Now that the shouting, the lawsuits, and the riots are over, the 2020 election has been contrived in the traditional American way by shouting, lawsuits, and riots. This week, voters put on their hazmat suits, climbed into their armored vehicles and fought their way to the smoking ruins of their local churches, libraries or schools to finally get a chance to cast their vote for either the abrasive orange guy or the corrupt senior, senile, communist front-man. It was an election day that took us back to some of our most historic moments like the Civil War and, well, that is pretty much it.
As we look out over the mighty land from the burning buildings of Philadelphia to the homeless people crapping on the streets of San Francisco, many Americans are feeling what is either a warm sense of pride or a fever of 104. True, this year has been a tough one with a pandemic, a souring economy, and Kamala Harris's horrible, abominable, sardonic laughter grating in our ears like what fingernails on a chalkboard sound like (if they were anywhere near as bad as Kamala Harris's horrible, hideous, execrable laughter). Rather than allow these troubles to defeat us, we have allowed them to reduce us to a nation of sniveling, mask-wearing, stay-at-homes, quivering in terror at the sight of our own fingertips.
As the great spectacle of American Democracy unfolded before us, like a multi-car collision on a winding two-lane road over a 400-foot drop into a rocky ravine already flaming with the wreckage of the many cars that went before us, who doesn't call to mind the rocket’s red glare and the bombs bursting in air and how those moving words better describe Portland, Oregon. We have made our choice between four more years of panic and hysteria or one more year of the American Republic followed by whatever the democrats grind us into. But whatever happens, we can be proud of the fact that we live in the freest, richest, most powerful corporate oligarchy ever to collapse into chaos and oppression.
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