Republicans

I grow weary of your politics. I’ve seen the Caesars, the Medicis, the popes and anti-popes, the Tzars, and the Kaisers. Each was obnoxious in their own way, but they can’t hold a candle to your Republican Party.

I won’t touch on January 6 or the “Big Steal” or the perpetual recounts of the 2020 ballots. All you need to prove GOP incompetence is Marjorie Taylor Greene.

Five days ago she compared people wearing masks to prevent the spread of COVID to the Jews being forced to wear a yellow star in Nazi Germany. A yellow star is what the Jews got before kristallnacht when the Nazis destroyed their synagogues and homes. A yellow star was a one-way ticket to a death camp.

Ms Greene even got that wrong, calling it a gold star. A gold star is what a kindergartner gets for encouragement. A yellow star is a death warrant to wear in public.

Needless to say, people were outraged at her comparison, and rightfully so. Well, most people. The leaders of the Republican party needed five days to decide if it was a bad thing. Are they that dense or did someone have to check with trump before they knew how they should react?

Pathetic.

Fortunately, the problem is going away. If your constituents are mainly old white guys and rural white guys without a college education, your base is is not growing. It is shrinking even as I write this.

Teddie (Cruz) and Me

Ted Cruz and I share many traits.

I was known for such crude behavior as urinating on the feet of those who disagreed with me (and much, much worse). I lived in a sewer (some claim it was a large piece of pottery–bull! One sniff would have set them straight). The least obnoxious of my habits was walking around in the daylight with a lighted lamp, “Looking for an honest man.” I never did find one, so I gave up.

Neither Ted nor I served in the military. I didn’t serve because: a) I was dead, and b) they would have had no interest in a flaming asshole such as me. Ted didn’t serve because he was another pampered, entitled rich kid who was working on becoming another old, white, rich male. He didn’t even have to play the flaming asshole card.

I have to admire Ted’s chutzpah. His father was an immigrant yet he hates immigrants. To further sweeten the picture, Ted was born in Canada. If his father had emigrated from any other country but Cuba, the paperwork wouldn’t have gone through, Dad wouldn’t yet be a citizen, and therefore, neither was Ted. Ah, the Fates.

Now, after avoiding military service, Ted has no respect for the US military. He thinks that the Russian military is better because their recruiting ads feature strong, virile, males (“Hello, Sailor!” Hey, Ted, maybe the donald can get uncle Vladimir fix you up on a date.)

But I still admire Ted. He embodies the key virtue of “When the going gets tough, the old, rich white guys go on vacation.”

Mansions Made of Ticky-Tacky

Malvena Reynolds wrote a song called Little Boxes [link]. Mr. trump does not live in a little house, mind you, but I have to wonder.

I know someone who bought a house once. The house was white, but the trim, windows, etc. were purple. Repainting the house was a priority. I know if the whole house was purple (or pink) it would be even a higher priority.

I have to wonder–does Mr. trump just have a thing for tacky? Does he secretly wish that there were multi-million dollar double-wide house trailers? It would explain many, many things.

Good Old Donnie Trump

It’s just awesome that donnie has a stage with a band and a separate microphone so he can wax poetic every night at Mar-A-Loco. I’ve seen some of his performances, and I suggest that he use more of a Rodney Dangerfield style.

  • I get no respect. I run a perfect campaign. I make perfect speeches. I launch a perfect assault on the Capitol Building and they let Biden steal the election, just because he got more electoral votes.
  • Look at me, if I keep growing, pretty soon I’ll grow into these neckties of mine. Now if I could only fix my Leaning Tower of Too Many Pizzas posture.
  • Take my wife, please. Oh, you already did?
  • I’m a stable genius. It’s true. Compared to any of the horses in the stable, I’m a genius.
  • I don’t cheat at golf. Didn’t they teach you about imaginary numbers in math class?
  • What about those Democrats? I could tell them that I’m the Pope and they wouldn’t believe me.
  • You’ve been a great audience! Don’t forget to tip your waiter and sign a recurring pledge for a cash donation to me.