The photo is just so-so, since the paper was behind a plastic screen, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this story heralds the beginning of the end to the Trump campaign or if it means he’s pulling money from Florida advertising to be used in another manner. At any rate I’m calling this one, “Don’t Let the Door Hit You on Your Way Out.”
I reblogged a post yesterday called “News Flash for Mr. Trump.” In the post, author Jan Wilberg of redswrap.com, contends that we shouldn’t be surprised by the recording of Donald Trump bragging about having committed sexual assault. Jan is absolutely right. The man has shown us who he is time and again and his misogyny should by now be an ugly given.
That post on my blog was viewed by far more people than anything I’d written that day. Overwhelmingly the comments were in agreement with Ms. Wilberg. Except for this one:
I’d ask you to read that last sentence until it sinks in. This man totally embodies what Hillary Clinton meant when she called half of Trump’s supporters “deplorable.”
Now I didn’t approve his comment, and perhaps I’m giving him way too much attention by sharing his comment here, but I think it’s important that we acknowledge the sheer hatefulness and evil that is out there. And guess what? It’s all in the Trump camp.
A vote for a third party candidate is a vote for Trump. Get out there and vote blue. Don’t let the deplorables win.
Peace, people.
I won’t be watching the presidential debate tonight. Living in the eastern time zone means that the event won’t begin until 9 p.m. I’ll be in bed and hopefully engrossed in book seven of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series by then.
It’s not that I don’t care about the debate. Quite the opposite. I care so much that I fear I’ll throw up when Trump resorts to his de rigueur raft of lies. I care so much that I know I’d never be able to fall asleep once the debate ends. So I’ve set up a recording and I’ll watch sometime tomorrow afternoon.
In the meantime I’ll be praying that Hillary shows what she’s made of: Her grit and determination. Her capacity for compassion and concern for the underserved. Her immense intelligence and extraordinary political savviness.
I’ll also pray that those who are undecided will recognize that there is really only one legitimate choice in this election. Hillary Rodham Clinton. I’m with her.
The end of everything might’ve begun the day somebody told Donald Trump that he
Could be anything, even President, if he told enough lies and threw the right people
Under the right bus at the right time. He cowed his Republican opponents, one by bitter one.
Now, a tombstone engraved “R.I.P., G.O.P.” rises plaintively from a grave between
Reason and insanity; a silent symbol of the demise of the once proud party of Lincoln.
A million voices multiplied
Who will Trump have crucified?
Vote third party, risk it all
Watch our country in free fall.
Soothe a conscience so betrayed
Bernie laid it out, dismayed
Until we all perceive the threat
And rally round our candidate.
We suffer from our hubris grand
And so will fall in hate’s last stand.
Every day brings a new look into this man’s character, or lack thereof. Today Trump ejected a crying baby from a venue. A baby, for heaven’s sake! Aren’t politicians supposed to love babies?
In the spirit of a David Letterman Top Ten routine, let’s break down the top ten actual reasons Trump might have had a baby shown to the exit:
10. The baby’s hands were larger than Trump’s.
9. Putin called and demanded the baby be ejected immediately.
8. Trump was afraid the baby was demanding the release of his tax returns.
7. Baby’s cries of “Waaa! Waaa!” easily mistaken for “Wall! Wall!” and Trump still has no idea how to get one built.
6. Trump had a huuuuge headache and the baby was getting on his last nerve.
5. The baby’s basic understanding of the U.S. Constitution greatly exceeded Trump’s.
4. Because women are having babies and some of them grow up to be murderers, some grow up to be rapists, and some, he assumes grow up to be good people. The odds weren’t in this baby’s favor.
3. The baby appeared to be rigged in favor of the Democrats.
2. Firing the baby wasn’t an option.
And the number one reason Trump had this baby booted from the event:
Baby might have ties to the Muslim Brotherhood.
crystal ball toting gypsies
cry cataclysm and none heed
as cassandra nods in ardent
sympathy and odd redemption.
call it age or wisdom
chalk it up to experience,
but I know what I know and
that I cannot know it all.
i threw away my soothsayer’s
tools, seeing clearly that
in your pride you’ll gladly
wallow in the dread luxury
throw us all under a red
double decker for the sake
of trampled feelings; an
injury we can not indulge
grow up, grow a pair, this
election is ours to lose
with ramifications beyond
our meager lifespans.
Truth, Justice, and the American way.
It took me a second to understand this picture–why would anyone desecrate the headstone on Susan B. Anthony’s grave? But then I realized the stickers said, “I voted today” and I smiled.
Please use your right to vote. Become informed, and speak your mind come Election Day. Don’t ignore this gift that women like Susan B. Anthony fought to give us.
And if you haven’t seen the film, Suffragette, detailing the hardships British women endured in order to be allowed to vote, I highly recommend it.
Twenty years spent digging ditches, climbing through
stacks of detritus, too tall to fathom, too many fathoms to ponder.
Some streaks of weakened light leaked past guarded columns of
life’s waste and want. “I still cannot see the end,” came the distant scream.
“Just keep digging,” called a calm response. “You’ll hit paydirt one day.”
The foreman urged patience and tenacity.
Those digging broke nails and fingers and backs.
“Come election day who do you reckon you’ll be voting for?” Digger 1 asked Digger 2.
Digger 2 did not pause in her labors. “I like that Trump guy.” she said.
“He’s gonna build a big wall to keep them illegals from stealing our jobs.”
“Yep. That’s how I see it,” spat Digger 1.
“Quit your jabbering,” smiled the foreman. “Keep digging.”
Praying for Eyebrowz 