I’m not the sort of guy who rubbernecks at car accidents. Disaster should appall us, not enthrall us. The advent of Trump Regime Mach-Two is like a 20 car pile-up on the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway. We may want to look away, but we cannot. It’s enough to drive a sane person crazy. I have a different response: Vexatious venting about irksome things.
Let’s get irked:
I’m irked that the legacy media is downplaying the menace of the Insult Comedian’s gratuitous trade war with Canada and Mexico. It’s a shakedown aimed at forcing our closest neighbors to bend the knee.
This is the headline of a NY news analysis of the extortion plot by the dread Peter Baker: Trump Favors Blunt Force In Dealing With Foreign Allies and Enemies Alike.
The malakatude, it burns.
I’m not sure how this will play out, but we’re headed for a showdown:
I’m the irked that the current president is the biggest racist asshole to sit in the White House since Andrew Johnson. There have been others who were segregationists and worse but none of them were open racists and white supremacists. Woodrow Wilson was a piker next to Donald Trump. He also had a brain instead of a hole in the head.
I’m irked that we know so little about history that nobody has pointed out that the acronym for Elon Musk’s so-called Department Of Government Efficiency is what they called the dictator of Venice back when it was a city-state. One could even call this the DOGE dodge.
Just lay back and think of Venice as they screw the country:
Let’s turn our attention to irksome things closer to home; my home, that is.
I’m irked that the District Attorney of East Baton Rouge had indicted a New York doctor for prescribing Mifepristone to a Red Stick chick via mail. They also indicted the mother of the abortion pill recipient for allegedly coercing her daughter into taking it.
It’s more authoritarian bullshit from anti-choice forces in the Gret Stet of Louisiana who are initiating a new dark age for women and doctors:
I’m irked that the elaborate Super Bowl security procedures for the French Quarter ban coolers, but not guns. I am not making this up. Here’s a Picayune headline: In Bourbon Street security zone for Super Bowl, coolers are out but guns are OK.
Oy, just oy.
It’s another example of how far gone the country is on the subject of guns.
Finally, I’m irked that I’m taking the news personally rather than with my customary icy disdain. It’s made posting harder but I’m still in the game, plugging away and holding on for dear life.
The last word goes to Steve Winwood:
