The Best of Us

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

A story which almost has “The Godfather” music playing in the background. “The day might come when I need a favor from you.” Then that son of a bitch ratted me out to the cops! They held a sort of Gubernatorial debate in Georgia to answer a very important question. Should Donald Twump be allowed to choose the Republican candidate for Governor, while opposing a sitting Republican incumbent?

You see, it’s a strange case of orange butt hurt if you know what I mean. Donald Twump believes that he and not Georgia voters put Brian Kemp into office. So, Kemp should have been beholden and burned the playing card in his hand and kissed the God damn ring. Donald Twump asked him for one small insignificant favor and look how he acts! This is all Brian Kemp’s fault really. There wouldn’t even be a debate, if Kemp would have been a little more charitable towards his benefactor.

And after all that he’s done for you! The man simply asked you to find a few thousand votes to help him overturn an election. And what does Kemp do after all of Twump’s kindness and generosity has been poured out and he now needs a favor? He tells the Attorney General about it! And the Attorney General start’s an investigation. Son of a bitch, that’s gratitude for you! “Have you got it on tape?” You bet!

Look, I’m trying to overthrow an election and I need a favor. Understand? I’m asking you, but I’m not asking you to do this thing for me…or else. “Thank you, Godfather, for inviting me on this most important day of your daughter’s wedding.”

It is my understanding that you have friendly judges and officials in your pocket that could be helpful in my new venture. “Yes, but they would not remain my friends for long Don Twumpo,  if they knew that I got involved in your dirty business.”

You know what that means! It means stay away from the fruit stand while Fredo’s working security. Mama will get you some oranges from the Kroger on Thursday. Mark your calendar and stay home!

Don Twumpo has many friends who owe him many favors.  He will come gunning for you. Enter David Perdue, a former one term Senator from Georgia and “management consultant.” Money man, shaker of hands and knower of plans. That guy, who seems to know everyone in the room. “Sir, I have a phone call for you. It’s Don Twumpo.” Yes, Don Twumpo. Whatever you ask Don Twumpo. I will file immediately Don Twumpo. David Perdue, here in renamed V-2. Vengeance Weapon, second class. “Hey, guess what everybody? I’m running for Governor!”

Because ah well ah, because the ah, the election was stolen! What else Don Twumpo? High gas prices, Inflation, War, and illegal immigration are all the fault of Brian Kemp for allowing the Democrats to steal the 2020 election. It’s been recounted and it’s been litigated, the vote totals are accurate and correct. Yet the Don Twumpo candidate is still pedaling the LSD fantasy of a stolen election. Those November criminals have stabbed us in the back again Adolf!

The Georgia Republican primary becomes a litmus test of whether you believe in magic or not. Whether you believe in Santa Claus or not. Picture yourself in a boat on a river. Do you believe the bonafide certified black and white election results, or do you believe in Don Twumpo? Them papers might say that its so, but Don Twumpo says that it ain’t.

So, V-2, Don Twumpo’s handpicked hit man campaigns vigorously on a proven lie. The circle gets smaller as less and less people believe in Tinkerbelle. Come on everybody, we can still save Tinkerbelle, if we try. You just gotta believe the election was stolen with tangerine dreams and marmalade skies. Abandon all reality and embrace the inner Twump. Ummm!

What scientists would describe today as a new subset of human moron, willing to believe anything Twump that tells them. They even don’t ask why Twump endorsed Kemp last time and Perdue this time? Twump could endorse a push broom and they wouldn’t question it. “I think this Cocker Spaniel would make a real fine governor!”

Spending their bells and plate to club and pound on each other like cave men. To attempt to defeat each other before the race even begins. “Is you is or is you ain’t Don Twumpo’s constituency?”

The devil is running against us and she’s a woman and she’s Black and if that’s not enough, she’s a Democrat. We must defeat her and the best way to do that is to choose a candidate completely untethered from reality. Someone who is not afraid to stand up and be counted among those being laughed at. Someone committed to the belief that we can still go back and change time. That it’s not too late! It’s a free country and we got guns and you can’t make us accept reality, if we don’t want to. You’re just shitting on the Republicans, just because they make stuff up.

“Harvey and I sit in the bars… have a drink or two… play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they’re saying, “We don’t know your name, mister, but you’re a very nice fella.” Harvey and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We’ve entered as strangers – soon we have friends. And they come over… and they sit with us… and they drink with us… and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they’ve done and the big wonderful things they’ll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to Harvey… and he’s bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that’s envy, my dear. There’s a little bit of envy in the best of us.”  – Ellwood P. Dowd

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