social Security and the end of revenue sharing leaving state and local governments to pick up the slack. This shifted the tax burden from already reduced 'progressive' income tax brackets to state and local taxes which meant greater reliance of regressive sales taxes. To add insult to injury the national craze started by Howard Jarvis in California to shift state funding from property taxes to sales taxes further accentuated the problem. The result was a declaration of war on the middle class.

O'Neil accepted this believing that when the public got a good dose of unadulterated ReSCUMlickanism, the voters would race back into the arms of the Democratic Party. Indeed the mid-term election of 1982 brought marginal gains for the Democrats but didn't restore the Senate and by the time Bill Clinton came along the Democratic Party, under the 'followership' of his “Democratic Leadership Council or DLC, had reduced the once progressive Democratic Party into a tepid “Bush-Lite”. Clinton did nothing but ratify Reagan-Bush famously declaring that “the era of big government is over”. Upon watching that speech I audibly groaned.

The history of the dynamics between the two parties since Carter is that the ReSCUMlickans act and the Democrats react, meaning that the increasingly fascist movement that is modern 'conservatism' sets the agenda and the Democrats now resemble the World War Two Vichy government of France, offering mild resistance but mostly capitulation and outright cooperation with those who would destroy first the American Middle Class, then the government and, eventually, the nation itself.

Obama rescues the banks but not the workers. Biden and Garland refuse to prosecute those who planned and attempted to execute a veritable coup de etat. At no time in the last 40 years have the Democrats attempted a serious reversal of the massive tax cuts given the capitalist pigs by the ReSCUMlickan Party. Instead, the Democrats have been working the margins, long on promises and short on delivery.

Look at the present 'leadership' in Congress. You've got Chuck Schumer (D- Wall Street) and Hachim Jeffries of Brooklyn. Jeffries notably engaging in a clandestine meeting with Jared Kushner, the purpose of which is largely unknown.

Jeffries, upon discovery of this treachery, meekly protested that he was trying to reach some imagined common ground wherein progress could be made on several areas of mutual interest.

One can only imagine what that would be.

Such meetings can only take place wherein the subject matter under discussion is an apology by the Orange Turd to the nation for his gross incompetence and inspired stupidity; the announcement of his immediate resignation; and that he will then proceed to the nearest magistrate for immediate arraignment and incarceration pending trial.

One does not compromise with fascism.

Impeach, Convict, Imprison.

October 8, 2026: Bright October Morning, Godspeed My Katie, Not Forgotten

 

It was eleven years ago, on a then bright October morning that I arose at the crack of dawn. My wife had suffered a severe stroke a week earlier and had been fighting for her life. Things had not gone well.

Katherine had her first stroke several years earlier damaging 3 of the 12 major nerve bundles in the Cerebral cortex. This primarily affected her speech and motor skills and, though still able to walk with some assistance, left her weak. What followed were months of rehabilitation involving nurses, home visits, physical, occupational and speech therapy. It was a long recover. Eventually, withing six months she was able to return to work, although no longer as administrative assistant to the CIO of the University of Georgia. Instead she was assigned to one of the directors to work on several special projects.

Several medical professionals had urged to apply for disability, but Katherine's identity was her career and she tenaciously remained at work slogging it out. I could always tell when she had had enough, for when she tired the 'scanning' speech would return so pronounced that people would ask her what country she came from, guessing somewhere in Eastern Europe or Pakistan. “Tennessee”, she would reply with a smile.

By 2011 it became apparent that she could not go on much more. When a friend told her that she could line up a job where she could work from home, I told her to jump at the opportunity. And so she left the University and set out on our own even though I had little faith that any such position would be forthcoming.

The next four years saw the closing down of the horizons, a series of employment rejections concluding with her finally filing for disability. Then came a series of mini strokes, a rather serious one in November od 2014, which left her confined to her room upstairs because it was next to the bathroom. For months her life was confined to three rooms, her bedroom, the bathroom and a spare beadroom wherein I had rigged a television and CD player. I brought her meals upstairs daily, along with ther medications. I had also rigged the house with handholds, and purchased canes and walkers so that she could move from room to room. Eventually she made it back downstairs again, and finally out side, into our vehicle, and we were able to move about.

On the evening of October 1, 2016 as she was sitting in the living room she complained of not feeling well. She got up and headed for the staircase and began climbing the stairs. She got as far as the landing between the floors and collapsed. I rushed up the stairs to find her on the floor looking confused, her face contorted and unable to clearly speak. I called an ambulance.

It took 45 minutes even though we lived a mere 4 blocks from the hospital. Nevertheless, the ambulance arrived and they carried her out into the night. She would never return home.

The prognosis was not good. There was a blood clot in a major artery and would have to be dissolved to prevent major brain damage. There was a two percent chance that doing so would kill her. I authorized the procedure and the drugs were administered. The breakup of the clot basically blew out one hemisphere of her brain leading, by degrees to surgery where half her skull was removed to relieve the pressure. For a week she lay in intensive care, each day bringing more bad news, a more pessimistic prognosis. Initially, it was thought that she would probably be placed in a nursing home. But by the end of the week it was clear that she wasn't going to make it. I made arrangements and then decided when it was time to pull the plug and, as I arose of that Thursday morning eleven years ago today, I knew what confronted me.

My daughter and I headed toward the hospital, now some 40 miles distant as she had been medivac'd by helicopter a week previously. It was a long drive, perhaps the longest in my life. We arrived and were joined by my niece who was head nurse in the cardiac ward, two of my brothers, another niece as the time approached. I asked how long it would take and the nurse said it could go quickly or it could take some time. It is impossible to say. I gave the nod.

They began the procedure, going about uplugging her from all the machinery that had been keeping her alive, including the respirator. Immediately I could hear the death rattle.

I went to her and held her as her breathing became more irregular and labored, wispering softly in her ear that it was time and that I loved her. “Godspeed, my Katie” I repeatedly whispered in her hear not knowing if she could still hear me. It had taken about 4 minutes and then I felt her take her last breath. It was 12:15 in the afternoon. Official time of death recorded as half hour later. She was 55 years young.

Godspeed, my Katie. You have not been forgotten.