This summer, as part of my personal mental health regimen, I have been trying my level best to ignore as much of the election season madness as possible. My efforts have been largely unsuccessful. It is difficult to ignore the fact that the Republicans have nominated a Multi-Level Marketing, World Wrestling Federation, reality teevee guy for preznit! It’s like an episode of Creature Features from back in the ’70s, but it’s in color, and it’s real. A giant, orange asshole is in the process of consuming one of our two viable political parties.
I think it’s already too late, but some of the old school Republicans are fighting back, with a sternly worded letter. Many of the signatories of the letter were part of the gang of thugs from the dubya administration that instituted torture as part of our foreign policy, so it bothers me that I agree with anything they have to say, but I really believe America needs to listen to this:
“Indeed, we are convinced that he would be a dangerous president and would put at risk our country’s national security and well-being.”
I think it is too late for the Republican party because I don’t think there are enough good, decent human beings who happen to be conservative left in the party to wrest control back from the reality teevee guy’s legions of rabid, screaming fascists. A couple of decades of the right-wing noise machine stoking fear and hatred has distilled the party down to an angry, ignorant rump with genuinely no interest in policy or governance. They are ready — eager, even — to tear it all down and blame it on political correctness. What does that even mean, anyway?