The Church of the Perpetually Irritated

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

Joe Biden’s bus was harassed on I-35 by Trump supporters. Apparently, they have been followed for weeks which begs the question, funding? Gas and hotels are expensive, who is paying the tab? Are these Trump cultists spending their own retirement money for the fuhrer and country or dark money from the under the table? It makes it so hard to tell which is the organ grinder, and which is the monkey. If you were that mythical creature, the North American undecided voter unicorn grazing in a pasture wracking both brain cells trying to decide. You have no political positions of any kind, you’re water. Look at the two campaigns, one encouraging you to vote the other turning back flips with a thousand Philadelphia lawyers trying to limit voting.

The anxiety is oppressive, I need opioids in a pez dispenser. I cannot believe the numbers of my countrymen who still support this sob. Literally everything he has touched has turned to fecal matter and the crowd stands back amazed and impressed like David Copperfield just made a bus disappear.

They were interviewing Trump supporters asking what issues motivated them. This gentleman said the Black Lives Matters protests was the issue that had his nickers in a twist. They asked where he lived, in Northwest Wyoming. Like living in Alaska and worried about sunscreen. This guy would have to get in his car and drive a hundred miles just to see a black person, yet this keeps him up nights. This is his primary concern, events that don’t involve him by people he’s never met in a place far, far away from where he lives.

Is it inbred racism or motivated racism? Was he just raised that way or groomed that way? Was he always like this or is this something new? When did he start keeping survivalist gear in the garage?

There is this Biblical nihilist Mad Max apocalyptic theme of when it all falls down. Christians misunderstanding their own metaphors worried about their life here on earth after all the good people are taken up to heaven. And they all think they will survive like a one-eyed John boy Walton on meth. Driving cars with spikes and wearing a Mohawk. “Cover me honey, I’m going in the 7-11.” We have a little AM station here in Colorado that plays all this right-wing survivalist crap. That is where I learned Jimmy Carter was the illegitimate love child of John D. Rockefeller. You can’t make it up. Well, you can but just not as good as the genuine article.

One of their primary sponsors were gold coin dealers and they had these ominous commercials in heavy reverb, “In a time of economic instability, what will you do? How will you take care of your family? Is it safe to trust your money to Wall Street?” It always made me laugh, what’s gonna happen when Mad Max finds out you have a bag of gold coins? Do you suppose Max can break a Krurgerrand for you? Not to say gold is a bad investment but a bad survivalist investment. A survivalist currency would be more like handguns and hard liquor, that’ll get you through the apocalypse. That and toilet paper, in the event of apocalypse you could rule the world with enough guns and toilet paper.

For big brave badass boys, they sure are afraid of a lot. Living with one eye over their shoulder fearful that someone or something is out to get them. Somebody somewhere is getting something I paid for, for free! Never once thinking of what they might have got for free. The aggrieved and the afflicted prophets of the church of the perpetually irritated.

Somewhere in a secret location known only to Tucker Carlson is a forty-foot-tall obelisk. The church’s most sacred relic. On it is a simple inscription, “Hey you kids! Stay off my lawn!” And that is what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown. It is just that simple. They don’t specifically hate black people. They hate anyone who upsets their applecart. “Keep it down, daddies trying to watch TV.” They live in the most perfect country in the whole wide world. Beyond reproach and don’t you dare say otherwise or you’re a dirty no-good commie traitor. They have a fundamental misunderstanding of freedom and wish to dispense it instead of allowing it to flow free unasked. They wish to become the guardians of freedom when they are the ones who understand freedom the least. Trading freedom for authoritarianism, “But it’s okay because he agrees with us! We’re not Jews, were not Mexican.”

Always with the addendum that these are the rules, except for me. Two minutes of hate expanded into a long play album, beatniks, commies, long hairs, Gays, hippies, blacks, Mexicans the French don’t feel special. It’s really not even discrimination if you hate everyone equally. “Don’t wake daddy from his nap. We’re going to watch Bonanza later Ben Cartwright is going to help the noble red man.”  Thank You for not intruding on my reality! A mind set thirty or forty years ago and any who stand against wish to overthrow the whole world. The party of grouchy old men at the end of the street.

Bring back the good old days! Police don’t beat up the innocent and if they do, they probably deserved it. Third-person racism, I won’t hit you with a truncheon myself but will support others in the endeavor. Because it really pisses me off when people protest issues, I don’t understand that have no effect on my life whatsoever.  

The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid
And the marshals and cops get the same
But the poor white man’s used in the hands of them all like a tool
He’s taught in his school
From the start by the rule
That the laws are with him
To protect his white skin
To keep up his hate
So he never thinks straight
‘Bout the shape that he’s in
But it ain’t him to blame
He’s only a pawn in their game

Bob Dylan

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