Tag Archives: Oompa Loompa

(WE DON’T NEED THIS) FASCIST GROOVE THANG.

Well, that didn’t take long, did it? Normally, one would expect a new head of state to spend a couple of weeks coming to terms with the position, perhaps give the tyres a kick, adjust the seat and the mirrors and then take a short drive around the block, but no! It would appear that Der  Trumpfer jumped straight into the drivers’ seat, slammed the accelerator to the floor and set off on what appears to be a reenactment of the goriest bits of “Deathrace 2000.” I thought, presumably like a lot of other right minded people, that a lot of his blather on the campaign trail was simply red meat thrown to the mob, but it appears that he actually meant what he said. Who’d a thunk it?

Thankfully, those  who don’t watch Fox “news” had an instant Howard Beale moment and made sure everyone knew about it. It was gratifying to see that the attendance at the Women’s March in D.C. exceeded by a considerable amount the attendance at the inauguration, and at so many other marches not only around the U.S, but all over the world. Of course,  baby threw a tantrum when the U.S. Parks Department posted a picture of 45’s inauguration crowd alongside that of President Obama’s first inauguration. No one in their right mind would have believed that more people came to see the Oompa Loompa sworn in than any of the previous 44  presidents, but to ban the parks department from publishing anything in public.?It’s the typical reaction of a spoilt brat who  is caught out, and then resorts to red-faced hysteria in an attempt to blame others for his lies.

Don’t you think it interesting that the nylon haired one is so obsessed with size? Be it walls, crowds, ties, aircraft or  whatever, he always claims that his is bigger than anyone else’s. I wonder if he is trying to compensate for some kind of inadequacy or trying to deflect attention away from something of which he is ashamed or embarrassed. Oh, I see my error. He doesn’t experience shame or embarrassment, only anger, contempt, pride, smugness and hubris. I mean, don’t his staff have access to Photoshop? Even Stalin had a team dedicated to altering photographs. My favourite has to be that of Stalin winning the 100 metres gold medal in the 1936 Olympics. It’s the best retouching job the KGB ever did.  (Apologies to Alexei Sayle).

Of course, that was just the appetiser. The main course was right behind it, and oh, wasn’t it the most incredible, enormous shit sandwich you’ve ever seen? I’m talking of course, about the (absolutely not a) Muslim ban ( honestly). I mean, did he really think, even for a minute, that he would get away with it? Not go all Bill Hicks on you, but the balls on that guy! He must have to wear specially fitted trousers with balls that big. Does he have to use a wheelbarrow to carry around those enormous balls?

Of course, the outrage  was instantaneous. I heard that one placard being held outside JFK airport read” “First they came for the Muslims, and I said “Oh no you don’t motherfucker!”” Pastor Martin Niemoller must be very proud of that person. And the owners of art and office supply stores must be very happy. Have you tried to buy poster board, wide tipped Sharpies or any kind of paint recently? Had I the money, I’d be buying stock in Office Depot and Michaels.  A blind man on a speeding horse could see the unconstitutionality of the ban, yet as soon as Judge James Robart, a Bush 43 appointee, no less, struck down the ban, the tiny fingered one denigrated him. But then again, that’s nothing new, just ask Judge Gonzalo Curiel.

Trying to deflect blame for any future event is also straight from the Despots’ Handbook, as is singling out a specific religious group,  threatening the press and surrounding oneself with ideologues who lack basic competence. Rather than draining the swamp, as he claimed, he is filling it with the most revolting, foul slime imaginable.

It would not surprise me if he were to find an excuse to impose martial law and put troops on the street. Seriously, he has no concept of self control or that he is doing anything untoward. I think he genuinely believes his  own publicity and that this is his destiny.  No one has ever said “no” to him, hence his apoplectic responses to anyone or anything that doesn’t go his way. I’m genuinely concerned for the future of this county. I don’t think we can afford to wait two years until the mid-term elections to try to redress the balance. One of my biggest fears is that Bannon et al see him as a useful puppet and are planning to have him impeached or resign and then have Pence replace him as president, with Bannon as Veep. I know this all sounds like a whacko conspiracy theory, but if  the alternative is that he is doing all this himself, then what?

He’s already questioned the legitimacy of the judicial and legislative branches and is issuing edicts at a rate that would make Kim Jong Un jealous, and I wouldn’t put it past him to give himself even more control. To quote Abraham Lincoln, who must now be spinning in his grave at the thought of those grubby, tiny digits on his bible, once said, “Any man can handle adversity. If you want to see his true character, give him power”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Orange Crush.

I’ll put the primal screaming on hold for a second and try to be rational about this. I make no promises, though. So, where to begin? Despite following the election closely, by Monday of this week I just wanted the whole nightmare to be over. Enough was more than enough, and for the first time I didn’t bother reading many of the articles on the Guardian website. Even I was glutted by the coverage, like a once hilarious catch phrase repeated ad nauseam.

Lacking television, I knew that listening to the radio at home and sober wouldn’t do it for me, so I headed off to my favourite watering hole early on Tuesday evening to watch the results. A small crowd had gathered to watch CNN on the two screens that usually provide sports coverage as I took my place and sipped at the first of several  pints of stout, keeping one eye on the screen whilst reading “The Economist”- a publication that has become a security blanket as much as a source of information over the past few months.   I wasn’t too concerned by the early returns, as there was no doubt in my mind as to how the Confederacy would vote, but as the evening wore on and the gap refused to close, a sense of foreboding descended upon me. People drifted away, but I stayed until almost 9pm before heading back to Singledad Towers and logging on to the Guardian website.

It only got worse. Much, much worse. As the red column crept inexorably towards 270, I succumbed to the inevitable and called it a night, stunned by the implications of what had just happened. Wednesday was not a happy day, to put it mildly. My poor brain had a great deal of difficulty wrapping itself around the implications of the election result, and no, it had nothing to do with my alcohol consumption of the night before. Indeed, I still find it difficult to comprehend the existential crisis we face as a result of “The great American electorate” – Ha! The most oxymoronic phrase in history – choosing to elect  the Oompa Loompa In Chief.

Actually, I think Der Trumpher is in fact, TWO Oompa Loompas in a suit. The skin tone is the same, his hair has obviously been dyed, but the big giveaway are the  Oompa Loompa sized hands on what appears to be an adult human.

To be serious for a moment, though, the implications are horrific. Due to the unconstitutional and anti democratic stance of the Republicans, the Bigot elect now gets to choose at least one, and possibly as many as three supreme court justices. Kennedy isn’t getting any younger, and the Notorious RBG is an octogenarian cancer survivor. Let me spell it out: Marriage equality, Transgender rights, Roe V. Wade, environmental regulations, Planned Parenthood, Obamacare, the Paris climate accord, the EPA itself ( created, as you all know, by that dangerous  radical  liberal Richard Milhous Nixon), employee protection, the Iran nuclear deal, religious tolerance, immigrant rights, gender equality, freedom of the press, the fourth amendment, freedom of speech, freedom of thought, all of these and no doubt many more are now at risk. I’m not joking. We now stand on the threshold of a new Dark Age.

Think about whose tiny, tiny finger will soon be hovering over the nuclear button. No doubt it will be a gilt button, the finest anywhere, but just think about it. Would you give a machine gun to a four year old? That in effect, is what has happened. Except for the fact that when a four year old throws a tantrum, you can put him in his room until he calms down. Oh, and four year olds are rather more rational than President Pumpkinhead.

I’m still numb with shock, in case you didn’t realise. I feel like Charlton Heston in “Planet Of The Apes” when he sees the Statue of Liberty poking out of the sand – a prospect that is now very much in our future . How can I make sense of it all? Hillary was by far the most qualified and competent of any of the candidates. Do people really hate her that much? Is this, as it has been called, a “Whitelash” against the outgoing resident of the White House? Do people really despise and distrust liberalism that much? Is it a backlash against the establishment and entrenched interests? Ha! That would be ironic – republican voters voting for a candidate from the party responsible for the last eight years of gridlock and “Hell no!!!”

And people wonder why we’re fucked up as a species. I truly despair for this nation. I feel like I’ve been woken from a coma only to find that what I thought was reality was in fact an illusion. It’s a situation that not even H.P. Lovecraft at his inventive best could imagine. I’m floating in space with no sense of up or down, nothing beneath my feet, surrounded by an immense unfeeling and indifferent void. I know this all sounds a bit melodramatic, but how am I supposed to feel? Fear not, I’m not going to fall foul of Godwin’s Law, but the words of Pastor Martin Neimoller ring truer now than ever before.

There is no upbeat ending here, just the mental image of a boot stamping on a face for ever. I’m off now to practice saying “Eh?” at the end of every sentence and sew as many maple leaf patches as I can find onto everything I own, especially my tee shirt that says “Don’t blame me, I voted for Cthulu.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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