Evidence very often to the contrary, I don't always like to be right.
Nor (brace yourselves, those who are arching eyebrows and rolling eyes at the moment), there are moments that I, if only secretly, hope, wish, even pray that I am, in fact, dead damn wrong.
There are, have been and, no doubt, will be plenty of occasions when I sincerely hope that my instincts are off kilter, my suspicions are misleading me and my cynicism...well, my trusty old sidekick, cynicism, is affecting my judgement.
Add to that that I've honestly never seen myself, necessarily, as particularly prescient, let alone psychic and have never had any aspirations or ambitions when it come to the art(s) of prognostication or mentalism...
...and the saying of sooths has never been a pastime, let alone a passion.
And while I'm box checking me, let's go ahead and include that, white hair and ever enlarging prostate notwithstanding, I've, good Lord willin', creek don't rise, still "got a lotta livin' (yet)...to do"...so, it's worth mentioning that you can (still) chill me, thrill me, entice me, entertain me, impress me, dazzle me, seduce me, affect me, impact me...and you can offend, insult, irritate, annoy, anger, enrage, smack, stun...even shock the (considerable) shit outta me....
But you cannot....ever.....
Surprise me.
...ever....
Never.
Ever.
Primarily because of what I know. Based on what I've experienced.
If pressed to sum up a life philosophy as succinctly as possible, I could respond with two words.
Farmer's.
Insurance.
"...I know a thing or two....cause I've seen a thing or two..."
(The trick to 'tasteful' sarcasm is in adding just the right sized smidge of "irony" to make it less hostile)
Meanwhile...
What happened on the American history timeline yesterday unleashed a tsunami of emotional reaction from sea to shining sea.
And I'd be lying if I didn't offer that I, too, reacted.
Disappointed...yup.
Pissed off...yah, you betcha.
Stunned? Only as a product of the disbelief that any group of supposedly "fair minded jurists" could be that bluntly blatant in their prejudices, their corruptions...and the spirit, if not the letter, of the oaths they took to claim the lifetime gig. (That shit needs to come to an end, too, but that's rhetoric for another place, time and rant).
Surprised?
Puh-leeze.
Anyone who has labored under the impression (pronounced "dee-loo-zhun") that this "Court" was going to come anywhere near declaring that immunity was not going to be doled out like cheap ass Chinese Red Caps that misspell the word "MAGGOT" at rallies (pronounced: "ass kissing worship orgies light years beyond nauseating") have been laboring up the wrong tree, down the wrong road or living with a head sunk so deeply in the sand or up their own ass that their ability to draw breath belongs in a new reboot version of "Ripley's Believe It Or Not".
When it comes to naivete' that can be arguably described as a case of 'reckless endangerment", the 'phrase that pays' and 'trump-ets' that ignorance is...
"..oh, for fuck's sake...that could never happen here..."
You see, the mass of mixed mental acuity hilariously, if not tragically, referred to as "we, the people" still, after all this time, has failed to log on and download to their own particular hard drive of a cerebellum another phrase that should have, by now, found its way to the number one slot on the ol' hit parade....bumping that "never happen here" malarkey right off the charts...
"Nothing....absolutely nothing....EVER happens....until it happens the first time."
But let's put a pin in that.
And return to today's thematic.
Pinholes.
The "Court" ruling that essentially converts democracy into sovereignty consists of one hundred and nineteen pages of legal mumbo jumbo (pronounced: double talkin' horse shit) that will be (is being) researched, resected, dissected, discussed, debated and analyzed most surely (bet the farm) to the point of giving birth to that oldie but goodie....
"paralysis of analysis..."
Allow me to spare you the possibility of being paralyzed and/or spending the next few days/weeks/months confused, conflicted or crazy, unable to get a clear picture of the big picture because the noise is too noisy and the smoke is too smoky and the mumbo just has too much fucking jumbo.
It turns out...that there is such a thing as 'a little bit pregnant'.
For our attention span challenged audience, let's use our weather map editing Sharpie and simplify, distilling the whole kaboodle to twelve words.
"...actually...there is now officially one person who is above the law"
Under "normal" circumstances, there would be only minor 'cause for alarm', an interpretation of law that would certainly trigger tons (and tons and...) of debate, discussion, dissent, da do ron ron. And rightly so, for it really does open not just a can but, at least, a fifty gallon barrel of legal/Constitutional worms that would/could/can/will be, metaphorically, sliced and diced for years, if not generations, to come.
But under those "normal" circumstances, we could/would take some comfort/relief in knowing that 'the President" whoever that might be at any given time, could be counted on to honor the vows made in his/her oath of office (you know, that catchy "preserve, protect and defend" thing that has become less valuable on paper than a CVS receipt).
We could, if only just enough, rely on the integrity, intelligence and authentic patriotism of that president. Trusting that while a ruling like that would be comparable to handing someone a loaded weapon capable of mass murder, that person could be relied upon to store it safely and take it out when, if and only the situation was so dire that locking, loading, even opening fire were last resorts.
Desperate times...and all that other now poetic bullshit.
But while these are most certainly desperate times, we are a million miles, and another million after that, from a time of "normal circumstances"
"Normal circumstances" took their first potentially fatal hit almost a decade ago. When a cheap and tawdry carnival barker with an uproarious combover and a stunningly sloppy spray on "tan" rode a cheap and tawdry faux gold escalator down to a gathering of media monkeys and announced that he had decided to gift America with his unequaled brilliance and make it 'great again'.
The second, now almost inevitably terminal gut punch, was delivered November 8, 2016 when the Electoral College set an all time high in its own long list of outcomes that proved, beyond any thing resembling a reasonable doubt, that it (the "College") needed to be dismantled, deconstructed, dissasembled and reassembled at some cheesy Interstate exit "World's Greatest Fuck Ups"tourist trap...
...or maybe even as a display in the Smithsonian, proving to future generations of Americans that even the Founding Fathers were just decent humans, subject to stumbling and committing big, bad boners.
January 6?
Well, one could offer that it should have been the final, fatal blow.
But, damn it, ol Lady Liberty (known in other woods necks as "Debbie Democracy) was like Rocky Balboa slamming it out with Mr. T....refusing to stay down...determined to get back up...
And...one assumes that July 1, 2024 comes next.
And the stinging Rosie Republic face smack that tries to disguise, via one hundred and nineteen pages of legalese/mumbo jumbo, that there is now, officially, one person in the United States of America who is above the laws of the United States of America.
Actually, July 1st being bad enough, there's a darker, more ominous calendar date lurking.
Get your circling pen in hand...and flip the page(s) to January 20th.
2025.
On that day, current conditions being what they are, it's not a particularly risky gamble to bet that the Electoral College will top (lower) itself, shatter its own infamous record...and hand back over the keys to 1600 Pennsylvania to the same cheap and tawdry carnival barker with the uproarious combover and stunningly sloppy spray on "tan" it rented to eight years ago.
A clinical sociopath who has made it crystal clear in words and actions that he has no interest whatsoever in any thing....any...thing...that doesn't meet his personal demands, satisfy his personal addictions and cater to his wishes and whims.
An immeasurable narcissist celluarly incapable of demonstrating integrity, intelligence or respect for any rule, regulation or law that doesn't honor...him, himself...and only him and wouldn't recognize integrity, intelligence, respect and/or honor....
...if it grabbed him firmly by the pussy.
Six "justices" on the Supreme "Court" have issued a ruling that they insultingly insist provides a President immunity to criminal prosecution "only in certain circumstances".
Here's a quick couple of lesser known/used legal terms.
Bullshit.
Horseshit.
Think of the rule of law as a condom.
And the orange carnival barker is determined, and fully intending, to impregnate.
As of July 1, he no longer needs to force himself into the national vagina.
He simply needs to succeed in the seduction.
Six "jurists" have given Donald Trump a pinhole.
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