IT’S ALL MY FAULT…

…And Now a Word From Papa Smurf

By Duane Scott Cerny

I recently posted a few social media videos contrasting the difference between Biden and Trump on the solemnity of Memorial Day.

Biden marked the moment with a prayerfully moving sermon-like speech at Arlington National Cemetery, recognizing the hundreds of thousands of Americans who had given their lives for democracy—the view held by presidents throughout the 20th and 21st centuries.

Trump… where do I begin? He posted this long, incomprehensible (even for him) rant: “Happy Memorial Day to all… including the human scum out to destroy our country, the radical left … Trump-hating federal judge in New York over two trials and awarded a woman I never met before—a quick handshake 25 years ago doesn’t count … $91M for defamation.” (Blah, blah, blah.)

Only Trump can take the word “happy” and turn it into an indigestible meal. The post goes on and on, it being historically one of his more confusing, meandering blatherings to decipher. (Nevada sharks and electric boat motors would follow the week after… and don’t ask about windmills!)

 Even if Trump isn’t your cup of tea party, his screed still specifically mentions you: “You’re a crooked Dem, an unhinged Libertarian, a Rino trying to use the Giraffe’s bathroom,” etc. And as we’ve all heard before: You’re simply not his “type.” No molestation in the ladies dressing room for you…

 Now, if Trump is your guy, fine. If he wins, democracy as we once knew it, had a good if not limited run, at least on Hamilton’s Broadway. We will fondly remember we were all somewhat adjacent to “the room where it happened.” Sadly, it was a bathroom and the toilet was clogged with chewed up classified documents.

Trump and Stephen (the deporter) Miller have a list, and they’re checking it twice, like some sadistic Santa and Rudolph, his red-state-reindeer. Their list, to be specific, is comprised of those they believe have been both naughty and not nice to them. Such lists inevitably run out of printer ink.

In addition to the Biden “crime” family, the liberal media (network, cable, print, internet, Morse code) and everyone who displeased Trump and Miller are headed to the hoosegow. Even if you wrote only a disparaging Trump haiku, those three lines and assorted syllables will likely earn you a badly constructed sentence at Rikers in Allen Weisselberg’s old cell.

Returning to the posting of my social media videos—I received many heart emojis and words of support from the very, very nervous. The MAGA crowd has never been shy. I suppose if you’re willing to break into the U.S. Capitol, steal a sizable podium, or Nancy Pelosi’s laptop, or take a crap in her office, you’re a passionate person of deep convictions: some convicted for months, others, years. Please hold while we put you on a potential pardon list—or is that just a belch coming up?

 Personally, I try to learn from every experience—good or bad. Most of the MAGA comments target my appearance. Apparently, I’m not their “type” either. Okay, I’m old, fat (“four chins”), gay…nothing that doesn’t appear on the chart at my doctor’s office. Well, not the four chins; two at best. My favorite comment remains: “Shut up, Papa Smurf!” Finally, some creative writing spelled correctly.

 Somewhere along the line, the Republicans have turned our republic into a political Tinder, swiping to the far right like a horndog at a sorority sleepover. After Matt Gaetz used Venmo to pay for female party favors, the GOP pecker was cooked, if not a little bent.

 Trump and his minions hate the left. Fine, so don’t swipe left. Leave us to our lefty selves. But no, we must be tagged as vermin, deported, or better still, obliterated. How has Republican violence and hate speech become the hallmark of the former “Back the Blue” defenders? Angry Democrats send upper case emails to their congresspeople with vowel-deleted expletives, thinking: “That’ll show ‘em!”  

 The GOP is fixated on appearance, not content. In fact, The New Republic noted Trump’s “obsession” with the hotness of the wives of his potential vice presidential picks. Suddenly the GOP is simultaneously running both a political campaign and a beauty pageant, judged by a man whose words grow uglier with every passing day. Here he is: Misery America.

 Buckle up, folks. It’s going to be a bumpy Reich.