Mike Peters (KFS)’s cartoon has convinced me that, like the chaplain in Catch-22, I’m either in the midst of a hallucination or on the verge of sainthood, because I appear to be the only one with a vision of Herschel Walker and Donald Trump that dates from well before the present.
It was neither deja vu, presque vu nor jamais vu. It was possible that there were other vus of which he had never heard and that one of these other vus would explain succinctly the baffling phenomenon of which he had both been a witness and a part.
But, no, there they were: Photographic proof of a partnership that resulted in the utter destruction of a successful sports league at the hands of an egotistical blowhard who let ambition overrule common sense.
We’ve had hints. The fact that Walker has lied about his academic achievements stems in part from the fact that he dropped out of college so Donald Trump could sign him to the USFL’s New Jersey Generals in violation of the league’s determination not to recruit underclassmen.
It’s only one part of a story of narcissistic failure, but it’s relevant as Walker once more becomes the focus of a phony effort, one that could end a nation instead of simply a multi-million dollar league.
It sparked an ESPN documentary that is available on line, as well as a fascinating seven-minute video interview with the author of a book on the fiasco.
Here’s the trailer for the ESPN piece:
But it’s not about sports, any more than the failure of Trump University was about education or the demise of Trump Steaks was about beef.
Not beef. Just bullshit.
It can seem amusing, as when Clay Jones reduces Walker’s lies and hypocrisy to an exaggerated farce.
What’s not amusing is how many people have ignored Walker’s blatant dishonesty and obvious incapacity, just as they have ignored the ignorance and incapacity of other empty vessels being planted in public office to vote as the puppetmasters direct.
Keith Knight plows through the steaming pile of hypocrisy to remind us that, even before Roe v Wade, rank had its privileges and those with money and connections could always find a friendly physician to conduct a purported-and-perfectly-legal D&C on their daughters and mistresses, though clumsy local laws may now be making that loophole problematic.
More to the point is the fact that people with regular health care from an established practitioner are in a better position to ask for special treatment than are poor people who wander from clinic to clinic getting erratic and inconsistent diagnoses from whoever is available at the moment.
It’s an argument not just against voting for straw dog candidates, but a reason to vote for people who genuinely embrace an inclusive social contract.
Juxtaposition of the Day
We should also be concerned about the offshoots of the Big Lie that have rallied the rightwing over a sense of resentment not only out of proportion to any actual impact on anyone, but out of kilter with Big Brother’s own rhetoric, an ongoing Two Minutes Hate in which loyalty is measured by shouts, screams and confrontations with Those Others.
As Wuerker points out, it’s in complete denial of the call for “freedom” and to “get big government off our backs.” The latest scene in this farce has been threats to investigate private industry if they fail to donate to GOP campaigns which seems ideologically consistent with Ron DeSantis’s proposal for the Florida government to punish Disney for failure to salute.
For those who slept through eighth grade civics, the system in which the central government regulates and controls industry is called “Communism.” And the GOP hates communists, by which MTG apparently means anyone who opposes her, but mostly Democrats.
All of which, as Sutton documents, feeds into the bizarre, fear-driven accusation that those commies are “snowflakes” and that we need manly conservatives to lead us.
When they aren’t wetting their pants over every imagined offense and every person or way of life different than their own.
Twit Watch
Jen Sorensen brings us up to date on the Rise and Fall of Twitter, tracing it from a fun hangout to a forum for sometimes acrimonious debate to a flood of disinformation to an ego trip that rivals that of the Orange God King, which is likely why Trump has, so far, declined reinstatement.
Two such inflated egos in the same room would be explosive, especially if Trump were not in charge. You might as well wonder if he would agree to run as VP on a Ron Desanctimonious presidential ticket.
Daniel Boris got some fun out of it, with a well-crafted homage to a transformed Warner Brothers monster.
While Zapiro framed Musk in an old, familiar pose as the dog who caught a car and had no idea what to do next, the best part of this being the utterly perplexed, somewhat frightened dog, compared to the “I meant to do that” calm of the equally helpless Musk.
And if Musk isn’t perplexed and somewhat frightened about his situation, he’s farther out of his depth than previously suspected. The more he blathers on line, the more he reminds me of Pee Wee Herman, the difference being that Pee Wee Herman is a fictional character and Elon Musk only appears to be one.
Beth Cravens asks the relevant question of whether or not, as he seems to be slipping the surly bonds of sanity, Musk is even thinking of how it will impact the businesses he actually has successfully launched.
Note, BTW, that, while he has a degree in physics, there’s no indication he has ever changed a tire, much less designed an electric vehicle, far less a rocket ship. He hired people who knew how to do those things.
This time, he’s playing DIY, and he’s also got a business degree from Trump’s alma mater, which ought to print on diplomas “Don’t try this at home.”
For those who came in late, Cathy Wilcox explains the whole thing, and why, perhaps, you might not want to wait around to help with the clean-up when the party ends.
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