OK, like many Americans today, I’m wondering what the hell happened yesterday, and what does it mean for the near future, at least four years of a Donald Trump presidency, and with a GOP House and Senate for a minimum of two of those years. The wildest wet dreams of the American right might be flung at the wall just to see what will stick. And the only defense the rest of us have is the Democratic Party -- impotent, timid, and devoid of ideas.
I watched Democracy Now for three hours last night, as one state after another went for Trump, but I was still hopeful that Trump would be defeated. Not, mind you, because I supported Hillary Clinton -- I voted for Jill Stein -- but because I held to the belief that my fellow Americans were not so stupid as to cast their votes for a buffoon. By the time I called it a night and went to bed, the election was undecided, but around 12:30 a.m., my wife woke me to tell me that Trump had won 279 electoral votes and the election.
I was awake for the next couple of hours, feeling sick to my stomach. When I woke this morning I thought perhaps that I had dreamed that Trump had won, but then I checked my iPhone and knew that it was no dream.
Obviously, I gave my fellow citizens too much credit. I have said before, many times, that the American electorate is intellectually challenged, easily duped, fooled, hoodwinked, led around by their noses -- a typical west coast liberal attitude to which I plead guilty. For months I never took Donald Trump seriously, assuming he would self-implode, which he did, but the shocking thing is that it didn’t make a damn bit of difference. Why?
That’s the question, isn’t it?
Over the past two years, ever since Trump declared his candidacy, the American corporate media has given the Great Buffoon a free pass to say whatever outrageous, obnoxious and false thing that popped into his orange head. He could threaten to deport millions, build a wall along the US-Mexican border -- a ridiculous idea -- offend women, the disabled, refuse to release his income tax returns, and the lapdog corporate media ate it up and let it roll, knowing that Trump brought eyeballs to screens, a virtual money machine for the networks.
Who cared if Trump ranted like a mental patient; he was money in the morning, money at night.
I have no sympathy for Hillary Clinton and the Democratic Party because they got the match-up they wanted, Hillary vs. Trump, and they got beat down. All the machinations by the Clinton crowd, Debbie Wasserman Schultz, Donna Brazile, John Podesta, and all the rest of the tried and true apparatchiks, to manipulate the primary process and, first, keep Bernie Sanders from winning the nomination, and, second, make sure Hillary faced Trump, exploded in their arrogant, elite faces. The so-called most qualified presidential candidate in the history of the world lost to a fact-challenged, pussy-grabbing, Muslim-baiting dickhead.
Hillary and Bill and Chelsea and every motherfucking member of the Clinton entourage and the Clinton machine should slink out of town, take a straight razor, and do themselves in, hari-kiri style.
If the Democratic primary had been waged on a level playing field, Bernie Sanders would have defeated Clinton handily, and gone on to thump Donald Trump. Hillary’s people knew this as sure as the sun rises and sets, which is why they had no choice but to resort to cheating to insure Hillary won.
The Clinton coronation never came to pass, and never will; the only bright light in this otherwise nightmare landscape is that we have seen the last of the Clintons -- they are finished, kaput, bundled off the national stage, free now to devote their remaining time on earth to laundering money through the Clinton Foundation, that cesspool of corruption.
Goodbye you tone deaf neoliberal Wall Street loving whores; your crimes are too numerous to recite, but you, as much as anyone, are guilty of murdering the American middle class.
Although it’s true and I must accept it, I cannot believe that the face of my country for the next four years will be that of Donald Trump. The empire is rotten from within, we are a banana republic with a strong army…as one unarmed white male, I apologize to the world in advance. I’m sorry my country is full of racist dolts.
Last night an acquaintance asked what the late Charles Bukowski would do in this historic moment, and I said that Buk would likely lock his front door, pour another glass of German wine, and write a couple of killer poems.
The world may be upside down, but, promise or curse, it spins on anyway.
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