Rust Never Sleeps

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

It is the sunset of the Valkyries, “Come on everyone, if we all wish really hard Trumpy will still be our President!” I still got my Trump flag and I still have gas in my pickup. My wife says it will be okay, as long as I’m home by six and don’t get my Klan robe dirty. The orange carbuncle is said to be in a fragile state; Pink has been exposed before his peers. You hear the brakes screeching and you’re just waiting on the crash. It’s official, you work on that Resume’! “For the last four years I have been working with starving children in Africa. That’s not me, that’s someone with the same name as me. I never worked for the Trump Administration. You can ask my boss Mr. Mobutu in Nigeria. He’ll tell you.”

“Half a League, half a league. Half a league onward. All in the valley of death rode the six hundred.” Sending cowards to defend the coward. “Go, shoot your career in the head! It’ll be fun!” No one wants to be the last person to die in a war. This is a death watch, and a lot of Republicans are just standing around kicking the dirt with their shoe waiting for the flag to be lowered before choosing a side. On the one hand you have an enraged orange carbuncle about to explode and on the other, sane people who might remember your name and your role in all of this come election day.  It makes the campaign road that much tougher, Vote Joe Republican! Not Treasonous Anymore in 2024!

Remember the large inflatable baby Trump? They didn’t make it large enough. Life 1 satire nothing. On the Baby Huey tantrum scale this is a nine point five. “I’ll show them; I won’t do any work! I’ll just play golf and fire people. And all you people who wait anxiously for my tweets…too bad! You had your chance and you blew it!” Only the true believers are left as Heinrich Pompeo leads the People’s anti-reality League with his groundbreaking research into down is up. Reality is really just a point of view! My mom thinks I’m cool!

Yesterday was Veterans Day, a day that doesn’t mean much to a flaming orange narcissist who feels like he’s just had a red-hot poker jammed up his ass. The orange one arrived at Arlington Cemetery twenty-five minutes late. Arriving almost as the event was wrapping up. President Big Mouth scowled with nothing to say.  This was the orange one’s only scheduled event of the day. Back to the war room to strategize a putsch with Rudy! “Did you need me to pick you up some two-cycle oil or weed eater string?” And so, it ends with laughter, “always leave em laughing.” The eighty-six proof Mayor says, “Where’s everyone going? It’s not over… no, it’s not. We have wonder weapons! We can turn the vote around; everyone is cheating, everyone, even us! Is that a liquor store?”

Trumpy hoped the Extreme Court would rescue him, but they too have turned their backs on the orange apocalypse. It’s not that they care about defending Democracy so much as it’s Trump isn’t worth their time. Unwilling to bastardize their name and their brand just to see the last five minutes of the picture. Bush Vs. Gore was going in. This is going out, so just keep going. We don’t know you here; the porch light is off, and we don’t have any candy for you.

The bearings are getting hot and it won’t be long now before the engine seizes. Campaign insiders are beginning to admit that the waters around them have grown. Orange Trumpy spends his days on the phone with his “friends” fishing for good news.  I said before that there is a moment in every Coup, a balancing point between success and disaster and that point is past. It’s all over but for the crying and time to ring the reality bell. Trumpy will never accept or acknowledge his defeat. His last words in life will be, “I was cheated.”

 This is his self-defense mechanism, the white knight defending his delusion. Now with a new and improved formula, “I could run again in 2024! Sure, I could do it all over again! I could come down those golden stairs again! And everyone would love me and if I’m good I get to go to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard!” Someone pull William Holden from the pool, Norma Desmond’s car won’t start. Four years is a long time, a lifetime in politics. A 2016 model Trump in 2024? “The King is gone but he’s not forgotten. this is the story of Johnny Rotten. Better to burn out than to fade away, my my, hey hey.”

Q has gone silent, after predicting a landslide victory for Trumpy. The leader of the QAnon cult of reflective imaging has nothing to say. He’s never been demonstrably wrong before and the huskers in the Hoostings are quite upset. “This isn’t a real heart! It’s just a piece of plastic from China with a clock works inside! And that’s not a real diploma, I could get one of those online. I’m beginning to think you aren’t a real wizard at all and I killed a witch for you!    

The true believers waving the colors. The dead-enders supporting the cause when the cause is gone with the wind. Leaving them behind in the wreckage of those former sun lit days. The Fuhrer blames the people for his failure. The Fuhrer always blames the people when he fails. Blames the people and plays a lot of golf. No one tells him he lost the election when he plays golf.

Out of the blue and into the black
You pay for this, but they give you that
And once you’re gone, you can’t come back
When you’re out of the blue and into the black”
– Neil Young

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