By David Glenn Cox
Years ago, back in my drinking days. I had had a few too many one night and stumbled, knocking over a floor lamp. The lamp crashed to the ground and broke. Or more correctly, I should say, “My staff was moving it, and they dropped it, and it broke.” You believe me, don’t you? I can smell a bullshit story from miles off. I’ve raised children. Peterless, Peter Hogsbreath said that his staff were moving the famous Eisenhower globe and dropped it, and it broke. Damned staff! The staff sure can be a clumsy bunch sometimes.
When a known alcoholic with megalomaniac tendencies tells me, whoops. Color me skeptical. I’ve had too many alcoholics in my life to believe the old clumsy routine. Peckerhead Pete had promised at his confirmation to swear off the brown bottle. But at Donald Trump’s dull-a-thon in Dallas. Pete was spotted in a bar. Drinking lemonade, I’m almost sure.
A maniacal moron with delusions of grandeur. He thinks he’s part General Patton and part General MacArthur, and Pete needs priceless relics of greatness around him at all times to fill in the empty spaces he feels inside. As if their greatness will rub off on him by their proximity. He is in fact General Custer looking for Indians in his own Little Bighorn. He thinks Doctor Strangelove is a role model to emulate. Sorry, but when priceless historical heirlooms get broken around drunks. Color me skeptical. Sure, my staff did it! The dog ate my homework. Mama always used to say, “Don’t play with that! Or you’re going to break it!”
Speaking of brokenness, isn’t it amazing how the Trump regime’s Injustice Department can become right before the midterm elections? Charging 29 with voter fraud in California, out of a voting population of 23 million. Or accusing 20,000 of being illegal voters when most are native-born. A Democratic legislator in Virginia is arrested accused of drug trafficking, money laundering and racketeering and everything else they can think of in a month’s long investigation, which just coincidentally culminated two weeks before the midterms.
But probably the most sickening of them all is the specious case against Illain Omar. Often a favorite punching bag of the criminal Trump. A sitting member of Congress has their house raided at four in the morning over a paperwork situation her deceased father is responsible for. But from a propaganda standpoint, it’s Disneyland with hundreds of angles and rides to pursue. The ramped reactionary Republican rumor mill and propaganda factory says Omar married her own brother. But strangely, there is no mention of any such issue in any of the paperwork.
Meanwhile, far away in another part of town, the sinister hand of Sinclair Media is all over the story like a Klansman with a new piece of rope. Omar states unequivalently that she didn’t marry her brother. Sinister Sinclair reports it as “Lingering questions remain about Omar’s immigration status.” In other words, answering unequivalently just isn’t good enough. “When did you stop beating your wife?”
But the sinister Sinclair media is special. Unlike Fox News where you know what to expect. Sinclair hunts like a U-boat from beneath the surface. Sinclair owns more than 193 stations in over 100 markets, plus their YouTube presence. Parading surreptitiously as Fox, NBC, ABC, My Network TV, The CW, and the CW Plus. The CW has a plus? Why? You’d never suspect it’s all the same dark hand pulling the strings from behind the curtains. They follow Hitler’s principle of telling the big lie. Then, repeat, repeat, repeat! All over and over, but on 193 different outlets.
Excuse me while I digress here for a minute. Sinclair calls itself media and calls its employees “journalists.” Because if they called these garbage dispensers they call presenters, what they actually are, no one would watch them. These people present themselves in costume as nonpartisan “journalists.” It makes me sick to think of people drawing paychecks to tell lies and hurt people, because some billionaire upstairs told them to.
I don’t claim to be non-partisan. I’m partisan as hell, and I don’t try to hide it. In the words of Winston Churchill, “I fight for my corner, and I stay until the closing bell.” Nobody tells me what to say or more importantly, what not to say. An essential tenant of propaganda is the illusion of the honest broker giving a sincere, unbiased opinion. What does Sinclair have to say about Vivek Ramaswampy? Who? What does Sinclair have to say about Trump’s crooked Russian diesel fuel deal? Gosh, the President is just trying to lower fuel prices because he’s such a real nice man.
Never mind the national shame and disgrace of sucking off Vladimir Putin. The orders come from upstairs, from the nameless and blameless billionaires. I’d rather be homeless again, before falling into that fate. Vivek is done. Darlene Graham succumbs in a sea of her own raging incompetence. Susan Collins trails, and now comes the word that Mississippi might also be in play. Mississippi? Really? A Trump pundit pollster says, “it’s that bad and even worse.” That at two weeks out, the elections usually break for the party out of power. In the special case of Donald Trump, Democrats are outraged and revolted, while Republicans feel double-crossed and screwed.
Kansas hasn’t elected a Democratic senator in decades of memory. Yet Republican Roger Marshall trails due to his own intrinsic arrogance. A few months back, during a town hall, Marshall raised a calm sedate crowd to fist waving anger by answering their questions arrogantly with Trumpy- based platitudes. Then, telling the enraged crowd. Gosh, if you’re going to act like that. I’ll just pick up my bat and ball and go home. Don’t you peasants understand that I have more important things to do than to yak it up with a bunch of local weed benders? With that, Marshall left the building. Out the back door, I might add. The nerve of those peasants to argue with a man of my stature! I’ll show them. I’ll just leave! That’ll teach em to mess around with their betters.
So you’ll never guess what happened? During his debate performance Marshall repeated those same Trump poems, prayers and promises. And again, he failed to connect and woo the crowd. The TV station hosting the event offering a post-debate fun-in, where the candidates could casually discuss their debate performances. Rather than appear, Roger Marshall left the building. Out the back door again, I might add. “How did the debate go, Rog?” I’ve never heard of a candidate admitting his own defeat before. Like Mike Dukakis, if you drive the tank, buddy, you’ve gotta take your lumps. Paging Roger Marshall!
Roger Marshall is trailing in state that hasn’t elected a Democratic Senator since Harry Truman. And that my friends tells you the state of our union. See-BS shows the Paxton-Talarico race in Texas as dead even, but nobody else does. All the best media that billionaires can buy. It’s so dead even that Trump and shady JD Vance have visited Texas nearly a dozen times. Yes, it’s just that even!
“We had an interesting convention at Los Angeles, and we ended with a strong Democratic platform which we called the rights of man. The Republican platform has also been presented. I do not know its title, but it has been referred to as the power of positive thinking. [Laughter and applause.]
I do not regard the title of liberal as an honorary degree; I regard it as a license to preach the gospel of liberalism across this country. [Applause.] But I think you know why this title could be conferred on my candidacy. Just before you met, a weekly news magazine with wide circulation, featured a section entitled, “Kennedy’s Liberal Promises,” and described me, and I quote, “as the farthest-out liberal Democrat around,” unquote. While I am not certain of the “beatnik” definition of “farthest-out,” I am certain that this was not intended as a compliment. [Laughter.] And last week, as further proof of my credentials, a noted American clergyman was quoted as saying that our society may survive in the event of my election, but it certainly won’t be what it was. I would like to think he was complimenting me, but I’m not sure he was.”
– John F. Kennedy
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