This Carbon Based Life

By David Glenn Cox

Please excuse me while I vent for a moment. Hell, let’s all vent together. Perhaps this is too simple or inelegantly put, but I’m getting pretty tired of all this bullshit. I want my world back. I’m tired of 2+2 isn’t necessarily 4 Winston. And it isn’t so much the number and size of the lies, it’s the insulting, “here, they’ll believe this.” And the blind acceptance by the media.

Yesterday, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, *WDM was asked when gas prices would go down. Admittedly, it was a really dumb question for a Treasury Secretary. But asked, he proceeded to pull the answer directly from his butt. Advising us gas prices would soon go down by ah, by, summer! Yeah, sure, Summer, in the good ole summertime. On what evidence does he base this theory? Is he privy to inside information, or is he just pulling it out of his butt?  I sure wish I could feel as confident as him.

I’m getting tired of living in Crazy Town. I’m tired of reading the news with one hand on my forehead. What’s next? Arm wrestle with the Dali Lama? Of all the people to get his drawers in a bunch over, Pope Leo. That’s why we can’t have an American Pope. Trump can understand him. If he were Polish or Italian, with the accent, Trump couldn’t understand a word of it.

According to Mr. Trump, Pope Leo is soft on crime. The Pope in his papal duties does not include law enforcement, past visiting with prisoners. My grasp of Catholicism is vast, but threadbare from disuse. The Pope is the titular head of the church. When, if, if Jesus ever was or ever decided to return, Pope Leo will step down and return to being a Cardinal, and Jesus will assume his throne. So, Trump is telling Christ’s representative on Earth, he’s not doing it right. I was born Catholic myself, but it quickly wore off.

In politics, there are people you need to feud with and some people you don’t. The Pope qualifies for you don’t. There is no upside to be had. A president giving his religious opinions arguing with the Catholic Church because Leo said something mean about him. Be careful! Trump could call in Seal Team 6 and pull a Venezuela on Vatican City. Pope Leo, Pope of Guantanamo.

No, he wouldn’t do anything like that, would he? Maybe not, but you had to think about it, didn’t you? That’s what I mean by Crazy Town. Anything can happen, and does! The First Lady and five-time Trump employee of the month is involved in her very own sex scandal! It’s not just for the boys anymore ladies! A former model and her former agent are involved in a custody dispute. Daddy Palo dropped a dime on his long-term squeeze, Amanda and had her deported back to Brazil. Custody solved! Long-term friend of Malaria Trump deported and pissed off.

Amanda Ungaro is ready to throw lightning bolts. She implies in her statement that Mrs. Trump was doing more than just modeling in the Epstein circles. Hence, Malaria’s statement. “I not know Jeffrey Epstein. No matter what my emails or photographs show.” What could Malaria have been doing? Cocaine mule? Escort? Recruiter? The enabler, the Eichmann who made it all work. You need a Judas goat to lead them in.

Who knows, besides Amanda? This sort of thing is bound to happen when you make a porn actress the First Lady. Sooner or later, the stories from the old days begin to bubble up to the surface. Pretty Woman was just a movie, in reality, they play hardball. Maybe Amanda is just a vengeful woman and Malaria is totally innocent. Do you believe that yourself? Asked if it’s possible, not if it’s true. But is it possible? Is it possible that Malaria has a deep, dark secret and possibly a deep, dark criminal secret? Crazy Town! The First Lady involved in a sex scandal affiliated with her husband’s sex scandal. Separate but equal!

Mr. Trump posted a picture of himself as Jesus Christ. Who does that? What sort of normal person does that? Do you know anyone who would seriously post a picture of themselves as Jesus Christ? Mr. Trump then feigns innocence, like a fat boy stealing cookies. “What? Who? Me? Jesus? Gee, I thought it was me as a doctor and I was healing a patient. A weak the dog ate my homework excuse, but the judges will accept it.

That’s why I suspect Trump has multiple personality disorder. Donald the sane puts a lid on it and Donald the brute, undercuts him and exposes his weakness as the multiple personalities fight it out for supremacy. Donald the brute publishes another picture of himself with Jesus. Remember when folks got angry about taking a knee at a football game or burning an American flag?

We have an insane leader with some sort of strange relationship with the messiah of the Christian world, except for the Catholics. I think Mr. Trump needs to be questioned about the details of this relationship. Questioned intently by trained medical professionals. But nothing will be done. After the crimes of Venezuela and Iran, the Republican Congress has ceased to operate. The President is insane and imbued with the power of the divine. The courts are hit or miss and appealed up to the Roman Romper Room court. The Congress is neutered with an orange madman running loose with his flying monkeys.

I’m tired of Crazy Town. I want my world back. I want my life back! I’m tired of living on the windy precipice of cold disaster. I’m tired of wondering what’s coming next? I sure do miss boring. It’s like having a five-year-old as President, and you must continually watch him to see what he’s getting into. It’s so exhausting!

Sure, I could write about something else, but. But the strongest nation in the world is in the hands of a mentally ill person with his cadre of sycophants and flying monkeys. That’s the story of the century! It’s Nero, Caligula, or Louis of France. Besides, every other story is near meaningless here in the asylum.

“I’ve also been told it makes a good impression to begin modestly by asserting that novels no longer have heroes because individuals have ceased to exist, that individualism is a thing of the past, that all human beings are lonely, all equally lonely, with no claim to individual loneliness, that they all form some nameless mass devoid of heroes. All that may be true. But as far as I and my keeper Bruno are concerned, I beg to state that we are both heroes, quite different heroes, he behind his peephole, I in front of it; and that when he opens the door, the two of us, for all our friendship and loneliness, are still far from being some nameless mass devoid of heroes.” ― Gunter Grass,

*WDM  = World’s Dumbest Man