I’ve found that maintaining a perverse sense of humor about the demise of democracy keeps alcohol consumption down. While it’s tempting to attempt Bill Faulkner’s self-medicinal regimen, my meager literary output is insufficient to garner Beloved’s benediction. It’s one thing to overlook a Nobel Prize winning writer’s bourbon-enhanced sabbaticals, it’s quite another when the sloshed reprobate is yours truly. And so I maintain a hazy, semi-conscious peephole, rather than complete oblivion’s sweeter scenery.
Today was a pleasant diversion from the usual dreary bullshit. Joplin Globe blogger Duane Graham (whose writing is accessible in the right hand corner) spanked the nuts off of Geoff “Ro” Caldwell (whose atrocities are not accessible in the right hand corner). Rarely does a dull Dittohead receive such a public horse whipping as was applied by The Erstwhile Conservative. I have no idea what possessed the hack talk radio transcriber to slither from his quiet crawlspace, but I’m glad "Ro" exposed his ass to more than the two or three buffoons who share the same repugnant politics. Of course, I couldn’t resist the temptation to tease.
Further laughs were had later when Anson Burlingame (Caldwell’s partner in bad English) rubbed salve on his buddy’s bleeding butt: There, there my little patriot. Graham is an intemperate ideologue, incapable of love for country or playing the mawkish victim. Be strong; be strong for me. I need your strength so I can continue posing as a right-of-center conservative.
Had I not been overcome by a wave of nausea, I’d have commented: Decorum invisible tank lovers. Please, get a room!
And so a brief respite from the systematic breakdown of America. Yet without another refreshing glass of bye-bye juice, I fear my soiled tissue will circle closer to the drain.
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