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Category: Politics

We're All in This, but Not Necessarily Together
Banning Muslims from entering our country is an intriguing idea, but I am forced to reject it. I say this not because such be a response would seem ignorant and panicky, but because it’s not ignorant and panicky enough.

For one thing, why stop with Muslims? I know next to nothing about Zoroastrianism, for instance, but what better reason do we need to ban its followers? As far as we know, they could be up to anything. Same goes for Babis, Bhaktis, and Bahais. Not to mention Boris, Behmenists, Badimos, and Bushongos. And then there are the Bathousists, Bimoists, Bezhuists, and Baltic polytheists. And that’s only one letter of the alphabet!

No, it’s just too risky, especially when you consider that every one of these religions must have at least one follower who has bad chemicals squirting through his brain and who might do something awful using his religion as a justification. The world is positively teeming with homicidal nutjobs, and we have to protect ourselves somehow.

The ban will also have to include Christians, I’m afraid, as well as atheists and agnostics. Bottom line, if they’re foreigners, they’re potential terrorists. Sure, we could build a wall, but wouldn’t an impenetrable dome would make more sense?

And while we’re at it, we need to get rid of a lot of the people who are already here, even if they’re full-fledged citizens. Funny accents are a tip-off, as are unpronounceable names. Anybody who looks kind of squirrelly should go, as should people wearing inappropriate expressions on their faces. No one can be trusted.

I suppose we could take the position that, in a democracy, we shouldn’t give into the temptation to act in the same way that a tyrant would. We could accept the fact that our responses to threats must come within the rules we have set for ourselves. We could recognize that simple answers are not available to us if we want to keep this system. We could admit that it takes hard work and careful thought to settle on a righteous course of action in a free society.

But screw that. Why not just go with ignorant and panicky?
Okay, I’ll admit it. I was hoping for 1236 — hoping that, on the first ballot in Cleveland, Donald Trump would end up one vote short of the number needed for nomination. It now looks like that won’t happen.

I wanted the full backstabbing, frontstabbing, smoke-filled circus, and 1236 would have gotten us there. I was willing to spend psychic energy by actively rooting for that outcome. If it had happened, I know that my karma would have been entangled in the ghastly spectacle, and I no doubt would have paid a steep price for it in my next incarnation.

But I would have been content to spend a full lifetime as a tapeworm inside the colon of Newt Gingrich — as long as I could witness such an event. But it is not to be. Trump is the presumptive nominee.

May the Cosmic Oneness have mercy on us all.
I Am So Done
That’s it
I have had it
I’m done with this crap
This campaign’s a diet
Of meaningless pap

So no more projections
Of likely scenarios
Not ones that delight
Nor ones that are scarey-o

No drilling down
Deep into the numbers
Or interpreting them
For those who are dumbers

There will be no musings
‘Bout what’s rousing the rabble
No pithy insights
Or lame psychobabble

No, I’m tired of bullshit
I’m weary of phonies
Of counterfeit outrage
And all brands of baloneys

That said, I must tell you
(Though you could have predicted)
I’ll be back next week
(I guess I’m addicted)
Him Again
If you’ve got stock in Donald Trump, this might a good time to sell it.

One theory about his run for the presidency suggests that, one way or the other, it will help his relentless push toward ever-more-indelible branding. Any fame is good, it is thought, as long as they spell your name right. Adolph Hitler, I suppose, might have a different view.

Trump may not have sunk that low, but his only remaining market seems to be low-income bigots. Are they going to feast on Trump steaks and stay at his tasteless glitz palaces? Perhaps on a Groupon, but I can’t believe they’d be welcome there. Furthermore, his brand has been smeared like used toilet paper with the KKK and permeated with the stench of hatred. Add to that the fumes of cluelessness now coming off the golden boy in great billows, and you have a brand destined for the septic tank of public opinion. That image will not sell even the glitziest of his eponymous crap to ordinary people.

If you are fortunate enough not to own stock in the Donald, but have rather accumulated a great reservoir of potential schadenfreude for him, then your moment of release may well be at hand.

Of course, he has been written off before, including by me, but this time we have better data. His nuclear bravado, along with his talk about punishing women, have alienated large blocks of the electorate. Everyone, that is, except his base…who also happen to be the base of the Republican Party. He might still win the Republican nomination, but if he does, he will be a dead man walking. He would be, in the words of the New York Times, a zombie candidate — seemingly alive, but dead, dead, dead in a general election.

Or he might not get the nomination. The Rs would have to “steal” it from him in order for that to happen. Couple such a sleight with his ego and with the taste of power he has already had, and you would have another breed of zombie. Trump would be abroad on the campaign trail and looking to eat the brains of his Republican enemies.

So sell that stock, because either way, he’s a loser. He might even turn out to be the biggest loser in American presidential history. And when he is done with this whatever-it-is campaign, all he’ll have left are a confederacy of ignorant misanthropes who can’t afford his products. Open the floodgates, and let the schadenfreude flow.

(As a hedge against the unforeseeable, this column recommends a small investment in Ted Cruz. He would be an execrable candidate, to be sure, but he still has a possible path to the White House.)
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No "new normal" for me, this shit ain't normal.
~ MS, Truckee