Confronting a Clown in Cleveland
Somehow this headline isn't about the Browns!
This year has been the worst one of my life since 1986, that fateful year my parents decided what America really needed was another white man without a college degree.
Sunday was unequivocally the best day of 2020, which is saying something considering I spent five days in the bucolic socialist empire of Costa Rica that is capable of building sheltered bus stops for its people.
Alcoholic drinks. Friends. A wickedly smart and beautiful woman that has seen the abject horror that is my pink penis and didn’t run the other way. Deep-fried food. The Almighty Browns stomping their enemies into oblivion. It was truly the stuff that movies are made of. Or at least enough for me to forget that my soul is chained to the failing American empire in the grip of a deadly pandemic that has slain 200,000+ of my countrymen.
Next thing I know, it’s Monday and I failed to write The Rooster. Also that infamous billionaire Donald Trump has been exposed for using perfectly legal measures to pay less in taxes than I do.
I should have written a dispatch from my bed. Instead I decided to run that play again because after all I only have eight more shifts left as a bartender to blame my day job for my runaway alcoholism.
The problem is now I’m moderately more sober and I’m suddenly remembering the shackles around my soul.
In one corner, we have the insane game show host who was definitely the first president to snort a line of Adderall in the Oval Office. In the other corner we have West Wing watchers who have digested so much domestic propaganda that they think it’s revolutionary to participate in a system designed by wealthy white enslavers whose minds were riddled with untreated sexually transmitted diseases they didn’t even know existed in the first place.
These freaks must not be aware that people voted for David Cameron, the Kentucky Attorney General who undoubtedly presented selective evidence to the grand jury that acquitted the three cops that murdered Breonna Taylor in her own apartment.
Make no mistake, I vote. It’s the only option other than lone-wolf bombing or tweeting that I have in railing against the cabal of lizard people that have condemned my generation to die in an inequitable climate inferno.
But to delude myself into thinking it’s a revolutionary act or that voting for a senile corporatist like Joe Biden will alleviate all of society’s problems — well, I know that’s what the other side of the ruling class wants me to think.
As my long-time readers may recall, my girlfriend (and likely KGB sleeper agent) strong-armed me into letting her edit my articles. This seemed like a good idea until she took more than 10 minutes to read one, which I didn’t think was possible until I learned she had arcane knowledge acquired in private school about such things like “parallelism” and “subject-verb agreement.”
My erratic lifestyle and her high-stress downtown job haven’t yet aligned my writing window with her sleep schedule. I’m sure it’s evident to anyone paying attention when my columns have been vetted by a Soviet spy and when they’re not.
Today is one of those latter days; however, my interns are in the lab as we speak devising a simple graphic to declare that my articles have been in fact read by a functioning adult. This way you will at least have the peace of mind to know that the ramblings produced by my diseased mind comport with the rules declared by some dead English king and that you nerds continue to observe in 2020 for reasons that will forever escape me.
I FEEL BAD FOR OUR COUNTRY BUT THIS IS TREMENDOUS CONTENT
There is a meme that I wanted to use in place of the comical right-wing one you see above. It involves a series of mugshots of a white male who clearly descended into the throes of drug addiction that Americans find humorous as long as they don’t know anyone who went down a similar path.
Anyway the first one starts with a normal looking dude and the caption is, “Believing Obama was about hope and change in 2008.” The last one ends with some unrecognizable freak with face tattoos. The caption is, “Being asked to vote for Joe Biden in 2020.”
The mugshot guy and I will be similar in that we will both likely be high on meth come November 4th. The only difference is the tattoos on my face will be clown paint.
I remember seeing “Any Functional Adult 2020” signs. The Democrats couldn’t even clear that hurdle. Joe Biden was thrust upon us because the Democratic donor class decided they would rather eat rat poison than nominate a moderate albeit cantankerous moderate socialist from the 1960s. (In moments of despair I remind myself it could be worse, that ratfuck Mayo Cheat could be the nominee.)
And thanks to a majority of American voters being unable to grasp that we are already living in a failed nation-state, Biden is head-and-shoulders above his demented competition that tweeted while his corporate cronies looted the American government. (His voters reserve their anger for true crimes like a couple windows at CVS being broken during an otherwise peaceful protest.)
Tonight these two doddering corporatists will clash in Cleveland, a city I’m starting to think has a masochistic streak.
Put that tweet on America’s tombstone. I know that business-brained freak Darren Rovell tweeted it four years ago next month but it applies to tonight.
Donald Trump’s campaign has spent the last four months attacking Joe Biden as a senile rapist who is incapable of forming a complete sentence. Veracity of that take aside, it has effectively put Joe Biden into the George W. Bush Debate Zone.
I remember being young dumb and liberal and thinking Al Gore would put a lance through W's toxic heart. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. All that was remembered is W kept all his drool in his mouth and that was quickly presented as a victory in its own right. And we all know what happened next: 9-11.
All Biden has to do tonight is not lose his train of thought in the middle of the most important debate in his life. That’s it! That’s all he has to do as long as he manages not to fall asleep between questions.
I’m watching the debate tonight not because I’m narcissistic enough to believe I’m an “undecided voter” at this stage of the game or that I think Biden is a particularly inspiring candidate. I’m watching because Donald Trump exists in a world where he is never challenged by anyone, and that was true before he became the most powerful person in the world.
Debates inherently favor shameless liars, which explains why that dumb short stooge Ben Shapiro is always trying to frame his desire to see Alexendria Ocassio-Cortez naked as “wanting to debate her.”
There is nobody better at being a shameless liar than Trump.
Hillary Clinton acted like she was above getting in the mud and wrestling with the pig, which is why she lost. Trump threatened to imprison her and she just took it. That might work for West Wing voters. But it makes cataclysmic error of thinking America didn’t abandon the moral high road long, long ago (or that it ever took that road to begin with).
We are a hog people, and we were that way before a pandemic that economically crippled us. We want to see our powerful pigs wrestling in shit, and by God, Biden better act right and give it to us.
Trump is a criminal grifter who lives in a golden apartment in NYC. His wife is what the Republican Party would refer to as an “illegal alien.” His family has enriched themselves using the presidential seal. He pays less than every working American in taxes and will owe $450 million in loans during his second term in office. His incompetence will cost at least 300,000 Americans their lives.
Dispelling the populist mirage of Trump should be a slam dunk for Biden. And watching old clips of Biden wanting to imprison rave organizers, it’s clear that he once had the mental acuity for the job.
Now? I’m not so sure, which is why I’ll be watching at 9 p.m. ET tonight. Like all Americans, I have a perverted sexual desire to consume #content in any and all forms.
God help us all.