By David Glenn Cox
Are we in a dream, can this all be real? Is Clarence the angel hanging around somewhere? A world where America seriously considers Donald Trump for anything besides convict? I mean, it’s embarrassing enough we can’t bring this man to legal justice. It speaks volumes for us, he’s only been committing crimes and doing these things for decades now. And yet greases the wheels and walks between the raindrops. He can blatantly commit crimes and yet walks away. It is obvious why Trump is so arrogant. Why shouldn’t he be? Al Capone could learn from this master.
You know when Richard Nixon said, “If the President does it, it can’t be a crime.” The Supreme Court voted 12 to 0 saying, no, we think you’re wrong Dick. It also didn’t take them six weeks to decide. By their decision the public felt heartened. The good ole Supreme Court, we can always count on them. Not really, but this time at least, they rose to the occasion and came through for us. They saw no other alternative, not like this bunch.
Which is why this current imitation of a Supreme Court so embarrasses itself. A judicial January 6th usurping the role of Law Judge becoming the Law Giver. “We control the picture. We control the horizontal hold.” Ideology in black robes and dog shit rolling back that distasteful “liberalism.” Supplanting it with suburban Fascism. Where they don’t hate anyone specifically, but dislike everyone generally. They wouldn’t advocate for building the camps but wouldn’t argue against them being built.
They aren’t really evil people. Only weak people easily led. Like a little kid on a bicycle, they want to follow and be a part of the parade and share in the excitement. Easy answers, He’s going to build a wall! Sure, it didn’t work in China, and didn’t work in Berlin, but maybe Texas can pull it off. Let’s spend a fortune while ignoring the real issue. And never ever ask, why are they coming? We don’t talk about Capitalism’s failures. Like a secret drinker, we just don’t talk about it.
Who owns all those factories paying those sweatshop wages? Where do those products eventually hang on the rack for sale? Anyone remember Norma Ray? Don’t these people come from so-called representative democracies? Why don’t they just fix things at home? Instead, they walk a thousand miles and cross a flaming desert and you think building a wall stop them, huh?
Anyone else remember “The Grapes of Wrath?” If I’ve seen one of those flyers, I’ve seen a hundred of them. They need three hundred workers, so they print up a thousand flyers. American companies advertise for workers in Mexican newspapers. High wages too, come to Kansas City. Learn about meat packing and industrial poverty! They aren’t coming to take your job. They were invited to come take your job!
If the car factory goes on strike for a week, it’s no big deal really, but meat won’t wait. Meat needs a vulnerable workforce too frightened to ever dream of organizing. Publicly, they don’t want the migrants here, while privately, they invited them to come. Migrants working for wages most Americans won’t tolerate. Go ahead and build a wall. They didn’t learn anything from the drug war, did they?
But a wall is tangible, it’s a symbol for the Moron club to focus their attention on, while their pockets are picked. Let’s put the ten commandments up in our grotesquely underfunded schools! Simplistic solutions for complicated problems for uncomplicated people. It couldn’t be that our workers are so poorly educated employers won’t touch us with a ten-foot pole. Alabama has taken its education system to the point where they now dominate in the landfill and trash hauling industry. Two landfills and a toxic waste dump! That means jobs for your community!
“I said, Pottersville! Don’t you think I know where I live?”
There’s a story making the rounds about Mr. Trump and his old short pole small hole fishing buddy Jeffery Epstein. As tempting as it would be to write about it. It is too prurient for publication, but from now on consider Trump’s Pee-pee tape as the home movies from Disneyland.
But Joe Biden is old. He had a poor debate. Let’s change horses in the middle of a stream. History says, that always works out so well! Isn’t that how we decide or future? By whom had a better debate? Like deciding the Indy 500 by who had the best uniforms in the Pits.
Donald Trump is a filthy criminal with a serious accent on filthy. The courts aren’t going to save us. The next President might have two Supreme Court appointments. Cinching things up forever and to the end of your days. Standing mute witness to the chloroforming of our future. The end of America as we know it. It is waiting at your doorstep. Ignore it at your own peril. It’s either Christo-Fascism or an old man. You decide.
Plane Wreck at Los Gatos
The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting,
The oranges piled in their creosote dumps;
They're flying 'em back to the Mexican border
To pay all their money to wade back again
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria;
You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane,
All they will call you will be "deportees"
My father's own father, he waded that river,
They took all the money he made in his life;
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees,
And they rode the truck till they took down and died.
Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted,
Our work contract's out and we have to move on;
Six hundred miles to that Mexican border,
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.
We died in your hills, we died in your deserts,
We died in your valleys and died on your plains.
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes,
Both sides of the river, we died just the same.
The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A fireball of lightning, and shook all our hills,
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says, "They are just deportees"
Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry leaves to rot on my topsoil
And be called by no name except "deportees"?
Woody Guthrie