I have to admit that I’m having some trouble writing lately, even just kicking out the occasional blog post. It’s because I’m angry. Really angry. I sit down at the old post composer and all that comes out of the keyboard is a steady stream of acidic bile, swear words and inarticulate screaming.
I am so angry at and so embarrassed by this administration. I’m having trouble getting the words together to tell you about it. I’m horrified and appalled and mortified and ashamed of my country.
I can’t remember the last time I was this breathlessly, vividly angry about something I couldn’t do anything about.
Shortly Trump will be announcing his SCotUS pick, and he’s set it all up like some reality TV show, teasing his announcement on Twitter, having Sean Spicer basically run promos for it during the press briefing, and flying in the last two remaining nominees for what I can only assume will be a televised fight to death. I’m telling you right now that if this mind-bogglingly trailer-trashy set up interrupts my nerdy Tuesday night TV for even a second, I’m gonna throw a whole soccer riot all by myself.
Do me a favor. It’s a sort of spiteful little favor, but that’s the kind of mood I’m in. Skip Trump’s reality show SCotUS announcement. I know that vain bugger’s dying for the attention, so don’t give it to him.
Don’t stream it, don’t watch it on CNN, don’t tweet about it. You’ll hear about it in the news tomorrow, and it’s going to be months before whatever sad sack SOB Trump dug up who would tolerate this affront to basic dignity gets confirmed, anyway, so just skip it. Go watch The Flash or Legends of Tomorrow or Agents of SHIELD instead.
Unless they get preempted, in which case, you’re invited to join me for a riot.
Featured Image: A very angry little kitty, by Jasper Nance. (Source & Licensing.)