Refreshing the Big Lie

The problem with the big lie, any big lie actually, is that truth, reality, they have a way of catching up. I have known this all my life, a life during which I was perceived to be a big liar by my actual parents. (I know you think I was making out on the living room sofa with my girlfriend on Christmas Eve but I want you to understand for a moment that what you saw, two horizontal people variously disrobed, was not what you thought it was. We were just resting. Seriously!)

Of course that was a lie, a lie I proudly admit at the moment, one uttered to calm the waters in the wake of the discovery. My parents are long gone now, as is that old girlfriend. Like a lot of lies, I thought I was just telling a covering story, which I have always done very well. Anyhow what was the problem? Within a year, I would be hooked up with my future wife, out of the house and the Christmas sofa not much more than a fond, distant memory.

No one was hurt by any of this.

But this time the big lie is different, based not on the fantasies and untoward behaviors of a testosterone fueled little man boy, but on the fantasies of a grown man who just can’t stand the harsh news that reality delivered after the presidential election. Donald Trump is still pushing the lie that the election was somehow stolen from him. He has pushed this so hard that it enflamed an army of wonks who attacked the U.S. capitol, killed a policeman, injured dozens more and injected the flavor of rebellion into what should have been a solemn event.

I suspect Trump will try to revive this whole ugly chapter when he addresses the assembled conservatives in Orlando next weekend. I’m hoping some investigative body someplace will have scraped enough evidence from the mountain of pooh this man has left in his wake to just walkup and arrest his fat backside and haul him away. I suspect he will be well received by a collection of people who remain afraid of him, of the damage he can do.

That’s going have to stop soon because he really can’t damage anyone and pretending he can is just keeping alive the ridiculous tone attached to the whole event. He’s not going to be president again. He’s not going to be a king-maker. He’s not even going to be treated with much honor soon enough. His shit pile is already sliding downhill in his direction and there is nothing he can do to escape it.

So we should stop worrying.

I am certain his children, not even vaguely attractive, and the cousins and what not will remain on the stage, because what else have they got to do? They were obviously parasites before the man went to the White House and nothing has happened to change that. They remain something best treated with antibiotics and an abundance of soap and water. Media should ignore them, but of course, media can’t ignore anything that might lead to more eyeballs.

But that’s a problem for another day.

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