Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Fuck The President

We’re dealing with assholes. You can use all the fancy words you learned in college that you like–nihilists, Know-Nothings, Paleo-conservatives, fascists, Alt-Right, whatever–but these people are assholes. The President-Elect, the defiantly clueless team he’s assembled, the gleeful liars he employs to wag their dicks at the earnest actors portraying journalists on cable teevee, his drooling and sycophantic followers: assholes.

“Typical liberal hyperbole,” the assholes will say. “It is, in fact, this kind of behavior that forced us to vote for Trump. Had you not pointed out his utter lack of qualification, or the sucking and shit-stained sphincter that exists where his soul should be, then we may not have had to vote for him.”

And then they will say,

“Whatever happened to ‘When they go low, we go high?'”

And you must remember this, remember this at all times: no matter what they say, they don’t mean it. Words, to an asshole, are not promises; they are weapons, shields, traps. The specific gobbledygook is irrelevant. What they mean is this: Fuck You.

You’re not a Real American® like them. Maybe you’re poor. A faggot, a nigger, or a spic. What’s your last name? Tell me your (((last name))). Maybe your daddy didn’t mean anything to anyone but you. Cripple? Retard? Could be you’re just one of those fucking weirdos. Or a woman.

(And Jesus fucking Christ don’t bring up the popular vote. Trump won that, too, if you count the Real American® votes twice like the Founding Fathers intended. Hilary only won that because of the cities. You know who lives in cities.)

The words don’t matter, just the message: Fuck You.

I quoted Lincoln; I’ll so so again:

We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle-field and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched–as surely they will be–by the better angels of our nature.

That was his first inaugural speech, and he was wrong. There are some who have no better angels to their nature, and others still whom deserve enmity. The destroyer of America is my enemy, whether he be born in Moscow or Manhattan, and now is the time to choose sides.

11 Comments

  1. Geff Grimes

    This is going to suck & it’s going to be exhausting. This is also going to be an opportunity to be that person who does the things that need to be done and says the things that need to be said. Just like so many who came before us & so many that will follow, long after we’re gone. Good WILL come of this. We will make sure of that TOGETHER

  2. Robin Russell

    I understand a Springsteen cover band has been hired to play the inauguration.

    • Thoughts On The Dead

      Their name is The B Street Band.

      I am not making that up, even though it sounds exactly like the type of thing I’d make up.

      • PaulCHebert

        Bruce Springsteen played at Obama’s.

      • Slothencod (fka wtfwjd?)

        No J Street Band?

      • wilbard

        Looks like the B street band has pulled out too

        • Robin Russell

          Yes, now the Trump organisers will have to hire The C Street Band.

  3. Rushit

    What took you so long? I’ve been part of the “intolerant left” for weeks now.

  4. Spencer

    Boo hoo generation.

    • Spencer

      That’s a comment on the whining MGTOW, homophobic, spic hating, MAGA, race baiting pylons who claim they have it rough (I’m not exactly sure what MGTOW is so excuse me if I used it incorrectly). In happier news I heard that 3 Doors Down is playing the inauguration!

  5. mikemj

    Well said, TotD. Thank you for your reasonable opinions during this dark time.

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