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.

October 3, 2026: In The Stretch, A Sinking Ship, Better Than Watergate

 

Thirty one days before the election when Americans will render a preliminary verdict on the second tRUMP maladministration. It doesn't look good for our Orange Turd posturing as modern Caesar. The stomach retching stench has even the maggots looking to the skies and crying out in anguish, “my god what have we wrought?”. What indeed.

As we round the corner and head into the stretch it doesn't look good, as we approach the finish line, for the Ralph Kramden of contemporary politics.

He is seventy points, in several recent polls, “underwater” on his handling of the economy. A seventy point spread puts him at a mere 15 percent approval as opposed to 85 percent disapproval. His numbers are even worse when it comes to his handling of inflation. Whatever the issue, tRUMP is deep in the hole. Indeed, among independents those who 'strongly support' him are now numbered in single digits, a mere nine percent. A further fall of as little as four percent would put him within the margin of error, which is to say near non-existent. Meanwhile independent voters who strongly disapprove of his governance is now a clear majority of around 53 percent. This is a segment of the population that outnumbers both Democrats and Republicans and decide elections. Half the nation tell pollsters that they won't vote for a single Republican.

He hasn't delivered on a single campaign promise. Inflation continues to rise with gasoline at four and a half dollars and diesel at near six dollars a gallon. Housing is unaffordable. So are groceries with some items 40 percent or more higher. He hasn't built the wall. He hasn't delivered the DOGE checks, nor the refund of the Obamacare subsidy. And the tariff rebate, well that went to the corporations on the legal fiction that it was they who paid the tax after they passed the cost off to we consumers. He hasn't released all of the Epstein files, fearing his exposure as a pedophile. He has got us into another foreign war, one in which there appears no quick exit, short of embarrassing defeat. He has savaged our manufacturing sector and the auto industry in particular.

Recent polling casts a deep pall over Rescumlickan prospects as the public credits tRUMP and his clown show with their increasing troubles. Not Biden nor the 'socialists', but Disgustus and his minions.

It is so bad that ReSCUMlickans have all but given up on retaining the Senate seat in North Carolina vacated by Tom Tillis who, facing maggot backlash in the primaries has decided to seek the exits. Soon to follow will be Ohio and blood-red Texas where Democrats haven't won any state-wide office since Lloyd Bensten, thirty years ago. ReSCUMlickan seats in Ohio, Main, and Alaska are in play, and the contests are near even in Nebraska, Kansas, South Carolina and Florida.

If all goes well Democrats will easily take 5 seats, I wouldn't be surprised that it is twice that number. It has long been shaping up to be that kind of year.

And Disgustus can blame no one but himself. He has savaged the base of his support. Take Farm Country. He has chased the labor farmer's need to tend the crops from the field by terrorizing the population. He has increased the price of energy, fertilizer, machinery and the cost of export by his ill-advised tariffs. He has eliminated whole markets by ending USAID, which was, in effect, a farm subsidy. He has closed rural hospitals by cutting Medicaid. In every way possible he has savaged the rural economy and instituted a reign of terror. Hell, he's even savaged the ranchers by importing cheap beef from Argentina. Travel the countryside, one will search in vain for tRUMP flags, signs, and home-made portraits on landscapes featuring the 'golden one' painstakingly painted on the walls of barns and out-buildings. Stores which had sprung up across the countryside like weeds in the spring selling nothing but tRUMP merchandise are now boarded up or closing. The maggots are like rats jumping a sinking ship; all, that is, except Michael Cohen who inexplicably, has jumped from the lifeboat back aboard. He has screwed the American farmer and rancher coming and going; raising the cost of production and killing the markets. China is buying soybeans and other produce elsewhere. The same with Canada and much of the rest of the world. Disgustus is “underwater' in 47 of the 50 states with only Idaho, Wyoming and West Virginia still marginally in his column. Is it any wonder that Kansas and Nebraska, Iowa and, perhaps, Montana are now in play? A clear majority of Republicans polled now correctly blame not Biden but tRUMP for their troubles.

The “it was Joe Biden who shit my pants” strategy simply doesn't cut it anymore. Neither will idiotic appeals to 'cultural' issues like trans athletes, 'socialism', or imagined waves of crime or migration. No untold millions in campaign contributions will save him now. Nothing but outright fraud will prevent the reckoning.

The rats are jumping ship as White House aides are leaving in droves. It is best, they are advised, to lawyer up for their time before congressional committees awaits with all the attendant publicity. It promises to be great television, better than 'The Apprentice', better still than The Celebrity Apprentice, hell, even better than Watergate.

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

Roast this Pig

Impeach and Imprison.

September 25, 2026: My Pet Rock, President Stone, Rock Solid Leadership

 

I found it on the shore of the Eastern Bay, washed up on the beach near Petosky, Hemingway country. Forged in the furnace of mother earth, tempered by the weight of a mighty glacier, proud of its ancient heritage, and unwilling to witness the slow undoing of those rights to which nature has always been committed.  It beckoned me to lift it up and bring it home.

I was puzzled, uncertain what to do with it. Ground to a lustre by the weight of ancient ice and polished by endless waves, the bespeckled stone presents a stoic certain dignity. Wherein would I find a place suitable to its majesty?

Then, it came to me.

I remembered a long time ago that a wag, in an effort to present the world with something it didn't have, and which—in his telling-- it desperately needed, fell upon the idea of selling pet rocks. A rock, suitably encased in it's own 'dog house' as it were, we were told, was always there, always faithful. It makes no demands. It costs little. “That's it!”, I shouted and went about creating a suitable home.

But wherein to reside? Home of course, up upon the mantle. But in what kind of surroundings? In what would it be encased?

Then it came to me.

“The White House,” I laughed. So I went about constructing a replica of the White House into which, upon completion, I introduced this recently “elevated” resident.

And there it sits in all its majesty. It is a veritable oracle of wisdom, sitting silent in the Executive Mansion. This is no drama queen occupying the Oval Office. When you bring your troubles here you are greeted with stone silence, in your ears only the voice of your own conscience. And what better guide could one ask? Moreover, President Stone, as it is reverently called, will not appeal to your worst instincts, it cannot be brought to repeat our prejudices. It is made of sterner stuff, from the very materials from which man has long sought refuge.  Its upbringing simply will not permit it; for unlike the unnatural mating of a woman and Orangutan, Stone is one of nature's own. It knows from whence it came. It is proud of its ancient heritage; but it is an understated pride, a pride that does not need, nor does it require, monuments and constant reaffirmation.

Yes, my pet rock is far superior to what now defiles the Executive Mansion in Washington. The 'president-in-residence' here needs no need to paint his face; no need to demean and belittle; no need to wage war upon the world around it; no need for constant chaos and drama; no need to bear false witness. It does not whine and whimper; it does not insult our allies, betray our friends nor threaten our alliances; it will not impose ignorance and incompetence upon us; it is not mendacious nor sadistic and does not threaten to destroy whole civilizations; it does not foul itself nor emit repugnant odor.   Its sleep is not burdened by dark conspiracy.  The occupant of this Executive Mansion rests solid, serene and secure. My pet rock makes a greater 'president'.  It is older; it presents to the world more wisdom and better judgment; it is comfortable in it's own patina;  it does no harm.

But above all, it is far more competent, intelligent and articulate than our presiding Caesar Disgustus.

Say what you will.  You can call it madness, but while 'freckled' it is not feckless.  It is 'rock solid'.  This president is gleaned, like Hamm's Beer, from the land of sky blue waters, not flushed by Russian Agents from the underbelly of Gotham's lower intestines. 

 

“An' Br'er Putin he jus' laugh and laugh”

Impeach and Imprison.

August 31, 2026: The Nerd Reich, Silicon Valley Fascism, People Be Damned

  

The label “Nerd Reich” has suddenly appeared to describe the reign of terror instituted by the emergent Oligarchs of Silicon Valley. I was first introduced to the term by an emerging young folk musician named Jesse Wells who wrote a song by that title and, a few days later by former Republican campaign impresario turned pod caster Rick Wilson. Wilson, one may recall, is the author of “Whatever Trump Touches dies”, an early chronicle of the list of ongoing failures that have plagued tRUMP's entire existence on this planet. It was Wilson who featured, on a recent podcast, Gil Duran. Duran, a former reporter for the San Jose Mercury News later becoming opinion editor of The Sacramento Bee, then editorial page editor of The San Francisco Examiner. He is now an independent journalist and publishes two newsletters, The Nerd Reich being one of them.

Wilson, by way of introduction, confessed that he, as do I, wished he had been creative enough to come up with the title. It is an appropriate description of the people behind the emerging fascist movement in this country and around the world. The complete title being: The Nerd Reich, Silicon Valley Fascism And The War On Democracy. (1) That about sums it up.

We've all seen the images, and felt the devastating effects of this ignoble experiment in late-stage capitalism. On 'winning' the election there stood our once and future shitting 'president' before the nation and behind him stood a long line of 'whose who' in the tech world. Bezos, the 'droid' Zuckerberg, Felon Must, et. al., proudly smiling and congratulating themselves on a well executed vandalism. With Musk alone spending nearly three hundred million dollars, the Tech Bros had succeeded in pulling a coup. They accomplished the impossible. They succeeded in installing the stinking turd back into the white house. Soon enough we would return to 'government by shitter', and all the chaos that would entail.

They had achieved their prime objective: re-install the world's greatest idiot, its premier megalomaniac, its most incompetent fool, its greatest vandal into the nation's highest political office. It is the end game of their entire strategy: destroy not only the republic, but the nation and replace it with ill-defined corporate city states where our 'superiors' meaning the tech bros would run things and we would be left to catch-as-catch-can, mired in a 'gig' economy with little or no economic security and no long term nor even immediate prospects.

The Tech Bros, have convinced themselves that, like tRUMP, they possess superior genes. The world, therefore, is their proper inheritance. They see themselves as the emerging 'aristocracy' and long for a 'return' to the middle ages. Therefore, they envision a world that returns to the ancient city states of Greece or, perhaps the Hanseatic League of the Dark Ages. They would restore thrones and lord over us, the people be damned.

They literally hate democracy and republican governance. They despise any attempt to hold them accountable because they, after all, are superior beings. Just ask Peter Theil, or Donald tRUMP.

It is unclear, given their propensity to destroy (creative destruction they call it) and their determined effort to fragment and atomize society, how they will maintain this great wealth they have accumulated or what functional 'markets' would remain in place upon which to function.

For at base, these 'geniuses' are themselves not only the product of public education, but of world markets, markets that depend upon rules and standards. That is. they depend upon an economic order established through centuries of conflict, negotiation and trial and error. They are also the creatures of Government largesse unparalleled in the history of humanity. How does BitCoin, for instance, intended to destroy national economies function as a 'world' currency when there is no world order? Simple questions that evade the emerging 'genius' of the Valley elite.

Duran pointed out, in his interview with Rick Wilson, the painfully obvious: for all their mastery of technology, these guys (and almost all of them are young males) have no understanding of history. They have less understanding of their own origins. In fact, they are not very smart.

The technology upon which their fortune was created is itself a product of government. It was the United States Department of Defense that created the internet in the first place. It was NASA that miniaturized electronics and made home computing possible. And it is federal subsidy and funding that currently fuels their emerging dominance. While the Tech Bros gorge themselves at the public trough, they nevertheless spend hundreds of millions funding a 'war' against those very governments. Gratitude knows no place in a world fashioned by the likes of Ann Rand, much less the dim lights that shape their world view.

Nor does basic competence as witnessed by the serial explosions on the launch pad of Felon Musk's “starships”. Jesus Christ, talk about hubris, 'Starships” indeed. These rockets aren't going anywhere near 'stars', not even, it seems to any near planets. Musk, while making a pig's breakfast of Tesla, talks about 'colonizing' Mars. Mars, with no atmosphere, no electromagnetic field to protect 'life' from cosmic radiation, little water and a toxic soil presents a very inhospitable place. There is no life on the planet for a host of reasons. But Musk dreams of escape and, perhaps, for good reason. No one likes him. He, like tRUMP, has behaved like an entitled obnoxious fool. Frankly, we should immediately grant him his wish, shove him into a space capsule and blast him off into space. Oh, we can aim the” rocket toward Mars and wish him all the luck in the world.

Then there is 'artificial ignorance', or AI as it has come to be called. Oh yes, have fun with ChatGPT, or listen closely to the voice over on YouTube describing, for instance, baseball. It's the “Street Louis Cardinals”, or Alkaline instead of Al Kaline, pronounced Kay Line. It's Johnny Unit as instead of Johnny Unite Us. As it should be pronounced. You catch a lot of this, Mackinack Island instead of Macinaw as it is pronounced. AI gets nothing of this. Everything is literal. It is ignorance magnified. One trembles at the prospect. The world they are creating is a dumbing down, a much more shallow, a much more hollow, a much more artificial world. Cyberspace is not real space, but a mere imitation of the real world. You cannot smell it. You cannot taste it. You cannot touch it. You cannot feel it. What is 'artificial' by definition, should never replace what is real. It is no 'place' for life, real life, to find a habitat. It is unfit for human habitation.

What these clowns don't understand is that humanity has moved on. We the people demand a place at the table. Even the most backward of places declare themselves 'democratic', as in The Democratic Republic of North Korea, or Russia's increasingly fraudulent elections.

The Tech Bros, as Duran pointed out in his conversation with Rick Wilson, have no understanding and are completely ignorant of history. When confronted with oppression the elite's often come under siege. History instructs that every successful revolution is a middle class affair. It follows that the middle classes will not go quietly. The Tech Bros solution to this is your 'smart phone' and the universal surveillance it provides. It is Palantir, and data centers. It is the emergent apparatus of oppression. The Tech Bros see Orwell's 1984 not as a cautionary tale but as a blueprint, only the 'screen' is replaced by your phone which tracks your every move. The French had a solution for a regime that had become far too onerous. It was called the guillotine.

And if the Tech Bros insist, heads will role.

Impeach and Imprison

1. See Duran, Gilbert. “The Nerd Reich, Silicon Valley Fascism And The War on Democracy”. Copyright 2026 by Gilbert Duran. Avid Reader Press, New York This is a frightening work 339 pages in length in which Duran maps the origin, philosophy and objectives of what is becoming the most powerful oligarchy in the history of the world. It is not a work for the feint of heart but should be required reading in every school curriculum.

August 29, 2026: Debacle at U.N, His Own Mind, International Embarrassment

 

Every year the President of the United States gives an address before the General Assembly of the United Nations as part of opening ceremony of each session. Disgustus hates the United Nations as does the political party he heads. The result is that the United Nations, a creature of American diplomacy, has been subjected of late to the annual harangues of a deranged madman, subjecting the assembled and, by extension, the world to the meanderings of a deeply troubled, mentally ill psychopath standing before them with a list of grievances real and imagined and much more imagined than real. This was expected. This is the grist of his usual stump speeches. You know it would be about him, it is always about him. He would stand before the delegations and claim he is the greatest president in American history; that his accomplishments, though meager or non-existent, are legendary. 'Everyone seated before him, indeed the entire world knows by now that tRUMP is a legend in his own mind.

But hardly anyone expected this.

Doctors John Gardner and Brandi Lee have led a host of psychiatrists and psychologists in pointing out what dementia and, particularly, frontal lobe dementia does to a patient. The deterioration of the frontal lobes destroys what little impulse control Disgustus ever had. Given his diagnosis of being a pronounced malignant narcissist, “the most serious form of mental illness” as cited by Dr. Gardner, this becomes very worrisome indeed. One of the characteristics of malignant narcissism is sadism and, as Gardner has repeatedly warned tRUMP now having the taste of blood, first with his bombing of Venezuelan fishing boats then with the bombing of school girls as the introduction to his ongoing conflict with Iran, has led to ever greater belligerency, ever greater protestations of his immense power comparing himself now to Alexander, Ghengis Khan, Hitler, Stalin and Napoleon. He has even begun construction of an “arc de Stench”, a monumental arch on the style of the one in Paris, dwarfing Napoleon's monument to his conquest of Egypt. Disgustus claims that he now controls America and now, like a colossus astride the planet, controls the world.

So now we find him in New York, our modern Caligula, declaring victory over Neptune, citing imaginary accomplishments, demanding that all kneel to his sword. He threatened Cuba with invasion as the Cuban delegation filed our of the hall; most alarmingly, he threatened the total annihilation of Iran telling the world that they wouldn't have a chance of survival and that there would be no rebuilding from the ashes.

Disgustus has become more that a national embarrassment; he has become more than an international embarrassment. Disgustus stood before the world, giving a deranged speech to the United Nations General Assembly, in which he revealed the extent of his mental illness. That this deranged maniac should be allowed an international platform is bad enough, but that he should be in control of one of the world's super powers poses a threat to this planet that we have never seen. Hitler, Stalin, Napoleon didn''t possess nuclear weapons, nor the long-range capabilities to deliver them. The Cuban Missile Crisis was negotiated by rational actors. There is nothing rational about an administration headed by a quixotic, deranged madman who, increasingly, cannot control his base impulses. The United States now finds itself headed by a man who should be either in prison or an insane asylum, clearly institutionalized. This should, and does, worry the entire world community which has increasingly moved to isolate our erstwhile Caesar and his maladministration hoping, against all odds, that the actuarial tables come upon him and a surprise visit by the grim reaper produces the much anticipated celebration of his long awaited obituary.

In the meantime, the world holds its collective breath.

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

Impeach, Convict, Imprison.

August 27, 2026: American Rot, A Prize Hog, Bloated Obscenity

  

“Behold. The festering carcass of American rot shoved into an ill-fitting suit: the sleaze of a conman, the cowardice of a draft dodger, the gluttony of a parasite, the racism of a Klansman, the sexism of a back-alley creep, the ignorance of a bar-stool drunk, and the greed of a hedge-fund ghoul — all spray-painted orange and paraded like a prize hog at a county fair. Not a president. Not even a man. Just the diseased distillation of everything this country swears it isn't but always has been — arrogance dressed up as exceptionalism, stupidity passed off as common sense, cruelty sold as toughness, greed exalted as ambition, and corruption worshipped like gospel. It is America's shadow made flesh, a rotting pumpkin idol proving that when a nation kneels before money, power, and spite, it doesn't just lose its soul — it shits out this bloated obscenity and calls it a leader.”

    ------Oliver Kornetzke

This sums up in one paragraph what these columns have judged, these last eleven years, this orange turd to be.  This should be his epitaph, carved upon the very garbage scow that finally tows his rotting carcass out to sea to be fed to the sharks and the bottom feeders.  

August 23, 2026 & September 10, 2026: Mid-Term 'Convention, More Pepperoni On It, Blatantly Illegal Act

 

Tom Monihan once owned the Detroit Tigers. The founder of Dominoes Pizza had become, by the late eighties, rich enough to buy the franchise from John Fetzer an aging local media mogul who began to sense that his time was up. Like any new ownership, Monihan came in with all the bluster about a new sheriff in town claiming, as they always do, that a new broom sweeps clean. Gone was Jim Campbell who, as general manager, had piloted the franchise to two World Championships, one in 1968 and one in 1984. Gone too was Ernie Harwell, the voice of the Tigers who had been broadcasting Tiger Baseball for what seemed like forever. Harwell, a native Georgian, held the distinction of being the only man in the booth to be acquired through trade. Early in his career he was traded by the Atlanta Crackers to the New York Giants in exchange for some minor league player and a player to be named later. There may have also been some cash involved. In any case he was on the radio broadcasting the game that featured the Thompson's 'shot-heard-round-the-world' as the Giants clinched the National League Pennant but isn't featured today because thinking radio the dominant media he eschewed the television broadcast now universally remembered. Harwell would never leave the radio booth.

But I digress.

Campbell and Harwell were gone, replaced by the University of Michigan's football coach Bo Schembeckler and a couple of young voices known for their faux excitement and ability to raise their voices up to the level of a prepubescent choir soprano. Gone too was any standard of baseball excellence. Bo may have known football, but he sucked at baseball and the Tigers soon found themselves declining in the standings, declining radio audiences and declining revenues. To make matters worse, if they could be worse, Monihan was found to have been raiding the team's revenues in order to prop up his other enterprises with The American League contemplating taking over the team until the franchise could be sold.

When asked what Monihan was about to do, one executive working for him replied under conditions of anonymity, “what you got to understand about my boss is that when confronted with any crisis his answer is always to put more pepperoni on it”.

This is the mentality of our very own Caesar Disgustus. To Wit: the answer to any crisis is More TRUMP. This leads us to the novel invention of the Mid-Term ReSCUMlickan Convention.

The quadrennial American Political Convention goes back to Andrew Jackson and soon adopted by the Whigs and then the Republicans. It features delegations chosen through party proceedings, such as state conventions or state caucus, or through primary elections. Party platforms are drawn up; speeches are given; the faithful are called to action. Everyone knew that this would be nothing more than a ceremony in glorification of the Supreme Leader. And, indeed it was. There were no real delegations. There was no platform. It was simply an orgy of faux enthusiasm tailored to deify the GREAT ONE. A place where the Maggots could gather and worship the GOLDEN SWINE.

The place chosen was Dallas, Texas. Dallas was selected in order to bolster the faltering campaign of one Ken Paxton, State Attorney General now candidate for the United States Senate. Disgustus had endorsed Paxton against Texas Senator Cornin because the incumbent Senator was insufferably 'independent'. The scandal-ridden Paxton, however, reeked so badly that he had been impeached by the overwhelmingly ReSCUMlickan Texas State Legislature, but narrowly acquitted by the Senate. Disgustus, still in possession of at least a minimal sense of smell, found immediate favor with Paxton who, recognizing the pungency, endorsed his candidacy. Paxton won the primary but has fallen behind his Democratic opponent in blood-red Texas.

The solution to this and the hiding that awaits the trip to the electoral 'woodshed' come November tRUMP deemed to be MORE tRUMP.

So, here we are.

It proved the disaster everyone knew it would be.

First there was the 'selection' process for participation. The event was not to be a gathering of chosen delegates, but instead one of elected officials, party big-whigs, and the monied class. Attendance required a minimum 25 thousand dollars in contribution for two tickets to this orgy of stupidity and incompetence. Ticket prices went up from there to well over a hundred thousand dollars for the 'privilege' of getting within reach of the Orange Turd himself, assuming one could stand the stench.

Forty percent of the ReSCUMlickan Congressional Caucus suddenly found more pressing matters on their agendas. One member of the House cited the need to tend his garden, another to spend more quality family time. One was said to be hiding in a closet, location unknown.

So here was Disgustus on the podium, both nights, before a half-filled auditorium, leading the assembled in a “Pledge of Allegiance” not to the Republic but to himself, “the greatest American President”, asking them to commit voter fraud if necessary to win this election. Then, he stunned the nation by promising five thousand dollars to every adult in the country if his party prevails in November; a blatantly illegal act.

Yeah, sure, Donald. We're still waiting on that tariff rebate check that you gave to the corporations. We're still waiting on the check you said you'd send when you cut off our ObamaCare subsidies.

We're still waiting on that DOGE dividend. We will believe you when Big Ed's check from Publisher's Clearinghouse arrives and clears the bank.

Dallas was an act of desperation by a desperate little man feeling his influence on the wane. It did nothing to stem the hemorrhage of political support. Disgustus, finding himself the most unpopular 'president' in the history of polling, with support now falling in some polls to the high twenties, is terrified of what comes next. He knows that the walls are closing in. His nights are filled with terror as he dreams of congressional investigations where every underling, every relative, every business associate, every record be it financial, medical or political will be requisitioned.

He is a cornered rat, and a cornered rat is dangerous.

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

Impeach, Convict, Imprison

August 12, 2026: No Credibility, Another Herbert Hoover, Can't Fix Stupid

 

“Our Caesar Disgustus stands before us like a jackass in a hail storm.”

----Quotations of Chairman Joe

The economic reports are troubling. The maladministration declares with a straight face that the unemployment rate is just north of 4 per cent. Four per cent has, historically, been understood as full employment. Yet it is now reported that over 108 million adult Americans are not working and that a mere 61 per cent of those of working age are currently employed. This, quite simply, does not add up.

Of course our Caesar Disgustus, nearly a year ago, terminated the head of the Bureau of Labor Statistics for reporting unemployment numbers unfavorable to his version of reality. This, clearly, puts any statistics generated by these malignant clowns under immediate suspicion As the Europeans and Iranians are beginning to understand, one cannot put any confidence in any assertions by these clowns. They have no credibility.

There is no longer any doubt that the nation is under economic stress. This is evidenced by high consumer prices and, clearly, high unemployment. In a word: Stagflation.

Stagflation. The labor report, released early this week showed that last month the economy shed 26,000 jobs with, no doubt,further downward revisions when the full results emerge. 250,000 have left the labor market altogether adding to the percentage of working adults not currently in the labor market. This is not indicative of a surfeit of wealth in your average household, but an index of the depression of the labor markets. Millions, it is evident, have given up.

Disgustus, for his part, is terrified that he will become another Herbert Hoover. This may well be his legacy but he will emerge from this national catastrophe with at least the legacy of Jimmy Carter. Like Carter, tRUMP finds himself held 'hostage' by the Iranians; Carter with the Hostage Crisis that plagued his final year in office, tRUMP now finds himself a hostage as Iran cuts the supply chain of critical resources threatening to keep the straight of Hormuz closed until his maladministration comes to a thankful end.  Like Carter this maladministration is plagued by stagflation. Unlike Carter, who inherited nearly a decade of stagflation from Nixon and Ford (likewise brought on by interruption of the oil supply due to support of Israel), Disgustus finds himself hamstrung by a foreign adventure of his own doing. And, if he persists in imposing his ignorance upon the scene, he will, at last, grab the mantle of Herbert Hoover and drive the nation and, indeed, the world into a world-wide depression.

As has been repeatedly pointed out in these columns, Disgustus has a history of making a pig's breakfast of everything he touches. Nothing escapes his stench. As commentator Rick Wilson has famously said “everything he touches dies”. Disaster shadows him like the stench announcing his arrivals and departures. All of this was and is predictable.

Disgustus famously declared that only he could “fix it”. You can't fix stupid. There is no fixing stupid.

Impeach and Imprison

August 9, 2026: Suspicious Activites, Criminal Organization, Disgustus Being Disgustus

 

Meidas Touch, the online podcast network, is reporting some serious news. Michael Popok has recently reported, citing court records in a case being litigated in Florida, that Capital One had, in 2021, canceled over 350 accounts of the tRUMP Organization because of suspicious activity.

Required by law to flag suspicious financial transactions, the bank cited possible money laundering and financing of terrorist groups as the reason for their actions. Let that sink in. Money laundering and financing of terrorist groups. The documents, produced online by Popok, who himself is an attorney practicing law in these jurisdictions, do not elaborate which individuals or which groups, at least not yet. Disgustus was given time to find other financial institutions to handle his finances and the action was, for unfathomable reasons, not made public. Clearly, this is the kind of information that would have been determinant in the 2024 election, and information that the public has every right to know.

The tRUMP Organization is already a duly adjudicated criminal organization, convicted of falsifying records, insurance and bank fraud, perhaps tax evasion. That the mainstream media, at this juncture, prefers to report on tRUMP's alleged addition of a wig or, perhaps, hair extensions, to that monstrosity sitting atop his head, tells us all we need to know about the nature of our media. Pure distraction in the face of pure criminality. Disgustus has always been the practitioner of tabloid journalism. He knows well the strategy of distraction. He has always counted on the press following the shining object, chasing the ambulances, seeking clicks, likes, and headlines. But the nature of journalism is changing as the likes of the bloggers and vloggers, those who have moved, like Don Lemon, Cenk Ugar, Joy Reid have moved from network broadcast news to YouTube and other platforms, joining a host of others from David Pakman, to the Young Turks, to Meidas Touch.

The case was brought by tRUMP as an act of retaliation for the imagined slight, Disgusts being, well, Disgustus, simply couldn't have gone elsewhere and moved on. Oh no!, not our Orange Turd. Instead he instituted a law suit, no doubt seeking damages. Then came the inevitable stage of discovery and all came to light. Disgustus has always been the author of his own undoing, his own failures, seeking his own destruction.

This case in Florida deserves, indeed demands, a thorough investigation and airing by all of our media. The tRUMP's and their nefarious financial dealings must be exposed, reported and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. As David Cay Johnston has repeatedly pointed out, Donald tRUMP is the head of the third of a four generation, soon no doubt to be a fifth generation, crime family. It is time to apply the RICO statutes which gives the greater society, that is the government, authority to seize all assets of any organization or individuals so engaged. Let's get on with it. It is time the tRUMPs, all of them, be returned to their natural station in life: greeters at Walmart, diggers of ditches, and the prostitutes that they are.

Impeach and Imprison.

August 8, 2026: Too Cute by Half, Stalwarts Strike Back, Awaits the Reckoning

 

Last night's primary election returns from ruby-red Tennessee may well have demonstrated that the Maggots have been too cute by half. Following the lead to Texas and other states ReSCUMlickans re-districted the state so as to cut Memphis in half and thereby reduce black, as well as Democratic, representation in Congress. The result is that one of the state's most ignorant ReSCUMlickan mouthpieces has been purged from the body.

Congressional ReSCUMlickan Andy Ogles, member of the Congressional “Freedom” (read “Slavery”) caucus was defeated 53-47 percent by former state Agricultural Commissioner Charlie Hatcher despite having the endorsement of our shitting “president”. This comes on the heels of another tRUMP endorsed sleazebag having lost to a “ghost” candidate in Michigan (see previous post), earlier this week. Former Tennessee Governor Bill Haslam and current Governor Bill Lee endorsed Hatcher.

So the stalwarts stike back, or perhaps the Maggots, writhing in pain, have finally discovered the fraud that is our Caesar Disgustus. Perhaps, given the news this week out of Tennessee and Michigan, the fever has begun to break and the nation is, at long last, returning to its senses. Only time, and the next election, will tell.

On other good news, U.S. Senator Marsha Blackburn, who along with Tommy Tupperware of Alabama, represents the absolute dregs of senatorial incompetency won her contest to become the ReSCUMlickan candidate for Governor, filling an open seat. The good news here is that, like Tupperware (who is widely understood to be the dumbest man now serving in this body), she will, as of January 1 of next year, no longer disgrace what was once, before the likes of her stunk up the place, the greatest deliberative body on earth.

Progress, of sorts, by increment.

Nevertheless, it has been a very bad week for our Caesar Disgustus, the Orange Turd. With is endorsements comes the stench, a smell that permeates the skin and will never, in their lifetimes, be fully removed. The nation recoils as well it should as the nation awaits the reckoning.

Impeach and Imprison

August 5, 2026: Establishment Comeuppance, Jaws of Victory, Stench of tRUMP

 

Last night was primary night in my old home state of Michigan. It was not a good night for the 'establishment'.

On the Democratic side, Abdul El-Sayed narrowly defeated congresswoman Haley Stevens despite being outspent in the contest by 11 to 1. Stevens not only reportedly raised and spent between 62 and 70 million dollars in this democratic PRIMARY contest, but had the endorsements of Governor Whitmer and most of the Democratic establishment, including Chuck Schumer and Congressman Jim Clyburn. With the passing of Jesse Jackson and Georgia Congressman John Lewis, Clyburn has become the voice of the black community. Clyburn, one may recall, is the idiot that rescued Biden from oblivion in the South Carolina Primary, ensuring that the 'establishment' would once again deny Bernie Sanders the 2020 presidential nomination.

Clyburn and the establishment got their comeuppance. El-Sayed, with Sanders' endorsement and following Sanders' 2016 strategy (1) squeaked out a narrow victory over the mossbacks by winning much of Western Michigan as well as Manistee, Traverse City and much of Michigan's Upper Penninsula. He won in Kalamazoo, Grand Rapids, but narrowly lost in Muskegon, Detroit, Saginaw and Flint. He, like Sanders, lost the I-75 corridor, but carried much of the rest of the state. He carried the college towns of Ann Arbor and East Lansing, Marquette, and Big Rapids. He won the countryside. Not bad for a man who had no name recognition only few months ago.

Yes, he was endorsed by Sanders and A.O.C. He earned the endorsement of the United Auto Workers, something not to be minimized here. But he took on the establishment. All the old pols, the mossbacks, and the Israeli lobby. AIPAC, American-Israeli Political Action Committee, is said to have spent north of 32 million dollars in this campaign in support of Haley Stevens. Roughly half of the money raised by her campaign, which, in the waning hours, became really ugly.

Alas, when the dust had cleared in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, Abdul stood standing. El-Sayed has proven to be a formidable political figure. Former captain of the University of Michigan football team, medical student and Rhodes Scholar he has campaigned against genocide in Gaza, called for an end to military aid for Israel, supports Medicare for all, organized labor, raising the minimum wage, unpacking the Supreme Court, and restoring the American working and middle classes. These are positions that resonate across the political spectrum like a sledge hammer hitting a tuning fork.

Stevens, for her part, ran a miserable campaign, begging the question: had the Democratic establishment backed Mallory McMorrow, would they had won? Never, ever, underestimate the ability of the Democratic Party to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

“in the morning they returned with

tears in their eyes

the stench of tRUMP drifts up to the skies

a young maggot so ill

looks at the Orange Turd

remembers the words

Thou Shall Not Kill”

----Parody of “Sky Pilot”, the Animals.

On the ReSCUMlickan side, in Michigan's 8^th Congressional District, an open seat vacated by the vanquished Haley Stevens, Amir Hassan was defeated by Thomas Smith 50% to 33% despite having

the endorsement of our Caesar Disgustus, the Orange Turd. Indeed, Smith had withdrawn from the race weeks earlier, endorsing Hassan, going so far as to don his campaign hat and make an ad saying Hassan was his preferred choice  Clearly the racist base of the ReSCUMlickan Party were having none of a candidate whose name sounded 'ferrin'. That and the stench of Caesar Disgustus purged Hassan of all but the most dedicated racists. However, as in tRUMP's early and brief endorsement of his Covid vaccine demonstrated, the maggot base will not tolerate being told to take its medicine or vote for someone whose name sounds foreign.

Caesar Disgustus, whose approval is now in the low 30's, has clearly become shopworn. As the stench of tRUMP lifts up to the skies, he slowly sinks into the swamp of his own making. Caesar Disgustus has reached the end of his tether.

“an' Br'er Putin, he jus' laugh and laugh”.

Impeach and Imprison.

______________

1. See https://wandererandshadow.blogspot.com/2016/04/april-7-2016-lessons-from-michigan.html

August 4, 2026: Tank Bottom, Prolonged Executive Stupidity, Demented Brain-Damaged Fool

 

Our Caesar Disgustus now finds himself caught like the proverbial jackass in a hailstorm. The middle eastern conflicts have left us not only bereft of munitions but nearing tank bottom.

He was warned about this. The joint chiefs told the dullard that we didn't have either the munitions nor the manpower for this conflict and that soon we would run out of ammunition and any ground invasion would require re-instituting the draft. And, lo and behold, five months into this campaign and we have laid waste our supply of patriot, Tomahawk and other missiles, with Disgustus openly staring down the prospect of ground invasion or, perhaps, nuclear weapons as a last resort.

He is also staring down the depletion of our oil reserves, now said to be the lowest since '83 with a mere 40 days supply. The oil reserves, created by Jimmy Carter to protect the national economy for just such an interruption of the supply chain, appears not to protect the economy from prolonged executive stupidity.

Disgustus knows he must get a resolution soon or face staggering inflation. He finds himself hamstrung between a genocidal madman hell bent on prolonging the conflict and a political base servile to Israeli aggrandizement and a looming economic catastrophe which will destroy not only the country's economic well-being but his political base.

There is no painless way out of this. The question is whether tRUMP will absorb the pain by admitting defeat or inflict the pain on the nation and the world. We know where this demented, brain-damaged, fool will 'lead' us.

Impeach and Imprison before it is too late.

August 1, 2026: A tough Stretch, No-Bid Contracts, Hemming and Hawing

 

It has been a tough stretch of our shitting 'president'. In the wake of the July 4 celebration disaster, Disgustus is now confronting the reality that the reflecting pool disaster was not the result of imagined vandalism, but resulting from his very own incompetence.

Entering a 'no-bid' contract with a personal favorite (by his own admission now, of course, being denied), the 'lining' of the pool has been determined to have been improperly applied and may, indeed, have been of inferior quality. There is no evidence of it being cut anywhere, much less as tRUMP has repeatedly claimed, a gash some 350 yards long. Disgustus loves to make things up.

That being the pretext, the feds arrested a former Olympian on charges of vandalizing the pool for having put his hand in the water, ostensibly to retrieve a small piece of lining floating near the service.

Jeanine Pirro, late of Faux News (the tRUMP administration employment agency), is now United States Attorney for the District of Columbia charged with bringing the prosecution. While at Fox she distinguished herself with her howling commentaries castigating DemocRATs (her emphasis) in nearly daily screeds aimed at agitating the knuckle-dragging audience into a near constant frenzy. Hence the audition for the favors of Caesar Disgustus and the ensuing appointment.

So this former 'judge', if you can imagine it, finds herself at the knife's edge of tRUMPs latest debacle, charged with prosecuting imaginary crimes in order to scapegoat anyone so as to protect tRUMP from any consequence. And, here we are.

But the case, of course, cannot stand the first rays of light. The Justice Department announced, after much hemming and hawing, that the case would be dropped.

It remains to be seen how much longer Pirro remains as United States Attorney for the District of Columbia. Just another Faux News talking head well out of her league serving a man who has no business anywhere near the White House.

Impeach and Imprison.

July 17, 2026: The Death of Miss Lindsey, Hypocritical and Outrageous, Good Riddance.

 

Lindsey Graham, the “Graham Cracker” is dead. Good Riddance, he will not be missed.

Graham, came to prominence in the late nineties as part of the crop of idiots around Newt Gingrich foreshadowing the Tea Baggers and the Maggots. His longevity in Congress being a testament to his degeneracy. Graham had, in the last decades, decayed into being a mere caricature of himself becoming, at last a mere sycophant, a mindless supplicant bordering on irrelevance. As the Rescumlickan Party slid into the depths of mendacity and depravity, Graham followed suit, marching in lock-step and keeping with the signs of the times. His was not a profile in courage.

In the wake of his death his sexual proclivities, always rumored, have come to light.   Graham, always devoid of courage and conscience, was prone to follow like a lost puppy any man he perceived as being strong, or least in the case of tRUMP bombastic and full of himself. He became a hopeless sycophant, an apologist for every outrage from defunding ObamaCare to his lick-spittle support of the genocidal maniac running the government in Jerusalem. Graham, in his way, became a virtual criterion of value. Always quick to rush to the defense of the most outrageous, nauseating and foul actions, be they appointments to the federal bench, cutting the social safety net, or supporting idiotic tariffs and outright genocide, there he would be screeching to high heaven in faux outrage.

While there was always something hypocritical and outrageous about him, he nevertheless proved a reliable servant to the forces of evil; a fulcrum from which the likes of Peter Thiel and the big-tech oligarchs could launch their assaults on the 'castle'.

You were in service of villains, Lindsey Graham. You were a villain yourself.

Good riddance. One can only hope that South Carolina makes a small step toward decency when they choose your replacement. You will not be missed.

July 5, 2026: Another National Disgrace, Legend In His Own Mind, Coup de Grace

 

Caesar Disgustus presiding over our national birthday is our national disgrace. For as long as he remains in the White House the stench over everything, be it sacred or profane, will permeate any proceeding. No observance is immune from the stench. Take Easter, for instance. Disgustus observed the occasion by taking to his Untruth Antisocial media platform threatening the destruction of the entire Iranian civilization. An idle threat, it transpired, but a predictably ugly manifestation of what occurs when a malignant narcissist does not get his way.

Now it's the annualnational holiday in observance of our Declaration of Independence. Our national birthday, as it were. That this turd should once again be master of ceremonies is bad enough, but we are now confronted with the celebration of our of existence with the pall of Disgustus hanging over every proceeding. Disgustus is the pole-cat lurking about every barn dance; but in the last ten years he has crashed the door on at least two occasions stinking up the place making every celebration,as he does virtually everything else, about himself.

He walks off with sports trophies while the teams that win them, incredulously, are left to look on. He whines about not winning the 'Noble” Peace Prize and cajoles the real winner to give up her medal and present it to him instead. He dreams of having his profile join the greats at Mount Rushmore. Most notably he had his name placed upon the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, making himself the arbiter of culture. He has destroyed the White House and dreams of a giant “Ark de Stench” transforming Washington into a monument to himself. He brazenly places himself among the greatest in the American Pantheon ignoring the consensus among historians and politicologists that he is among the worst; many, on the basis of his first maladministration, having declared him the absolute worst president in the history of the United States. He is a legend in his own mind.

His record of breathtaking incompetence is exceeded only by the stench that precedes his every arrival.

The national birthday celebrations are just the latest in a long litany of national embarrassments, be it any holiday observance, any meeting with a foreign leader or dignitary, any international conference or his annual fouling of the United Nations General Assembly. Everywhere he goes the stench precedes him as those gathered hold their noses as he speaks; for whatever he emits, be it from his ass or his mouth, is the same substance accompanied by the same foul odor. He feels no shame, no embarrassment, no self-awareness as he stands proud and grandiose, beshit before the world.

And his incompetence has proved as damaging as it is breathtaking. The imbroglio over the Reflecting Pool and his disastrous management of the great National Fair are simply the most recent demonstrations of his gross incompetence. Laying his hands on the Reflecting pool, located between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument, he awarded a no-bid contract to a 'friend' who allegedly did work on his swimming pools; disaster a foregone conclusion. Work, originally estimated to cost between 1.5 and 2 million dollars ended up costing between 13 and 16 million. Then, when the pool was re-filled an algae bloom appeared turning the water into a stinking cesspool. Further the 'lining' touted by tRUMP to be the best and most durable immediately began to buckle and come loose from the bottom floating uselessly in the water. Disgustus, of course, couldn't take responsibility. He never does. Instead he blamed vandals with box knives cutting long gashes in the bottom of the pool. No evidence was presented; none ever is.

Hell, I would have done it for half the price.

Then we have the Great National Fair. As part of the 250 year celebration of the Nation's founding, the National Fair was scheduled to take place somewhere in middle America. Oklahoma or Nebraska, perhaps Iowa. It was to be organized by the Smithsonian Institute and be a celebration of the American Experience. Money was appropriated by Congress to fund it. Then tRUMP came into office and immediately put his hands on it.

All the plans were abolished. Disgustus created a new body to manage affairs. The venue was moved to Washington D.C., to be held on the Washington Mall. Disgustus would refashion the occasion, as he does everything. The fairground was literally empty. The heat was insufferable and there was no air conditioning. One woman sought refuge in a booth run by a Jesus Junkie where one could be baptized. Seeking neither salvation nor ablution she took to the pool merely to find respite from the sweltering heat. The Mall was lined with booths in which 43 of the50 states were represented, a half dozen or so with enough sense of smell to steer clear. The result was less than lackluster. Maine, for instance presented the public with a booth featuring two chairs in front of a wall with the word “MAINE” emblazoned overhead. Michigan, a bit more daring, featured a plastic cow that the children were invited to “milk”. The public greeted this spectacle with a collective yawn.

“Faux News” did its best to put lipstick on this pig by broadcasting live from the fairgrounds with the hosts seated high above showing a panoramic view of the grounds as backdrop. Rabbiting endlessly about the massive crowds in attendance the viewer was repeatedly implored to not believe one's lying eyes as the empty grounds gave lie to what we were being told was transpiring on the field. Of the nearly two weeks of news clips, I remember seeing the Ferris Wheel move once.

The “Grand Finale”, the Coup de Grace, came as a speech by our shitting 'president' which turned out to be nothing more than a long rant about a long list of grievances real or imagined; and more imagined than real. The audience was sparse with many, as they have been wont to do of late, leaving as he railed on.

The national celebration became a national ordeal. Clearly the public, nauseated by the stench, has no stomach for Disgustus.

As an old projectionist I once worked with once put it: “Kid”, he opined, “they've stayed away in droves”.

Here Disgustus once again demonstrates, as if further demonstrations are ever needed, his breathtaking incompetence. Before the nation and the world Disgustus the Great cannot organize a two-car funeral.

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

Impeach, Convict, Imprison.