Sunday, August 23, 2015

Clown Syndrome

Everything you need to know about Trump's appeal (such as it is) is summed up in this here article, including its main photograph. His fat-old-cracker ratio is nearly perfect; aside from that, not so much. And he's leading in five of our most useless states, most of which fall squarely into the typical red-state paradigm of low quality-of-life metrics, and aside from Florida and Texas, take more than they contribute in federal revenue.

This is a consistent dynamic, the takers who think they're makers, the stereotypical teabagger who fancies himself a rugged individualist, even though he'll be goddamned if he'll stop collecting his Social Security even after he's recouped what he put in, and he's got a brother-in-law on the public tit. These are the same fucking rubes who bought into Sarah Palin, and still hold out hope that she'll become Trump's running mate. These dipshit crackers would write in the ghost of Lester Maddox or Bull Connor if they could.

It will be fun (and hilarious!) to watch their inevitable caterwauling after their latest wampeter lets them down. There is no other possible outcome, unless every minority and everyone under forty just decides not to vote, or loses their collective fucking mind. The bottom line is, the demographics are just not there; the angry old assholes may vote 100% of the time, but there are fewer of them than they suppose. The idea that Alabama might be remotely representative of the nation as a whole would keep most of us up at night, if it weren't so ludicrous.

The Democrats oughta send Trump a thank-you card when this is all over. There is a very good chance that, as the silly season continues and solidifies, Mister Man's campaign will be the catalyzing event that either demolishes a reeling party, or in the event of an early third-party bail by Trump, allows it to jettison its nutjob base and begin a return to some version of sanity.

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