Consider this: regardless of age, all Americans have one thing in common. Until today, we could close our political prognostications with, “..it’s not like we’re a banana republic.”
Oh darn. Now we’re a banana republic. Hold the presses – full stop.
Henceforth and forever more, “..it’s not like we’re a banana republic” is indelibly amended to read, “..it’s not like we’re a poor banana republic.” Oh darn, now it lacks a snappy iteration.
Then again, the eventual aim of those who orchestrated all this is for America to become a poor banana slave colony in service to the ruling elites.
Needless to say, this indictment will become the most prominent media event since the O.J. Simpson trial, and what will people see? A classic schoolyard tussle between an arrogant bully and a defiant underdog, and now it’s showtime.
Enjoy the Show
Q and the Anons keep telling us to “enjoy the show.” In turn, we keep asking, what’s to enjoy? After all, messaging on the right is odd. We keep hearing, sure, we got our butts kicked on this one, but now we’ve got them where we want them. And what about those continually-moving goalposts?
We are in an information war; hence, the saying that the pen is mightier than the sword now reads the pen is deadlier than the sword. Therefore, coming into awareness is more like getting slapped upside the head with a dead salmon, and then there you are, spitting scales and wondering what in the hell it was all that about.
For Trump, this will be his Howard Beale moment. In the classic film NETWORK (1976) William Holden gives a timeless performance as Howard Beale, a dignified network news anchorman who goes entirely off the narrative with revelations about how the news media is only in it for the money.
Watch it entirely to the end.
NETWORK, Sidney Lumet, 1976 – I’m Mad As Hell and I’m Not Gonna Take This Anymore!
The classic line “I’m Mad As Hell and I’m Not Gonna Take This Anymore!” is more relevant to the audience of today than it was in 1976.
The felony indictment is under seal until Trump is arraigned and includes 34 counts of falsifying business records.
In other words, a candidate running for office is to be charged with 34 paperwork crimes to derail his candidacy with a lengthy show trial.
When a fish stinks, it stinks from the head down, so what is to come?
The First Punch
Here I speak from personal experience because when I was growing up, I was always the biggest kid in my class at elementary school. I never liked to pick fights, but the bullies were always after me.
They would taunt and tease me but always stopped short of that first punch because they knew I would finish whatever they started. Consequently, they found a different way to have fun with me. Every time a new kid transferred in, they started working on him.
They did this to me time after time, and they always told the new kid to wait for school to be out and go straight to the bike racks. There they would always find me.
Of course, once everyone knows a fight is coming, they all want to see a good ass-whuppin’, so a crowd gathers. It was the new kid versus the gentle giant, and they looked on with bated breath, waiting for the new kid to throw the first punch.
Now the reason for this was that when I say that I was the biggest kid in the class, I’m talking by at least 20 pounds because, coming from solid peasant stock, I was made to plow.
It always began with taunts, teasing, and callouts. Standing among the crowd, I could always see the bullies looking on with great relish, and when the new guy showed a little hesitation, they pushed him on.
The new guys would always do it because they wanted to be accepted by guys who, mind you, made sure they were clueless about the consequences of that first punch.
As we danced about, I would tell the new kid I knew who was behind this and that he could stop it. That was when you could see a flurry of looks.
The new kid would turn to the bullies, and their expressions made it clear. Walk away now, pilgrim, and you will be pooh-pooh-kaka for the rest of your life. Old tricks are the best tricks. It always worked.
The moment the new kid threw the first punch, I did not do the expected, such as blocking or running away. Instead, I would grab hold of his arm, and using my natural physical strength and greater mass, I would whip him off his feet and begin spinning him around in a circle.
Being a gentle giant by nature, I didn’t want the new kid to get hurt all that much, so dropping them on the asphalt would’ve been inappropriate. However, if I built up a suitable amount of kinetic energy, I could easily throw them over the bike racks and into yonder grass field for a much softer landing.
To achieve this, I needed the right speed and angle to ensure he would reach the grass field, which typically took 5 to 6 spins. Once I felt I had the right energy and target solutions, I’d let go, and with that, everyone beheld the spectacle of a new kid screaming hysterically as he cartwheeled through the air.
Now that’s entertainment, and it was always a sellout event for the crowd, like a Fourth of July fireworks on steroids.
The problem was I could never see over the crowd to watch the new guys land. Come to think of it. I never saw them again.
For the crowd, it was great entertainment, but what I remember most is what I always saw on the new kid’s face as I swung him around.
It was always a mix of complete surprise and total terror, which proves that cartwheeling through the air is not something you want to learn on the job.
All the being said, the longer this political farce drags on, the better it will be for a master showman like Trump, and this schoolyard bully first punch will pay like a stuck slot machine for him.
Yippee, I can happily say “enjoy the show” for the first time because now I know a cartwheel extravaganza is coming to town.