At the back of the hill

Warning: May contain traces of soy, wheat, lecithin and tree nuts. That you are here
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Friday, May 13, 2016


It used to be that I could josh the lads in the lounge about their party, they would laugh, and everyone would have a great time. No more. The giddy lightheartedness they had when there were still over a dozen clowns that had erupted from the VW has given way to a sad, disheartened realization that with only one candidate left in play, it is now earnest.
The reality of Trump is smacking them in the face.
Quite fiercely, too.

In fact, both sides in The Great American Exercise In Vote Weaseling have veered towards the far fringes, and moderate sanity has long fled the arena of discourse.

What I mean by that sentence is "you are all nuts".
And have become dangerous extremists.
Rather nasty people.



When I returned to California from Europe, I realized that my vote did not mean much. The state would back the Democratic candidate as it has always done, and whether I supported a drag queen, a tentacled Martian, or a senile drooling and gibbering ape really made no difference: all of California's Electoral weight would go in one direction only.
The correct direction, as we all know.
But it was an inevitability.

So I scrawled "Kermit the Frog" on my ballot in crayon.

It is now several years later, and I still think Kermit the Frog would be a most excellent president. He has vast scads of experience, a sound head, and is both rational and diplomatic.

Altogether the very best possible candidate.

Even if there were other good ones.

Which there really aren't.

I'm taking a crayon to the polls in November.

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