I’m not big on the Founding Fathers. We hold them up too high.
I think we say things without thinking about the meaning. For instance, what in the Hell is The Black Community? And how do I get in? Thank God there’s no White Community. Unless you’re talking about Trump Voters. But that’s not a community, that’s a cult of the sick and broken.
I was talking to my college roommate, Vinny Vegas. We were getting a kick out of watching Mitch McConnell throw a temper tantrum on the floor of the Senate on the day after Donald Trump was Impeached. Nancy Pelosi refused to submit the Articles Of Impeachment until Mitch McConnell laid out the terms of the Senate Hearing which caused Moscow Mitch to choke on a pierogi.
“The Founding Fathers had a marvelous idea,” Vinny Vegas said. “They understood kings and they wanted to protect us from a president who thought of himself as a king.”
“The Founding Fathers hated women,” I said. “They owned slaves. The truth is, if they were around they’d identify with Mitch McConnell. You know what they never anticipated? Barack Obama. You know what else they never anticipated? Nancy Pelosi.”
“Yes,” he said. “True! But in their day, they were forward thinking. Guys like Mitch McConnell, in the beginning of our Democracy, those would have been the guys arguing for allegiance to the crown. Today they’d be the AOC’s, the Rashida Tlaibs, The Greg Morelli’s.”
“Ok,” I said. “I like these Founding Fathers. They’re badass, sexy! I’m with you. Can they smoke pot and free non-violent drug offenders? Can they offer Health Care For All and free college? Can they banish all billionaires to the Planet Plunder?”
“Of course,” he said. “I would expect nothing less.”
On Impeachment Eve, Eddie Gee took me to the march at Federalist Plaza in Chicago. I have good friends. They know what excites me. Justice excites me. Holding this administration accountable for White Nationalist Insanity excites me. Marching when it’s 3 degrees below zero with the wind chill excites me.
“Bro,” Eddie Gee said. “It’s a disorder at this point. If you’re not horrified, if you’re not embarrassed, if you still think this guy was a good idea then I can never again respect you. I know you think he’s getting a second term, and you think you’re so damn clever for thinking he’s getting a second term, but the midterm numbers don’t tell that story. I don’t even want to say his name, that’s how turned-off I am.”
“President Trump,” I said.
“Bro,” he said. “Why you gotta bum a fella out?”
My mom texted me a picture of the New York Times. On the cover is a picture of Donald Trump standing at the podium with the presidential seal, his favorite photo-op, only the headline reads this: Trump Impeached, Becomes Third President To Face Trial In The Senate. He can call it The Failing New York Times, but I’d give him 10 to 1 odds that all the newsstands sold out today and I’d lay a bet on those odds at Trump Taj Mahal…but it went bankrupt.
So you tell me, Mr. President, who’s the failure?
To the freshmen congresswomen who came to Washinigton bruising for a fight, Merry Impeach-Mas. To the Ghost of Elijah Cummings who will forever be the cornerman of the dispossessed, Merry Impeach-Mas. To the Speaker of the House who checked her list twice, who used Schiff and Nadler to find out who’s naughty or nice, Merry Impeach-Mas. To the Founding Fathers, to the Founding Mothers, to the Gender-Fluid Non-Binary Founding Founders, Merry Impeach-Mas. To the Senate Majority Leader who’s stocking is stuffed with a lump of coal, 30 acres of self-importance and Merrick Garland’s mule, Merry Impeach-Mas.
Tis The Season to Impeach the Motherfucker!