IT'S-A HARD KNOCK LIFE

I had the thought this morning that we are all orphans and Trump is Miss Hannigan.

364 days a year we are abused and neglected and then one day a year, on Election Day, suddenly it’s Christmas and we get all the cake and candy that we can eat.

And then, the very next day, it’s right back to the Hard Knock Life, back into our grimy tunics where the best that we can do is mop, moan and belt out show stoppers.

Just like Miss Hannigan, Trump (of the Mansion Family) pours the very same kind of toxic sludge that he has reintroduced, via Scott Pruitt, to our environment, all over our tender hearts and educated minds.

And just like that, once again we feel victimized, helpless, panicked.

Orphaned.

I have always felt that both politics and organized religion provides us with the holy fathers and mothers that we have lost who read us beautiful, simple, morality tales, and when we closed our fluttering, tucked in eyes, we were kissed and told that everything was going to be miraculously okay.

Now there is nothing wrong with that, given how horribly unfair and painful life can be. How many children have been gun slaughtered over the last few weeks?

Look, however, you get your comfort, whether it’s through sermons or by eating an entire package of those Hawaiian rolls that explode into red smoke in old ladies faces, more power to you.

I have long been warning you of the Day of Roycohning that is coming. For those who might have missed my rant, Trump was trained by the single worst human being on earth during the 1950s, Roy Cohn, whose entire modus operandi was the equivalent of shoving a handicapped child down ten flights of stairs. It was all about attack and destroy by wearing down your opponent with a flurry of beneath the belt kicks and punches and once you were down it was all about kicks to the head and electrocution.

I encourage you to head to Google and read about him. This was your President’s role model. From there you will totally get the origin Miss Hannigan 2018.

On one level, what you have been participating in, since 2015, is the story of an illiterate, talentless, heartless con man/sexual predator, who had failed at every single business that he was ever in, who was able to stay afloat via the bailout million dollar loans that were floated to him via his Sugar Daddy, daddy, by writing off spectacular debt, while borrowing heavily from enemies of this country but most importantly by creating a myth for himself that he sold like snake oil to the those with the pre-existing condition of blind faith.

America loves its bigger than life heroes because they are the living embodiment of American mythological perfection.

In the worst of times, especially during wars, they were delivered to us from high atop Mount Hollywood. It was either John Wayne cowboys or Frank Capra Everymen like Jimmy Stewart or Henry Fonda. We, the audience did as much projection as any movie projector could onto that silver screen. We unpacked all our anxieties and worries and turned them into 35mm film. And we still do it, via The Rock, Marvel and DC superheroes and Tom Hanks. And Walter White. Saul Goodman. And Tony Soprano. And Donald Trump.

To me, Trump is closest to John Wayne, Mr. Tough Guy Conservative, who never saw a day of warfare, but showed us how tough he was by wiping out indigenous people.

He made a slings and arrow fortune doing it.

That whole Humphrey Bogart, John Huston, John Ford hard-nosed tough guy thing was all a chain-smoking, two-fisted illusion but to American men they were models of dominating perfection and to women, who were long taught to be submissive, they were the models of take-charge guys who could ravish you in the sack and then get you to fry up a steak right after while you lit their cigarettes and poured a stiff scotch with your third hand.

Which brings me to that now infamous, day after the elections, rambling, Commander Queeg, news conference which was highlighted by strawberry blather, racism, the attack of a reporter who was doing his Constitutional protected job, and a Trump-style military parade of flamboyant, goose-stepping lies.

Because here is the fact, Jack. Despite all the gerrymandering and voter fraud perpetrated by the GOP, we had the biggest blue wave in over 40 years. You do know that we took control the House now, right? And despite Trump’s campaign to treat women like whipped dogs, 100 women came to power which includes an openly gay Native American and two Muslim women and other men and women of color.

The fact is, when it comes to the popular vote, the Democrats ALWAYS win. It’s the map tampering and all those lost votes and suddenly faulty machines that help the bad guys win.

It always comes down to some tiny, insignificant rural white township, that holds all the meaningful votes. The Dems ALWAYS get the popular vote. You don’t have to graduate from the Electoral College to figure that one out.

The GOP today is nothing more than a Game of Thrones wall of old white men, with the morality and good looks of Ted Cruz, who simply want to profit by pretending that they are following your prophet, Mr. Christ, which of course none of them are. They use that image, like piously praying before a debate where they could not be less Christian right after.

Gullible America only wants one thing: to stop evolution. They do not want to give up their guns, their prejudices, their man-woman marriages. They love living in their literal, honey get me a beer, man caves. I often say that it’s the U.S. not “Us.” But today patriotism is all about self-entitlement. My God. My beliefs. My needs. My wants. Rallies, which you partially pay for (so how smart are you?) are nothing more than a convention of clueless, manipulated, dancing dwarves, who are all headed over the cliff into the field of Rye.

Like OJ, another man of color, DJ gets away with murder, because he is one of those rare people in America who gets a hall pass for bad behavior, like spousal abuse, because he is the winner of the Myth America Pageant and Americans, as stated earlier, crave their myths as much as they do food and oxygen. If he is a winner he can either make us a winner too or simply obliterate any of the heathens that keep us from living our own, unique brand of racist Christianity.

And now Humpty Trumpty, who is about to have a Make America Great fall, thanks to the imminent indictment of his son, Oil Slick, Jr, is turning white right having a party melt-down right before our very eyes.

The irony is, this is all SO Hollywood. This is The Orange Face in the Crowd. Mr. Know-it-all who gets away with murder at everyone’s expense finally gets exposed on national television and winds up a lonely, screaming, baby wretch, screaming “Marsha!!! Marsha!!!”

He is Hubris Humphrey too. The Greeks forewarned you about hubris. But did you listen?

DJ’s last Johnny Cochran move is to make Matt Whitaker the new Attorney General. It was, at this Saturday Night Massacre back in the seventies, when even the GOP had enough of Nixon.

But the GOP today is embodied by the likes of Lindsay Graham, who just moved from Holy Hell to Pay, Washington to downtown Fellatio, who have no trouble trying to stop an impartial, ruin by a Republican, honored war hero, investigation which we all know the results of, simply by how hard Trump is trying to stop it.

Any truly innocent man would welcome the opportunity to exonerate himself.

What does he have to fear?

The truth shall set you free.

Yeah.

Not in this church.