- CRITTER TALK
- NEWS I FIND INTERESTING
MY first thought was, he lied in every word
That hoary cripple, with malicious eye
Askance to watch the working of his lie
On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford
Suppression of the glee, that purs’d and scor’d
Its edge, at one more victim gain’d thereby.
It’s remarkable how the “crooked Clinton” meme has survived the many failed and incredibly expensive attempts to pin some crime on them, but then the funds behind the defamation are nearly limitless and untraceable. From Whitewater to Benghazi, I can’t think of any more vicious and relentless program of defamation that wasn’t the product of a religion. Perhaps we should see the Republican party as a sort of religious entity, looking at the way people give their faith and trust to it despite an unbroken progression of broken promises and prophecies and prognostications that never come true.
Of course the Donald has picked up the stained and sticky baton and refers to the former Secretary of State as “Crooked Hillary” as though the title “Crooked Trump” couldn’t serve as the title of his biography, real estate scams, infidelities, fake colleges and all. It’s apparent though that the question of honesty is of concern to the dumb bastards that support this circus clown manque with a smile as sincere as that other criminal clown, John Wayne Gacy.
I listened to a dinner conversation between two rather wealthy, self-made millionaire types recently. The consensus was that Trump was “beginning to make sense” and he seemed the more trustworthy of the choices as he was rich enough to finance his own campaign and would not be beholden to anyone if elected. Neither would Vladimir Putin or El Chapo Guzman for that matter, but I didn’t suggest it, choosing to keep my temper and my dinner behind clenched teeth. Of course if there was any beginning here it was that he may beginning to read speeches written by others rather than rambling like a bad drunk in an empty bar; raving about how China is “raping” us by buying Treasury bonds.
Motivated conjecture seems to trump all in our dumpster-diving political discussion. Flimsy attempts at character assassination easily outweigh a sterling career while a character good enough at self-incrimination to make smearing him redundant, raves on unquestioned. Am I being overly cynical by observing that when facts or logic or any acknowledgement of reality enters into political discourse it’s only as a gilded frame for our infantile and usually baseless prejudices?
What else should he be set for, with his staff?
What, save to waylay with his lies, ensnare
All travellers who might find him posted there,
And ask the road? I guess’d what skull-like laugh
Would break, what crutch ’gin write my epitaph
For pastime in the dusty thoroughfare,
* With apologies to Robert Browning