I feel like we are all close enough by now that I can start this column out on a personal note.
I have been blessed to live a life in which I’ve had more than my share of great weeks. There was the week I closed on and married my wife – a woman so far out of my league that I still have to look up at her through a telescope, like Lord Nelson scanning the horizon from the deck of his flagship in the late 17th century.
There were the weeks in 1997 and 2002 when my daughters were born, and the week in 2013 when Cassie the Wonder Dog joined our family. Not to mention the fourth week of January 1986, when the greatest NFL team in history (Da Bears) won the Super Bowl.
But this week isn’t even over yet, and it’s already edged out the Bears, the Wonder Dog, and one of the daughters’ birth. (Never mind which one, because that would hurt her feelings.) (And yes, of course, I’m kidding!)
I have spent the last two days scanning the internet and flipping through channels, savoring the greatest election of my lifetime, and I haven’t even scratched the surface yet. I’m awash in dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins, along with just the right amount of bourbon.
I’m actually whistling to myself, like a dwarf in a Disney movie!
In fact, I’m having physiological reactions that are probably not healthy, if they last too long. My hilarious, over-performing brain has been competing for precious blood supply with other parts of my body, and my brain is not entirely winning, to the extent that I am experiencing intermittent difficulties in just maintaining consciousness.
Perhaps I’ve said too much.
By the way, after I mentioned several songs that were my soundtrack for the election night and early morning, CO nation member Bruce Townshend (for whom I would much more happily yell, “Brrrruuuuuce!” than I would for Springsteen these days) suggested that I provide a soundtrack for each column that I write.
While I’m not sure I can sustain that, I know the song that’s become an earworm over my last 36 hours. It’s the theme song from the greatest of all live-action puppet movies, Team America: World Police. It first popped into my head when I heard that Bibi Netanyahu quickly called Trump with congratulations, and I immediately thought about what the leaders of Iran, Hezbollah and Hamas must have thought when they found out that Trump is coming back.
Use Duckduckgo.com (not commie Google) to find that theme song, and prepare to meld your thoughts with mine. Language alert though: it’s a cheerfully and childishly vulgar song, and if “F” bombs are beyond the pale for you, please don’t listen!
I have been giddily watching leftist celebrities melting down since the election. Jimmy Kimmel’s tearful reaction was especially delicious, with perfect tones of whiny, emotional narcissism throughout. (He’s more of a woman than Melania Trump is, and that’s neither an insult to her nor a compliment to him!)
He ran through a list of people for whom election night “was a terrible night,” including women, hard-working immigrants, healthcare workers, scientists, free speech fans, poor people, the middle class, seniors, etc. Of course he didn’t mention whether the immigrants are here illegally or not, and he laughably suggested that free speech is more welcomed among his Soviet-style censoring friends than it will be under Trump and Elon.
And his complete lack of self-awareness is clear when he frets over the poor and middle class, both of whom voted for Trump in greater numbers than ever before.
He ends perfectly: It was a terrible night for those who voted against Trump (finally, an accurate one!), and, “It was also a bad night for everyone who voted for him. You just don’t realize it yet.”
Got that? You – meaning the majority of the country now – are so stupid that you don’t even realize what a terrible mistake you’ve made. Jimmy knows better, and you’ve really let him down.
Joy(less) Reid made a similarly idiotic point, saying that Kamala “ran a flawless campaign.” Her evidence? “Queen Latifah never endorses candidates, but she did this time.” Kamala lined up “all kinds of celebrity endorsements.”
Yes she did. And as we’ve all heard our whole lives, “As goes Queen Latifah, so goes the nation.”
Yet somehow, all of that celebrity preaching – Springsteen’s caterwauling, the Avengers’ lame repartee, Bill Maher’s nasal condescension – didn’t work with regular people.
Unexpectedly!
We’ve disappointed them all, from DeNiro, Streisand and Oprah to Michael Moore, Taylor Swift, and the harpies on the View, etc. and etc.
“How are we ever going to get through this?” you are not asking. Because just like me, you know that you will somehow manage to persevere in spite of the crushing disappointment we’ve inflicted on our leftist betters.
Sorry: BECAUSE of that disappointment, not “in spite of” it.
Probably my favorite backfiring leftist outreach came from actress Julia Roberts. She did the voice-over for a creepy ad recommending that clever, secretly Kamala-loving wives lie to their slow-witted Trump-supporting husbands, telling the hubbies that they’d voted for Trump when they’d actually voted for the Cackler.
Since everyone knows that the keys to a healthy marriage are deceiving your spouse and voting for vapid idiots, you’ll be shocked to learn that Roberts has gone through a long series of high-profile break-ups and one divorce, and is now married to a guy she messed around with when he was married to someone else.
Man, I hope that dude just voted for Trump while wearing a “White Dudes for Kamala” button!
The drama-queen leftist politicians have been as much fun to watch as the leftist celebrities. Illinois Governor Pritzker (D-irigible) had a tough-guy warning for Trump. “I’m a happy eater. So you come for my comically oversized turkey leg, you [have to] come through me!”
Which I found pretty confusing. I mean, I don’t know why—
Oh, hang on. I got that quote wrong. He actually said, “I’m a happy warrior,” and, “You come for my people, you come through me!”
Which sounds more logical, but less true. Does he think Trump is threatening the suffering people of Illinois, or that he’s ‘coming for them’?”
Though I’ll grant you one thing: if Trump wants to get at Illinois residents and to do so he has to “go through” Pritzker, he’s going to need some sort of an armored vehicle – preferably with a sturdy cow-catcher mounted on the front of it – to get through the Round Mound of Unsound (policy).
I am especially loving watching the top Dems and their camps pointing fingers and blaming each other. It’s often said that there’s no way to fix a problem until you’ve correctly diagnosed what caused it. If that’s true, the Dems better prepare for a lot more losing in the near future.
Because after watching more hours of MSNBC and CNN in the last two days than I have in the previous several years, I don’t see anybody learning any lessons over there!
Many of them are blaming Joe Biden, either for running for a second term at all, or for staying in there so late. And of course they’ve got a point, since he deteriorated frightfully by the middle of his term. But they’re all acting like the Democrat machine and party base were blameless in that situation.
It’s not like Biden descended from heaven, and they all had no choice in the matter! Everyone could plainly see his infirmity and his “cuckoo fried chicken” mental state in 2020.
But since Bernie scares any voters who aren’t far-left commies, and the rest of their bench looked like a bunch of dysfunctional rejects from a bottom-dwelling triple-AAA farm club, they anointed Joey Gaffes as the party nominee, then shoved him into the basement and later managed to drag him out and across the finish line that November.
Then, after his first two disastrous years – with the opened border; the wasteful geyser of trillions shoved out the door on far-left boondoggles; the bloody mess of the nightmarish Afghanistan pull-out; the screaming rant in front of Independence Hall set-dressed as the 1930s Reichstag; the raging inflation and the monumental civil rights violation of useless forced masking and vaxing – you idiots let him run again, without a primary!
Many are blaming Que Mala, and of course they have a point too: she is metaphysically terrible, as everybody saw when she got zero primary votes and dropped out early in 2019. When Joe picked her explicitly because she checked a few DEI boxes, they got what they deserved: a meritless DEI candidate.
Then when Joe’s decay accelerated before and during the midterms in 2022, they could have opened their party up to a traditional primary – as people who pretend to believe in “our sacred democracy” are supposed to do. But they didn’t do that.
In fact, they screwed the couple of people who tried to challenge his Posthumous Excellency. They changed rules so that any votes that went to another candidate in a primary would automatically go to Biden. As people who pretend to believe in “our sacred democracy” would NEVER do.
They boxed out Marianne “Cray-Cray Crystal Lady” Williamson, and sabotaged RFK Jr. like a bunch of cowardly Sirhan Sirhans. The way a party which pretends to believe in “our sacred democracy” would NEVER do.
Thus causing one more layer of sweet irony, when a spurned RFK Jr. joined forces with Trump, and possibly added enough disenfranchised Dem voters to Trump’s total that it may have made a difference in the final result!
For once, a Kennedy got to kill his would-be political assassins! (Too soon?)
So they used every dirty trick possible to prevent a democratic primary and crowned Joey Gaffes. And then he did an amazing Dana Carvey impression in the debate, and panic ensued.
But even THEN, the Dems could have scrambled to put on a “shotgun primary.” But no. They had a DEI hire right there, and one of the many reasons that you should never hire somebody for DEI reasons is that it’s nearly impossible to ever FIRE any such person.
So they ended up in a hilarious dilemma. They had stuck themselves with Biden, and when he shuffled off this mortal coil, they stuck themselves with Que Mala.
And now they’re mad at Biden for being so Biden-y, and Que Mala for being so Mala, and they’re pointing fingers at anyone other than themselves.
More please!
Martin Simpson 