ME LIKE HIM!

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

When congressman Ryan’s plane touched down on the tarmac of Jonestown, the cult felt threatened. So, they sent men with rifles to shoot at the plane. When Donald Twump’s House of Wax and Discount Mausoleum Emporium was raided, the Twumper’s did the same thing. Just another sign of cultish brainwashed behavior. “War of the Worlds” Them Martians is coming any minute!

I can only imagine what it is like, slavishly giving over your life to a cult and to a strict set of rules. To pick peas all day in the hot sun. Hoping the Bhagwan will wave from his air-conditioned Rolls Royce, and maybe even slow down. So that the road dust doesn’t get in your face. So much so that, if that person or place is threatened.

They are ready to kill to defend the cult. But more than likely becoming the part in the picture played by someone who dies a lonely pointless martyr. Nameless, faceless, and unloved. Without the cult, life’s not worth living somehow. The same reason Magda Goebbels poisoned her kids. She didn’t want them to live in a world without the Fuhrer in it.

What can make them suspend belief? Evidence is only lies, and they can’t tell you anything that the man has actually done. “Oh man, he’s the greatest President this country ever had man!” but can’t go into detail as to why? And when pressed, becomes angry. The first rule of fight club is you don’t talk about fight club. The first rule of Twumpanzism is no one challenges the cult. And if someone does challenge the cult, in any way. You call them a name in a loud voice and criticize their shoes, or their car or their haircut or their national origin.

When Germany was weak and on her knees after World War One, what kind of leader was she looking for?

To the underclass, that will never live in a Penthouse and never have their name painted on a jet, he’s everything they ever wanted in a soap opera star. The tough hardnosed big city cop who doesn’t play by the rules as illustrated by Clint Eastwood. What’s six plus six? “Blue!” That’s telling them! They’re in love with his image, and he can do no wrong. The other day, when I had written that Malaria Twump was the First Porn Lady of the United States, I received push back.

I was told that Malaria was a fine lady and a wonderful person, who had many wonderful qualities and had done many wonderful things for this country. But if you brought her home to introduce her to your folks? ”Mom, Dad, this is my new girlfriend Malaria. She works in the Porn Industry Dad! You know that cheesy stuff like naked chicks kissing or sprawled out all over the furniture. Isn’t she great? She’s here on a work visa Mom and she wants to get married right away! Mom? Dad? What?”

A cult requires miseducating, lest people start getting crazy ideas all on their own. Have you ever noticed how talking to a Twumpanzi is like getting a recap of Faux News talking points? A sermon on the mount from the first church of What Aboutism. “What about Hunter Biden?”

What about him? Does he hold any elected office? Are his business dealings any more important than that of any other average American? If you have evidence of his wrongdoing, by all means, turn it over to the authorities and be quick about it. But it isn’t a charge so much as it’s a crusade, isn’t it? “They now attack my little dog, Fala.”

It should be obvious by now, as it is lifted from the pages Orwell. Two minutes of hate spread out over forty years. From the subtle to the sublime. Once, they were happy just to take away money for public school lunches. Now, they want to take away the public school. Interchangeable villains as they take down the banner of Hillary and put up a banner of Hunter. “All hail our great victory over Eurasia! The chocolate ration will not be increased because of Hunter Biden.” From a virtual unknown to a Bond villain in two years.

Hunter Biden is active misdirection and miseducation, “Look over here Shiny thing! Look, look! Squirrel! Marge Tater Greene is passive misdirection and miseducation when she says, “Alternative Energy doesn’t work at night.” Yes, it’s stupid. Because it’s meant to be stupid. You must know your audience and appeal to it. They can remember and associate solar with night. Short and sweet (1202, 1201 alarm, the computer is overloaded and having trouble keeping up.)

So, when Tater Greene says, it was Antifa that attacked the Capitol it isn’t dumb, it’s brilliant. The cult needs its myths of dungeons and dragons’ and enemies in our midst. November criminals, pinkos in the State Department. Never ask, is there a doctor in the house at a Twump rally? Just call 911, as the answer is probably “no” and asking is just a waste of time.

Rand Paul, America’s favorite phony foot doctor wants to repel the Espionage Act. Once used to put Socialists and war resisters in jail, and then he wants to defund the FBI. Because our laws are our enemy. Schools are our enemy, cops our enemy, libraries are our enemy too. Everyone is our enemy, and the days are growing shorter, and the nights are growing longer, and they fear the end is near.

Twump doesn’t talk down to the Twumpanzis making them feel bad about themselves, for not understanding the message. Because of all those big, long words with all those extra syllables in them. Three words or short phrases, short and sweet, a clear sign of reverse evolution. Losing the ability to speak in complete sentences. “Lock her Up! Build the Wall! And then the ever-famous literary masterpiece, “Let’s go Brandon.”

Another ten years, they might abandon language altogether and just use a series of grunts and clicks and simple gang signs. Twump doesn’t talk down to them because that’s not possible.

What would it take to make you abandon yourself to a cult? A cult that offers you nothing in return. Not even a bowl of pea soup at the end of a hard day of picking peas in the hot sun. A cult so powerful, that you would vote against your own interests. And undo a lifetime of social training. The elections can’t be trusted. The cops are all dirty. The courts are all crooked and everyone is out to get us, and Donald Twump is blameless in all this.

It’s a commonly known fact (beyond dispute) that Twump took documents that he shouldn’t have taken. That point is nonnegotiable (took things, as in stole). Then he gave back half of what he stole, like any good mob boss would. Then squirts tears of outrage when the cops raid his mortuary compound looking for the rest of the documents.

These Twumpanzi are furiously angry that the cops came and took all the stolen merchandise away from the thief. Material that he had no claim of ownership for. Documents that he had previously agreed to return but didn’t. Wrong is right; if that’s the way the leader wants it be. It is a great psychological leap… into the past. The descent of man. ME LIKE HIM! “Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”

“Keep the company of those who seek the truth- run from those who have found it”
― Vaclav Havel

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