Numb. 1022 THE DOW: 'Sup, Dog?

DOW ENDS THE YEAR
  AT ALL-TIME HIGH

            ———————

Does this mean THE DOW wants us to die?

Is Covid-19 good for the market?

Whence came this rally? Did Covid spark it?

Do diseases and markets move so in tandem?

What's going on? Is it ALL random?

A celebration of Trumpish “successes”?

Relief at his passing? My best guess is. (Moral less-es.)

Are world markets demonstrating perversity?

Or are they showing strength in adversity?

OR, like the rest of us, do they not understand

and simply meander, proceeding as “planned”,

discounting reality along the way.

(“Fiddle-dee-dee, tomorrow is another day”?)

Have they no inkling?

Is it Magical Thinking?

Wishes as horses, beggars all flying,

denying disease, denying dying?

Numb. 1021 January 6: Pence And Suspense

What WILL Mike do in one week's time?

Will he follow Fat Donald's orders?

Will he say their defeat was a crime,

blame socialist FAKE NEWS reporters?

Will he claim, in the name of his lord,

their “loss” was due to electoral fraud?

That Trump/Pence triumphed, a BIGLY landslide?

That GOP governors are traitors who lied?

That judges who Fat Donald installed

are Dems-in-disguise who should be keel-hauled?

That the cowardly 6-3 SUPREMES

are treating Donald exceeding mean,

refusing him his due recompense

solely because he has no evidence?

Evidence? Schmevidence! Mere technicality.

What Donald wishes, THAT IS legality.

One way or the other it is ending soon.

Can Donald prevail? “We'll see.” Stay tuned.

Numb. 1020 A Libertarian Take On Vaccine Distribution

Lunch is not free.

Why should vaccine be?

We DO NOT approve.

All must pay

is what we say.

Those who cannot

should be removed

in any manner deemed expeditious.

Though some may say this is malicious,

it is, in the main, highly propitious.

Opposing views we find suspicious.

It is insane to try to deny

the lower orders deserve to die.

Numb. 1019 Brinksmanship On The Sinking Ship

“Mr. President, it’s time to end this dark charade … you’re cheering for an undemocratic coup … King Lear of Mar-a-Lago, ranting about the corruption of the world.”

Et tu, Rupert? 

Then fall Cæsar!

Kid-DING!

Obviously!

A joke. (NOT a lie!)

No Trump or Cæsar,

can really die.

We live forever,

our names festooned

on tombstones of countries

we lead to doom.

The world is ours.

A personal toy.

If we so choose,

ours to destroy.

Proud GOP, flock to my banners.

Do not even think Sic semper tyrannis.

Numb. 1018 Good Peoples' Dilemma (or Uneasy Lie The Heads)

For he that is not against us is on our part. — Mark 9:40 (KJV)

He that is not with me is against me … — Matthew 12:30 (KJV)

If only everyone thought as we did,

it would be heaven on earth.

… UN-less they pretended and this deceit

was intended to hide their mocking and mirth

at our beliefs, our righteous ways,

of the goodness in us inherent.

If they, instead of nodding their heads,

in private espoused viewpoints aberrant,

opposing what we KNOW is true, 

secretly scheming and plotting

the overthrow of the status quo,

claiming — inanely! — it's actually rotten

from deep within, from some ancient “sin”

which, were it true, we'd wish forgotten.

Who can we turn to, who can we trust,

who, truly, is on our side?

Can we keep faith with those who “agree”?

How can we know they are not lying?

Are they all in the enemy's thrall?

Could be they are. We'd best kill them all.

Numb. 1017 Greetings

WHEN they graduated from law school eight close friends,

Aram G. Bemerian

William A. Bright

Frederick Douglas Days

Hussein En-Mayal

Angela Mayor

Roger W. M. Musserbee III

Tinisha X. White

and Iris C. Yorkris,

despite their varying backgrounds, interests and political leanings, vowed to one day form their own firm. 

TWENTY-FOUR years flew by.

 

THOUGH they had kept “in touch” through the alumni bulletin and annual December holiday letters, dispersed as they were to major firms (law and otherwise), private practice, politics, elected and appointed office, they had forgotten their plan until last December when each, completely unbeknownst to all others, mentioned it in the annual letter.

RECOGNIZING that this had to be more than a remarkable coincidence, they decided to talk it over at their twenty-fifth reunion. 

 

LAST June at the reunion (on ZOOM, of course) and discussed the idea and decided that they were ready to take the plunge. 

 

ACCORDINGLY, each wrapped up his or her practice, job, elected or appointed office and on December 20, they announced the formation of their new firm:

         Mayor Days Bemerian Bright

    En-Mayal Yorkris Mussersbee White.

Keep the Soul in Solstice,

The PROPRIETOR.

Numb. 1016 Looking Ahead With Some Trumpadation

The beast is fierce. And he's wounded.

There is no telling what he might do.

There's reason to fear getting too near.

His lair is NOT a petting zoo.

Even unharmed he attacked the unarmed.

A trait he considers part of his charm.

“Always attack, stab front and back.

Quick, easy victory. If you've got the knack.”

And let me stress, he's known naught but success.

(Though bloating suggests he over-ingests.)

A hero complete, immune to defeat.

(He can dance without moving his feet.)

He knows he's been cheated. How else could he lose?

But with Bibi and Jared, he can not blame THE JEWS.

That is a pity. Still all loyal followers

attribute his sorrows to people like Soros.

And scheming, deceased, Hispanic dictators

abetted and aided by domestic traitors

who stole sure triumph from his large, manly hands.

Is there no succor? JUSTICE DEMANDS!

In less than a moon-month from this very day

will he, in peace — and for good — go away?

Or will he take arms against troubled seas

and conquer them all. (As he did disease.)

Will he resort to martial law?

Release the kraken, unleash dogs of war?

Do what he must, clearing the field?

One thing is certain: he'll never yield.

Would he accept as validation

presidency of the Confederate Nation?

Be Tsar of the Proud Boys in NRA-land?

Or will the sun set on Donald's Last Stand?

(To all appearances it's not here or there,

but Donald, like Custer, has long yellow hair.)

Numb. 1015 Our Place In The Universe

Is there a comet with Earth's name upon it?

Has a meteor drawn a bead on the planet?

Will a godsend from Mother N

demolish completely our world, goldurnit?

The Universe is a very big place,

The Earth is a tad less impressive.

A spot on a dot, a dust mote in space.

A sphere there could not be much less of.

We are, if you please, but holes in cheese.

An emptiness within the void.

If we were destroyed by an asteroid

no one would be miffed or annoyed.

Numb. 1014 The Coup-Coup Crock

I don't want to be PRESINET.

I do it just to be NICE.

Consider the money and heartache it costs me,

I've paid a helluva price.

I've had to actually sit with Mike Pence —

low-IQ, real boring guy —

who does not enjoy boy-to-boy talk

and balks when I mention great tits and thighs.

Then there's McConnell — the son of a bitch —

who acts on his own (buy enlarge) 

and refuses to do what I tell him to,

ignoring THE FACT that I am in charge.

And don't get me started on the crappy judges

somebody made me appoint.

Illegal ingrates who rule against me.

I hafta tell ya, they disappoint.

And Goddamned GOP governors …

supposed to be on my side?

Many among them, even some Southerners,

squawk about letting “the voters” decide.

Including the many who voted against me

in early and mail-it-in voting

on “voting” machines rigged by dead Venezuelans.

I know this is true. It's Rudy I'm quoting!

Even Bill Barr (who once was a star),

it turns out denies THE TRUTH

that I was cheated and swindled and robbed.

All because I can proffer no proof.

Proof and facts? I lowered taxes.

Made the economy boom,

saving the jobs of dumb white slobs,

saving the country from Democrat doom.

When China virus tried to expire us

I cancelled flights, I closed the borders,

I drank Clorox. I hydroxychloroquined.

AND I tweeted EXECUTIVE ORDERS.

As you have heard I'm a man of my word.

These assassins and all of their knives,

though they betray me, they can never slay me.

My word is my bond. Ask my bankers. (And wives.)

 

Numb. 1013 These Days

These days spelling, along with arithmetic,

has gone the way of the buggy whip.

Siri, Google, Alexa, Cortana

are gonna tell ya whatever you wanna.

Go ahead, ask 'em any old question

ask for directions, seek their suggestions,

say, “Tell me a story”, “Where in hell am I?”,

“Is that gal — or guy — a Cancer, a Gemini?”

They DO THE MATH. They check your spelling.

Should maybe we wonder where this is going?

They know where you are. They know where you've been.

They know what you do. They know what you spend.

They keep track of you. Your family. Your friends.

They follow you. WITH A ZOOM LENS!

I am not paranoid! But it is annoying.

Not knowing if I'm employed or employing.

Who is the servant? Which is the master?

Is this technology our final disaster?

Is it just me or do our cell phones

look very much like tiny tombstones?

Numb. 1012 What Matters

OF COURSE, Black Lives Matter.

The question is to whom. And how much.

White billionaires, with all of their cares,

have zero concern for others, as such.

People — all colors and stripes —

care for their own kind, 

who they see as sisters and brothers.

As to all others … well, never mind.

The repeated refrain of the majority:

“Superiority is our authority.”

Those who see “strangers” as a priority

are doomed to remain a tiny minority.

Numb. 1011 The Down-market Hollow Men

Planet Earth, she dead.

We're the reason why.

Can we undo the Anthropocene?

Our meandering war on the world.

If we could, would we? If we would, should we?

If we changed our ways, what would the good be?

Our role is that we exploit.

We “improve”. (Up to a point.)

Making stuff “better”. Moving things faster.

(Plastering over our every disaster.)

Layers on layers, we dragon slayers

lay waste to every environ.

Might not it be best for us to expire?

Or to cut back? To semi-retire?

Would the world gain a sense of tranquility,

a bit of stability, some renewability?

The human species: has it been a success?

Or have we made helluva mess?

Is it today  — was it always — too late?

Has our FATE (all CAPS) tracked us down?

Have we, still, some room to maneuver?

Have we cracked up? Is it all breaking down?

Are we THE WAY that the world ends

without bang, whimper, or shout?

Is our pollution the final solution?

Could Covid-19, in the end, wipe us out?

Is Mother Earth, fed up with our crap,

calling on Gabriel to come and play taps?

I'd say the answer is, at least, perhaps.

But, in the meantime, time for a nap.

Numb. 1010 Mitch's Barr Misfit

An indigenous legend said a great darkness would end,

when the Great Ancient Turtle's manhood descended.

Therefore, I think it fitting and fair

to congratulate Mitch on growing a pair.

To Donald he wrote a note in which the gist

is “Life is a bitch. Sorry dude, Mitch.”

AG Bill Barr also departed

leaving Donald bereft, broken-hearted.

A man he believed who saw law as he did

an obstacle to efficient quid pro quid,

who'd have stood at his side in the White House Rose Garden

as he gave his cronies executive pardons.

Numb. 1009 A Going Concern (a FOX Business News Commentary)

Do THE POOR have a right to live?

Why should we care if they starve?

Dickens was wrong. Scrooge got it right.

All of your POOR? Criminal larva.

Heedlessly breeding, breathing our air.

Taking up space. Why should we care

if they live or they die?

I can't imagine a bad reason why

their so-called lives are our concern.

They want to live? Then let them earn.

WORK FOR FOOD!

THEY don't need our money.

They'd only waste it.

I am not being funny.

They deserve penury.

Beware their knavery.

Here's an idea.

Reintroduce slavery.

Not, or course, based entirely on race.

There's White trailer trash all over the place

who, though they may vote the right way,

are not of our kind. IN ANY WAY. 

And do not tell me that but for God's grace

we, the elite, would be in their place.

Any damned God who could care to bestow 

concern on these creatures …? 

Clearly, a God we do not need to know.

If God created them, they're part of his oeuvre

so we imagine he wants them to starve.

It's a God-given duty — ours to fulfill —

to let them starve. It is God's will.

Numb. 1008 Parting Shot (first draft, without bone spurs)

If I can't be PRESINET, 

I'll hold my breath

until I turn even more orange.

You'll be sorry. 

For cheating me.

I will not eat my porridge.

I will tear out my hair.

I won. 

Fair and square.

You don't deserve me. 

I hate you. 

So there!

I hope you all catch Covid-19.

's what you deserve. 

Treating me mean.

Mean and nasty. 

Nasty and lousy.

You and dumb doctors. 

Birxie and Fauci.

Meanwhile, I, 

departing the scene,

will take all the Clorox. 

AND MY VACCINE!

I will eat burgers. 

Drink Cokes. 

Play golf.

I will laugh while you gasp and cough.

It's what you deserve. 

I'm telling you, folkses.

Doubting me. 

Beliving HOAXES.

Numb. 1007 Toward What End?

Might not it “BE BEST” to let Donald stay?

Melanie lets him … tho' that's day to day.

He seems … disinclined? … to go away.

Casting aside our justified fears,

we let him hang on for four more years?

Or do we do the Solomon thing?

(Which could be a bit of a laugh.)

Donald becomes Confederate King —

we cut the country in half?

Naturally, we'd reorder borders …

lay down a whole lot more walls.

Tho' this gives rise … two domestic disorders —

what you'd expect when an empire falls.

(A ruler who has no clue what he's doin',

is bound to lead to everyone's ruin.)

Rome, as they say, did not fall in a day.

Tho' split in two, it declined anyway.

Eventually, everything — in the end — does.

That's how it is. (And always was.)

In the interim, betwixt collapses,

you have to choose between perhapses.

Donald stays? 

Or Donald goes? 

Which disaster

has him depart —

FOREVER! — faster?

Numb. 1006 Whatever It Takes (the Business Mens' Political Creed)

We maintain everything's fine

if we can say the trains are on time.

If keeping on schedule involves kitten killing,

that is a sacrifice we will make willingly.

The economy requires reliable transport,

so kitty-cat lives are not important.

As with paws, so with the laws.

You do what you have to only because

anything that could diminish your profit

must be opposed, you have to stop it.

Best business practice always depends

on whatever means lead to your ends.

Numb. 1005 Points To Ponder

I find this an encouraging sign:

regardless how Republicans whine

“Covid restrictions are very unfair”,

they do not propose the answer is prayer.

Also of interest, the curious fact:

no one among these GOP hacks

says a sure cure is lower taxes.

Where GOP sees no more than veniality,

reality shows Donald's amoral totality.

As you watch this grand denouement,

ponder not, “What doth Donald want?”

Waste no concern on this cretinous simian

as he sinks into deservèd oblivion.

Numb. 1004 Vaccine Priority:The King's Gambit (or The Queens Bandit's Next Trick)

Who will be first to get the vaccine?

Naturally, those with the dough.

Then, perhaps, winning contestants

on a brand new TV reality show?

Hosted by (fanfare here, please)

the petulant president who caused this disease

to get a firm foothold, allowed it to spread,

until, as foretold, thousands lay dead,

who ignored the facts, who championed quacks,

who abandoned the combat to uninformed hacks,

who lied and denied while followers died,

gasping their last crying, “He's on our side.”

His ratings, of course, will go through the roof.

(If you're on TV, you don't need vote fraud proof.)

His fans will lap up whatever is said.

Instead of “You're fired!” he'll tell them, “YOU'RE DEAD!”

Numb. 1003 Now It Can Be Told (straight from a genius president brain)

There never was any virus.

Whole damn thing was a hoax.

Like the moon is made of green cheese

or allegations I binge Diet Cokes.

I cross my fingers whenever I “promise”,

when I take a vow or an oath.

I can screw whores and break all the laws.

On a good day, I often do both.

Three raw vaccines, I made them finer.

Perfected them to a T.

Thereby combating fake virus from China.

All LEGAL voters voted for me.

I remain the same: a sane stable genius,

not the least bit unhinged.

Everyone knows I won the election.

Just ask the lunatic fringe.

Rudy will show I was cheated

out of a victory.

General Mike Flynn says, “Declare Martial Law”.

Will I or won't I? Maybe. We'll see.

Numb. 1002 Vaccine And Waning

This vaccine business? Part of the plot —

this virus conspiracy hoax.

Concocted entirely by Soros and Gates

just to corrupt us American folks.

Shots in the arm will do us harm.

Maybe convert us all to Islam?

Destroy our sperm, control our thoughts.

Make manly men wear girly culottes.

No way. No siree. They can't do that to me.

I intend to stay as I am.

I already know all I need to know.

And guess what? It isn't from pot

like those communist socialist smoked

while making up this horrible hoax.

Numb. 1001 Some Ware, Oh, For The Rainbow, Unicorns

THE GUARDIAN

Cultured meat, produced in bioreactors without the slaughter of an animal, has been approved for sale by a regulatory authority for the first time. (More)

Let us pretend things are getting better.

Let us pretend we'll be fine.

Let us ignore all of our history.

Let us pretend water is wine.

Let us pretend we're vanquishing evil

or it's, at least, on the wane.

Let's just ignore how all of our progress

exacerbates our everyday pain.

Yes, let's rejoice how this new technique

will eliminate animal suffering,

how meat grown in vats, without killing anything,

will enable environmental recovery.

With lab-grown meat we won't be what we eat,

not chicks, not lambs, calves nor piglets.

None of our dishes will come from dead fishes.

This progression is surely prodigious.

For special treats we may even eat meat

from cells that come from ourselves

which, while nutritious and, doubtless, delicious,

will prove, down deep, we are still cannibals.

Numb. 1000 So Unfair (a short list of Trumplaints)

I am not green. I have no bulk.

I am not The Incredible Sulk!

I meant what I said and I said what I meant.

I won re-election. By two-hundred percent!

Rule of law vs. rule of men.

I'm talking now. You're talking then.

I was robbed. Election is fake.

I'm not a loser. It's a mistake.

The Founders were all rich white men.

I intend to return to the time when

moneyed white men made all the decisions.

And, for the poor, we had debtors prisons.

BLACKS and JEWS love me. LATINX, too.

So do all WOMEN. Except a few

low IQ losers, damned frigid bitches.

I would not ever get into their britches.

Of all the presidents, I am the best

who ever sat back of the Resolute desk.

As for the others, SAD bunch of wimps.

Not to get nasty, but … chumps and chimps?

Bores doing chores, pure plain vanillas.

Unlike yours truly, the King of best sellers.

The biggest, the fiercest, the bravest, the best.

Was any nation ever so blessed

as to be led by a genius like me

who banished Kaepernick for taking a knee,

who dealt with all issues profoundly, completely

and was re-elected totally, neatly?

(Except that everyone conspired to cheat me?)

But, I am no LOSER. THEY cannot defeat me.

I tweet loud and proud, my banner unfurled,

looking down on you all from the top of the world.

Click

Numb. 999 What's IS It All About, Alfie?

Just because something may have been said

by somebody famous who now is long dead

does not mean it was ever true.

This goes for Moses, Jesus, Mohammed,

plus Gautama Siddhartha (the Buddha), 

Marx, Mao, and Lenin. Sigmund Freud, too.

AND all other sages throughout the ages —

Philosophers! Scientists! “Gods”! —

who said what they said and did what they did.

They ALL got it wrong. I mean, what are the odds

of anyone getting anything right,

of correctly assessing the data,

from but a few scraps which — there is no perhaps —

prove insufficient sooner or later?

Every discovery obsolesces those past.

Wonders and blunders fade ever so fast.

We just, I suggest, take a guess — more than less —

the best fit for a few observations.

If we get lucky, everything's ducky,

we're less incorrect. With reservations.

So we survive. And reproduce.

Which we assume is proof of some truth.

But what, after all, is the whole point?

As Hamlet says, “Time's out of joint.”

Hamlet, of course, is NOT a real being.

Being a fiction, I think, is freeing.

Strutting and fretting for but an hour

would, I submit, be a whole lot less dour

than overachieving an overripe age.

Here's to lives lived solely on stage.

Click

Numb. 998 FOX Populi 101

Abandon fact. 

Disregard truth.

What you need to believe

is aloof from proof.

“You are the best. 

Our enemies lurk.

We've been betrayed. 

THEY think you're a jerk.

We're besieged by invaders.

Surrounded by traitors. 

Who wears a mask? 

You've heard of Darth Vader?

The forces of evil conspire against us.

They're everywhere. 

They are relentless.

“Consider your neighbor. 

Is he suspicious?

What are his hidden vices and wishes?

Are his facts the same as yours?

What goes on behind his locked doors?

Does he, in the dark, watch MSNBC,    

privately thinking, ‘Rachel's okay by me?’

Does he go to church? 

Is he on our side?

Is his grass too long? 

What has he to hide?

“Okay, perhaps, his kids seem polite.

But what are they up to when out of sight?

Probably stuff you cannot imagine.

And if you could you'd blush and turn ashen.

“Maybe you should give his trash a peek?

I mean, after all, he could be a freak …

a vegan or something equally weird.

In his wedding photo, did he have a beard?

“It would be best to alert the police.

 A discreet call to SWAT him … at the very least.

See how he reacts when they smash in his door,

shouting, ‘HANDS UP! DOWN ON THE FLOOR!’

If he survives, will he lawyer up

shouting ‘POLICE BRUTALITY’

in spite of the fact the cops had due cause 

and, in truth, there were no fatalities?

“Can we tolerate neighbors like that?

Angry, annoying, and vicious.

Would not it be better for all concerned

if he could, maybe, sleep with fishes?

He's a disgrace, a loser, a lout.

No one would mind if he got burned out.

He should not be permitted to live with good folk.

It may be wishful thinking, but I think I smell smoke.”

Numb. 997 Contingency #9

WHEN I get MY case to the RIGHT court,

the FINAL result will be what it ought.

MY Supremes should vote 6 to 3.

(Except John G. Roberts, who does not like me.)

Still, I will win by five to four,

and, thereby, show Joe Biden the door.

All that I need is a really good lawyer

instead of these bozos who will destroy me.

Should I fail to prevail, should SCOTUS bar me,

then I will need to call in MY Army.

I am, you remember, COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF …

so, in the END … bloody. (But brief.)

And if the Army should prove unwillin' …

NRA minions, MY well-armed civilians,

who I am certain will never fail me.

They will rebel when the Dems nail me.

MY people and I have a CONNECTION.

Who in hell cares who “won” some “election”.

THIS HAS TO END! (It's like an old wife.)

I condescend. I'll stay FOR LIFE!

Numb. 996 Sinking Ship?

Are Donnie's debts at last coming due?

Does his golf score exceed his IQ?

Such numbers are, of course, irrelevant

since he golfs solely with GOP elephants

who, although it may seem absurd,

tell him he still is king of the herd,

in permanent musth with a G-normous “trunk”

tweeting truth against Democrat bunk,

that he won reelection in a landslide,

that the FAKE NEWS totally lied,

that he is THE CHIEF they always will hail.

(Though, sad to say, they can't help him make bail.)

Numb. 995 Oh, The Humanity

What is wrong with the human race?

Or putting it simply, what isn't?

Wouldn't Earth be a far better place

had such a species never arisen?

I castigate no particular people.

no nation, no cultural group,

but rather the bothersome lot of humanity

in all its glory, complete nincompoops.

We strut, we fret, we think we're in charge.

A notion delusional, total gar-bage. 

We see success although we are falling,

following our cousin Neanderthals calling.

Numb. 994 The Grand Old Party's Brand New Plan (a six step RUDY-mentary “fix”)

In the House, we control more state delegations.

According to Rudy's astute calculations,

this very minute, this very hour,

here is how we keep Donald in power:

1. Sabotage Electoral College.

2. Several states send multiple slates; cancel each other, he contemplates.

3. Nobody gets 270 votes.

4. Selecting a president falls to the House

5. where every state gets one single vote.

6. Trump 2020! Tha's all she wrote.

It may not be nice and it may not be “fair”.

But in the long run, will anyone care?

It's just how it's always been:

you do what you hafta so that ya win.

You lie, you finagle, you spread the “baksheesh”.

You cheat, you break legs. Whatever. Capeesh?

Numb. 993 Donald In Neverland

The LAW is what I say it is.

What else could it possibly be?

Why would you think (for even one minute)

I'm not the font of legality?

Creatures like me (with bearing so regal),

are meant to determine whatever is legal.

I rule the stars and all the planets,

the seas, the land, and the sky.

Many folks say this is carved in granite:

there is no being greater than I.

Without subterfuge, my victory was yuge!

If I am removed,  VOILÀ! — le déluge!

There could be gods, but from what I see,

if they exist, they must answer to ME.

Numb. 992 An Upcoming “Tantrump”? (NOT a concession)

Who needs your stupid country?

Who needs your stupid launch codes?

Shaking hands with dirty foreigners?

Who needs to contend with Democrat toads?

Who needs to pretend he cares about people?

Whether they live or they die?

Who needs to live in your stupid old White House?

Who needs to deal with corrupt FBI?

Who needs to golf with pussies like Lindsay?

Who needs meet with bitches like Mitch?

Who needs the whole damn president thing?

Am I not young? And handsome? And rich?

Who needs to daily watch Fox & Friends?

(Isn't the girl getting old?)

Who needs to talk to fatheads like Fauci

who always refuse to do as they're  told?

Who needs to ever consider reality?

Who needs Junior and Eric?

Who, in the end, really needs Melanie?

(When I go to kiss her, she gets hysterical.)

Why would I wish my face on Mt. Rushmore?

(On bills, on stamps, or on coins?)

Why would I want my name on anything?

(In this I include the fruit of my loins.)

What I truly desire is just to retire,

drink warm, flat Coke, read by my fire.

Excellent books like The Art Of The Deal,

my convictions thrown out on Rudy's appeal.

Numb. 991 In Defense Of Donald

OUR president IS NOT a crybaby.

THAT is a damnable lie.

But if you still need to know why …

it's just he IS JUST NOT that sort of a guy.

Donald is stoic. Really heroic.

He DOES NOT know how to complain.

Infectious disease may make the weak sick,

but Donald disdains the idea of pain.

He is a superman, beyond comprehension,

a Universe unto himself,

a being from another dimension. And need I mention

his women and wealth?

Sing ye Hosannas to this Adonis,

this paragon of male virility,

always bestowing blessings upon us,

while demonstrating PERFECT tranquility.

A man for all ages about whom great sages

will write pages and pages of history.

(Forget lost wages and babies in cages.)

Of course he is loved. WHAT IS THE MYSTERY?

Mature. Brainy. Ever so clever.

(Could he be QAnon  … maybe?)

Not the least bit effete, never knowing defeat,

how could anyone claim he's a crybaby!

Numb. 990 Christian Tradition

“Christians” make excuses for Trump.

I find that not at all odd.

This is what, historically speaking,

believers do for their God,

who, they assume, knows more than they do,

although they do not understand

why they must suffer (as life has to),

they accept it as a part of THE PLAN.

Unasked, unanswered: the obvious question,

how any Being Supreme

who could be generous, kind, and benevolent,

could choose to be so incredibly mean?

Human suffering? Okay, yeah sure.

Moral lesson. Love God, endure.

“You'll get to heaven. There with me abide.”

(Meantime “free will” lets you to sin on the side.)

Should we deem this God a louse?

Let us consider the case of the mouse.

Or the sparrow. Each in God's eye.

For what purpose must these suffer and die?

Excluded from heaven for lack of a soul,

their pain and suffering … WHAT IS the goal?

There is no lesson, nothing is learned.

Must we conjecture God loves things to squirm?

That living in terror, forever in fear

is his idea of an ideal career?

That “Christians” love Trump is not at all odd.

The curious thing is why they love God.

Numb. 989 A Man Not Farther From A Child

The problem: Donald is more child than man —

and a mean one at that.

It may be “wrong” … despising a child? …

BUT exceptions are made for exceptional brats

who throw “tan-Trumps”, who mishandle “cats”,

who don “Ghina”-made red #MAGA hats,

who fill all our belfries with Covidy bats,

who shout out loud about coup d'etats

staged by nefarious Deep State Democrats.

Numb. 988 Trump 2024?

The country can NOT divorce me.

It says so in the pre-nup.

Which, along with the NDA,

has everything neatly stitched up.

I always take precautions.

Just in case I get caught

doing something a little illegal.

(And in case the judge can't be bought.)

No rule, regulation, or legislation

can ever control what I do.

And, then, in the end, I can send my friend Rudy — 

Rudy, my man, always ready to

go on TV, make fake accusations,

distracting attention from my fabrications. 

In two-oh-two-four, he'll be my VP —

another dumb-ass as scary than me.

Numb. 987 GOP Con′-'em-drum

Is today's GOP totally nuts?

How do they stomach their lack of guts?

Are they in thrall — Mc-CON′-nell and all — 

to this philander's infinite gaul?

Does not one of these sycophants

wear a pair of big boy pants?

Do they feel the situation's so fraught

(what with facts counting for nought)

and reckon they can later deny

they did what they did and call it a lie

to say they did the least thing untoward,

or that was then and we have to move forward?

Numb. 986 A Wee Donny Nurse Airy Crime

Me see tinkle Moscow whore.

Me still president. So far.

Me no pay when me buy.

Me no lose. Me no cry.

Votes for me in Sharpie ink'll

defeat Biden. (Rip Van Winkle.)

Although millions bid begone,

me determined, me hang on.

Me no care what stink'll be.

Me no care. Think ill o' me.

Me so smart, me hoodwink'll

keep me here 'til country sinkhole.

Numb. 985 Curtains Q?

Is QAnon slain? 

Have we Q-Tips for brains

been derailed by Biden's train?

What of THE PLAN?

The grand prediction?

Is it not reliable?

Something is wrong.

That's undeniable.

Has Dem Devil DEEP STATE

defeated Q?

If that is true

what shall we do?

Shall we rend our garments?

Shall we tear our hair?

Shall we pretend

we don't really care?

Why and wherefor

is there no there there?

Where are the arrests?

This hurts a lot.

OR is it all

part of the plot

where in the end

Donald trumps all?

Or might it be Q's curtain call

where the audience 

hisses and boos

and we acknowledge

Trump is a loser?

And we, willing dupes —

totally floored —

accept the reality

in its totality

Q is a fraud?

Is this like when Rome fell to the Christians?

Religion displaced by superstition?

Is this the beginning of Satan's reigning?

Or just some SAD losers as always complaining?

Numb. 984 Rudy's Last Rant (or Philadelphia, Here I Come!)

PHILADELPHIA (November 8)

Is it DENIAL, denying a LIE?

Of course NOT! It's telling the TRUTH.

In FACT, an evidence LACK 

is TOTAL and irrefutable PROOF

of a conspiracy, so GREAT and GRAND,

underhanded, and devilishly cleverly PLANNED,

that it left no CLUE it existed.

That's LOGICAL thinking. 

Not the LEAST twisted.

W. C. Fields allegedly said

Philadelphia's better than being dead.

That is a quote. Let it be noted,

if you're dead in Philly, 

we KNOW how YOU voted.

And NO, this is NO irrational rant.

BUTT yes, I DO have my hand in my pants.

Numb. 983 Legacy President

At last! A role for Trump that makes sense.

Total, complete irrelevance.

Let him work for Murdoch on FOX.

Let him be gone. On him THE POX.

Let him rave. Let him rant. Let him build walls.

Drown him in burgers, smothered with whores.

Freed now from news unmistakably FAKE,

let him sulk nakedly eating his cake.

If there is a God, I humbly implore:

don't let him come back in two-oh-two-four.

I pray we are done with Trumpian sleaze and

he won't return as did Grover Cleveland.

ELECTION SPECIAL EDITION: A Presidential Statement

What if I proclaim I'm still president?

Tweet an executive order:

I, hearby, overrule the election.

I, after all, built THE WALL on the border.

(Shudda done Canada too.

All of those beavers and wolveses and mooses.

And, too, the Carib-boo.  

Or is that Halloween hullabaloo —

Haitian-Canadians who do voodoo?)

Miller and Barr say I've got the power.

I don't need to get re-elected.

Adding my votes from 2016 —

when Biden got zero — I was selected

to serve — and cavort — for four more years

until Covid makes Dems disappear.

Rudy agrees, though FOX distorts.

Still and all, I own the courts.

I smell a plot. A commie tsunami.

I am afraid. I want my mommy,

who was good lookin' and daddy was rich.

I am so screwed. Son. Of. A. Bitch!

Numb. 982 Mission Statement

The BYSTANDER does not preach doom and gloom.

(These days that would be sadistic.)

The BYSTANDER watches, observes, and comments.

The BYSTANDER considers himself realistic.

Well, to the extent he can tell what is real.

Whether it is is the question.

The BYSTANDER neither pre- nor proscribes.

He describes. And gets indigestion.

Reality is in the beholder's eye

which is why people seldom agree

what's good, what's bad, what's fair-to-middling,

whether “reality” means shows on TV.

Progression, regression, recession, depression.

History's arc may be long,

but it does not bend in any direction.

Dr. King, in this instance, was wrong.

History has plodded from day to day 

threw out recorded time.

We examine, we analyze, we cogitate. 

And still we get it all mostly wrong.

It's something to do. It passes the time.

And on a good day it may even rhyme.

Numb. 981 A Patriot's Stream Of Unconsiousness

No son of Liberty would wear a mask.

Absolute freedom is all I ask.

I am free. You tread on me,

I guarantee a shooting spree.

Shoot first. Ask questions later.

My AR-15 is my “debater”.

I fight for my life, my honor, my wealth.

(Let sissy socialists fight for their health.)

If Covid gets me, I'll take it in stride.

I don't need lungs — I've got my pride!

I won't wear a mask, so save your damn breath.

“Give me Liberty. AND give me death.”

Numb. 980 It CAN Happen Here

The Fate of the Nation I fear now hinges

on the unraveling edges of lunatic fringes

with AK-47's and AR-15's

and the mental capacity of pubescent teens,

who worship the president and call you a traitor

for failing to hail this SAD perpetrator.

They everywhere see insidious plots

and plotters who should be summarily shot.

These red-blooded, true-blue, White Patriot men

all favor FOX, they won't watch CNN.

Bullies and blowhards, misfit musketeers

putting the lie to It Can't Happen Here.

Numb. 979 Insurrection Day, 2020

As frequently noted by Mao Zedong,

power flows from the barrels of guns.

With the number of guns in Conservative hands,

these “very fine people” will have some demands

about which votes get counted and which discarded

and who can get shot for a sign in their yard.

When the smoke clears — and there is smoke ahead —

it could be hard to tally the dead, whether from Covid

or blunt force trauma. And come what may, they'll blame Obama.

Numb. 978 Supremes Can't Hurry Roe?

Amy Coney whatzername? Maybe begins with a B?

Is she the last nail in the coffin of the country we'd never be?

With ThomasAlitoGorsuch&Kavanaugh performing just like NSYNC,

the addition of Amy to their samey-samey will likely send us over the brink.

Freed from the need of putting his thumb on the scale for right-leaning side,

John G. Roberts plays referee and can then pretend he's not Roger B. Taney.

Do we need a Supreme Court at all? Or for all that it costs us a Congress?

Has not our president made them all obsolete with excess wisdom and jaundice?

Why, in fact, do we need any law when we daily have steaming tweets

telling us everything we need to know down to the details of what he eats?

Should Supremes not o'erturn Roe, he'll decree it dead, tell them where to go.

Numb. 977 The Showman Empire (or 476 CE Redux)

Is what we are feeling what folks felt in Rome when the Empire fell?

Or is this the intermission where the Republic becomes holy hell?

Is this what Jefferson meant by “When in the Course of human events”?

Are we living a farcical sequel dismissing the notion of “created equal”?

A Hamiltonian (pre-musical) notion: governed by rich, well-born, and able —

a cabal of scoundrels led by a “genius” who, it appears, is somewhat unstable?

That separation of church and state has been reversed is beyond debate

when judicial appointments completely depend on Roe v Wade being upended.

One-“man”-one-vote, it must be noted, was not on the Founders' agenda,

still I believe it hard to conceive what they contemplated was Carthago delenda.

If we are both Carthage and Rome, where, oh where, can “ET, phone home”?

Given GOP muck and Dem incompetence, I would say we're totally [REDACTED]

unless adults (somehow) get elected and (also somehow) reforms are effected.

If GOP is not disarmed, I have no doubt they intend further harm.

Numb. 976 Bankrupt? (or TILT — Game Over?)

I say too late for Chapter Eleven:

reorganize, don't call it quits?

Our situate is Chapter 7:

turn off the lights, roll the obits.

This was our fate from the get-go,

an ironclad, gold plate guarantee.

Lie back, close your eyes, just let go.

Accept the fait accompli.

Some had some fun, but “in the long run,”

as Keynes said, “we are all dead.”

No point in groaning. Forego bemoaning.

Abandon all hope. Take to your bed.

If you are hoping we'll find ways of coping,

then I humbly suggest,

a book — maybe three? — about history.

SPOILER ALERT! This WILL cause distress.

Life, by design, is not intelligent.

Any creator is simply irrelevant

or, if he exists, entirely malevolent

and almost certainly out of his element.

Numb. 975 For Evil To Tr[i]ump[h]?

I do NOT deal in conspiracies.

But, say that I did …

I still would NOT say Jared is gay

or Donald's the father of Ivanka's kids.

The idea of Melania being a spy

I WOULD proclaim an outrageous lie.

(Though CIA et al., I hear, agree

her father's a colonel in KGB.)

And if you please, this Covid “disease” …

I'd NOT claim is part of a plot

to kill Social Security and Medicare

so GOP donors can all buy spare yachts.

I will NOT engage in scurrilous nonsense.

I will NOT stoop that low.

I would NEVER descend to the feces-filled gutter

where the GOP dwells. (As we well know.)

I could NEVER call Mitch a son of a bitch.

(I would NOT insult a dog.)

NOR would I suggest if Stormy kissed Donald,

he'd have turned in to Pepe the Frog.

An idea, to be clear, that I find shocking,

disgusting, revolting, obscene.

Because you can see, looking at Donald,

that he is orange, he is NOT green.

I will NOT state Donald is Vlad Putin's pawn,

NOR contemplate if he is Satan's spawn,

NOR will I highlight how he hates church bells.

I trust the facts will speak for themselves.

Numb. 974 What's Trump?

End of the line. Closing time.

Kill the lights. Close the door.

A total train wreck and I expect

worse if he gets four years more:

another country, another world

where progress is back to a past

that never existed but springs into being,

a century repealed, a story recast

where rights endowed are judged unjust —

you either live free or you fail,

where the out-of-touch rich get every day richer

and the poor get more time in jail,

where Ayn Rand and Jesus are one and the same —

an apex predator, on top of their game, 

where voting rolls are kept to a minimum

by declaring the country a condominium.

This is the best that can be expected,

unless by some fluke Biden's elected.

If that should occur, then Donald's armed hordes

will come after everyone brandishing swords,

taking no prisoners, clearing the field

until all opponents lay dead on their shields.

In any event, Donald will conquer.

Then we'll be blessed with the Empress Ivanka.

Numb. 973 A Thoughtful Republican's Inner Monologue (or Overturning Mark 8:36)

“We’re not going to control the pandemic.” — Mark Meadows, White House Chief Of Staff

We've no need to control this virus.

No reason to make a big fuss.

Donald survived it. Completely unscathed!

To hell with the rest of us.

Anyways, I hear this virus

only kills Democrats.

Never a godly Republican Christian.

We, after all, do not eat bats.

Some gaily say, we've bats in our belfry,

what with our peculiar beliefs

in QAnon and magical thinking,

and, dare I say, our Commander-and-Thief

who led us, sweet Jesus, to total control.

(Although you could say at the cost of our soul …)

On the whole we believe, to put it neatly,

all things are justified if you win completely.

Numb. 972 Truth Trumped

The truthiest facts is what Donald deals in.

Exacting fact is, in truth, his religion.

But sometimes a fact must be adjusted.

It could be busted. You cannot trust it.

And so to protect his Twitter minions,

Donald instead tweets his opinions,

what he thinks, what he feels … whatever he wishes,

praise for militias, his favorite dishes,

how FAKE NEWS treats him so vicious,

sneeringly claiming TrumpTruth is a lie

as if he were the kind of guy

who would cheat on a wife, welch on an agreement,

not pay a debt … as if he'd be vehement

defending racists, fascists, bigots, and traitors

while dragging us down some gold escalator.

Like he was some Queens Mafia Don

whose everyday shtick was The Art Of The Con.

Numb. 971 A Republican Covid Lament (a fireside musing from a country estate)

Will this election ever be over?

Will the campaign never end?

Bad enough we're stuck with Covid,

have nowhere to go, nowhere to spend.

Oh, I know, there are those sick and dying —

I expect poor Democrats.

If I said I cared I'd be lying.

Here by the fire, I've no time for that.

What I truly miss is the parties,

celebrating our wealth with champagne,

toasting our most cooperative Congress

and even Donald — though he is a pain.

NOT one of us, but the underclasses

fall for his trumpery, take his message to heart.

Thereby confirming they are thick as molasses

and, like their Donald, not over-smart.

I dearly yearn to return to normalcy,

to reset the century clocks

back to our great-grandparents' day

when wealthy White Protestants owned all the stocks

and simple workers, content with a pittance

for working twelve hours per day,

expired early (there being no pensions)

and never asked for a raise in their pay.

Their wives scrubbed our floors, their sons fought our wars,

their prettiest daughters we made into our whores 

in that best of all possible times.

A time of refinement when your enjoyment

meant doing whatever you wished all the time.

We cannot, I know, revive the past.

The best of times never do last.

Still, we hang on. We cope and we hope

that Donald prevails, though we know he's a dope.

Numb. 970 What If The Solution Is Not The Answer

Even IF — BIG IF — IF Donald loses,

BIGGER IF, IF he then leaves

that will not be the end of our problems,

it will not cure Covid disease.

It will not relieve the unease of supporters,

the majority become the minority:

good white Christian folk, 

thinking they get the joke

of his lampoonery, his clowning buffoonery:

celebrating Civil War traitors,

being pals with goon-like dictators,

flouting the law, his misbehavior,

packing the courts, playing at savior,

encouraging looney militia revolts

if he disagrees with election results.

Even IF on Election Day,

the people say, “Donald, just go away!”,

even IF Dems retake the Senate,

even IF Dems retain the House,

even IF Dems repack the Courts,

even IF Dems reverse DC rigor mortis,

even IF Donald peacefully leaves,

his millions of followers — armed to the teeth —

still will be here, giving us grief.

Things'll be better. Things'll be fine!

We may see a decreasing decline

in the world and in the nation …

what with the Covid depopulation.

We may see a dip in pollution.

We may forestall right wing revolution.

With Donald gone (shed crocodile tears)

the country could last several more years.

That's all we ask because as Keynes said,

“In the long run, we are all dead.”

Numb. 969 A Covided Possibility (both times as farce)

What if the president's “Covid” adventure 

is nothing more than an ruse,

a FALSE FLAG event staged to distract

from the fact of his failure to act?

What if “doctors” reporting his progress

are “crisis actors” pretending?

What if it's all just a charade

to provide his campaign a “happy ending”?

What if our thief of a farceur-in-chief

is flailing reaching for comic relief?

Strange how his “Covid” just now occurs

right when he needs it … as did his “bone spurs”.

Numb. 968 The GOP's Disparate Strategies (or The Grandiose Old Party's Plans)

If the WRONG peoples' votes get counted, then, in theory, we'd lose.

Forced to fall back on standby PLAN B, we'd need the Electoral College to chose

to keep Donald for four more years. (And him and us out of prison.)

It is a tragedy that in a democracy that citizens can make decisions.

If they vote their interests instead of ours,

then we, their betters, end up behind bars.

Our solution: lie and deceive. Make like the other side's worse.

Frighten the voters so they believe whatever you say, however perverse.

Strive to fulfill their inner need, say there be monsters under the bed.

(FOX NEWS will confound and confuse and, in general, mess with their head.)

If PLAN B should fail, if we can't make bail, (so sad a tale), will we go to jail?

PLAN C (our Catholic Conservative Court) will be our fail-safe final resort.

If our pet Catholics dare to say, “NOPE!”,

we'll hold a hearing and impeach the pope.

Numb. 967 In All Humility

We contain multitudes of single cells

who are not us, they are themselves.

This raises a question because by and large

it's hard to tell just who's in charge.

Can “free will” be undone by pill?

Is what we hold true garbage and swill?

A toxic concoction laid down over years

of confusion, frustration, and various fears?

How could that be? Are we not supreme?

Are we not the crown of creation?

Has the Universe some other purpose

than showering glory on our selves and nation?

Come, let us celebrate how we are better than all people alive.

Even our ancestors (who were better than theirs) from whom we derive

would not be our peers in the least degree

and, it is clear, you're less than me.

Numb. 966 Conscious Uncoupling (a parting shot)

If I were THE THING that created creation,

why, in my name, would I care

about you or your speck of dust planet

which (maybe) exists somewhere OUT THERE?

Do you really conceive I crave burnt offerings,

animal slaughterings, jihads, crusades?

That I require erecting of temples, masses who tremble?

That I give a shit which quarterback plays

for a team, at present, without a name

in an infamous city lacking all shame?

If you insist you deserve better,

I reply, “So do I.

You find yourself some other god

and I'll give some other monkey a try."

Numb. 965 Civilization (Humankind's exploit)

Because we are “civilized" we do not have to hunt and kill to eat meat.

Nor need we gather. Nor need we fish. Nor need we sew. Nor need we reap.

Farming and milling? Not on our agenda. For us no husbandry tasks.

We are ever so busy doing whatever, we cannot help you should you ever ask.

We can't build a shelter or even a bed. (Nor, for all that, bury our dead.)

We're unable to fashion clothing to wear. Nike attends of our feet.

If fact we're a lazy son-of-a- … bear, and — no offense — a trifle effete.

Somewhat akin to pampered house cats but more demanding considering that

we could not survive but for thousands of slobs doing the real — and dirtier — jobs.

Our music and poems, our art and our books — all of our “civilized" perks —

are possible only because we've devised ways of making lesser folk work

while we sit on our asses, draining our glasses, denigrating the lower classes

and keeping them down where they belong. It is our right, doing them wrong.

Far be it from me to harumph in disgust. If roles were reversed, they'd do it to us.

Numb. 964 Prof. Krugman's Solution (no bells or whistling past the graveyard )

What the economy needs is a shot in the arm,

maybe a dose of Viagra.

Unless something's done (for Washington) quick

we're over the falls at Niagara

where we'll be splintered to bits on the rocks,

drowning in worthless loans, bonds, and stocks,

undone by Trump's Bankrupt-onomics

unless we stashed cash in Marvel comics —

pristine first editions, hermetically sealed,

providing a viable surety shield

against the market's conniption fits.

(At least until the meteor hits.)

Numb. 963 We'll See (plus Columbus Day owed)

The classic example of total futility: rearranging Titanic deck chairs.

Will we replace this with “voting for Biden" against this buffoon with little upstairs

save delusions of grandeur and slander and pandering

prattle dog-whistle alarms calling his “forces" to battle and arms?

Are we living through a new revolution bent on reversing our last?

Senator Lee says we are not a democracy and never were in the past.

Trump triumphant, permanent president. The ultimate, consummate  — possessed? — White House resident?

Congress and Courts pose no impediment? The nation dissolves into the sediment?

INDIGENOUS PEOPLES DAY SPECIAL

The GOP favors wealth redistribution.
If it's distributed up.
A situation where others have money
is unacceptable. And likely corrupt.
God never intended that we be upended,
be held to account for the sins
our sainted ancestors may have committed
in enslaving Negroes and killing Injuns,
both of whose present descendants
should bow their heads and give thanks
for all those blankets infected with smallpox
and being redlined by all of our banks.

Are we naive to expect applause
after all we have done for this scum?
We gave them God and Santa Claus.
That's who we are, where we come from.
Okay, we may have stolen their country
and/or their freedom and lives,
driven the Reds to the brink of extinction
and with the Blacks toyed with their wives.
It is, however, clear that we meant well
in taking these primitive souls
into our hearts — and our economy —
to help us to reach our Godly goals.

Where would they be, truthfully,
if our ancestors had not “abused” theirs?
Can you imagine buck-naked savages
in control of the nation's affairs?

That's why, despite what you might think right, 

we sleep sound and tight every damned night.

Numb. 962 VP Reconsidered

Regardless of what my staff agrees to when I debate with a "chick",

she has to shut up so I can speak 25/8, three-sixty-six.

Whether it was my (un)worthy opponent (who clearly knew not her place)

or the fervently femme moderator refusing me enough time and space

for my ad infinitum praise of my masters, Donald (and also Jesus),

not to mention those plexiglass panels placed in my face in case someone sneezes,

in retrospect, I was not my best and it may not have been wise

to reprise the lies that Donald tells because his lies draw dung-loving flies.

Memo to self: for political health, avoid women and "debate" with yourself.

Numb. 961 Breathless For Thought (a meditation on a White House balcony)

Reality is really a virus.

To which, in fact, I'm immune.

I find reality and morals and truth,

not worth my time … inopportune.

Leaders, like gods, are creators.

We say what's real and what's not.

We're not concerned with figures and facts,

how the world works and whatnot.

That stuff is for jerks who insist on consistency

and think of things as connected,

who can not conceive that borax and Clorox

will disappear problems if they're injected.

Covid. Congress. Contracts. Laws. Wives. 

Anything that's in the way …

you have to downplay them. You have to lie.

You just have to wish them away.

You boast. You smirk. You deny. You distract.

You never look back. You attack and attack.

That, in totality, is my morality.

And, like I said, I'm immune to reality.

Numb. 960 The Picture Of Health

Donald must always be Donald.

Although we may all have to die,

we have to let Donald be Donald.

To say otherwise is to lie.

He is a law unto himself.

Taxes can never impact his wealth.

Despite what you see, he's the picture of health.

The thought of disease makes him so ill at ease

that in his vicinity you're forbidden to sneeze.

It is his will to never be ill,

so he finds doctors to act as his shill.

Except long ago, when one time it was

convenient for him to "contract" bone spurs.

Numb. 959 Sermonette

Go ahead. Name a CHRISTIAN with Covid. 

You can't. Want to know why?

God makes diseases for Liberals and foreigners.

God wants them all to die.

We know our Savior works in strange ways,

that, in his wisdom, he loves "mayonnaise"

that he hates -- equally -- Liberals and gays,

that Mantle was far better than Mays,

that, for Trump, Covid's a minor malaise,

that, though there may remain some delays,

that we'll be in heaven come THE holidays,

because we are living THE END OF DAYS.

So don't waste your time online on ebay.