Republicans: Spare us the last-minute repudiation. Donald J. Trump is your candidate and your party. You had a primary. Held up every potential candidate who had a modicum of talent, including a joker like Dr. Ben Carson. Primary voters chose Trump overwhelmingly. You had a convention. You let him run the whole show. You let him cover the stage in gold and flags and family members and megalomania and neo-fascist rhetoric. You let him claim he was the only person from Hawai'i to Presque Isle, Maine who could "save" America. You anointed him the leader of the party with no reservations. You had a network of strategists and apparatchiks and media proxies. They joined the Trump campaign and ran him like they would have any other candidate. You had every opportunity to unearth opposition research and lay him out. You didn't. You had every opportunity to walk away and choose another candidate to run as a third party. You could have formed "The Conservative Party," which half of you claim to belong to any time the Republicans do something embarrassing. You didn't. You had every chance to react to any one of the man's outrages against this democracy, from his full-throated love of torture, to his unchecked contempt for the separation of powers, to his utter disinterest in our most cherished values. Instead, more and more Republicans crawled to his side, from Newt Gingrich to Chris Christie to Ted Cruz. Don't you dare now pretend that bragging about his sexual assault of rich married women is somehow a problem for you simply because it will destroy your brand with those very white female voters for whom you also have flagrant contempt. You won't be faithful to the Constitution. You won't be faithful to the principles of conservatism. You won't be faithful to your fellow citizens. Fine. Then at least be faithful to Donald J. Trump. He is what you wanted. This is the outcome you wanted. You deserve to get it good and hard.
For all the women in my life, I'm shocked to have to get into this topic in 2016, but apparently a whole bunch of dudebros need clarification. I guess, just like when I was at college, there are still a bunch of penis-havers roaming around with a whole lotta confusion around the rather thick boundaries between consensual fun sexy-time and felony sexual assault. I thought up this little quiz to help guide the young people and their parents who seem to have received little training in interpersonal relationships and criminal statutes. >>> 1. So you're apparently having sex. Hooray! What got you to this meritorious and joyful moment in life with this particular lady? A) My deep and insightful interpretation of Lennon/McCartney lyrics B) My sweet dance moves C) Rohypnol, ketamine, alcohol, and some powder a frat brother gave me to make sure she doesn't go into respiratory distress right away 2. The sex part has begun. Hooray! Which description best fits your lady and her current physical activities? A) There is this delightful flush around her neck B) She is looking in my eyes deeply and challenging me to act like a combination of Odin, Zeus, and Shiva while she yodels passionately C) Her pupils do not respond to light and she is unable to protect her own airway 3. You have completed the sexual act. Hooray! What do you do now that you've made it to the other side of this activity? A) We glow, laugh knowingly, and go back to whatever we were watching on Netflix before we decided to chill B) One of us composes a sonnet to the other and recites it with great sincerity as the heat dissipates C) One of us sneaks off hoping there were no witnesses while the other is marked with contusions, abrasions, and has hair and skin full of pine needles and rocks >>> I gather that the father of a certain university rapist has attempted to make sexual assault out to be some fuzzy line that is open to interpretation, or even something that could euphemistically be called "action." He is a monster. The line isn't fuzzy. It's marked by pine needles and rocks and blood.
Trump being debate coached by foreign national with new show on Kremlin TV. theguardian.com/politics/2016/…
Guys. GUYS. I watched the whole thing last night. I was surrounded by strangers and by the end of it we all swapped numbers and hugged and swore we would keep in touch, since nobody would understand how our lives had changed. Nothing would be the same. For reasons too horrible to even explain, I was dead sober, utterly bereft of Fireball OR freebased NyQuil. There was no hiding, no softening, no pretending - at least not from the inside out. I was abandoned to my wits, my ability to rationalize the assault of words and images and fantastical policy positions and references to penis size. It just happened to us, over us, on us. BAD TOUCH! BAD TOUCH! I now feel a bond with Megyn Kelly. We've both been through so much. She has such a strength, a poise in the face of horror, I found myself all night just wanting to take her away, to embrace her, to tell her it will be OK one day, many years from now. I wanted to give her a fluffy bathrobe and plunk her in front of a fire and hand her cocoa and just let her recover. I hope she lives a full, happy life full of love from now on. Oh God, the horror...the horror... John Kasich has now been elected America's Dad Who Is Sick of This Shit. He threatened to pull the debate over AND NO CHUCK E. CHEESE FOR ANY OF YOU IF THIS BEHAVIOR CONTINUES. He told them to sit their keisters down and be serious already. But it was to no avail. The other 75% of the stage was taken up by Marco Rubio, exhibiting the joy of a man waiting for a colonoscopy, and Ted Cruz, your first spouse's divorce attorney... ...and The Master. I don't think clinical psychology ever envisioned a Godzilla scenario, where instead of nuclear radiation from a fallen asteroid, a malignant narcissist was given the of ego supply of all seven billion people at once and became an unstoppable monster. Psychiatrists never write science-fiction, apparently, which would have been the only way to even conceive of last night's maelstrom of semi-sanity and raging lunacy. It started with compensation for dick size and went from there. The Master was untouchable, unfathomable, inescapable, ethereal, blisteringly fucking nuts. He ate contradictions and shit out bumper sticker slogans. He consumed criticism and expelled tirades that would make fourth-grade mean girls question their own dignity. He referred to the inability to hold a major policy position for 24 hours in a row as the kind of flexibility necessary for business success. He referred to his business failures as business success. He converted a D- rating of Trump University by the Better Business Bureau into an A rating by the Better Business Bureau, and when given direct facts to the contrary, simply re-concluded that he had an A because it must be an A, quod erat demonstrandum, you fuckers. Marco Rubio spluttered a thing and The Master just called him a little guy and a liar and dared him to knife a bitch. Of course, no shiv was coming. Ted Cruz tried to get you to Ted Cruz.ORG not .COM, because just go check it out. Everybody implicitly called Republican primary voters a bunch of reckless swine ciphers for a Manchurian candidate something something please don't. The Master just became larger, swelling, expanding, a gas and a solid, a liquid and a plasma of pure self-regarding divinity, the Alpha and the Omega of the species, the pinnacle of evolution and its end, the explanation for the human race and the conclusion of why it was a dubious idea. And then he got some momentum going. Crime, which has dropped by 50% since 1990, has become a huge problem under Not Reagan leadership. Kids who graduate from Harvard and Yale and Princeton have to emigrate to Belgium and Sierra Leone, apparently, just to get a job with their stupid degree and the best social connections in the world. Detroit, which became the fourth richest city on the planet just twenty years after FDR's New Deal collapsed because of left-wing politics, such as during a Reagan and two Bushes. Mexico will pay for a wall to keep itself out of a place to which its people are emigrating with plummeting frequency because the deal en el Norte isn't as good as twenty years ago. Leadership means that the military will do illegal shit like a torture because LEADER SAID SO, which totally doesn't sound terrifying in the original German. He said nice things about Vladimir Putin, which means that Putin said something nice about him not the other way around until the video goes up of him saying something nice at which point this is just about that other thing LOOK I'M A LEADER YOU WILL LOVE ME ALSO I LEAD THINGS LOOK FOREIGN POLICY IS ABOUT GETTING ALONG BE QUIET LEADER SHUT UP YOURE A LIAR TEDCRUZ Everybody who ever argued with a drunk or married someone with a personality disorder shuddered and coughed and watched in mute horror oh my God it's like Uncle Bob and Aunt Sally Dad shut up that's not fair to say God honey why can't you argue fair and give me another bourbon and bourbon hold the soda water oh Jesus I can't change my hair color or move far enough away to get away from this oh God is this on TV? The Master didn't even look tired. He was and is just warming up. John Kasich told us all he was an adult for the fifth time, which is like arguing with Kindergarteners that you ARE TOO IN CHARGE without actually making a parental decision or putting somebody in actual time out. Ted Cruz begged for it to stop. Marco Rubio lost his chance to knife a bitch. The Master's pulse never went above 64. He was in his element, finally on the level of which he had always dreamed. He's not trying to win. He is already winning. You lost long ago, unless you serve him, in which case this is heaven. It is the First Year of the Master. We shall burn all the books and celebrate his munificent rule or DIE IN OUR FUTILE RESISTANCE. Sober and traumatized and ecstatic and ready for transcendence, I... ..oh God...it's...FULL OF STARS. IT'S FULL OF STARS. I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO THE FLAG OF THE UNITED... *sirens approach from the distance*