Remember when you were a dumbass teenager of some misbegotten age or other, and by either luck or devious measures you managed to score a bottle of some sort of liquor. It was almost certainly not good liquor; if you were lucky it was something merely nasty like extra-cheap Victoria's Secretions gin that tasted of dollar store aftershave, or Stalin's Toilet brand pure wood chip vodka. Less lucky and it was some flavored liqueur like Lady Pox brand creme de menthe or Satan's Semen Cinnamon Popskull, or maybe one of the criminally awful Z grade fortified wines like Thundertrain Derailment or Night Bird Poop.
Whatever the case, you and a friend or two had yourself a party with this jug 'o fun.
You got hammered. You got blitzed. You got blotto. You had one hell of a good time, at least for a while.
Then you also got sick. Puking on your shoes sick. Blowing groceries with the force of a fired bazooka sick. Stomach lining coming out your nose sick.
America got drunk on the cheap shit this election. Made choices about as smart as knocking back ten Dixie cups full of banana flavored rum on a dinner of hot dogs and gummy worms. America poisoned itself for the hell of it, and because it could, and because it wasn't thinking straight.
So America has tied one on with knots even a panel of sailors, surgeons, and macramé mavens couldn't take apart. The next couple years are going to be rough. But there is hope.
Once this new crop of whack jobs joins with the crazies we already have in office, and they get their clown car* up to full speed with their mindless anti-science and anti-logic excesses, brutal overreaches, unending grinning masturbatory Obamacare repeal votes, corporate-driven cruelties to workers and consumers, and paid for indulgences for eco-crimes, hate- and fear-mongering, smirking misogyny, race-baiting, mania for voter suppression, and general separation from reality, their antics will trigger a gag reflex that gets them thrown up--and out.
We've always had these crazy pendulum swings. This one is as extreme as some Vomit Comet carnival ride, taken while blind drunk with a gut-full of catsup-flavored, spray-cheese filled funnel cakes and lard and pickle-flavored cotton candy.
So keep on being rational, thoughtful, caring, and keep trying to make America a better place for real people, not corporate golems and the gilt toads of the 1%. You know what to do on that end. Keep on fighting the good fight.
And please keep a safe distance when the reflux comes.
America's going to blow lunch bigtime, and the stuff it has swallowed is already pretty disgusting. Afterward, as always, we'll clean up the mess, offer them a breath mint, let them go sleep it off, and try to get some good things done before the next binge.
*Bumpersticker: I DRIVE CONSERVATIVELY - I SWERVE TO RUN OVER THE POOR