Ladies and gentleman, take my advice: pull down your pants, and slide on the ice–take a chill pill!
Though a brother of shaky faith, and having been raised a Catholic man nonetheless, I know as well as the next future pontiff the story cited in John 7:8 of Gideons Old Testament: Jesus of Nazareth (not to be confused with Jesus of Nogales, Nogales not to be confused with ‘no nalgas’) interrupted a group of local gentry of incidental leisure and scarce means, who were about to stone to death a woman suspected of adultery.
In her defense, Jesus did suggest that ‘he who is without sin, let him cast the first stone.’ The people did reflect on their own demise as sinners, and one by one they let their stones fall, and dispersed.
Where am I going with this? I’m going to France, because there’s a place in France, where the alligators dance, and the girls go around, with their breeches upside down. Nonsense? Yes; utter. Pointless? Oh, absolutely!
The near craze over mudslinging at the pre-presidential level is driving us to near utter lunacy. The mudslinging, since the founding of our nation, has traditionally stopped once the electoral process reached a verdict. Look how many weeks have gone by since Donnie Trump got elected (or sentenced) and the muck is still very much airborne!
What we are hearing is, that droves of influential persons in the US are ‘targeted’ and subsequently ‘cultivated’ by Russia with kompromat, or compromising information, with intent to (potentially) use it to discredit or compromise the individual. All this, to an end of exerting a tighter grip of reflexive control (cue diabolical music chord).
“Reflexive what?” Read Jack McMurph’s latest article: Reflexive Control, but be warned to have a little something in your stomach before you do, as it is a bit of a heavy lift.
Here’s my take on the dossier ambush on Don Trump: first of all, ooooo… a dossier!! Well, all of those quixotic allegations must be true because they are in a dossier. I mean, if something in English doesn’t sound sexy enough, use the French word. A dossier is a (BKSE) phuqing folder. Yessirree-bob, we gots us proof and evidence that Trump is a chump, right here is his dossy-phuqin-ayyyy!
Ok let’s say I’m a five-year-old child, and I have been instructed to produce damning evidence against the PEOTUS (every time I see that acronym my mind says peyote [buttons]…). Okay, real estate; Tump is a real estate mogul so: ‘Trump was offered cool-guy real estate deals in Russia!’ Sounds legit. Except for one flaw: the deals are in RUSSIA! I personally purchased a fixer-upper there. It’s really time-consuming, but a labor of love, plus you don’t need ceiling fans that far north of the Equator.
Next: sex. Totally believable; all God’s chillins’ have at least one sexual transgression accusation against them. Hence the hullabaloo, the rumor of a golden shower. Again it sounds legit. Except that having weird sex in some bed is not actually against the law in Russia or in most of the United States. Even if that hail Mary were true, it is nothing worse than anything Wild Willy Clinton did; but just don’t lie about it if it is true, and you’ll be fine, Don.
Random thought: in South America, would Mr. Trump be addressed as ‘Don Don’? –think about it; it’s freakin’ me out, man!!
Mudslinging isn’t even creative anymore. As the only Delta puke on the staff, I can cite that Unit brothers typically lost their status in the Unit for violation of one of the ‘Three Bs’; that is: Booze, Broads, and Bucks. Those are likely the three most typical reasons that heterosexual men fail.
Hetero-breeders are the ones who pee in bathrooms at the seafood restaurant with the picture of the Buoy on the door, while the females pee in the room with the picture of the (sea)Gull on the door, with all others of inconsequent penchant standing between the two door wetting themselves. Get it, buoys and gulls??
Recovering from my digression: men typically lose status for transgressions with regard to their (poor) management of alcohol, women, and money. Then, in my paradigm model of celebrity defaming, designed by my five-year-old self, I slap on accusations of infidelity with the Mrs., greediness in the real estate field, and to round it all out, perhaps I can say he was drunk for the real estate deal and the sex.
Is this all not really the most asinine and flippant thing you have ever read? It sounds like a child wrote it. Well I did say that it is my version of a the product of a five yo’s mind, that I did.
I submit to you that if you reverse-engineer the multitude of sins with which Trump is blamed, according his great and powerful dossier behind the curtain that Carol Merrill is showing us… you will find the reasoning drifts wildly from the deductive ‘did-hit data’ to the more allusive and inductive ‘should-hit data.’
Brothers and sisters, I implore you… D. Trump is in a pristine position at present to turn to Russia and render a sound: “Nanny nanny boo-boo, what you say bounces off me and sticks to you! That, or go have a Schweppes and get on with his preferable POTUS planning.
The sky is not falling just yet, Chicken Little. I think it’s high time astronaut Dave Bowman sits down calmly, takes a stress pill, and thinks things over, to the tune of the HAL 9000 computer singing “Daisy, Daisy, giiive meeee yoooooour aaannnswerrrrrr doooooooooooooooooo…)
(Featured Image courtesy of ScienceOntheWeb.com)
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