The Person I Least Want to Talk About

Donald Trump. That’s who I don’t want to talk about. His lawsuits are in the news, so I feel a little bit compelled to talk in that direction.

How the hell did we get to this point? A demagogue with no redeeming qualities is heralded by about a third of the country as the dearest of leaders, and now he’s finally subpoenaed to stand and answer questions regarding the shitshow he stirred up on January 6th, 2021. Of course, he’s really only going to be compelled if the democrats retain control of The House.

And I’m just so, so sick of it. A criminal should not be dodging justice as a matter of political discourse. Right? Am I alone in thinking that’s a fucked up way to run things?

Quick aside… the grammar genie that lives in this application is telling me that I should have said “fucked-up,” using a hyphen. Thank you, grammar genie. I’m going to ignore you for now, but I appreciate you for not judging me on my use of profanity.

Where was I? Oh yeah. That fucking guy.

I really don’t want to talk about him anymore. I don’t want him taking up oxygen when there are so many other things to worry about. Climate crisis. Wealth inequality. Covid.

He had four years in office that he could have addressed any of that, but he wasn’t interested in anything but himself. He held rallies. He played golf. He made sure people used his hotels.

That’s four years we’re never going to get back. I don’t want to think how many more years we’re going to have to deal with the idiots he emboldened. The anti-vaxers. The pro-Russia, anti-American idiots that watch for Q drops and spout off that they’re the true Americans when they stand for none of the ideals delineated in our Constitution. Nothing but the 2nd Amendment, anyway, and their interpretation of that lacks merit. Red hat wearing, loud mouthed assholes that proudly announce that there never was a pandemic, and that Covid is just the flu.

Maybe I’ve been hitting the cough medicine a little hard tonight and I shouldn’t be saying these things. I know at least one person that would encourage me to take a lighter approach and try to be understanding.

Look. Listen. Let me be clear.

If after all of the bullshit you’re still a Trump loving redcap, you and I are not friends. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t need you to read my stories. I don’t want you in my life. I don’t know how you found me or this blog, but the exit is that way. I’m not going to try to save you. I want nothing to do with you.

That’s not a very nice thing for me to say, I know. But I’m not trying to be a nice guy. I want to be a sweet man. I want to be a good man, and Trump’s followers are not good people. Some of them may be suckers at this point, but I don’t care. There have been plenty of opportunities to get off that train. The “grab ’em by the pussy” guy, the one that cheated on his wife while she was pregnant with his son, has shown you who he is every day for years. If you’re a good person, you should not be following him or buying his snake oil.

Okay. Big sigh. That was cathartic.

Tomorrow, I’ll try to write something with a little less vitriol. I guess I just needed to get that off my chest.

And to keep this post at least a little bit writing related… damn. The last half decade sure has given me a lot of good material to use when writing about a dystopia.