The Apocalypse

Stall. Procrastinate. Stretch the unstretchable. The pace against Donald Trump gets slower and slower with each passing day. Did you watch the Supreme Court arguments today? What a colossal waste of time and money! It was a foregone conclusion that seemed as if the Supreme Court was playing the very cards Fate had dealt them. Still, the man who commands poor taste, bad judgment, and an incomprehensible demeanor lumbers on. In connecting the remaining links to his day of reckoning, it now looks as if the 2024 elections will be history before Trump is. What will we have gained to show for it all?

It looks like the worst of all outcomes is upon us—four more years of Trump. And a self-declared immunity from prosecution, with a pardoning record much longer than any potential day of reckoning. And it return, what will we get? A US pullout from all our major alliances; dropping the Paris Accords; a merging together of China, North Korea, and Russia into the Dasdardly Trio; plus an agglomeration of interests by Iran, Pakistan, Hamas, Hezbolah, and and a few other Middle East entities that nobody can name. Russia takes Ukraine, strengthens its position in the Black Sea; and begins to size up Poland. All of our interests get stalled by a network of treacherous AI software that slows our economy into a virtual standstill. A falling stock market; an economic depession, a weakened military; a boatload of pussyfoot sychophants at every doorstep; severe cuts in Social Security and Medicare; and another enormous handout of wealth to the ultra-wealthy. Trump will order a mass slaughter along our Southern border; he will sign a Peace Pledge with Russia, Inc. which will set off laughter so loud by Kremlin insiders that it awakens Vladimir Lenin and Josef Stalin from their petrified states of morbidity. Trump sells all our nuclear secrets to Russia, Inc.; he pockets $20 to $50 billion, while Putin refuses to let Xi Jinping and Kim Jung Un see them. The war in Asia lasts but three days from a lack of interest on the part of the heretofore combatants.

The sun is setting on this decaying mass of humanity, the stench reeks of false gods and remnants of a planet, whose inhabitants preferred to die in disgrace while remaining loyal to a buffoon, and to his false promise: “Make America Great Again.”

Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an

                Idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.