Well, Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. Looks like 2020 needs to be shot with a tranquillizer gun and then just humanely put down. Because Republicans—who have sworn an oath to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, both foreign and domestic—have decided that the oath doesn’t actually prevent them from some light couping, if it gets them a head start on the 2024 presidential election, and they’re planning on spending Wednesday posturing and bloviating about how the votes of 74 million Americans somehow matter more than the votes of 81 million Americans.
That’s in addition to the Chaos Monkey (who
spent an hour Saturday trying to whine Georgia’s secretary of state to magic up
votes that would give the state to him) egging on the Incels- and Neck-Beards-R-Us
crowd to swarm into the District They Call Columbia in their color-coordinated
little outfits on Wednesday to engage in some heavy violence and criming so he
can invoke the Insurrection Act, declare martial law and generally satisfy his
ever-growing need for fuckery.
And they all are completely bollixing my first
Gratitude Monday of the year.
Also, a few days ago a squirrel climbed up my
screen door and looked me in the face as it peed right down the screen. I am
just not in the mood.
However, it is Gratitude Monday and it is
a new year. So at the moment, I am deeply grateful that at noon on 20 January,
no matter what sedition kabuki the Repugs engage in or how much tear gas and
tasers the pumped-up maskless crowd ingest—at noon on 20 January, Cadet
Bonespurs ceases to be President of the United States. Whether he’s replaced by
Joe Biden or Nancy Pelosi, it’s still all good.
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