This Carbon Based Life

By David Glenn Cox

I really wonder sometimes if their foolishness isn’t contrived. Act crazy on day one and scare the bejesus out of the listening public. So, when they moderate their position, they seem almost reasonable. For example, Cabinet picks who say stupid things like they’ve already been confirmed by the Senate. Clever ploy or hapless blind man stumbling through a minefield?

But from his van down by the river RFK Jr. muses about getting rid of the polio vaccine. Clever ploy or dumb as fuck? Ears pricked up as up spoke the prick from his primitive campsite on the Potomac. One by one brick by brick, building the resistance to his own nomination. His own worst enemy putting on a show of ineptitude and rank stupidity. Nobody could be that dumb before getting the job. There must be a hidden reason! Nobodies that dumb.

But then, I flashed back and reflected on the last wild ride with the King. Oh yes, the King’s last Administration. I remember it well. Pandemonium on a half-shell. Some member of the Administration or another would say something absurd like “Alternative facts” or biggest crowd ever! Then there would be a spasm or shockwave running through the Royal Court. “Yes, no” on board not on board? And before any resolution is grokked the next member of the Administration in the on-deck circle says or does something new or even more outrageous.

Such chicanery could serve as a distraction bringing us back around to the root question, are they really that dumb or are they just putting us on? I still think the King’s choice of Matt Gaetz was clearly a political ploy. “I’ll try ramming this rank piece of shit down their throat. They will be so repulsed and convulsed the rest of my choices will look much better. Which is why the King never tells his minions, publicly at least, to shut up.

Clever ploy or incompetence? Or he just doesn’t care? The King is busy rooting his own truffles and really doesn’t care what the others have their snouts into. If it is an intentional strategy, it is high risk. One Cabinet candidate gone already and another teetering on the brink of gone and RFK Jr. is screaming “Do me next!” Has there ever been a paternity test done to be sure of that lineage? Babies get switched in the hospital sometimes. Something just doesn’t seem quite right, a recessive gene perhaps, a genetic dropped ball or dropped stitch, so to speak.

Polio survivor Mitch McConnell tells the rusty pipsqueak by the river to watch his mouth if he knows what’s good for him. Put that shit in your back pocket and keep it there. It’s okay to be crazy if the King really wants you. But watch your mouth and wipe your feet and try to act civilized when coming indoors. They can be a little stupid for the King, but don’t push it.

At the rate they’re going they should have the new Administration up and malfunctioning in no time at all. What’s wrong with a racist Neo Nazi with a drinking problem as Defense Secretary? Come on, he promised he wouldn’t drink anymore! Just a hint, to anyone else out there with a drinking problem trying to land that big, big job. Promising not to drink anymore only acknowledges the problem and validates the complaint. Only people who have a bad drinking problem ever make that promise.

Alcohol clouds the senses and distorts perceptions. Tends to make some people onery and hostile. Makes people forgetful of details in a detail-oriented position. If you have ever lived with an alcoholic, you know, this is not the person you want refining our nuclear strategy. Chances are…he’s not going to make it. Too many insiders know the truth about him to let him proceed.

In Alabama, we had “Big Jim” as Governor once. He was known to tip a few so much the State Troopers at the Governor’s mansion were assigned to check the lawn for “Big Jim” at daylight. Making sure he wasn’t face down in his underwear in the front yard again.

“Daddy?” Yes, son. “Would you please send my ex-girlfriend to the moon?” No son, we can’t send her that far. How about Greece? Don the Con’s oldest son, Donette, has lost in love again. So, the King names his son’s ex-girlfriend/automated cocaine vacuum and Botox gold club member to be our Ambassador to the birthplace of Democracy with the accent on mocracy.

News media reports a love on the rocks, and if it wasn’t on the rocks before. A five-thousand-mile separation will certainly put it there. “I’ll call you every day! I’m sure going to miss you! Bye!” Our relationship with Greece is so important only the King’s eldest son’s ex-girlfriend will do. Otherwise, she says she’s going to talk and blow the lid off this thing! She wants to be the Ambassador to Greece!

It is interesting and dangerous exercise like self-asphyxiating sex to ponder on the possibilities. Take the King’s little absurdities of which we know and try to imagine the other 95% of the absurdities we don’t know. It can be frightening, so don’t try to do it alone. Drunks, Neo Nazis and a guy living in a van down by the river. Froggies all grown up. The orange dream (nightmare) team obsessed with destruction.

The King’s dream is to turn the American economy into tariff-based consumption tax system like this country had during the Gilded age. Allowing the wealthy, a free ride on the backs of the workers. She doesn’t just cook your hamburger; she helps pays your taxes too!

A plan if successful will lead America down another step of actually strangling the golden goose of American consumerism. If you do away with Social Security what will happen to states like Arizona, Florida and Texas? If you do away with all the good jobs who will buy those $60,000 trucks or half million-dollar homes? How will the poor the hungry and unemployed through tariffs, pay tariffs? How can the poor ever pay enough taxes to support the rich? And the devil laughed and cried, “More!”

“We have always known that heedless self-interest was bad morals, we now know that it is bad economics.” ― Franklin Delano Roosevelt