A Monkey Too Old to Dance

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro with the Orange one

Who wants to talk about the Corona virus? Yeah, me neither. Anxiety phasers on stun. Can you believe it? Store shelves empty of toilet paper in the United States of America, the capitalist wet dream of conspicuous consumption? What’s next, waiting in line for shoes? Disneyland is closed the only Mickey Mouse left is the orange one. He mumbles quietly talking to himself on his tire swing. His scheduled three O’clock remarks are about twenty -five minutes late. In fact, it’s several weeks too late. Trump’s medical advisor says the Corona virus test kits will ship this week and other test kits went out missing components.

“A heck of a job Brownie,.”

I think my favorite is the Drive thru test station, “I have a hundred – and three-degree temperature do I have Corona virus? “Without the test I’d say, yeah probably. Here in Denver you have to have a note from a physician to get tested in the Drive -thru line. I have the flu, or I have the Corona virus. I’ve seen a physician, no small effort. They give me a note which says, it’s okay to test me. That’s a lot of work for a sick guy. Thanks’ for coming by, drive careful now!

Not since Edgar Bergan and Charlie McCarthy has there been such a ventriloquist and his dummy act. Mike Pence stole the press conference slobbering wooden platitudes and fawning profusely on Trump with evangelical zeal. Like the Sermon on the mount we thank you Mr. President for all you’ve done. You’ve done everything you could and so fast! Some would say half-fast. We thank you o sovereign one.

How bad must it be to get the ape to eat his words. Reminds me of Stalin after the Nazis attacked. Sitting alone on the couch dreaming of Ludmilla. Then it came to him. Don’t fight for me! I’m a bastard! fight for Mother Russia!

Here be a question that’s been bothering me, Satellite photos show mass graves dug in Iran. Do you suppose there’s any mass graves in China? Would they tell us if there were? I cast no aspersions, but sometimes the math coming from the Chinese government doesn’t always add up. The quicker we get these numbers down the quicker we can start shipping cell phones again! There’s a hole in the second quarter that won’t go away. I look at Italy and Iran and it just seems nearly miraculous that the Chinese got a handle on this so quickly with factory workers sleeping in dormitories.

Ninety-nine bottles of excuses on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of excuses. Take one down pass it around ninety-eight bottles of excuses on the wall.

Mr. President you were photographed standing next to a man who tested positive for the virus. “I take a lot of pictures sometimes hundreds a day.”

“I’m not showing any symptoms.”

Are you going to be tested? “Probably.”

Why can’t they stop him? The purpose of the press conference was to showcase the Administration’s competence and there it goes. It made me wonder what the orange one’s anti-drug message would sound like. “Hey kids, don’t do drugs. But if you do, it’ll be alright just don’t get hooked!” Those, oh yeah, moments. Oh yeah, the President is speaking in the rose garden should I listen now or read the corrected copy later? Oh yeah, he had to bring his friends this time, experts and just plain Joe’s from across the broad expanses of the one percent. America’s smiling corporations ready to lend a helping hand with killer shark eyes.

Trump willingly sharing the spotlight. “It’s not just me!” Failing at the one thing he really thought he was good at. A Vaudeville performer whose act’s grown stale whose monkey’s too old to dance. The man who wanted the spotlight all to himself fades into the crowd. You know you’re failing when… but Mike Pence still loves ya like a high school girl with a crush who thinks you’re looking at someone else. The absurdity! I mean what will the future say about these times? You know, when they’re sitting around the fire pit eating fried dough on a stick and drinking water from the broken end of a used Gatorade bottle.

The President, he talked so good the stock market came roaring back as a sign of confidence. The only thing worse than a market dropping ten percent is a market rising nine percent in twenty minutes. Gold which is supposed to be the safe haven in times of trouble lost value. The gold traders pitch of gold being better than cash came true. So many sellers liquidating gold assets to cash to meet margin calls.  The strange dichotomy of wounded Wall Street and Francis the talking Trump. The seriousness and the farcical nature of this back-yard birthday party with a clown. You wonder what’s next, but you’re too afraid to look.

Italian apartment dwellers were broadcast singing the national anthem from their balconies in a sign of solidarity.  Of course, anyone inside the building with the flu and a hundred- and three-degree fever probably wants to kill them all. Will Americans sing from their balconies? Do Americans know all the words to the national anthem? Would we resort to singing Free Bird? What’s wrong with us buying up all the toilet paper? Maybe it’s a Freudian slip? An early Mad Max with a raid on the Charmin truck how’s that for a vote of confidence. I have so much confidence in the President I think I’ll go plan for the apocalypse now and buy up two years’ worth of toilet paper.

Let’s all go to a crowded store and stand around in line for supplies with those people we’re supposed to avoid.

“Well, I didn’t say I wasn’t going to be tested,” Trump replied. Pressed on the point, Trump said, “Most likely, yeah. Most likely. Not for that reason, but because I think I will do it anyway.”

No Need to Test Trump for Coronavirus, White House Doctor Says

A monkey too old to dance.

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