I want to tell you a story.
It’s a story because I can’t prove any of it although I believe it to be true.
To be president of the United States of America, a candidate has no choice but to meet with the contemporaneous version of Satan at some humid crossroads in the middle of the night not too far from the Mississippi Delta.
The candidate is made to understand that no matter how successful the campaign is, there is a prerequisite. Parchment requiring signature. Otherwise, forces with which they cannot contend will throw with all available violence and subterfuge against them. If they somehow prevail in the primary without express consent granted by the signed agreement, people close to them will disappear or worse.
This is exactly why and how the Vietnam war was allowed the horrible claim it has on our memory. JFK wouldn’t sign or chose to abrogate. Bobby Kennedy wasn’t going to honor it if he did. MLK and Malcom X weren’t invited. All assassinated.
Nixon was so anxious to comply, he stained it with flop sweat while scribbling his name.
This story of mine is why we have had all manner of catastrophic trade deals, bottom heavy tax policy, seven wars in the Middle East, a dearth of climate change legislation, bullshit health care, ridiculously expensive education and an army of knuckle dragging morons that have no idea about any of it but slogans and ritual talking points. The dark lord has a powerful public relations arm.
The devil only wades in on social issues when they suit him. He doesn’t give a shit about abortion. He’s not bothered by the Gays or Jews or Mexicans or Blacks. He shares no common ground with Clockwork Orangutan’s base except hyper normalized greed. This Lucifer isn’t a democrat or a republican.
He’s both and neither.
However the division suits him.
Hillary signed deals with anybody sporting horns and cloven hooves ten years ago. She ran out of ink. Clockwork Orangutan was as thick as a porcupine with quills to sign any fucking thing. He doesn’t give a shit what he signed. He thinks he can sue.
It’s disgusting how many marquee democrats have pens ready, awaiting requests for audience with Beelzebub to be granted. Just in case.
Obama presided over awful things. The TPP and the Israeli apartheid state. Drone bombing civilians all over the world. The filthy getting filthier while the hopeless got even more hopeless. I can’t stand that I was suckered by the soaring rhetoric only to end up with a business as usual neoliberal lot manager.
I don’t doubt how dirty his hands are.
So yes, in my story, Obama put pen to paper at the behest of the anti-Christ.
I can’t help but like him. I like his wife. I can’t be wrong to appreciate these people for their class and composure in the face of vulgar adversity. To admire them for their grace and discretion.
I can’t stand that Trump’s sons can’t figure out what to do with their hair and weak chin DNA.
I have genuine fondness for Obama and his family.
Does all this make me a hypocrite?
Obama never embarrassed me. He disappointed me. Made me furious. He fucked up plenty. Trump is a silver spoon septuagenarian so simple, he doesn’t understand what the people he’s appointing are supposed to do. He doesn’t care.
Obama inherited a load that would choke a herd. He is a product of our most revered institutions. His record of accomplishment reads like a primer on the right thing to do in America. His ambition was quiet and steady. One can argue that on paper at least, things are better, not worse. We didn’t go off the cliff we had one hell of a head of steam for. He’s patient and fucking smart.
They say all politics is local and all too often, personal. This is personal to me. It’s not hyperbolic for me to say that the ACA quite possibly saved my life.
I can’t help but believe Obama is a decent human being that did the best he could under the consequences of selling out so forgive me for saying he’s pretty fucking cool.
Trump is a raging dickhead.
One is a man, the other pretends to be.
I guess all I’m doing is pointing out the difference.
The contrast in character.
I miss the days when I knew I was gonna get fucked because some democrat was desperately trying to make out with me.
Now it’s as simple as as watching the news, but the shit show is blinding, and even the “liberal media” is lunging for my junk every goddamn night.
Drinks for my friends.