Festival of Conservatism

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

A funny thing happened on the way to the forum; they are fighting down at Temple Trump. He loves me more! “No, he doesn’t he loves me more!” Trump Co. a division of Sick Bastard Industries is policing the brand and guarding the wall. Draw Snoopy on the daycare wall and watch the attorneys come after you. That’s revenue and what do we know about Don the Destructor and revenue? Like waving a fresh bone under a dog’s nose. The workings of the cult are public knowledge. But you can’t say that Donald Trump endorses you unless you get it in person. As you kneel, kiss the ring and burn the prayer card in your hand.

From nothing he has come into the world and as nothing shall return. All fame is fleeting. As they defend sandcastle Trump, only 3% of jobs ads in Tennessee pay more than $20,000. The Governor is set to cut off enhanced unemployment in July, when clearly there are not enough jobs to support people. Do you think the voters will make that connection? That somehow, someway, the guy that ended my unemployment and curries favor with Donald Trump and forces me into destitution wants me to vote for them. Let’s see, what do I like more? Eating and living indoors or Republicans?

Yes, as a former homeless person that is a question to ponder on. While you may find their no-nonsense brand of conservatism appealing the idea of living outdoors in all weather blunts that appeal. Food banks in Tennessee are already gearing up for this Festival of Conservatism. “I’m starving for Donald Trump!” If the governor doesn’t cut off unemployment Trump might not like him as much as the governors who do. But rest assured there is a good reason for it. We want to torpedo the economy as way to get more Republicans elected! That way, Trump will know we love him. “Kiss my homeless baby Donald!” Give him a pair of Ray Bans and a Kool aide pitcher and he’d be smiling and all set. “We’re hungry for you Donald! We have nothing to eat but look, we’re happy!”

I’ve been going back and forth with a friend about ethics. I’m of the opinion in Republican political circles they are only mythical and the product of wishful thinking by hopeless optimists. Throw a few thousand struggling Tennesseans you swore to protect to the wolves in exchange for favorable TV coverage and getting my picture on Faux News. Sure, why not? On election night in 1932, Herbert Hoover received a telegram, “Vote Roosevelt, Make it Unanimous!” Despite radio networks and hundreds of Republican leaning newspapers the Hoover media blitz had failed. The public didn’t want to hear about a chicken in every pot. They wanted a pot to piss in and a window to throw it out of.

A flyer appeared on the Internet, but not in any place you’d likely see it. This was on the orange web down in bowels of the dumb state level Q or something. Candidate Hirsh Singh is endorsed by Donald Trump! All bless his holy name. But wait a minute, Singh is called on the carpet by Sick Bastard Industries. “Where is your holy writ?” I, I, I, don’t got one! But Trump really likes me. He said so, more than once. Then…Singh’s story changes” It’s a fake! That flier was put up there by my adversaries trying to make me look bad! I’m not that kind of guy. I would never claim Jesus loves me if he didn’t tell me so. I’d never take that kind of information second handed from a book or something. Funny peculiar how a Trump endorsement is both a four-way hit of windowpane and a poison pill all at once. “One pill makes you larger and one pill,” thanks Alice, I think we’ve got it. Mr. Singh finished third in a race of three.

Did Singh lose because of heresy or orthodoxy? Is it like choosing dog food, it doesn’t matter if I don’t have to eat it. His holiness Boss Tweed chooses them for us. “Look, I’ve lost ten pounds already and my car was repossessed! We love you, Donald!” I found a quarter on the sidewalk, but you can have it, Donald! Everyone remembers the important events of life like the first time you got laid and the first time you got fucked. Holding the bag open as the cricket’s chirp wondering, “when are the Snipe coming?” According to Howlin Wolf, the blues is when you can’t pay your house rent. Will they still vote Republican with the blues? Will Trump’s sputtering words and cash adorned endorsements assuage a rumbling belly and nagging fear when they split a two bedroom Toyota?

Calling a punch in the nose, a kiss Republicans ask, “do you want me to kiss you again?” Donald Trump supports me, isn’t that great? We’re cutting unemployment and food assistance for all you lazy bastards. That cotton won’t pick itself you know, and at a dollar a bag, an energetic fellow could starve quite nicely. Living insulated in new cars, country clubs and martini lunches and alien to all life on earth. Blind to their suffering and callous to the misfortune they themselves have created. Treed by the howling wolves of madness and soon to be devoured by the coming November apocalypse.

And if elected, I vow to cut your unemployment, I’ll fight to get you evicted. If elected, I propose hungry school children in every grade. Lunch less Wednesdays to honor Donald Trump. I promise if elected to fight anyone trying to give your children healthcare. We want cut taxes for the rich and fight raising the minimum wage. You might be homeless and hungry, but we’re your friends. We’d never make you wear a mask or get a shot. Now if you’ll look in the drawer of your dirty roach infested hotel room, you’ll find a Bible. In that Bible it says, Jesus loves you. Remember that – Jesus Loves you! Republicans don’t. You gotta problem? Take it to Jesus.

The Republicans got the windowpane and are tripping balls hard.

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