I could look it up to be sure and look all smart, but who cares? Anyway, I woke up to find that the American electorate had just re-upped Bill for-god’s-sake Clinton. And although it’s true the other team had found itself a masterpiece of “my turn now” bad casting to run against him, and that none of it mattered anyway, I could not believe that many people could possibly be that stupid all on the same day. I don’t make vows often, but I recall making a vow right then and there that I would never again underestimate the stupidity of the American voting public.
Two years earlier, our saviors the republicans had won their fondest dreams in the mid-term. Oh, they took it all, leaving Clinton high and dry and apparently doomed. Of course they promptly reneged on their every promise – same as in 2010 – and of course the “revolution” leaders promptly melted down.
And of course, if you find politics important, the second Clinton term was a disaster. It was a dark time for the Rebellion, boy.
And of course the world continued to turn. America is a big place, and it tends to absorb its disasters and get on with life.
I awake this morning to the news that the republic has fallen. The Big O has his flexibility now, bitter clingers are being publicly beheaded in stadiums, the sky is raining frogs and fire. Yeah, this time we’re really doomed.
Except we’re not, because it doesn’t matter.
Oh, I don’t deny for a moment that The Boss is capable of completely horking up the economy – he’s proven that. And no doubt his previously-hidden brownshirt armies will emerge from their dank subterranean lairs, revive themselves on the blood of Christian virginity, and lay waste to all that is good and holy. I dunno, maybe this time they really will.
Fine. Bring it on. Whatever. But in the meantime the chickens want out of their coop. Little Bear has wrapped his cable around his favorite tree again, and there’s fresh bread for breakfast. Same as always. Because I don’t care what these bozos do. To whatever extent I can, I’ve separated myself from them and I plan to stay separated.
So if Barry is even now busily bringing on the apocalypse, I hope he at least makes it a good one. People have been confidently assuring me it’s right around the corner since the sixties, and I’m sick of all this breathless waiting.
But really, I suspect the sun will continue to rise and set.