“Are you now, or have you every been, a member of
the Democratic Party?”
It is readily apparent to even the most casual observer
that the impeachment was a whitewash. Not since Tom Sawyer convinced
his friend Ben Rogers that it was indeed an 'honor' to whitewash his
Aunt Polly's picket fence have we seen such levitation of purpose.
Indeed, the chinless bastard convinced nearly his entire
caucus that it is indeed an honor to whitewash the record for his
aunt Polly. That would be the best face one could put upon this
iniquity. More likely, a measure of duress was employed. More likely, fear and terror.
Senator Sheldon Whitehouse (D-Rhode Island), appearing
on The Rachel Maddow Show the week before the verdict,
revealed that the entire Republican Caucus in the Senate lives in
terror—not so much of tRUMP, whom they despise—but of the
oligarchs who fund the Republican Party. What terrorizes them is not
so much the threat of primary challenge—many of them won't face
reelection until after Disgustus leaves office and several are
retiring—but having the financial spigot turned off if they oppose
the chinless bastard. The awful truth is that McConnell controls the
money donated to Senate campaigns by the Billionaires—the Mercers,
the Adelsons, the Kochs of this world. Republican Senators are
terrorized not only by the vituperation of Fixed Noise and hate
radio, but that they will be left twisting in the wind, penniless,
like homeless vagabonds. And, since they have little indigenous
support among the rank-and-file of their party, they have nowhere to
turn. They are simple water-carriers for their paymasters, piss-boys
as it were tending the urgent needs of the aristocracy as they stroll
their manicured domain, posing as actors of substance—indeed posing
as the very representatives of the nation.
“Oh Piss Boy!” the aristocrat calls out, as in some Mel Brooks comedy, and they come running—chamber
pot in hand.
Terror. The reign of
terror. Disgustus holding court in the East Room, ranting and
railing against his adversaries, threatening revenge. Disgustus at
the White House Prayer Breakfast venting his spleen. Everyone
watching nervously, everyone looking straight ahead, not knowing how
to react. Muffled laughter snakes through the room as it scurries
out the door. Everyone terrorized that they will react
inappropriately and become the object of King Midas' scorn.
Watching the scenes
unfold as Disgustus attempts his victory laps, one is reminded of the
obscene demonstrations of servility displayed in his first cabinet
meeting where each department head was called upon to display undying
gratitude for his beneficence and undying loyalty to his person; each
in turn pledging fealty to the sovereign, each prostrate before the
Golden Swine.
Images of Iraq also
leap to mind, the Iraqi Parliament in terror as Saddam Hussein
speaks, nobody wants to be seen not applauding, each trying to outdo
the other in demonstrations of support as members are being hauled
out before their eyes never to be seen again. Flash now to the East
Room of the White House as grown men and women drawn into a pit of
terror, with Disgustus orchestrating and feeding on the fear, in
full-throated rage, as he threatens retribution.
“Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of
the Democratic Party?”
This is how you
castrate manliness. This is how you create a nation of bleating
sheep. This is how you destroy a republic.
An Br'er Putin, he just laugh and laugh.
Impeach and Imprison
No comments:
Post a Comment