A Thursday ramble (through political thickets and thorns)

Sorry for the delayed posting. And for going Full Political yesterday. (You never go full political.)

You know how us junkies are. I even watched a half hour of last night’s debate. Hadn’t done anything like that in years, but Kit Perez was LiveGabbing it so entertainingly over at Gab.ai that I had to see for myself. I thought I could just … have a taste, you know? Just one little taste.

Afterward I needed to detox.

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I thought Trump did well in the bit I watched. But Hillary did a better job: outwitting him, out-talking him, and sneakily dodging the tough questions moderator Chris Wallace asked her. Slick Hilly seems to have learned something from Slick Willy, even if being personable is a lesson she failed. She and all her pals sure have the lying through their teeth part down pat.

I caught the part of the debate the MSM is so obsessed with today, the part where Trump hedged on whether or not he’d accept the results of the election. Sounded perfectly reasonable to me, but to hear reporters tell it, that, like his earlier remark that Hillary should be in jail, is some sort of shocking, monstrous third-world thing no Democrat would ever even think of.

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If Hillary wins and continues (or worsens) Obamacare, I wonder how long before we’ll have exploding corpses in our hospitals?

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I applaud Joel’s (most likely doomed) effort to avoid political blogging until the election. But I’m too weak.

Besides, I realized during my hours of detox that the reason I’m hooked on politics is because it’s entertaining. And that’s it. Yes, it’s entertaining like meth might be entertaining (wouldn’t know; that’s one drug I never tried). Entertaining like a particularly gross John Waters movie — maybe the one where Divine picked actual dogsh*t off the street and munched on it. But entertaining.

I certainly won’t “accept the results” of any election and I hope you won’t, either. Except in the sense of accepting some inconvenient reality that’s outside your control. Or accepting that your state government is as eager to sell you out and consider you a criminal as the feds and the secret uber-government are. (Too bad we can’t wear one of these in our driver’s license photos. But there are always the old semi-reliable methods of clever makeup and cotton plugs in strategic places.)

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Alas that this time of year the pushers on every level are feeding the addictions of pathetic souls like me. This morning’s mail brought competing flyers in a local race. The candidates themselves aren’t talking, but apparently one normally itty-bitty insignificant office has become hot stuff this election season, resulting in a deluge of glossy four-color slanders from multitudes of PACs. Seems we have the “choice” between v*ting for an R. who never pays his bills and has been sued by everybody from God the the Little Match Girl or v*ting for a D. who looooooooves disarming victims, makes a fat salary as a lobbyist in the state capital, and doesn’t even live in the area code she’d be “representing.”

I tell you, they’re just mainlining the toxic substances right into our veins.

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It’s no surprise at all what Americans name as their greatest fear in this year of Our-Lord-the-State 2016. By a wide, wide margin, too. (H/T L.A.)

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So, given the current state of the pre-apocalypse, and given that millennials know there’s something rotten going on but are mostly too hampered by their government educations to grok the true causes of the dire times they’re going to bear … what would you tell them if you had the chance?