Yeah. Okay. Weak title. (How can corruption have a climate?) The grammarians will get me, right out of the gate.

But, kids, we live in one.

I’m letting Donald Trump pontificate while I practice Bach. Now, there’s a dichotomy.

Are we getting the frantic atmosphere, anymore?

The Gee Oh Pee boys are in full on playground recess rumble. The crowd goes wild. The crowd. Where’s the beer? Oh, there. Fill me up, buddy. Ya got bikers, with an assault weapon collection sitting in their den, standing next to the fresh frosh from Liberty U. Ya got the new monied real estate acquisitionists (mark that) spread trading on their iPhones, next to the women who just came out of the kitchen (know it.) Yeah, yeah. Stereotyping? I don’t have to. It’s the Mega Church meets MAAD Magazine.

When I hear that Washington will be completely upheaved, figuratively burned to the ground, OF COURSE I DREAM. But, then, I w.a.k.e. u.p.  Because, the President doesn’t make a.l.l. the decisions. The President must collaborate. And, last time I checked, collaboration isn’t a bully’s strong suit.

But, actually, at this point, I even wonder if a single vote will ultimately count. That’s where I fall on this Friday afternoon. The technological revolution has taken over, and the drivers at the helm, bought and paid for to tweak the machines……I can’t decide if the Democrats will dictate, or the GOP, or Donald Trump, who could effectively buy anything(BUT WITH HIS OWN MONEY)……. I only know that the most cunning, the most stealthy, the most aggressive, and the most determined crook will likely pull the last lever.

God, bless America. Wherever you are, please remember us. We just woke up one morning to a glorious country, and grew up believing in it. Our parents did, too. They provided for our future, sure that this was the only place where we could hope to have one. How were we to know that the truth would be taken from us, and never given back?

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© Ruth Ann Scanzillo  2/26/16  All rights, you know the rest. Liars and thieves, the only thing you ever produce is your own excrement. Take; eat. You know you want it.

Thanks.

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