Incomprehensible horrors to the republic. Incalculable bellicosity and warmongering as a platform, scheduled and crafter and scripted by necocon think tanks. You will rue this day. You will not be able to reclaim that which you’ve squandered. Behold the media’s infantilism and “journalistic” autonepiophilia. But I digress . . . enjoy this aural selection and amuse-bouche.
Take a gander infra. Go ahead. This is monumentally amazing for even the mildly sentient. Why? Because the mainstream media have covered absolutely nothing of the matter. A worldwide story of indescribable import and it’s ignored altogether because the information contained therein is embarrassing to the Clinton regime.
“I know she has begun to hate everyday Americans.”
“Kenneth, what is the frequency?”
The Trump legacy in meme. Add this Trump trope metaphor, metonymy, synecdoche, and irony. The #MAGA mayhem. All that counts and all that’s remembered. The holier-than-thou moral certitude of every two bit political hack wannabe spewing and spraying posts with their definitive word on Herr Drumpf. Mindlessly uncomplicated as to an event but too hard for the moral certitude experts to let go. God, I love this country. Hillary Clinton is your next POTUS. Not because of this, but because always bet on the Clintons.
And complicit in such is the bought and sold corporate media in the bag and tank for Madame Hillary. It’s far from an exaggeration, it’s true. Absolutely true. It’s discussed herein.
Lionel on Radio New Zealand. Get a load of this beaut. The Nights programme. (Note the hip Kiwi spelling.)
He’s throwing the election. You know it. And so do I. With an opponent as horrid and profoundly corrupt as Hillary Clinton with the steamer trunk baggage that she has, you mean to tell me Trump’s resorted to his petulant and juvenescent brand of fat shaming name-calling as a legitimate vehicle of campaigning? No, Sparky, he’s throwing the election. The fix is in.
This mesmerizes me. The perfect allegory and metaphor for the voting process. We’re lured by its promise as was this now very dead and bloated and decomposing New York Hell’s Kitchen rat. We’re hungry for not change but improvement and we’re being baited and tempted by an inviting promise. Look, someone has left food for me. Look, they are asking me for my opinion, my vote. They care about what I think and believe. I have a say; my input matters! This system invites for my input and my perception and my desires and worldview.
You’re kidding. To think, Hillary surrogate Howard Dean, a seasoned professional and actual medical doctor actually accused Donald Trump of snorting coke by virtue of his incessant sniffling during his first debate. A man who has stated publicly and emphatically that he has not had a sip of alcohol or indulged in any type of illicit drug especially in view of his own family’s personal history anent substance abuse. But that didn’t seem to bother or affect Dr. Dean. It’s not only shameful, it’s unbelievable.
“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.
Voting? Did you say something about voting? Others did and have and will. Masturbatory musings as we came a beeline for oblivion. Make way for Mr. & Mrs. Nobody. The pageantry of the putz. And debates are cotillions and debutante balls for the illusion of involvement. But, I digress. Enjoy this podcast of the psychology of the vote.
“The people who cast the votes don’t decide an election, the people who count the votes do.” — Ioseb Besarionis dze Jughashvili
Even the term lies is a euphemism. It doesn’t even come close. But I think you know that. At least, I hope you know that. I discuss herein.
Virtual flashing and hi-tech adultery. Yes, Anthony Weiner, the human punchline. I know he’s a joke and pathetic but we must review how his case will rewrite the law as, per Lionel’s law, the law always lags behind technology. I discuss herein.
