Dear Brian,
Where have you been? Your posts are few and far between and hardly any of them relate to the up coming election. I miss you.
Where have you been? Your posts are few and far between and hardly any of them relate to the up coming election. I miss you.
Yours,
Brian
Well, Brian, I’ve been protecting myself from the inevitable
2020 Trump re-election. Sorry for not having a more poignant, insightful excuse
for my absence from my own blog, but that’s the simple truth. With my
daughter’s leap to college only six months away, the possibility of a
Corona-plague, and a handful of familial dilemmas that require my sincerest
attentions, I’ve decided to shut my big, fat, fucking mouth and focus on other matters that matter to my loved ones and me. As I’ve discovered, there’s nothing I can
write here (or anywhere) that will change anything for anyone. Trump is
guaranteed a repeat and I refuse to endure the years-long depression (compounded
by the hypochondriacal aches, palpitations, twitches, and panic-attacks) that
will follow.
It’s no secret, Brian, that I’m a Bernie-bubala. He’s the very first person I ever voted for (when, at 18-years-old, I registered to vote in Bennington, VT) and, simply put, he mostly represents everything I believe in, policy-wise. I am not, however, a Bernie-or-Bust Bro. If the eventual Donkey-nominee ends up being Warren, Biden, Buttitieg, or (shutter) Bloomberg, my vote is theirs. But with the current state of Idiocracy that governs the self-perpetuating anger of white men (and many white women) from Staten Island, NY to Orange County, CA, I can’t imagine a fortuitous outcome. On Tuesday, November 3rd, by midnight, His Marmalade Highness will be spraying another can of his fetid tan on America. And when our Velveeta Leader finally dies of a massive coronary explosion while still in office, we will experience a run of Trumplings that will shift our already tenuous democracy into a full-blown gilded royal oligarchy with president Don-Don Jr. followed by the first woman as president, Ivanka Trump, then a short reign for the one-dimensional Doofus-in-Chief, Eric and, finally, when the United States of America is rebranded, Trumptopia, King Barron Trump the First. It’s inevitable. Enough. Stop.
Seriously, silliness aside (or not), I’ve been silent because I can’t manage the pain. The last election nearly did me in. If I publicly pour out my passions again I anticipate a mental and physical collapse greater than the last… and that I can’t endure. I’m just not strong enough.
So, Brian, my silence.
Burn after reading.
Sincerely,
Brian
No comments:
Post a Comment