A Trumpet’s sleaze
Back in the early ’80s, us locals were regaled regularly by one of the zestier bands to ever rock the sagebrush, The Virons. We didn’t know at that time how righteously seditious this twisted combo truly was. We just showed up, got liquored up, and danced our asses off. One of their show stoppers was a blazing rocker called “Indiscriminate Rage”:
“I’m gonna walk down the street, in Washington D.C./ I’m gonna mace everybody that I see!/ Because this indiscriminate rage is comin’ over me!”
I hereby nominate “I.R.” to be the song you hear when you’re put on hold calling the Democratic National Committee. Either that, or get it re-recorded by some appropriately badass rapper.
One of the reasons for this rage right now has to do with the recent remarks made by the truly deplorable Carl Paladino. You saw what he said. I don’t have to reprint his comments here. His “season’s greetings” for Barack and Michelle were straight out of the mind of some racist Alabama sheriff in 1943, only Paladino happens to be Trump’s campaign chairman for New York in 2016. For a visible higher-up on Team Trump to spew sewer sludge like this and not be instantly censured and offed is another indication that the nazi puke fringe of The New Republican Party is going to be tolerated in a way that would’ve been unimaginable in the day of Reagan, Eisenhower or even Dubya.
By the way, Carl, my man, you should know that your comments about the extremely decent Obamas pretty much describe the hopes nice, reasonable folks have for you for 2017. Isn’t that ironic? Not that we’re thinking of a case of mad cow disease, as you so classily and respectfully fantasized for the POTUS. No, I was thinking more along the lines of endless skull-splitting migraines or maybe a truly nasty outbreak of FAS (fatal anal shingles), but then finally settled on you passing out in your car on train tracks some cold Buffalo night and then getting splattered into a foul-smelling grease spot by a speeding Amtrak. How totally dreamy. HNY, pal!
You know how Democrats like to say, “When they go low, we go high?” Well, screw that. Admirable sentiment? Sure. Productive? Uh, not really. I’m sick to death of Dems getting kicked in the nuts and then offering a fresh pair of testicles. You say hacking, fake news and obstructionism are now part of The New Politics? Bring it, sucka.
For starters, how about somebody hacking and then posting Trump’s taxes? Now that would be a score—juicy, informative fun. Let the cyber-pranking begin!