Two Trillion Brags

This morning President Trump bragged about spending Two Trillion Dollars on the military. When you spend this kind of money, why do you need to brag?

It’s never enough. I’ve never seen such an insecure man. It’s never enough. He needs his name on buildings. He needs his name on airplanes. He needs to see his name tweeted and retweeted until breaking news literally breaks. But I don’t blame him. This is clearly a child who lacks impulse control. This is what happens when oppositional defiance disorder is bailed out instead of letting the consequences reshape integrity.

If you voted for this White Supremacist Child, then you are a White Supremacist Child. You are what you eat. There’s no other way to see it, as surely as the world slips into WWIII.

We’re already there but no one can bother slowing down long enough to notice. It’s the disease of our time, we’re all so hooked on momentum that we’ve forgotten how to dance and what is dancing if not slowing down to connect to the beat, the moment, the dawn.

When the bombs are finally dropped, I will dance in the dawn of the mushroom cloud.

Imagine a president who brags about having Greta over to re-write the Paris Accords in crayons (since maybe it’s the only thing the Republican Children will understand, crayons). Imagine a president who gives everyone on the Supreme Court noogies until they overturn Citizens United. Imagine a president who overpays teachers. Write this on the blackboard 100 times: You Don’t Negotiate With Teachers, You Overpay Them. Imagine a president who balances the books while putting criminal bankers behind bars. Imagine a president who wipes out student debt, who celebrates transgender kids, who finds Two Trillion for reparations.

This is not hard to imagine. I live in Illinois where recreational marijuana became the law of the land on the first day of the new year but despite what you might be thinking right now, I’m not high. I lost interest in the buzz of weed. I no longer require the camaraderie of stoners. Something in me flipped and now I get off on making payroll and I get a real jolt of electricity knowing the White Supremacist Movement took an enormous shot at me and all the way through it, I never stopped making payroll. I’m still making payroll.

When the bombs are finally dropped, I’ll give everyone working for me a raise.

Remember the surplus? We used to have a surplus until George W. Bush used his daddy’s buddies on The White Supremacist Court to steal the White House so he could cut taxes and declare war, bankrupting America. We have been killing people all over the world indiscriminately the only difference between then and now is that now we brag about it on Twitter. Pathetic!

When the bombs are finally dropped, I’ll bathe myself in hummus.

I was  living in New York City when the planes hit the buildings. I’ll never forget how quiet it was that morning, the blue of the sky and the smell. You can’t tune in for the smell. It wasn’t on CNN. It wasn’t on MSNBC. It wasn’t on FOX. It was on the streets of New York, on every corner. You couldn’t escape it. Donald Trump bragged on that day about the towers falling and his building now becoming the tallest building in New York. I don’t blame him for the brag. I don’t begrudge him for the brag. I would expect nothing less but he carries the stank.

So do I. So do you. We allowed this to happen.

When the bombs are finally dropped, I’ll throw a ticker tape parade in my honor using Two Trillion Dollars as confetti.

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