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let the foolery commence (continue, really)

April 1, 2023

A week ago, I thought Spring had returned to the farm. Foolish me. March marched out yesterday as a blustery bastard of a bully, with gusting winds and spitting rain and hail right up to midnight. I consoled myself by watching the women’s NCAA Final Four. LSU won the first game. That helped.

April started with a very promising rain but was just fooling, of course. It’s sunny mid-afternoon here, yet too late to continue any of the myriad outdoor projects I have going. The men’s Final Four games start soon anyway. Have started, I should say. I record most every sporting event so I can zap through the commercials and analysis. I can actually watch a football game in less than an hour.

I zap through the news, as well., coming out of hyperspace for new news, polls and most pundits. One pundit, impeachment expert Guy Smith, just speculated that we’re watching the disintegration of the GOP “in real time”. He pointed out that no matter how loud and passionate MAGA Republicans are, they’re just 15% of the electorate. Trump boasts that he’s already raised $4 million since the news of his imminent indictment. He’ll need much more than that just for legal fees, unless he’s planning to stiff his lawyers.

A Quinnipiac poll done since the big news broke shows that 75% of Repubs don’t believe the indictment should disqualify Aging Orange for running again, but 88% of Democrats and 55% of Independents believe it does. And the GOP is the smallest of those three groups.

So, as the budget crisis quietly creeps closer, the House Repubs fret about that Apex of All Evil, Hunter Biden. Marjorie Taylor Green, bless her heart, recently visited a jail housing many of the J6 convicts, apparently hoping to find them in squalor worse than The Black Hole of Calcutta. Whatever she saw, she has yet to comment. That’s so not-Marge. Damn those prisoner rights.

I firmly believe in a two-party system. It genuinely grieves me to see the GOP look like, as Scottish comedian Billy Connolly so succinctly put it, “one of those little Buddy Holly planes that hits the ground like a fookin’ dart.”



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