What Happened: The Damaged “Clinton Brand”?

I’ve just begun reading What Happened by Hillary Rodham Clinton (HRC)… Herstory relating her successful failure, ’16 presidential campaign (i.e., her popular vote victory / Electoral College defeat). Although I’m only on page 124, I don’t deem it premature to pay her (perhaps) the highest compliment any author can ever receive… she’s written a page turner.

I don’t believe it too soon, either, to offer my own theory re what happened…

Ms. Rodham’s defeat, in part, had been due to that godforsaken Clinton moniker. The infidelity of her hubby… William Jefferson Clinton (WJC)… had utterly, irreparably damaged (to put this in political parlance) “The Clinton Brand”… BOTH his and hers. In a fair and just world, no woman should ever be judged based upon a spouse’s deplorable acts. But… regrettably… use of words like “fair” and “just” rarely apply, here.

SIDEBAR: Maybe if the #MeToo Movement existed back in that Nineties era, the outrage and outcry of courageous women could’ve succeeded where the more official, congressional impeachment efforts had failed… i.e., might #MeToo have booted Billy Boy out of office?

Now… to be fair… it is plausible that in all of these intervening years, WJC may’ve mended his cheating ways and learned to show his wife the respect she deserves… BUT… since their Republican foes were (still are) “elephants” who never forget, that means, on Election Day ’16, that damaged “Clinton Brand” had dragged her down.

Which leaves us with the $64 Million question…

Why were/are Donald Trump’s supporters so forgiving of his vulgarly stated admissions of sexually abusing / assaulting women… as revealed on that infamous Access Hollywood ClipYET, so merciless in condemning HRC because of her cheating husband? Beats me! You’d have to ask them to explain themselves… their flagrant hypocrisy.

So… that’s what was. As for what could’ve been…

A woman not need be dependent on any man to define who she is. Oh sure… WJC’s presence and presidency did fast track her arrival upon the national / international stage… BUT… there’s no denying that a woman of her superb intellect, unparalleled qualifications, strength of character and levelheaded demeanor could’ve become a Senator, Secretary of State, POTUS… maybe much more… all on her own… and in all likelihood… decades earlier.

 

 

 

Will Don Don Duds’ Duds? (One Quick Limerick #041)

 

Towards white supremacy, Don doth aspire,
His Klansman / Nazi base feels stoked, afire,
To coddle both sets of buds,
He’ll model both sets of duds?
‘Neath Don’s White Sheets he’ll don Brownshirt attire?

 

The so-called prez has a deplorable history of pandering to his hate mongering alt-right / white nationalist / Klansman / Nazi base. Even in the wake of the Charlottesville, Virginia bloodshed… vehicular manslaughter… where one of his goon pals deliberately plowed into a crowd of anti-racism protestors… murdering one woman and maiming dozens more… the soft on domestic terrorism, fake prez still categorized the sociopathic, bloodthirsty, deplorable alt-right vermin as “fine people”.

Ergo, it’d not be much of a stretch to consider the following (fortunately hypothetical) alternate timelines…

Had Donald Trump been “prez” during WW-II he would’ve been in bed with Adolf Hitler… had he been “prez” at a time leading up to America’s Civil War, he’d have sided with the vile slave owners… perhaps pissing off the northern states to the point of seceding from the United States.

 

Related Reading:

Article #1

Article #2

 

FYI… you can access archived limericks, poems, and lyrical parodies by clicking onto my poetry category.

If you’ve found this post worthy, don’t forget to like, follow, share and comment… click onto this blog’s headline to access the “LIKE Button” and “Comment Box”.

 

 

 

Will Past Performance Predict Future Results?

 

North Korea warming up to Washington? Kim Jong Un and Donald Trump favoring words over weapons? Both combatants sheathing their nuclear sabers and, instead, sitting down at the negotiating table?

While we, the shrewd, sane and peaceable people of our world, should savor this momentary respite in world tensions, we must also remain realistic.

Never forget we are talking about the same Trump, who royally PO’d Mexico’s President Enrique Peña Nieto during a telephone chat… so much so that the angered Nieto cancelled their scheduled face to face meeting. The bone of contention had been Trump’s boondoggle border wall… Donny’s totally bizarre insistence that Mexico must completely foot the bill for its construction.

True, “past performance does not necessarily predict future results”. However it would be totally within character for capricious, delusional DT to firmly grasp at any North Korean extended olive branch…

And then promptly use it to conk KJU over the head!

 

The Undotted Infinitesimal “i” and Uncrossed Teensy “t”?

 

It almost seems like just yesterday that I was a high school senior, settling back into the normal classroom routine following the Christmas break. That’s when just prior to my physics instructor beginning his lecture, he took me aside to inform me of my summons to the assistant principal’s office. The incredulity in his voice was both palpable and justifiable since I’d never given anyone any reason to peg me as a troublemaker.

At that point, my only option was to close my books, make my exit and walk “the final mile” through the now deserted hallways. Peering into the countless classrooms I was passing by, my mind flooded with envy. Why? Well, unlike my classmates, I was being denied my education.

My clear conscience notwithstanding, I was also keenly aware that that assistant principal… let’s refer to him by his initials, CC… was a school rulebook hard-liner. Which raised the big question…

Just which of HIS infinitesimal “i’s” had I undotted and which of HIS teensy “t’s” had I uncrossed?

Upon my arrival, I counted myself amongst the approximately one dozen students… all male… all standing in a semicircle before our judge, jury and executioner. That morning, the bug up CC’s ass turned out to be our long hairstyles, which were in direct violation of the school’s oppressive, grooming code. To paraphrase “Da Man’s” gruff, grunted out ultimatum to each of us… Either get a haircut or get the Hell out… and stay out!

From my side of “The Bench”, His Dishonor’s edict flipped off strict Federal and State statutes which, btw, explicitly state that attendance is MANDATORY for all school aged kids.

Well, the next morning, thanks to Mom’s barbering skills, I wound up passing CC’s inspection. He next handed me a re-admittance form. This required signatures from all six of my teachers… their acknowledgement that they were required to “award” me Fs for all incomplete assignments and/or missed tests.

Admittedly, how two of those six handled this signing “ceremony” certainly turned out to be priceless.

My cool physics teacher, Mr. S (who, btw, sported a much longer hairstyle than what I’d been expelled for) just glumly shook his head side to side while delivering his tongue-in-cheek “tsk tsks”. In guarded, hushed, more serious tones, he expressed both his disbelief and outrage that such a good student could’ve ever been treated so shoddily. When I lamented over how the previous school day’s “Fs” would mess up my GPA, with a conspiratorial smirk Mr. S informed me that I hadn’t gotten any Fs from him. He had had my classmates spend the entire hour quietly reading the next chapter in our textbook. He had also set up a chess board in his office where he had matched wits with anyone who had already read ahead.

My not-so-cool English teacher, Ms. D couldn’t wait for her golden opportunity to gleefully and publicly humiliate any of her students… especially longhaired “hippies”. Yep, I hadn’t even made it halfway to my assigned desk, when, with her stern “So-where-do-you-think-you’re-going-mister” glower… she goose-stepped over to block my path. Had I not first waived CC’s form before her very eyes, that gestapo officer-in-training could’ve easily snarled, “Papers Please!”

It wasn’t until the next day that several of my fellow, readmitted exiles told me how, on the very day of our suspension, our town’s barber had “conveniently” kept his clip joint open for biz well past his regular 5 p.m. closing time. Ah yes… corrupt, small town politics had apparently, heavily influenced CC’s ruling. You see, that barber also moonlighted as one of our school board members… and likely also moonlighted as an author whose self-serving, potentially wallet fattening verbiage had mutated much of our school’s grooming code.

The good news here… mere days later, Judge Damon Keith had ruled to strike down our school’s grooming code. You see, a fellow longhaired student (and friend of mine) had also recently faced down a similar expulsion. But, instead of knuckling under to CC’s BS, his parents… with an assist from the American Civil Liberties Union… had successfully argued that our entire school board and administrative staff did not have the legal right to deny an education to their son or anyone else.

On the upside… from that day forward, I regrew my hair until it reached waist length. And even on the occasions where I’ve opted for substantially shorter “dos”, I’ve always made damned sure my style would, in some way, remain in violation of CC’s code. Why? Just because that’s what freedom is all about. It also feels so good to get the last laugh. And, ever since my retirement, I’ve been free to maintain my mane in all of its lengthy splendor.

On the flipside… my long hair has flipped folks out in varying degrees. Must I point out the obvious… namely that the Y chromosome does permit such hair growth? Just who, beyond that local barber from out of my past, felt they had the right to countermand nature and restrict any man’s individuality? Why the hell should my personal grooming choices ever open me up to profiling… e.g…

  • One man, who couldn’t contain his intolerance, called me a “GD hippie!” Had he been packing heat, he’d have likely blown me away!
  • In an era where customer service within brick and mortar establishments is nearly non-existent, I’ve experienced retail managers and salesclerks first swooping down upon me like buzzards and next shadowing me. I’m almost tempted to (truthfully) claim, “Hey, buzz off! I’m not now… nor have I ever been… nor will I ever be a shoplifter”… but such reassurances would only make them more suspicious.
  • I recently dealt with an Urgent Care physician who, while removing three stitches from my thumb, asked me if I was a musician. True, I do play piano. But, mercifully, I choose not to do so before a captive audience.
  • This past summer, while seated on a park bench, a man mistook me for a homeless person and actually offered me money. Since I’m still solvent I rejected his donation, commended him for his attempt to extend a helping hand, encouraged him to remain philanthropic… BUT… in the same breath… offered my friendly reminder, “Don’t be too quick to judge the book by its cover”.

This would also be a good time to offer up yet another friendly reminder. It’s just as easy for folks to misjudge a well groomed person to be electable. Throughout human history, this has resulted in grotesquely, corrupt regimes headed by the well coiffed, fashionista fascists… such as Bashar al-Assad, Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump.

Of course some might point out how Donny’s “do” does appear a bit unkempt. Hmm… maybe we could coax CC out of retirement to expel him?

 

BlogCast: Tom’s Top 20 Countdown “2” Christmas: Song 1

 

Five Decembers ago on the 14th… I first learned of the Newtown, Connecticut, Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre. My heart immediately sank. I could only imagine the ghastly horrors experienced by the traumatized student body and staff… how they were forced to endure watching a mentally disturbed individual so callously and casually blow away 20 young children and 6 educators.

My thoughts then turned to the grieving survivors…of how the families and friends of these victims would be undergoing a mourning process, made even more unbearable because of the close proximity of Christmas… a holiday that is all about families and friends.

In the days to follow, with the crime scene tape still fluttering in death’s icy wind, I naively thought…

Newtown has got to be the very tragedy that’s sure to trigger an open, honest discussion about gun control… one, which will break down that wildly partisan, stone-hearted, stone-headed Republican stonewall. What Republican would not FIRST see this as America’s wake-up call and NEXT be as publicly and visibly moved… perhaps even to the point of fighting back their own tears… the same way President Barack Obama had had to do.

Death is tough enough to accept but that gets compounded a zillionfold when we consider how 20 of the victims were innocent school kids… children who had not yet lived long enough to have seen more than 6 or 7 lit candles on their birthday cakes… how they’d been denied all the good things life has to offer… growing up, discovering their innate talents, joining our workaday world, falling in love, marrying and watching their own kids growing up.

This Christmas morn, I dusted off my family photo album to leaf through its old-school, black construction paper pages… to fondly reminisce over two Christmases past… the very years when I, too, had been age 6 and 7. Yep, there was my all-caught-up-in-the-holiday-spirit, younger self… my ear to ear grins, eyes wide with wonderment. Yeah… those had been the cherished Christmas mornings that, within my memory, have lasted all my life. I could feel my present day face recreating those same smiles… but not for long.

My thoughts now turn to this morning… to Newtown’s surviving, still mourning parents… of how their own photo albums have wound up with missing of photos, empty black pages… and will continue to do so.

December 14, 2017 came and went without so much as even one whisper of the Sandy Hook massacre by the new, so-called prez. To these survivors he would not even be deadpanning or Tweeting one of his patent pending, insincere, robotic, braindead, “You are in our thoughts and prayers.”

Far worse… well… let’s now quote Nicole Hockley, whose 6-year-old son, Dylan, died at Sandy Hook Elementary School. From her Facebook post, which went viral… she justifiably lambastes Donald Trump…

 

“Not only did he ignore the five-year remembrance completely ― not even a single tweet ― he slapped us all in the face by having none other than NRA President Wayne LaPierre at his White House Christmas party that night. The appalling lack of humanity and decency has not gone unnoticed. While they ignorantly partied and remained uninformed on an issue that kills thousands of Americans every year, I was crying myself to sleep. While they got the chance to kiss their children goodnight, I kissed the urn holding my beautiful boy’s ashes.”

 

To be sure, the alleged prez has no need to fight off tears… for he has none to fight. True, his handler, White House press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders would likely spin this with her snotty, smarmy and sycophantic, Geeze what the hell is the big deal? What do ya want… blood? After all, this shooting incident did occur five long years ago.

To any such bullcrap, I’d counter…

 

“Oh yeah? Then how come I saw my eyes welling up this morning?”

 

During this new DC regime’s first year, we’ve seen even more massacres… to name two… Las Vegas and Texas… the latter one involving a church… A CHURCH FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! Yet, even mass murder’s blood stained, stained glass locales have yet to trigger that sorely needed, open, honest discussion about gun control… have failed to prod the infantile minded powers-that-be to take even the first baby steps towards keeping guns out of the hands of mentally unstable people… to cure American society of its gun sickness.

I realize my tough talk may’ve bummed some folks out this holiday morn. But… long sigh… any momentary depression I may’ve caused you would pale in comparison to the lifetime of grief and sorrow which the Sandy Hook massacre survivors will be forced to endure. If there are any doubters amongst my readers, just scroll up to re-read Nicole Hockley’s eloquently stated, spot-on words.

We must never forget there are countless survivors of countless other mass shootings, too. And what about those shootings that fly under the media radar because of what? Too few deaths? As if what? One person dying isn’t enough to warrant coverage? Folks, the day society becomes jaded to the point where every such death does not move us… well… long sigh… that is the death of said, sad society.

Getting back to the music… I fully and freely admit that my featured Top 20 Countdown “2” Christmas Song #1, Christmas In Heaven, is not the feel good music that will paint smiles on the faces of decent folks… but until indecent, NRA propped up politicians are cured of their sociopathy, corruption, avarice, lust for power and gun sickness… we really don’t have much to smile about… now do we?

 

Read related article HERE

 

Did Gwen Ifill Die Of A Broken Heart?

American Peabody Award winning journalist, newscaster and political analyst Gwen Ifill died at age 61 on 11/14/2016… her too brief life and career cut short by Cancer. TV viewers, who frequent PBS, will forever, fondly remember and admire her for both the off and on-the-air contributions she made to society.

As an African-American woman, she had been a trailblazer for and champion of racial and gender equality. As a consummate professional, her impressive résumé included being the moderator / managing editor of Washington Week in Review and co-anchor / managing editor of the PBS News Hour. In both capacities she was and will forever be a role model and inspiration to girls and women of all ages.

Even news watchers, who habitually turn elsewhere to less reliable sources for their “information”, will still likely have strong recollections of Ifill’s topnotch work as debate moderator during the 2004 and 2008 presidential campaigns.

With an ailment as grave and unpredictable as Cancer, we can only conjecture about its ups and downs… what ushers it into remission… what triggers it to rage out of control.

But, I truly believe, with all my heart, that Ifill’s sudden and far too soon demise is attributable to the horrific outcome of last week’s presidential election… the defeat of Clinton… Hillary’s loss to a misogynist and racist… his campaign, itself, having set back, by centuries, what little progress women and racial minorities have achieved, to date. It’s a certainty that Ifill had known fully well how, once that knuckle-dragging Neanderthal takes the oath of office, he’ll promptly bomb civilized society all the way back to the Stone Age.

In short, although her death certificate lists Cancer as the official cause, Gwen Ifill actually died of a broken heart.

I’ve witnessed, first hand, this phenomenon before. Back in 2003, it involved my own 89-year-old mother, who, to say the least, had been devastated and demoralized by the outcome of the 2000 presidential election… i.e., how George W. Bush and five corrupt, archconservative, bastard SCOTUS “judges” had colluded to deny Al Gore his legal right to a recount of the ballots in Florida… how their screwing over Gore had given birth to W’s illegitimate presidency.

My Mom’s deep depression had only worsened after W, the bungling incompetent, had gotten caught with his Commander-In-Chief pants down on 9/11, AND, in the post apocalyptic aftermath, when his too little / too late preserving, protecting and defending of America caused him to overreact… to strip all Americans of their Constitutionally guaranteed freedoms.

In short, although her death certificate lists old age as the official cause, my Mom actually died of a broken heart.

Seeing how we liberals, at present, are sinking into the depths of our own post Election Day funk, we can only speculate on how much this is all shortening our own lifespans. Of course… all in all… that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Come Inauguration Day, when that tyrant begins his reign of terror, We the People, who oppose him, can take some solace in knowing that his depressing us to death… well… this could be our early ticket out.

For us, serving in Heaven (or even winding up in oblivion) would have to be infinitely preferable to watching him ruling in the Hell of his own making… than our being forced to exist within his Hell on Earth.

We’d also be able to rejoice in knowing that, once in Heaven / oblivion, we’d never be forced to cross paths with the likes of him again.

R.I.P. Gwen Ifill… at least there can be peace for you.

Violence is NOT the Answer

 

Donald Trump’s victory has, justifiably so, upset all well-informed and principled people. We’re fully aware how the next president will be a vain, avaricious, dogmatic, undiplomatic, intellectually incurious, soulless creature, who gets off on mindless discrimination, hatred and violence, which targets women, LGBTs, racial minorities, non-Christians, the aged, ailing and disabled. In addition to his unleashing societal ruin we know he’ll soon be inflicting perhaps irreversible, irreparable, economic and ecological devastation upon our world.

Within nanoseconds of his victory, Trump “successfully” emboldened legions of his low information and amoral deplorables, who, with increasing frequency and severity, have been going off on a celebratory rampage. On his behalf, they’re scrawling racist and sexist graffiti everywhere… are intimidating anyone who doesn’t measure up to their waspy standards…. are ambushing women with a barrage of dirty deeds and obscenities. His evil influence has even poisoned America’s youngest minds to the point where school kids are taunting and threatening their own classmates. [Related Story #1] [Related Story #2] [Related Story #3] [Related Story #4]

While we might be able to hold our noses and take Trump’s victory in stride, it’s been the post Election Day stench wafting off of these grotesque white supremacists and their atrocious displays that we can NEVER stomach!

It has been liberals’ anticipation of Trump’s ugly America and our watching, in horror, as this nightmare is already coming true (two months prior to Inauguration Day), which have caused our outrage to spill out into the streets… our own demonstrations, oft times, deteriorating into violence.

The fact that prez-elect Trump has, so far, only paid lip service towards healing divided America, amply demonstrates how he is either a lousy leader or, worse yet, a sadist who is enjoying what’s rapidly and rabidly becoming a feeding frenzy of hostility.

We, who can still think rationally, need to take a time-out to better understand what we’re going up against. Donald Trump possesses a closed mind attached to closed ears that rarely, IF EVER, listen to anyone. This fact raises some tough questions… such as…

  1. Beyond the emotional catharsis, just what is it that we hope our demonstrations will accomplish?
  2. Could we ever cause Donny to experience an epiphany… suddenly feel the resultant onrush of warm, heartfelt, decent human feelings? NOPE… not gonna happen!
  3. Could we ever teach him to respect humanity? NOPE… not gonna happen!
  4. Could we ever convince him to either mend his wicked ways or abdicate the power he is intoxicated with / addicted to? NOPE… not gonna happen!

Folks, Trump is beyond reason… beyond redemption… and worse yet, politically speaking, totally untouchable. With the soon to be restored, rightwing, judicial juggernaut on the U.S. Supreme Court bench… there’ll be no rulings against him… with the U.S. House and Senate’s rightwing chokehold… they’ll never impeach and remove him from office.

So… does this mean correcting this situation is utterly hopeless? That resistance is futile?

In a word… NO.  We must continue raising awareness regarding all the damage which Trump and his deplorables are doing, while being mindful of the fact that, as reprehensible as their conduct is, we must NEVER sink down to their level.

We must always take the high road to deal with these hate crimes… e.g., use our cell phones to first record and preserve visual evidence against all perpetrators and, next, encourage all the victims, along with any eyewitnesses, to call the cops.

As for our political demonstrations, we need to play some mind games… use psychological warfare… as it were…

Prime example: Let’s consider how, throughout the 2016 campaign, we saw Donny feeling rapture whenever he whipped up his supporters… got them to throw punches at any naysayers, who were attending his rallies. This all suggests that our best demonstrations could involve no demonstrations at all!

Folks, don’t you get it? The ultimate way to piss off narcissist Trump just might be to totally ignore him. Our use of passive resistance would deny him his perverse satisfaction, which could utterly devastate him… make this cowardly bully so despondent he’d tuck tale and skulk back into the pool of primordial goo from whence he spawned.

Of course I’d be remiss to not mention the inherent danger that he’d simply delude himself into believing that zero protests mean everybody now loves him.

So… realistically… long sigh… our protests must continue.

And whenever they do occur, we must never let our passions excessively govern us. We must never walk our anger down Trump’s low road. Our brains must trump brawn when we demonstrate… our movement needs a more proactive and productive methodology and venue.

The Internet / Blogosphere would provide visibility and accessibility to our noble cause… be the go-to place where our war of words can be fought and won.

We’re also going to need to find true blue liberals in the real world… candidates who are strong (but nonviolent), smart, charismatic, politically and emotionally baggage-free… folks, who’ll work within the system to change the system for the better… who’ll run for elective office at the federal, state and local levels… who’ll be funded by grass roots strategies… the few bucks here and there / small contributions from everyday, average Janes and Joes.

True, this will all take time but the sooner we start… the better. Equally true, it’s unlikely we’ll ever win over many of Donny’s deplorables but, then again, the whole idea would be to marginalize them while we energize the electorate… especially the apathetic voters who, had they not sat out the 2016 elections?

Well… we would’ve elected Hillary Clinton as our first woman president… and, would not now be facing down the dismal prospects of Donny’s Dark Ages for 4 to 8 years… as well as having to suffer the consequences regarding what are sure to be his handpicked, emotionally impaired and supremely ignorant Supreme Court judicial hacks… who’ll outlive him by 2 to 4 DECADES!!!

 

Yo Donald! Please Deport Me, Too! (99 Word Blog #068)

 

ATTN: Mister Trump!

My parents’ parents immigrated to America… Mama’s folks were Yugoslavians… Papa’s folks were Croatians.

That makes my parents only first generation, born and raised Americans… makes me only a second generation, homegrown American.

There’s also reason to believe some of our ancestors were of the Jewish Faith… had passed themselves off as Christians to avoid the persecution of boneheaded bastards… such as you.

Now… getting to the whole point of this open letter…

After Inauguration Day… once you start purging America of folks who clash with your Master Race motif… would you please deport me, too?

 

DANGER! Trump, Ryan, McConnell & Roberts’ One Party Rule

Politically speaking, I know the difference between right and left. As the grown-up here, it’s abundantly clear to me that, on Election Day, the children on the right threw a tantrum and wrongfully elected Donald Trump as our their president.

Morally speaking, I know the difference between right and wrong. As a respectable adult, I’m fully aware that I must reject Donald Trump as our their president.

Because I’ve honored the U.S. Constitution’s stipulation calling for an orderly transition of power, I’ve done my patriotic duty… and that’s as far as I’ll go. I must draw the line somewhere! And that means I ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT compromise my ethics the same way Trump and his supporters flip off theirs… that is… if they ever had any true patriotism and solid scruples to begin with.

Under normal circumstances, we, who voted for Hillary Clinton, would mourn for awhile and then shrug off her defeat by saying, “Oh well… better luck next time”… BUT… it’s not as easy as that.

How so?

Mere days ago, the voters did absolutely nothing to safeguard America (and the world) against madman Trump’s wrecking ball. And I’m not being melodramatic when I point out how Dangerous Donny made campaign promises, which will batter, objectify and subjugate women, discriminate against LGBTs, fan the flames of racial and religious intolerance and mock disabled folks… which showcased his ill-conceived plans to plunder our economy and lay waste to Earth’s fragile ecosystem.

These voters cleared away all Constitutional impediments from Dangerous Donny’s path by granting him solid Republican Legislative Branch majorities and, as soon as he fills the vacant seat on the SCOTUS bench, he’ll have a 5-4 Republican majority within the Judicial Branch, too.

Under normal circumstances, even one party rule would be tempered by checks and balances, where (in this instance) the Republican majority… both legislators and judges… would consistently prioritize their patriotism over partisanship.

In other words, IF WHEN Trump does something wrong… they’d fearlessly call him out as flat out wrong.

But, such patriotic and moral traits… such political mettle… NEITHER accurately characterize Republican House Speaker Paul Ryan, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell and U.S. Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts NOR their sycophantic rightwing colleagues.

So, I can only counter the folly of my American compatriots, who’ve elected Donald Trump… and, worse yet, have granted him absolute power (which will corrupt absolutely) by saying…

My rock solid patriotism and moral compass guide me on the high road.

I will NEVER march in lockstep, alongside them, down their low road… down Donny’s low road, which is strewn with the craggy rocks and boulders of insanity, profanity, stupidity, bigotry, misogyny and gluttony.

Although they are oblivious to the grave reality of the situation of their own making… they have buried America.

After only four years hours of Donald Trump in the Oval Office, for average Janes and Joes (and yes, ironically, that’ll include Trump’s supporters), the American Dream will come to an end… the American Nightmare will begin. As for the phrase, “Oh well… better luck next time”…

Oh well… better luck next time.