O, Sisyphus; O, Atlas; O, Bill Murray’s character from Groundhog Day. (Phil something, right?) O, Prometheus bound and reborn to be pecked at; O, Benjy murdered by a drummer and resurrected: I understand you now, your punishment eternal and infernal, even though it’s only been a week since I started doing this. I roll the rock up the hill, and then the rock falls back down, except the rock is made of shit and the hill is made of shit and everything’s just shit.
These fuckers are in my head.
That’s what they want.
I KNOW. WE’RE LOSING.
Ooh, talk about losers.
Sure. Since the election, the Democratic Party has been flailing around like an epileptic at a strobe light factory. Who’s in charge over there? New putz, right? Or have they fired him, too, because the Republicans said something mean and every pussy one of them scattered again? “When they go low, we go high.” Remember that happy horseshit?
If you stay high while they go low, you get tackled; these mawkish centrists will compromise us straight into chaos.
I can’t bear to think about this any more tonight; I want to see what’s going on in Little Aleppo. But first look at this answer from Spicer’s presser today:
Did you see it? Did you catch the word choice? “Burrowed.” We all know what he means, right? These are men with bad intentions, and they mean your family harm.
This has been the 50th day of our national nightmare; may we all wake soon.