This Carbon Based Life

By David Glenn Cox

For some reason, known only to the higher powers of the universe. A man who has never flown on a commercial flight in his life, takes aim at the airline Industry.

“You sit and wait for hours and then are notified that the plane won’t leave, that they have no idea when they will. Where ticket prices have tripled. They don’t have the pilots to fly the planes, they don’t seek qualified air traffic controllers, and they just don’t know what the hell they are doing.” – Donald Trump

Now as we deconstruct; does even one word or one petty grievance of that make any sense? I dunno. Weather maybe? I’m right there with them. If they don’t feel like it’s safe to fly their hundred million airplane because of the weather, I remember Buddy Holly and bow to their better judgement. “Ticket prices have tripled” since when Grandpa? I bet you remember climbing on a DC-3 for seventy-five cents and bringing your own watermelon. But it’s all just meaningless Trump bullshit as he snatches out of the air and regurgitates on to the moron herd.

Blah, blah, blah four out of five dentists recommend Crest! Then there was that time Godzilla attacked Tokyo. You elect me, and I’ll put a lid on that!

“Mothers will never again be forced to watch their children overdosing in hosp … and we will never allow mothers to watch their child hopelessly dying in their arms screaming, ‘What can I do, what can I do? Help me God, what can I do?’”

And Trump will do what exactly about drug overdoses? He will kill them! That’s right, any drug dealer responsible for 500 or more deaths will forfeit their lives. Does that include the Sacklers? No, I didn’t think so. But I wonder how we shall keep track of the deaths per drug dealer?

“We are a nation whose once revered airports are a dirty, crowded mess,” The Alamo is revered, and the Battleship Arizona Memorial is revered. The Dali Lama is revered, and the Pope is revered. The airport is only to be admired. Donald Trump is teaching a class in Moron school. He can say anything, anything at all. And the chimps will all gibber and genuflect excitedly. This is the greatest day since the monster truck rally came to town!

“I’ll make the birds fly backwards! Popcorn will be free in movie theaters! Butter too! I’ll do away with traffic congestion. Gasoline will only be a penny a gallon! I‘ll cure the common cold! Did you hear that Jethro? Free popcorn and butter too!

I can’t think of a more adequate term than “Moron School.” The great unwashed don’t care what Trump’s saying because they won’t remember it by tomorrow anyway. Notice Trump only runs against issues and answers them with obscure nonspecific unbudgeted plans that will never ever happen. I’ll kill all the drug dealers! Sure! Just you watch! I’ll make planes run on time!

Harry Truman warned us, Hitler and Tojo may be gone, but the ideas they inspired are still with us. The simple sucker gambit. “Put me in charge for a while, and I’ll make everything better and wonderful for you and all you have to do is just trust me.

Repeat, repeat, repeat! Tell them how unhappy they are! Tell them the world is terrible because of …them. They are killing your mothers and raping your daughters and only I care. (Willie Horton in a sombrero) Only, I’m willing to do something about it! The other side encourages it! They kill babies even after they are born! They buy every migrant entering this country illegally a new car! (electric, of course)

We are mired in a time of economic uncertainty for the formerly middle class. Years ago, I lived in nice homes I bought myself with my wages. Today, home ownership is only wild fantasy. Sure, Joe Biden cut prescription drug prices and student loans. But what about the other hundred and fifty million Americans? It’s not that Joe and the Democrats aren’t trying to do good. But they aren’t reaching the people.

How can student loans and prescription drugs hope to compete with candy and free cigarettes? Joe Biden can only promise what’s possible while Donald Trump can promise them anything. And they will believe unquestioningly because they have been well trained to believe.

It makes the plight of the poor New York Times seem even worse. Okay! From now on, our business model is to be just like everyone else. We’re going to look like everyone else and talk just like them too! That way, we’ll make tons and tons of money for our investors. Because when the readers can get the same crap served up anywhere, I’m sure they’ll choose us. They didn’t buy The New York Times to make money.

You get a few dozen billion dollars in your pocket and suddenly the value of money has very little meaning. You buy a mansion just so you can knock it down and build a bigger one. If it was the wrong color. You buy a newspaper that disrupts Moron School because using chloroform would be illegal. That’s creeping Fascism!

“I hate a song that makes you think that you are not any good. I hate a song that makes you think that you are just born to lose. Bound to lose. No good to nobody. No good for nothing. Because you are too old or too young or too fat or too slim or too ugly or too this or too that. Songs that run you down or poke fun at you on account of your bad luck or hard travelling. I am out to fight those songs to my very last breath of air and my last drop of blood. I am out to sing songs that will prove to you that this is your world and that if it has hit you pretty hard and knocked you for a dozen loops, no matter what color, what size you are, how you are built, I am out to sing the songs that make you take pride in yourself and in your work. And the songs that I sing are made up for the most part by all sorts of folks just about like you. I could hire out to the other side, the big money side, and get several dollars every week just to quit singing my own kind of songs and to sing the kind that knock you down still farther and the ones that poke fun at you even more and the ones that make you think that you’ve not got any sense at all. But I decided a long time ago that I’d starve to death before I’d sing any such songs as that. The radio waves and your movies and your jukeboxes and your songbooks are already loaded down and running over with such no good songs as that anyhow.” ― Woody Guthrie