As Is: Maybe The Sun Will Come Up Tomorrow…

And the judge looked down at me and said, For getting smart, boy, gonna give you more than a lifetime. Murder in my heart for the judge. I’ve got murder in my heart for the judge — From “Murder in My Heart For The Judge,” as written by Donald J. Stevenson and Jerry A. Miller Jr. and presently performed by America’s best known felon.

I just had to make a difficult choice. Should I write about the final episode of Star Trek: Discovery under the “Brainiac On Banjo” banner, or should I write about how America’s treacherous ex-president finally got his comeuppance after 77 years of blustering, conning, extortion, lying, cheating and stealing under my even more political “As Is” rant? Bet you figured that out already.

I can always comment on boldly going where artificial intelligence has gone before. I should celebrate the light at the end of the tunnel, the forthcoming possibility that soon I will never feel the need to comment on the greatest criminal (and skankiest biped) in American history.

Coincidentally, I learned about the verdict coming in from one of the biggest Star Trek fans I know, and I happen to know one hell of a lot of them. I was resting and playing with Adriane’s cat Artemis while listening to music — Artie prefers Warren Zevon — when I received a phone call from comics writer/editor/legend Mindy Newell. She informed me the jury was coming in with the verdicts. “WTF,” I replied, albeit non-initialisticly. “They’ve been deliberating for only about a dozen hours!” “Nonetheless…” Mindy wisely replied.

So I fired up my monitor, hooked myself up to several real news services, and sat back to enjoy the show. As everybody who’s watched juries on television knows, such brief deliberations rarely inure to the benefit of the accused. So my happy-adrenaline started pumping madly like one of Harold Hamm’s oil wells.

And I was not disappointed. Everybody had their scorecard up on the screen. Even Fanduel is unaccustomed to displaying a loss of 34 – 0. The jury of Donald Trump’s peers — but, clearly, these folks were deliberative, focused, and honest so they hardly were Emperor Trump’s “peers” — were goddamned clear in their message.

Of course, Trump’s fellow travelers in MAGA blather “Trump raised $54 million within 24 hours of the verdict!” Assuming that is true, and I never believe anything that traitorous convict ever says about anything, that’s a drop in the bucket compared to the mega-millions he lost on his own tech stock during that very same period. Financially speaking, that bastard is in a much bigger hole than he was a week ago. A veritable black hole.

Trump’s fellow travelers in MAGA also will blather “Yeah? Well, this is going to win him the election!” To be fair, his getting elected is a distinct possibility. His delusional supporters stood beside him while he was pumping a porn star, letting people die of Covid (hey, MAGA, did you shoot up that bleach and shove a ultra-violet light bulb up your ass like your lord and master told you to?), kidnapping children from their migrant parents, deporting hundreds of those same children away from their kinfolk and hiding them in the system, trying to steal the 2020 election in at least seven states, trying to overthrow his own government and accepting the potential murder of his own vice-president, politically weaponizing the postal service, turning the Supreme Court into a permanent Nazi bund meeting, depriving women of their rights, and lying so much he melted of the Guinness Book auditors’ brains.

What a piece of work is this “man.” If enough American voters continue to empower this crawling piece of shit, this pawn of Putin who lusts to be Kim Jong Un with a yellow toupee, then the United States of America as we have known it since the Constitution went into affect on March 4, 1789 ceases to exist.

By election day, I will officially be a mid-range septuagenarian, so I really don’t have all that much to lose. Besides, it is extremely likely that America, and most of the world, will avoid being taken down by global warming before the 2032 elections. Of course, our Felon-In-Chief has been paid to do this by his fossil-fuel buddies.

Come January 20th next, it will be either Trump or Biden as president. If it’s the former, you can kiss away freedom of religion, freedom of speech, health safety to those who are not billionaires, reproductive rights, same-sex marriage and relationships, any chance of saving the planet from apocalypse, and the entire concept of fairness and equal protection under the law. Trump’s hand-picked bigots on the Supreme Court will be doing their lock-step cha-cha-cha as the Christian Nationalists come marching in to smash the heathens.

For those who are of the generations that have come after mine, please remember the words of Keith Richards and Mick Jagger: if you can’t always get what you want, if you really try some times, you will get what you need.

Maybe.

Good luck.

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