The Four Women of The Trumpocalypse

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Does anyone else find it odd, or even mildly deviant, that a Putin-loving pussy-grabber is running for President behind the blocking of a fearsome female foursome, any one of whom could bust his geezer balls without breaking enough of a sweat to muss their make-up.

To call these ladies pit bulls would be an insulting cliché and, by definition, characterize them as bitches, which is offensive, politically incorrect and would not be in keeping with the woman-sensitive winds blowing through America in the aftermath of their champion’s foul-mouthed utterances.

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It suffices to say this formidable photogenic foursome—Ann Coulter, Scottie Nell Hughes, Kaleigh McEnany and Katrina Pierson–comprise a ferocious phalanx of educated, attractive women who are as tough as tractor tires.

How tough are they?

If Ferret-top pulled his signature under-the-skirt grab with one of these women, he would no longer be cast as a groping octopus but would instead emerge better-suited for the role of Captain Hook or the one-armed man in a remake of The Fugitive. In comparison, the Fearsome Foursome make Mr. T in his prime look like Pee Wee Herman.

First up is Ann Coulter, the right wing author and political commentator who, on the far side of 50, strides through book promotion tours in knee-high black boots and a matching micro mini, looking more like The Donald’s aging dominatrix than his political mentor. A sampling  of her literary oeuvre includes Slander: Liberal Lies About the American Right; Treason: Liberal Treachery from The Cold War to the War on Terrorism;  If Democrats had any Brains They’d be Republicans and Adios America: The Left’s Plan to Turn Our Republic into an American Hellhole.

A dog-eared copy of the latter title is said to sit on the Bloviating Trumpet Blasters bedside table for easy reference, no doubt beside an autographed copy of Coulter’s latest offering In Trump We Trust.

How tough is she? The Cornell-educated lawyer is so tough Ferret-top defers to her for insult advice.

The angelic face of the Donald’s most recognizable TV defender, Kayleigh McEnany, belies an iron will that refuses to break, bend, or even wilt a little while defending the Old Orange Groper against all-comers. Night after night, through a soiled laundry list of allegations including tax fraud, bigotry, a bromance with Putin, and a university fraud scam, with accusations of sexual assault piling atop one another, she stands by her man in the face of his daily campaign foibles, staring implacably at the camera with her crucifix prominently displayed to ward off left wing devils.

McEnany has impressive credentials. A Harvard Law School graduate, she holds a BSFS in International Politics from the Georgetown University School of Foreign Service. She studied politics and international relations at Oxford University. She recently told CNN’s millions of worldwide viewers, which presumably includes old classmates and professors from Harvard and Oxford, without the slightest flinch, that Donald Trump has turned his life over to the Lord.

How tough is she? Tougher than getting an unsecured bank loan to start a porcupine petting zoo.

Like McEnany, the androgynously named Scottie Nell Hughes, who bills herself on her website as a journalist and patriot, is willing to wade through a sea of salt water alligators in defense of the Old Orange Octopus’ right to swim the wrong way on women’s issues. She faces down every perceived threat with a barely concealed sneer before effortlessly pivoting to the right on all questions about her man’s suitability for America’s top job.

She advertises her ‘woman of faith’ status with a crucifix and recently engaged in an on-air shouting match over fellow Republican Anna Navarro’s right to use the word pussy in front of her daughter, who was watching at home. Chastising a Republican strategist for repeating her candidate’s taped pussygate utterances takes real balls.

She graduated Magna Cum Laude from the University of Tennessee at Martin with a degree in broadcast communications/political science and in 2013 was named one of the Top Twenty Hottest Conservative Women in the New Media by Right Wing News.

How tough is Scottie Nell Hughes? Tougher than the rusted steel track on a rock pit bulldozer.

Katrina Pierson, the raven-haired Munster mom look-alike, is arguably the most fearsome of this ferocious foursome. She has a black-eyed laser stare that is said to chill alcoholic drinks and turn mud puddles to ice from 50 yards. So fierce is her demeanor she could win a cage fight with Mike Tyson through visual intimidation.

Born into poverty to a 15-year-old mother and black father, she graduated from the University of Texas at Dallas with a bachelor of biology. A Texan who ‘found her people’ while attending her first Tea Party meeting, she shoots indiscriminately from ruby red lips. She also tweets with the fervour of her boss and has refused to apologize for a 2013 online exchange that included: “This corrupt country has a head Negro in charge.”

She showed up for a CNN interview with a necklace of bullets to support the NRA and has threatened to wear a fetus necklace to shame godless liberals. When asked about Ferret-top’s primary campaign proposal to ban Muslims she replied, succinctly, “So what, they’re Muslims.”

How tough is Katrina Pierson? So tough they named a hurricane after her

Serial groping allegations aside, one thing is certain even to the Old Orange Octopus’ worst critics, he respects these gals.

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A Woman’s guide to rating The Donald

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Much like the Fonz, Trump jumped the shark a long time ago

Is there any doubt that the man who delights in rating women on their physical appearance sees a 10 in the bathroom mirror as he sprays the final strands of orange lacquer over his balding pate in the morning? In the Donald’s reality TV world he’s a chick magnet, a virtuoso of virility, irresistible to women.

So let’s take a top down look at the Mango Megalomaniac’s physical appearance, absent his wallet, through a female version of himself and rate him on a scale of 1 to 10.

  1. Hair. He can rightly boast that he has the most famous coif in America, but not for good reasons. He sports a thinning, greased-back-at-the-sides, too-long-in-back duck-tail augmented by a chemically cemented-into-place flat top comb over that has been likened to an aircraft carrier or a place to conceal small mammals. Running your fingers through it during a tryst is not optional without industrial strength rubber gloves. The indeterminate colour reminds one of an aging Miami matron whose dye-job at the discount salon went bad. Think Fonzie in a suit at 70, fighting  baldness and the greying strands of time. Let’s be kind and give him a -3.
  2. Face. Any rating of The Donald’s face has to start with the out-of-control eyebrows, so endearing on the aged late 60 Minutes curmudgeon Andy Rooney but not the love arches of feminine dreams. They flare in unkempt orange-ish glory over squinty blue eyes enfolded in fat, above a narrow nose and soft pink lips that disturbingly bring to mind the female body part he famously likes to grab. The facial failings are rounded out by neck wattles encroaching on a weak chin. In keeping with his signature garish taste, The Donald enhances the whole off-putting look by slathering it in fake tan goop. Factoring in age, he deserves a 2.
  3. Fashion sense. The Donald strides through the corporate/political world looking disheveled in two thousand dollar custom suits, the ill-fitting coats of which hang halfway to his knees. He accentuates with silk ties long enough to suffer splash-back stains when he pees. His belly bulges between perpetually unbuttoned suit jackets and he tops the look at political rallies with baseball caps. Enough said. As the song goes, he’s a three dressed up as… well… a three.
  4. Body. Not having been traumatized by seeing him step out of the shower with hair hanging to his shoulder on one side, judges are left to imagine what only Melania knows for sure. For rating purposes let’s picture him on stage at one of his beloved pageants wearing a speedo. Judges would undoubtedly see a pasty white body, looking ghostly in contrast with the mango mess topside, not with a six pack but instead something more closely resembling a two-four, his man boobs sagging, shriveled and petite in relation to the gut that is casting a shadow over his reputed shortcomings and hairless legs. If you aren’t eating, envision the Donald ‘moving like a bitch’ on  a female 10, his stubby fingers groping and flabby cottage cheese bum cheeks jiggling. (Sorry about that.) Let’s be charitable and give him a -2 and award Melania a 10-plus for suffering through her wifely duties.

If I’ve done the math correctly that rates the Donald a zero, bringing to mind the man who throws stones from his glass tower.

The Donald knocks himself out with low blow to democracy

 

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The Mango Megalomaniac delivered the knockout punch his supporters were so hoping for in last night’s debate but unfortunately for them his hay-maker missed Hated Hillary and landed squarely on his own jaw.

The man who finds ever more creative ways to lower the election bar finally reached his bottom Wednesday night in twice refusing to say he would accept the verdict of the people on Nov. 8.

How low did he go to inflame his base by questioning the legitimacy of his country’s sacrosanct electoral process? He went lower than the snake’s anus he has proved himself to be.

Earlier this year, after travelling the Divided States for five months, this casual election observer channeled Charles Dickens in suggesting the U.S. is the best of countries and the worst of countries.

The world is seeing the worst of it now.

The dirty dogfight billed as a presidential election is putting a dark stain on the democratic tradition Americans purport to hold so dear. It is not so much an election by the people for the people as it is a no-holds-barred cage fight between the much-reviled choice of the Democratic Party elite and a narcissistic, sociopath who tapped into widespread voter discontent and the nation’s dark psyche to steal the nomination from the Republican Party elite.

Is it democracy when the people are presented with two choices out of a population of 300-plus million, both of whom are deeply disliked and mistrusted by the majority?

But there you have it. On Election Day the people must choose between a foul-mouthed, bronze-tinted, accused sexual deviant and a trust-challenged, political schemer who has her own sex pervert, if not on the ticket, then at her side on the dais and stumping for her on the campaign trail.

How did it come to this in a country that bills itself as the world’s showcase of democracy? A nation awash in good-intentioned people with intellectual depth. A land whose institutions of higher learning are beacons for deep thinkers from around the globe.

To go over the months of mudslinging from both primaries to the final weeks of the campaign is too daunting. Let’s start at the pre-Third Debate low point with the accusations of sexual assault, which might seem an odd campaign issue to observers in other countries watching an election being fought by two senior citizens.

The heavily made-up, immaculately-coiffed Czech mate’s vested marital interest aside, few objective observers believe a diverse group of women now numbering in double digits would subject themselves to the abuse of the Mango Misogynist’s knuckle draggers on behalf of Hated Hillary and the Democratic Party. That leaves morally challenged Republicans and fundamentalist religious fanatics to point the finger at Bill Clinton, invoking school yard rationalizations like, “He did it too.”

Democrats deflect accusations against former President Clinton, the Fastest Zipper in the West Wing, by pointing out that he’s not running for election. Indeed he isn’t but with the issue of sexual assault front and centre, the country’s first female Presidential candidate chooses to send the gaunt pee-pee exposer on the campaign trail as her surrogate. At the very least, the optics are terrible and her judgement should rightly be questioned.

Is it any wonder sexual assault on the nation’s college campuses is being called an epidemic, with one in five female students claiming they have suffered some form of sexual abuse? Clearly, being a sexual predator doesn’t preclude one from reaching for the top in America’s democracy.

Despite her deep-seated unpopularity with a vast swath of voters, the Democratic Party power structure handed the 2016 keys to Hated Hillary as reward for being the good soldier when Barack Obama came out of nowhere in 2008 to take the nomination from her on a platform of change.

Remember the optimism embodied in Obama’s campaign slogan–Yes We Can. It seems so long ago.

In defeat, Hated Hillary played nice and toed the party line, helping to elect Obama, then serving as Secretary of State for four years before resigning to raise money and plot her return. The latest manifestation of her long obsession to become Mrs. President began in 2012, funded by big money and Wall Street bankers anxious to hedge their bets.

And who can blame her for vacating her important cabinet post with the Middle East in flames. It takes a lot of money to become the people’s President or even for a seat in the Senate or Congress. So much money that Senators and Congressman spend a great deal of time dialing for dollars when they could be attending to the people’s business or bringing their respective legislative bodies to a standstill with pig-headed devotion to their respective parties. These muddling ideological money grubbers aren’t calling Joe the Plumber for a hundred bucks but instead are concentrating on the big fish, none of whom made their money by giving it away without expecting something in return.

Meanwhile, The Evil Orange Clown, on the lookout for attention with his reality TV career winding down, stumbled upon a power base on the dark side by fronting a fringe conspiracy movement, calling into question the first black President’s right to hold office by questioning his place of birth. Sensing an opening with the country’s legions of mouth-breathers, he declared his bid for the Presidency by following in the footsteps of history’s most successful dictators, demonizing visible minorities by blaming them for the mouth-breathers’ many failures in life.

He insulted his way through the Republican primaries with a clownish swagger that the GOP elite treated like a bad joke until he began knocking off establishment candidates and belittling party stalwarts. Using money he saved from not paying taxes, he travelled the country spewing bigotry and hate while casting his opponents into the political dung heap.

After eight years of ideological obfuscation in the Senate and Congress, during which Republican legislators shut down the federal government, refusing to appropriate funds to the Obama administration for the coming fiscal year, and with the country’s infrastructure deteriorating to Third World levels and the economy sputtering, it became plain for all to see Washington is no longer working for the people.

Enter the Evil Orange Clown stage right wing, fresh off the set of the Apprentice, where his constituency of reality TV viewers deemed him an omnipotent boardroom fixer of all things broken. People desperate for change came out in droves to support a man who hasn’t changed his hairstyle in 50-odd years, except to add a few layers of orange lacquer to his comb over.

Things didn’t turn sinister until Ferret-top’s numbers dropped in the wake of the First Debate and his subsequent late night twitter war with a former beauty queen. By the Second Debate he had been outed by his own foul words as Billy Bush’s pussy-grabbing mentor.

Seriously folks, the GOP’s bad joke had turned into its worst nightmare, threatening to drag the party that gave us George W., Sarah Palin and the Tea Party into the political obscurity it so richly deserves. Republicans hoping to save themselves from drowning in the backwash jumped the sinking ship of deplorable fools like rats running from a ferocious shipboard tomcat, leaving Ferret-top unshackled at the helm.

Instead of dropping anchor to pick up any survivors Captain Clown Face is steering toward the reef, where he will jump into his billionaire lifeboat and do what he has always done in time of crisis, namely leave the little guys whose good faith he took advantage of to their fate.

In light of his whingeing about media bias and a rigged election, followed by his unprecedented disgraceful debate performance that questioned the validity of America’s venerated democratic process, it should be clear to all but the most obtuse fanatics and the un-Christian Right, that Ferret-top is willing to take the country down to save his fake-tanned face.

Hated Hillary may be the flawed candidate of the establishment but beside the Evil Orange Clown she is Mother Teresa with a PhD.

 

 

We Interrupt This Broadcast for…

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With fruit like the Old Orange Groper hanging so low and Hypocrite Hillary dodging daily WikiLeaks revelations, it’s easy for a critic of the 2016 election to overlook a major player in the sordid dark comedy that has made America the laughing stock of the world.

The reality show’s producer tends to fade to black behind a cast of villains and victims, heroes and heroines, good guys gone bad and bad guys pretending to be good, all of them working with a script too salacious for the kids to watch.

But let’s put CNN’s name in the credits and give just due to the 24-hour news network that is the go-to source of information when calamity strikes anywhere in the world. The first all-news-all-the-time station has come a long way since being founded by Ted Turner in 1980 to raised eyebrows from the established players in the TV world. If its election coverage is a benchmark of journalistic excellence, the CNN Turner envisioned has a long way to go.

The first thing that becomes apparent to an all-day watcher is that unlike conventional networks it only has one prime-time show that stretches from early afternoon when the target audience geezers are digesting lunch to nine o’clock when they’ve finished their cocoa and are heading for bed.

The producers break the monotony of eight hours of airtime by cleverly camouflaging the show’s length with different hosts that change throughout the broadcast day, leaving viewers to discover that the content and main players are the same whenever you tune in.

Things start out with Honest Jake Tapper of The Lead playing footage of the Bloviating Trumpet Blaster’s day-old gaffs, interspersed with snippets about Hypocrite Hillary’s ongoing e-mail issues, followed by analysis from a rotating cast of blowhards and sycophants, each of them seemingly chosen for a particularly annoying personality trait.

Honest Jake sets the stage for the pretentiously named Situation Room presided over by Wolf Blitzer, who disguises the similarity of content by titillating viewers with promises of more Breaking News before every commercial break, which means previously aired footage of Ferret-top’s follies and Hillary’s alleged lies.

Titillating Wolf had this political junkie hanging through the commercials for the first couple of days, waiting with tic-tac-baited breath for the next plot turn. But even an old fool can only be fooled so many times before figuring out that the white-bearded CNN sour puss is actually the Wolf who cried wolf.

Out Front’s Perky Erin Burnett makes a nice change in the late afternoon time slot, bringing a fresh female perspective to the same old footage, Ferret-top getting off the Billy Bush bus or bloviating in front of a crowd of trailer park boys and girls, interspersed with Hypocrite Hillary suppressing her joy at the Mango Misogynist’s latest blunder.

Perky Erin is not so much out front as she is in the middle of Titillating Wolf and Earnest Anderson Cooper’s 360. Although fabulously rich and a CNN star closing on 50, Earnest Anderson musters the enthusiasm of a cub reporter while airing the same old footage and moderating fights with the blowhards and sycophants.

He anchors the favored supper hour time slot, catching the geezers as they finish up dinner at five and reeling in the after work crowd with more unfulfilled promises of Breaking News, which turns out to be the same material that’s been airing continuously since Honest Jake recycled it from the day before on The Lead.

Earnest Anderson is the network’s golden man-child, and as such gets the plum assignments, like anchoring the second debate and traipsing over to Trump Towers when summoned by Melania’s handlers, who finally deemed her sufficiently prepped for a prime time response to her husband’s sexist tape. CNN hyped its upcoming exclusive all day with tantalizing teasers that left hyped-up viewers of the Melania infomercial feeling tricked.

Despite his intimate familiarity with the world of the rich and infamous as the son of Gloria Vanderbilt, Earnest Anderson’s scoop came off like a Barbara Walters audience with the Queen. With Trump campaign manager Kellyanne Conway lurking within striking distance just out of camera range, viewers watched him lob softball questions in reverential tones at the former model sitting motionless on a garish gilt-edged chair. The Columbia School of Journalism won’t be showing this turkey in its broadcast journalism class.

To be fair, Earnest Anderson occasionally introduces a few new twists to the show, adding a new blowhard or two and supplementing the daytime sycophants with the prime time heavies audiences love to hate. He even interviews an actual non-expert person now and then.

By the time Earnest Anderson gives way to Dapper Don Lemon on CNN Tonight, the daily newspapers and other working online journalists have broken new stories for the network to crib. Dapper Dan intersperses the old footage of Ferret-top’s foot-in-mouth pronouncements and Hypocrite Hillary’s e-mail obfuscations, with interviews with working journalists from other organizations explaining how they got the latest dirt. He finishes up by refereeing fights between the expert windjammers and sycophant heavies before giving way to a 360 rerun, a signal to viewers the CNN ‘breaking news’ day has come full circle.

It’s understandable that CNN’s resources might be stretched a smite thin, what with having to edit a two-minute clip of Haiti’s hurricane devastation along with freelanced montages of genocide in Aleppo and the impending fall of Mosul to fill in the odd programming gap. And don’t forget the network’s doctor-on-call, Sanjay Gupta, at the hospital pacing with the parents of twins joined at the head.

Still, you’d think the network could work up a new election graphic to replace the one that portrays Hypocrite Hillary as the beatific Flying Nun and Ferret-top as the snarling red-faced devil.

Everyone expects Fox News to be biased but come on CNN, you’re better than that.

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The Christian Wrong

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A lot of people are saying that wasn’t a bible but his copy of “50 Shades of Grey”

Is there one person in all of Christendom who believes Donald Trump is a ‘man of faith’, other than Kayleigh McEnany, the psycho-eyed, crucifix-flaunting Trump sycophant, who without so much as a hint of a smile told an international television audience that the mango-flavored serial groper has turned his life over to Christ?

Oh yeah, I guess there’s also Liberty University President Jerry Falwell Junior, who lords over thousands of ‘students of faith’ at the school founded by his father, one-time televangelist Jerry Falwell. Jerry Senior also founded the Moral Majority way back when, molding the Christian Right into a political force before eventually handing the keys to his profitable earthly kingdom to his son Jes…. er… Jerry.

Jerry Junior told CNN anchor Erin Burnett Wednesday that he believes Ferret-top’s denial of the most recent groping allegations by two women who came forward in the New York Times after the second debate. As one ‘man of faith’ to another, Junior takes the world class dis-assembler at his word.

Ignoring all evidence to the contrary, including  Ferret-top’s own foul-mouthed taped admissions, Junior remained adamant that the Christian Right’s savior has mended his ways. But when pressed by Burnett, he allowed that even if the allegations were true he would still vote for the old orange groper because there are more important things at stake than electing a sexual predator as President.

Namely, filling the vacant Supreme Court seats with the sort of jurists who support the causes of an unctuously self-righteous group of right wing nut-balls who would rather see the country in flames than have godless moderates in power. In their world, it’s the Christian thing to do.

Junior, at least, comes by his distorted view of reality honestly. By divine osmosis. In the aftermath of 9/11 his Dad famously told The 700 Club: “I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People for the American Way of Life, all of them who have tried to secularize America, I point the finger in their face and say ‘you helped make this happen.’”

Fact check for Jerry Senior and his church basket of demented doughnuts, may his crispy, hell-fired remains rest in peace: The United States was founded as a secular country so that persecuted people arriving from oppressed shores could practice the religion of their choice. Or not. As they saw fit. The prescient founding fathers made a point of separating Church and State.

But what chance does a kid have at a normal life view when Dad is spouting this kind of ignorance at the family dinner table. And that is what is truly scary about the rise of the  Trumpeting hate blaster. No amount of higher education or logic can turn the righteous from their path. As history has proven and their ‘barbaric brethren in faith’ in the Middle East continue to prove, no man is more dangerous than the one who is convinced God is on his side.

Still another ‘man of faith’, one-time Republican presidential hopeful Ben Carson, a brain surgeon no less, says he witnessed Ferret-top get down on his knees to pray for forgiveness after the sexist tape was released. Really Ben? You sure Vladimir Putin wasn’t nearby with his fly down when the Donald got on his knees, which seems more likely than him turning to the Lord, or anyone else, for guidance.

Carson makes three believers, and the facetious opening to this blog notwithstanding, there are tens of millions more believers roaming the streets of America armed to the teeth. During the primary campaign, Ferret-top boasted he could shoot a person on Main Street and not lose his political base. Frighteningly, this boast appears to be true. His sycophants would surely claim justifiable homicide, especially if the victim was Hispanic, Muslim, or even worse,  his arch enemy Bill Maher, an atheist.

And that augers badly for post-election America.

Hitler lost his democratic bid to be President of Germany in 1932 with 37 per cent of the vote, with his anti-democratic Nazi Party garnering 230 seats of 608 in the Reichstag. Amidst back door maneuvering, political machinations, hints of a godless communist takeover and rumors of an impending military coup, the elected President Paul von Hindenberg, then in his mid-80s, reluctantly appointed Hitler Chancellor in 1933. The thinking at the time was that he could be better controlled within the framework of the government. Hitler succeeded Hindenberg on the old man’s death in 1934, abolishing the presidency and creating the new position of Fuhrer.

It didn’t work out well for Germany.

With the party of Lincoln imploding while its orange glam queen candidate campaigns on a platform of woman-shaming, scapegoating and hatred, threatening to jail his opponent if he wins, all the while inciting supporters with talk of conspiracies and a rigged election if he doesn’t, Trump’s church basket of half-baked buns are calling for armed revolution.

The Christian Right would put questions about Bill Cosby’s birth certificate aside and support him over Hypocrite Hillary if he guaranteed them their Supreme Court seats. Clearly, it’s time for ‘people of real faith’ to put the country’s well-being ahead of the narrow viewpoint coming out of this vocal, unhinged fringe element.

The world hopes it works out better for America than it did in Germany and that the people who never tire of telling the rest of us that they live in the greatest country on the globe live up to their own exalted billing at the ballot box on November 8.

Edging Trump in a close race isn’t an option. His dirty laundry basket of racist, misogynist, hate mongering, un-Christian crazies has to be tipped over and scattered to the winds of political history in a landslide.

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What’s new Pussygate?

 

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The New York Daily news headline writers are praying for a Trump victory in November.

Just when you thought the U.S. election coverage couldn’t get any smarmier CNN outdid itself with a three-shower Friday night shit show that left even casual viewers feeling soiled and in need of a sponge bath.

With hundreds dead in Haiti and hurricane force winds blasting the south Atlantic coast and the streets of Florida’s cities flooding, sending millions of Americans scurrying for cover, the network news hounds spent the night baying for the blood of an evil pussy-grabbing clown.

And who could blame them, really. Pussy trumps run-of-the-mill disaster footage every time. (Pun intended.)

On the day the draft of Hypocrite Hillary’ s two-faced speech to the bankers was finally leaked, her mango-flavoured, ferret-topped opponent stole her thunder with a decade-old command video performance, a disturbing sexist tape recorded on route to his appearance on a television soap opera with the weasel cousin and nephew of two former Republican presidents egging him on.

This stuff is so good Ferret-top’s role model and e-mail hacking election ally, Vladimir Putin, can barely tear himself away from his flat screen TV long enough to order more genocide in Aleppo, the city of suffering that became a social media punchline when  Libertarian presidential candidate Gary Johnson stared blankly at an interviewer and said, “What’s an Aleppo?”

Seriously, folks. What’s an Aleppo when you’ve got important things to cover, like Ferret-top talking about his failed attempt to ‘fuck’ a married Palm Beach socialite by coming onto her ‘very heavily’ with a trip to a furniture store. “How about this nice day bed, babe. We could do it in the back of the truck on the way home.” As the tape winds on, we learn his bitchin’ desire for her has waned somewhat because her new store-bought tits look too phony. This from a man who layers 15-inch strands of orange-lacquer over his bald spot every morning before slathering on a pound of fake tan gunk.

We find out on the tape that you can get away with the aging glam queen look when you have the kind of self-acclaimed, tic-tacky star power that makes every woman’s ‘pussy’ available to your touch, whether invited or not.

You’ve got to hand it to Americans. They know how to put on an election and they don’t give a shit if you have to send the kids out of the room to watch.

At one point in the CNN coverage two of the female talking heads, Anna Navarro, a no-longer-proud Republican strategist, and Trump sycophant Scottie Nell Hughes,  yelled at each other over the propriety of Navarro repeating the word pussy on a prime time news show.

Sycophant Scottie, who flaunts her love affair with Christ nightly with a cross that dangles conspicuously for the cameras to catch, objected to Navarro repeating the word pussy because her daughter was watching the show. This got Navarro’s Latin blood up since only moments before Nell Hughes had defended the man she’s touting for President for using the p-word in the explicit tape that CNN was repeating every 15 minutes, dismissing it as locker room banter. Even though Ferret-top was 59 at the time of the sexist tape, Nell Hughes seemed to infer that boys will be boys.

And boy oh boy, everyone knows Republican old boys—Rush, Rudy, and Newt–like their pussy, especially when it doesn’t belong to their current wives.

With Grand Old Party stalwarts frantically tweeting their disgust in hopes of distancing themselves from Ferret-top’s badly listing ship of deplorable fools, and the Trump family–the slicked back, dim-witted duo and daddy’s hot girl Ivanka–fighting it out over damage control strategy in the gleaming tower that bears the family’s depreciating brand, CNN further titillated viewers with ‘breaking news’ banners announcing Ferret-top’s upcoming apology video.

After 12 hours of strategizing, the pussy-grabbing billionaire appeared on the TV screen in an in-house video with the production values of a 12-year-old’s birthday party, shot by uncle Albert on a first generation Huawei cell phone. He stared defiantly into the camera in a poorly lit room with a fake cityscape backdrop, his angry red face taking on a purplish hue under the orange fake tan, and read off an apology that had all the sincerity of a hostage video, before launching into an attack on Hillary for enabling Bill Clinton’s sexual depredations, which he deemed much worse than merely talking about uninvited pussy grabbing.

Is that background noise hurricane-related or is it Republican presidents Grant and Lincoln spinning in their graves? Or maybe it’s the whir from Ferret-top’s running partner’s head spinning as the ‘man-of-faith’ struggles to reconcile his funerals-for -aborted-fetuses proposal and homosexual therapy theory with the merits of extra-marital humping and uninvited pussy grabbing. But Pence shouldn’t be too worried about losing the election; he’ll never be out of work as long as Mr. Clean needs a double.

Meanwhile, CNN anchors amped up the intrigue, speculating about the timing of the tape’s release, two days before the debate. Ferret-top’s sycophants pointed their pivot fingers at the Clinton camp but this political junkie thinks the evil clown may have pulled a diabolical Machiavellian fast one by leaking the tape himself. Nobody’s talking about his taxes anymore.

The country that gave the world Hollywood and Disneyland has turned this historic PG-rated election into entertainment for the entire world with something for everyone—sex, comedy, politics, mystery, show biz and dirty talk mixed in with Christian values–everyone except for the kids of course.

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What the hell happened?

 

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From Lincoln to this…what the hell happened!

Watching the U.S. election coverage makes a believer in democracy wring his hands and run for the shower while wondering how the great experiment in governance by the people for the people has gone so far off the rails.

Nightly immersion in the media cesspool is like wallowing in a fetid mental mud hole. It’s like being addicted to reruns of Mob Wives or Keeping Up with the Kardashians or consuming a steady TV diet of My 600 Pound Life. Hour after hour. Night after night. It leaves a grimy coating on the brain.

It wasn’t always so.

In 1868, the Republicans dumped the incumbent Andrew Johnson, who took over when Abraham Lincoln was rewarded with a bullet for leading the nation through its bloody internal upheaval. The Grand Old Party drafted the man hailed as the saviour of the Union in his place, Civil War hero General Ulysses S. Grant.

A brilliant military tactician who drove Union armies in relentless pursuit of the rebel forces tearing the country asunder, the chain cigar-smoking General was a humble man who before the war had once been reduced to selling firewood on street corners to feed his family.

He accepted the GOP’s invitation to head the 1868 ticket on the condition that he would not campaign. Grant viewed electioneering as unseemly. A man of few carefully chosen words, he disdained political speech-making, preferring to let the Republican campaign theme—Let Us Have Peace–spread his view across the war-weary land.

Grant had seen firsthand what happens when a divided country stops buying into majority rules, with a generation of America’s sons buried in makeshift graves and lame and maimed survivors returned home forever altered by the horror of what they experienced.

He governed so well during the crucial Reconstruction Era, championing the rights of the newly freed black population while soothing the embittered South, that he was elected for a second term, even after infuriating Republican insiders by rejecting party politics in making independent cabinet appointments. He respectively declined Republican calls to run for a then-allowable third term.

Fast forward 140 years to the digital media age. What the hell happened?

Hillary Clinton’s campaign recently announced an outstanding fundraising month in September—$150 million, most of which will be spent on TV ads trashing her opponent in the month remaining. She says she needs it because the Donald is threatening to throw $50 million of his own ‘tax-free-smart-money’ into his election pot to piss on his opponent.

The media loves it. And why not? The 2016 election makes Real Housewives of New Jersey look like Leave it to Beaver. It’s the biggest grossing (no pun intended) reality TV show in history and the 24-hour news networks get all their content free.

On the one side, we have historic Hillary the hypocrite, an advocate for all women except the ones who accuse her husband of coercion and sexual assault. That class of woman—lowly ‘cabaret singer’ Jennifer Flowers, whose ‘love’ for the married governor got her life scrutinized by private detectives looking for dirt; Arkansas government worker Paula Jones, who Bill paid $850,000 without admitting guilt; and the naïve campaign worker willing to donate her time but not her body to hubby’s election campaigns—are not Hillary’s kind.

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Bill Clinton portrait at the Smithsonian in Washington DC

Not to mention Monica Lewinsky, the White House intern a few years older than her precious daughter, whose life she was willing to ruin until DNA evidence proved what she already knew—that Bill was a serial philanderer, a sex pervert and a shameless liar.

After all, the Left’s political power couple had already faced down a special prosecutor while brazening their way through the Whitewater financial scandal that resulted in jail terms for friends and business partners Jim and Susan McDougal.

Then there was the time in the late 70s when Hillary, then First Lady of Arkansas, who had no history or expertise on the stock market, turned a $1,000 investment into $100,000 trading cattle futures over a 10-month period, ostensibly with the guidance of the chief counsel to Tyson Foods, the state’s largest employer. At the time, the cash-strapped Clinton’s combined annual income was $58,000. When later revealed, the eye-popping windfall raised eyebrows but no government investigation.

As it turns out, the stock market profiteering was chump change compared to the hundreds of thousands of dollars she got for a single speech to the Wall Street bankers she’s vowed to reign in when she becomes President. You’d think a speech that got parsimonious bankers to dig so deep would be something to be proud of but Hillary refused to release a transcript despite repeated requests from her Democratic nomination rival Bernie Sanders.

Meanwhile, her 2016 podium partner Bill has been staying busy post-Presidency. While Hillary was Secretary of State, he managed a photo-op with Vladimir Putin after getting $500,000 to broker a deal to help the Russians corner the uranium market, the same Putin U.S. officials labeled a thug and a kleptomaniac. The beneficiary of that deal later donated millions to the Clinton Foundation.

But Putin seems like a good guy compared to another of Bill’s running buddies, billionaire and registered sex offender Jeffrey Epstein, who lawyered a sweetheart deal and served 13 months for soliciting a 14-year-old prostitute. Bill cut ties with Jeffrey before he had his day in court but not before earning frequent flyer points on Epstein’s private jet, dubbed the Lolita Express, which reportedly had a large bed aboard for the passengers’ in-flight entertainment. Not to worry Hillary, Bill says he did not have sex with those underage women.

And these are the good guys on this reality show.

Hillary’s nemesis, Donald “if-his-lips-are-moving-he’s-lying” Trump, is the reality show’s villain and star attraction, an aging evil clown with pursed pussy lips. Manhattan’s answer to what happens when you give a vulgar misogynist with low intelligence and a short attention span too much inherited money.

Think WWF showboat Gorgeous George in a suit and an extra-long tie to camouflage his reputed shortcomings, an orange-tinted, overweight blowhard with a ferret on his head travelling the country with a greasy, obsequious entourage. And that’s just the grown kids.

Complete the story-line with a trophy wife who glides at his side with the fake self-awareness learned on fashion catwalks, a high maintenance model closer in age to his older sons, who in a not so subtle effort to differentiate themselves from the alpha male in the family, wear custom corporate suits with shorter ties and slick their hair back like the bad guys on Miami Vice. That the wife at least once overcame her physical revulsion to the aged patriarch is borne out by the Donald’s youngest son, appropriately named Baron.

Completing the familial package are two daughters, the oldest of which is whip smart and attractive enough to be a Playboy model, and as her father creepily points out, somebody he might have dated if she wasn’t his daughter.

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They grow up so fast….

Her prominent position in the family business is often cited as an example of the Donald’s respect for women, though it is more likely her intelligence so overshadows the dullness of the slicked-back sons that the businessman in the Donald won out over his misogyny, at least when it comes to family.

The younger daughter, born out of wedlock in the wake of a well-publicized affair with future trophy wife number two, makes grudging appearances on the show when she can tear herself away from the New York party scene.

Trumps seeming strategy is to tell so many lies, insult so many people and issue so many over the top proclamations that detractors will be overwhelmed by the material at hand. The short list includes:

*Responding to the numerous corporate bankruptcies that left hundreds of small businesses and tradesmen who did work for Trump companies footing the bill, the Donald boasted that it was good business and that he was smart enough to get out on time

*He launched his campaign at America’s bigots by singling out illegal immigrants from Mexico and other Latin American countries, most of whom work hard at low-paying jobs Americans won’t do, some of them for Trump companies, calling them drug dealers, criminals and rapists.

*He has vowed to kick out 11 million men, women and children (the Syrian refugee crisis pales in comparison) and proclaimed when he becomes king he’ll build a high wall thousands of miles long to keep out the riffraff and make Mexican taxpayers pay for it. No word on if he’ll use his self-proclaimed negotiating skills to make the Mexican government ban ladders south of the border.

*Trump tried to make political hay with his bushel of deplorable followers in the aftermath of a mass shooting in a gay nightclub by calling for a ban on Muslims entering the country, ignoring the fact that such an edict is unconstitutional and against the principles of a nation founded on the concept of religious freedom. His take on the Orlando tragedy curried favour with the powerful National Rifle Association. ‘Things would have been different if club-goers were wearing ankle holsters’, he said.

*The man who wants to lead the nation and by de facto become a role model for its children, told the largest Presidential Debate audience in history, 80-odd million citizens who pay the country’s bills, that not paying taxes is smart, leaving those who pay their share to ponder whether they are patriotic or plain stupid.

*Trump University, an ‘educational establishment’ you might expect to find advertised on the back cover of comic books or on late night TV infomercials, is being sued in a class action law suit by thousands of disgruntled students who allege they were charged exorbitant fees for information they could have got for free online. After unfavourable rulings in civil court Trump claimed the American-born judge hearing the case is biased because of his Mexican heritage.

*Responding to accusations of misogyny Trump bizarrely brought comedian Rosie O’Donnell into the Presidential Debate, claiming he was justified in calling her a fat slob because nobody likes her. When his treatment of a former Miss Universe winner was brought up, a woman he once called ‘an eating machine’, the man who aspires to the world’s most powerful job stayed up late tweeting insults about her, calling her disgusting and falsely claiming she appeared in a sex tape.

In the ensuing furor, he called upon his unsavory lickspittles to shine up his image. Former New York mayor Rudy Giuliani, an unrepentant serial philanderer who turned the tragedy of 9/11 into a lucrative speaking career, pivoted with a finger pointed at Bill Clinton’s infidelities. When asked about his own marital indiscretions, he admitted that adultery is no big deal because everybody does it.

Meanwhile, Republican ‘family values’ stalwart Newt Gingrich, whose litany of extramarital affairs and profligate spending on mistresses are well-documented, took to the hustings to mock the former Miss Universe’s weight gain. “It was a beauty pageant,” said portly Newt.

Not surprisingly, this tacky twosome has six marriages between them.

With disdain for the women voters the candidate is wooing, the Trump campaign brought on as a consultant disgraced Fox News boss Roger Ailes, who resigned his job earlier in the year in the wake of multiple accusations of sexual harassment that resulted in the network paying $20 million to one complainant.

Did I already say you can’t make this stuff up?

Political analysts point at maps with blue and red states while pontificating on the percentages of various voting blocs the candidates need to win. They tells us without irony that the ‘United’ States is divided into black voters, Hispanic voters, other less important people of colour, college educated white women, college educated white men, blue collar white voters, millennials and baby boomers, the Christian Right (as opposed to the Christian Left?), Muslims, citizens who live in Rust Belt states, seniors in rust-free southern retirement states, the military and so on.

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An undecided voter ponders the choices

With polls showing record disapproval ratings for both candidates, the Presidential hopefuls are focusing their personal energies and insults in the handful of battleground states that will decide which of these unpopular choices will win the election by default, tailoring their messages according to the latest polls.

If the Donald needs to shore up his weak showing with blacks, a visit to a black Detroit church is sandwiched into his schedule. When Hillary’s numbers with young voters need buttressing, the campaign trots out Bernie and slots in a college campus. That pandering to polls is an obvious insult to voter intelligence seems not to factor in.

While the candidates fly hither and thither, there is no shortage of sycophantic surrogates eager to mouth up to network microphones to further insult voters’ intelligence by telling them that black is white, or white is black, depending on which way the political poll wind is blowing on any given day.

Even without notes from their respective doctors (one of whom, in keeping with the over-the-top script, is a hen-pecked Park Avenue gastro with a suspicious penchant for Donald-like hyperbolic diagnostics), the months spent fighting this dirty uncivil war leave no doubt about the stamina of either of these trust-challenged senior citizens. The real question is: Will they have anything left for the job of commander-in-chief?

With a month still to go, this well-showered, disillusioned, self-admitted reality TV political junkie, looks longingly to November 9.

In the words of General Grant—Let Us Have Peace.

A Gun Too Far

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When are Americans going to get their collective heads out of their ample arses and admit their unhealthy love affair with guns is ending badly?

Gun lovers who cite the Second Amendment as justification for owning military-style arsenals have their heads buried so deeply the excrement has seeped into their brains.

The right to bear arms was enshrined in the constitution almost 250 years ago, in a century when the most prolific killing machine was a musket that required complex reloading after every shot.

When the founding fathers envisioned that an armed citizenry would act as a check on tyrants who might want to impose their will against the wishes of the majority, they weren’t thinking about assault rifles. Citing this tired Second Amendment argument in the 21st Century brings to mind Obama’s reply during the 2012 election campaign when his Republican opponent noted that the U.S. Navy had fewer ships than it did in the early 1900s. Obama wryly noted that the army also had fewer rifles with bayonets.

It’s going to take more than assault rifles to overthrow tyrants in the New Millennium. Fast forward a decade or two to a President determined to make America great again by restricting religious freedom, building walls around ghettos, monitoring its citizens electronically, muzzling unfavourable press and silencing all opinion, by force if necessary, that doesn’t comply with his vision, whether the majority likes it or not.
Think Donald Trump’s evil illegitimate child.

Picture this. Righteous freedom-lovers in the year 2040 organize on social media, gather their assault rifles and load up on ammunition before meeting in a stadium for an assault on Washington. NRA organizers pepper the clouds with bullets to hype the assembled 50-thousand dues-paying gun owners only to see their heaven-sent projectiles bounce off a shower of incoming hell-fire missiles launched from drones 10,000 feet above.

Information is the weapon of choice for today’s tyrants, backed by serious killing power that makes assault rifles as ineffectual as their single shot forerunners with fixed bayonets. The tyrants have nuclear weapons.

Where were the constitution-citing blowhards when the patriot Edward Snowden revealed the American government’s ability and willingness to spy on its own citizenry without benefit of warrant? He delivered his message at great personal cost: the government is spying on you, turning your cellphones into microphones and your computers into cameras.

Think about the implications.

The evil, illegitimate Donald Trump spawn can track your every move: when you go, where you go, who you talk to. And he can do it in real time.

Snowden was largely ignored by an apathetic populace. Instead of being revered by defenders of the constitution, he was labelled a traitor. Monitor everything we do 24/7 but don’t mess with our guns.

Do you seriously want Donald Trump’s sinister love-child having that kind of hold on you, or worse, a bitter overweight bureaucrat behind a desk in a bunker buried in a mountain? You can’t get to him no matter how many bullets a minute your assault rifle shoots.

The Democrats, under the stewardship of Obama, a former constitutional law professor, enlarged on policies implemented by the Bush administration in the hysteria that followed 911, even killing American citizens who have never been charged with a crime or had their day in court, citing national security concerns when asked by grieving family for proof of guilt.

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Without a hint of irony, NRA lapdogs in government drape themselves in the constitution while citing the remote possibility of citizens being mistakenly denied their Second Amendment right to carry assault rifles. Their argument (seriously folks) is that mistakes can be made on a no-fly list, thereby temporarily denying the gun-owner his right to pack.
And everybody knows the government makes mistakes.

Americans wring their hands at the latest cop-shooting, or in the cases of Dallas or Baton Rouge, deranged men killing police officers with assault rifles. TV talking heads look gravely into the camera while telling a weary, fearful public about another mass murder in Dallas, or Orlando, or San Bernardino or Sandy Hook.

Bad guys will always get guns, say the gun-lovers, so good guys need to arm themselves in self defense. People are the problem, they say. Bad people. Crazy people. Orlando would have been different if the club-goers were carrying, says the Donald, calling for ankle holsters for the nightclub crowd.

There is no stopping someone intent on carnage in a culture that reveres guns, in a country that makes it easier to get an assault rifle than a license to drive a car. There is no peace of mind in a nation where troubled teenagers can reach into dad’s closet for a deadly weapon, no sanctuary in a gun-satiated society where drugged out criminals can steal lethal killing machines from almost any home.

No one seems to connect the fact that cops kill so many Americans because they’re scared crapless every time they make a routine traffic stop or attend a domestic disturbance. To a jittery cop in gun-lover land, every person reaching for a wallet or cell phone, white, black, Hispanic or Asian, teenager or senior citizen, is a potential, armed cop killer.

While the percentage of cop shootings is disproportionately high for non-whites make no mistake, the cops shoot every shade, and more white people than anybody else.

It’s time Americans pull their heads out, dislodge the fecal material from their mouths, eyes and ears and demand their political lapdogs stop licking the NRA’s encrusted rump. It’s time to revisit an outdated constitutional amendment that made sense centuries ago but is far too dangerous in a society rife with unhinged malcontents.

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