Disgustus, ever fearful of another attack on his wretched person and painfully aware of the empty seats at his ever diminishing venues, has taken to holding his 'rallies' is comfort zones, small rural communities where the population despises education, miscegenation and integration.
The King Hell Rat has been recently spotted holding court in places like Howell and Pottersville, Michigan. I'm familiar with Michigan, my old home state. Although it has been some time since I traveled its roads, I'm familiar enough with its history. These are towns known in the black community as 'sundown' towns, places where one does not go, if one is black, after dark.
Howell, is a case in point. It's reputation for racism is so pronounced that both Keith Olbermann and Steve Schmidt, John McCain's presidential campaign manager, were moved to comment on it. Howell is home to the headquarters of the Michigan Klu Klux Klan, and has recently held a parade where the Klan marched down Main Street chanting “we love Hitler, we love tRUMP”(1) Disgustus, held court in the parking garage of the Livingston County Sheriff's Department standing at a makeshift podium in front of a phalanx of the appropriately brown shirted Sheriff's deputies as well as the Sheriff of Livingston County.
Next he moved on the Potterville, a small town south of Lansing, Michigan, population a bit over 3,000 souls. Disgustus, speaking before a half empty auditorium claimed with a straight face that the 'authorities' were blocking thousands from entering the hall, echoing a charge he has made at earlier 'rallies' in Georgia and Pennsylvania, all in an attempt to cover up his obviously dwindling appeal as fewer and fewer citizens are willing to brave the stench and gather to see and hear his endless drivel about Hannibal Lechter, electric boats and sharks.
Disgustus is afraid. He is, and always has been, in the words of his niece Mary Trump, “a frightened little boy”. He knows he is now outclassed. He knows he is now facing the prosecutor. He knows he is about to face the 'shark' in the form of Kamala Harris, who will cut him to pieces and render his fat bloated carcass to the bottom feeders. He openly confesses that, presented with such a fate, he would prefer electrocution. Confession Donald?
Harris terrifies tRUMP. The extent of his fear is betrayed by his endless braying about someone, acting nefariously, preventing the throngs of faithful from entering the arena. Lansing's Channel 6 News had a team at the event to cover his arrival showing his 'motorcade' passing by a sparse crown looking very much like one assembling six hours before a typical Memorial Day parade in any small town in America. A couple of hundred at best sitting on folding lawn chairs with their ridiculous tRUMP flags as testimony of both their staggering ignorance and their joy at being consistently fed falsehoods. It is here, in the bastions of ignorance, where Disgustus has found his last redoubt. It is here, in the half-empty halls, where his crowds are shriveling down to the size of his penis that Disgustus finds his greatest comfort; the echoes of his own voice bouncing off the empty seats and walls to an audience of ONE.
Imprison the Bastard.
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Howell's notorious history was mentioned in both Olbermann's “Countdown” and Steve Schmidt's “This is the Warning” podcasts in the days following tRUMP's event there. In a campaign appearance reminiscent of Ronald Reagan kicking off his post convention campaign in 1980 at a town in Mississippi a few miles from where three civil rights workers were murdered in 1964, Caesar Disgustus is seen here openly playing the race card.
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