Wayne Michael Reich

Writing ∙ Photography ∙ Art

Hatetriot Lames Pt.1 (Cowboy Flunkies)

“Patriotism means to stand by the country. It does not mean to stand by the president or any other public official, save exactly to the degree in which he himself stands by the country. It is patriotic to support him insofar as he efficiently serves the country. It is unpatriotic not to oppose him to the exact extent that by inefficiency or otherwise he fails in his duty to stand by the country. In either event, it is unpatriotic not to tell the truth, whether about the president or anyone else.” -Theodore Roosevelt

Hello Blogiteers!

What in the H-E- double hockey sticks is wrong with at least one-third of my fellow Americans these days? Did a group of normally anal-probing aliens decide out of career boredom to shake it up and just start randomly replacing their abductees brains with a cabbage to see what would happen? Because if this is not the case, then the Earth is as well and truly f**ked as Jenna Jameson was at her first film audition.

I’ve said it more in the last three years than I have ever said it at any other point in my life, but I cannot, by any stretch of the imagination, ever recall a previous time when I felt I was trapped inside an episode of the Twilight Zone as much as I do now. And not a cool “time enough at last” episode either, more like one of the ones they rarely rebroadcast because they were just so bad.

By way of example, “The Bard” (Season 4, Ep: 18) versus “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street” (Season 1, Ep: 22) and trust me, there’s quite the range there, if you really want to take the time to binge-watch during this, the Age of the Newest Apocalypse of Inconvenience.

Racism, intolerance, barbarism, selfishness, and a range of other personally borne sins were explored, judged, and in more than a few memorable cases, atoned for, all in one compact half-hour story, until Season Four, when the runtime of the episodes were increased to an hour. Noted as one of the best television shows ever produced, it ran from 1959 to 1064, and set the standard for tackling sensitive topics of the day, by cleverly cloaking its humanist point of view concerning said issues under the guise of purely escapist science fiction- something that later shows like Star Trek would not only independently emulate, but would occasionally improve upon, even if this slant could present as somewhat ham-fisted at times.

Considered highly innovative for its creative underpinning at the time, I honestly feel that if the show’s creator Rod Serling were still alive and tasked with originating the concept today, he’d be hard-pressed at best, to compete with what exists as our current ill-fated reality. A man who wrote what he did as both cautionary and celebratory tales in an effort to steer the course of the massed audience, he strived to highlight the depths to which Humanity could descend, and to inspire what heights it could hopefully rise, given the correct mixture of personal enlightenment, and inward musing.

Such contemplative thoughts to the betterment of mankind as of late, seem to have gleefully taken a regressive step backward, since the electing to the office of the Presidency, a man so morally corrupt, that even Satan himself is justly flummoxed as to what eternally punitive castigations should be applied in Hell to this reprobate once he hopefully if not indignantly, shuffles off this mighty coil and arrives there, red hat in hand.

I sort of feel bad for the ol’ Morningstar- after all, he’s wholly surrounded by lakes of fire, there’s random chains of ice laying around everywhere, there’s no central air conditioning, the Damned never stop screaming, and every single one of his computers are still running Windows XP and PhotoshopCS, which explains why all those memes posted by Trumptards always look so amateurish.

Throw in that he’s already putting up with listening to the bullshit justifications of Stalin, Hitler, and the co-author of the odiously insidious Disney earworm “Its A Small World After All” a truly diabolical fiend by the name of Robert B. Sherman,  but now he’ll have to deal with this gibbering jackass as well? It hardly seems fair, doesn’t it? Sure, he did try to overthrow Heaven, but if one looks at it objectively, it really all just boils down to an overreaction to a difference of opinion regarding management styles.

If one were so inclined to willingly bash in their own brains, their directed effort aided by the use of a brick wrapped within the transcript of one of Trump’s word-salad speeches, a critical assessment of the hostility generated by the inclusion of statistical data, known to us liberals as “facts”, during political debates with the strain of his virulently ill-informed base, could easily consume scores of pages in reputable psychological journals, if not years of the therapists’ free time, discussing the same.

As a set measure for testing both the confines of our patience, and discovering the boundaries of their ignorance, the latter is seemingly, thus far, limitless. And if I were to debate this with the populace at large, all I would have to do is open the Internet, blindly land in any open comment section, sit back, and effortlessly win the wagers I had placed regarding my theorem, as the ill-tempered rabble does all the heavy evidential lifting of as to why the Web should require the passage of a standardized IQ test before the great unread mass should be permitted to use it.

No matter what sites you may favor, regardless of whether it’s theme is political or not, you’re bound to run across (or metaphorically step in) a verbal dung heap left purposefully in your path by the kind of people you wouldn’t want to be stuck in an elevator with, much less attempt to debate. Mark Twain said it best when he noted; “Never argue with an idiot. They will drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.”

There was once a time when I was on a page that dealt with all things pie related, because not only do I love pastries, I also enjoy baking them, and no- I don’t care who knows it. As I was looking for a vegetable oil *substitute, a pro-Trump troll slithered in, and hijacked the previously civil thread with an unhinged harangue about abortion, which when viewed in retrospect as a Type 1 diabetic, just goes to prove the theory that an overconsumption of refined sugar does affect people in a variety of ways, and always for the better.

No matter what non-political topic is being conferred, the odds are excellent that eventually, a cult of personality disciple will slither in, regurgitate their vacuous vomit unbidden, and claim the victory as they flee from the consequences they’ve truly garnered, hiding within the shadows the cloak of internet anonymity without any form of introspective thought as to the numerous underlying reasons why their only purpose in life is to serve as a cautionary tale relayed via the ethereal glow of an I-Phone screen. *[In a bind, applesauce makes a good replacement- just a tip from me to you.]

For intellectually void cravens like these, this is a tale as old as time- the only difference being they’ve altered their venomous distribution networks from analog to digital, becoming more brazen in doing so, as the Interweb increased its impact on our cultural and political landscape.

Factor in the aforementioned lack of consequences, fueled by an authority figure so morally defective he not only engages in the same reprehensible activity, but issues routine calls to arms regarding such, and it’s easy to ascertain why this idiotic strain of viral purulence is as difficult to cauterize out of our collective soul, as it is to convince Nickelback that nobody anywhere on Earth had ever wanted them to record nine (!) albums, much less their first one.

And yes, I did have to Google that unforeseen discography, mainly because I’ve never felt the need to know anything about them, since it’s almost impossible for me to accept the truth that the same country that gave us The Guess Who, BTO, Joni Mitchell, Cowboy Junkies, April Wine, Gordon Lightfoot, The Band, K.D. Lang, Rufus Wainwright, Triumph, Rush, and of course, the inimitable Leonard Cohen, also produced them as well. After all, when a band sucks so strongly that it can easily remove chrome off a trailer hitch without seemingly having to take a breath, the end result is that it’s going to make Justin Bieber present as Neil F**king Young, hands down.

Sadly, the fecal-brained followers of our mango-tinted president persist in putting out their own virulent form of discord that much like the so-called music of Nickelback, nobody outside of their own ilk really wants to experience firsthand. Sure, I like conspiracy theories just as much as the next American, especially if it involves the possibility of Bigfoot dating the Loch Ness Monster, but even I have some hard-set limits as to what lunacy I’ll entertain in regards to my own amusement.

However, these slack-jaws will accept any offal that falls out of Trump’s mouth not only as untainted Gospel, but as sacred Scripture that demands a wide swath of dissemination, no matter how truly insane those concepts may be. By way of example, when I lived in Phoenix, a place where incoherent Conservatism breeds with a racist miasma resulting in the most half-baked of political ideologies ever known to a civilization, I’d run into these idiotic end-results of a shot-glass depth gene pool almost daily, if not hourly.

However, after my GF and I moved to our small town with a population of 10k in New Mexico, that number dropped to zero, almost overnight. It was almost six months before I even saw a Trump decal on a local car, and almost seven before I met a Gorgon disguised as a human supporter face-to-face in the most ironic of places, that being my local post office.

To say the interaction could be charitably described as detached logic meeting an as yet unnamed mental illness, is underselling the actuality of what occurred by miles, if not multiple galaxies.

Like most future stories that are to be eventually told over mixed drinks and a cheese platter, it started off fairly innocuous at first, if not pleasant overall. The small town I live just outside of these days is a laid-back, neighborly, almost Norman Rockwell kind of place, and after living for several decades in a rapidly gentrified city that wants so badly to look like Portland, but as of late, tends to emulate the intellectually dimmest part of Texas.

This relatively newest of locales is truly a refreshing sea change when it comes to the inner machination of setting parameters for how I function within my current lifestyle. But as with all things peaceful and in balance, eventually a red-hatted murder hornet is going to buy some cheap airline tickets, arrive in your quiet little town, and immediately set up shop within your rock garden of Zen, spoiling for a fight.

The truly pathetic part of this invasion of your serenity is the fact that the hornet doesn’t really care about winning the fight, or even surviving it, they just want to make you somehow pay for their fabricated transgressions based solely on a sense of paranoiac obliviousness and externalized delusions.

I, like many of you to be sure, have all heard the ceaseless braggadocio from modern-day conservatives about “owning the Libtards”, but their pride of such that they post obsessively all over Facebook doesn’t quite match up with what we all know is the truth, when one takes even the merest of looks at it.

For all of the incendiary bluster generated by these obsequious blowhards, the only thing that ever results from their infantile posturing is the gracious exhibition of truly unintentional comedy, much to the amusement of those of us who’s intellect still works the way Odin intended it to.

When they find themselves as they often do, “offended” by fellow Americans who dare embrace inclusion, multiculturalism, or ideological tolerance, they gather as an amoebic mass, infecting the various media platforms of YouTube, Instagram, 4Chan, etc., and do what comes naturally to their ignorant ilk- they embarrass themselves, as well as their families, along with whatever primordial cesspool they slithered out of in the first place.

If I had to give these mendacious morons praise for anything, it’s the fact that they serve so humbly as shining examples of what unintended comedy can achieve if one simply and willingly, disconnects their intellect from the scourge of obvious reality. To back up this assertion, let me relay the first of two tales in regards to interacting with persons whose family tree appears to have no branches.

To begin, I’ll dress the stage. The time; a little over a year and a half ago. The place: a normally placid community post office, located just outside the quietly serene town of Silver City, New Mexico. The cast: yours truly, a craggily good-looking if not modestly talented Creative, set against a bitter little troglodyte who when she unfolded her bat-wings and woke up that morning, decided to show all of us what a failure of the American public educational system looks like.

Now that the scene is set, let us get on with the show.

So, there I was in my local post office, a ruggedly good-looking paragon of human kindness, buying some stamps because I’m one of those people that believes in both personal letters along with making your creditors have to go to the bank, sharing a joke with my adorable postmistress, a lovely Latino woman who goes by the name of Julia.

 Now, I wish I remembered what the joke was, but if I was telling it, odds are it was a killer. Daddy knows how to work a room, and all that. As the pleasantries proceeded, we fell into our usual socially acceptable pre-established rut, which nine out of ten times, will involve some form of political discussion. At that time, the hot topic of the day was the confirmation hearing for Brett Kavanaugh, who is now a Supreme Court Justice for no other reason than the fact that he can chug an entire keg of Heineken as he’s simultaneously fellating Donald Trump.

Not gonna lie here, that IS a definitive skillset, no doubt about it- especially when you factor in that not only would he have to maintain adequate rhythmic suction on gear that’s been described as being almost inverted, but he’d also have to make sure he didn’t drop the keg while doing so. So what I’m saying here is despite my political leanings and the personally held belief that the guy is an outright scumbag, I’m going to have to give a high-five and buy him a drink,

When he’s sobered up, of course. So, I figure I’m off the hook until somewhere around March of 2024, give or take a lost weekend. Getting back on track, we were discussing said clusterf**k of a hearing, as she couldn’t watch or listen to it at work, due to the fact that she’s the embodiment of what you expect a dedicated mailperson to be, so as I had been watching it all morning, I was giving her the Cliff Notes detailing the blow by blows of what was going on.

Now, if you have seen it, describing it as a “clusterf**k” may actually be far too kind, as it could also be easily labeled as a “s**tstorm farce”, or as “a study in corrupted partisanship”, but in my personal estimation, it was akin to being forced to watch Lady Liberty receiving a back-seat finger-bang by an over-the-hill hooker wearing sandpaper gloves, stitched together using barbed wire.

Sure, there’s going to be an eventual payoff for all parties involved, but getting to that point is going to suck in a way you never thought would ever be possible in this country. The hearing itself though, was a truly glorious GOP train wreck- there was screaming. There were tantrums. There were accusatory side-eye glares as well as rude invectives and targeted slander. There were crocodile tears, scripted demonstrative breakdowns, and high school calendars making a rare cameo appearance.

And this was all broadcast live to an audience of millions around the world, who collectively, must have had the very same mass thought: Isn’t it supposed to be the women who are the emotional ones, and if so, why are these conservative men acting like they’re cosplaying the Dawn of Man scene from 2001: A Space Oddity?

I’ll speak only for myself here, but at one point I was wholly convinced that the U.S. representative for Ohio’s 4th congressional district Jim (“sex scandal whitewasher extraordinaire”) Jordan was going to start flinging his own poop at the very same television cameras he was overacting for, and then fashion a sleeping nest from the shredded campus police reports of the sexual abuse he allegedly covered up while serving as an assistant wrestling coach at Ohio State University.

It was truly one of the most bizarre things I’ve seen in my life, and that’s saying a lot, considering the tinted toddler failing as our president recently paid a visit to a medical equipment distribution facility in Allentown, PA, where once again, he didn’t wear a mask, and as usual, rambled on about topics ranging from PA’s Democratic Governor Tom Wolf, along with the media as always: “they are a disaster”, and added yet another scapegoat to his ever-growing list, that being “globalists”, a reference to the U.S. International Development Finance Corporation, (AKA: DFC) an agency that operates on a self-sustaining basis, meaning American taxpayers bear no cost, and which services over 160 countries worldwide by mobilizing private capital for new and expanding businesses.

Trumps hilariously caustic statement was his stereotypical mix of deflection and untruths: “You know what a globalist is? They want the globe to do well, but they don’t care about us.” There is literally so much clueless irony in that statement, that I’m pretty sure I could build my own Millennium Falcon using the core of it alone. But our Corona Cadet wasn’t done embarrassing himself and our country just yet, no-siree-Bob.

He then went on to say something that only an Adderall-fueled flesh suit would think to say out loud: “The moment this terrible virus reached our shores, each of you has worked relentlessly to get the vital supplies to our healthcare warriors, and they are warriors aren’t they, when you see them going into those hospitals and they’re putting the stuff that you deliver, but they’re wrapping themselves, and the doors are opening, and they’re going through the doors, and they’re not even ready to go through those doors, they probably shouldn’t, but they can’t get there fast enough, and they’re running into death just like soldiers run into bullets in a true sense, I see that with the doctors and the nurses and so many of the people that go into those hospitals, it’s incredible to see, it’s a beautiful thing to see.”

Yep… the craven who dodged the draft with phony bone spurs, who not only insulted a Gold Star Family but a war widow as well, and who can never insult anybody to their face if he’s denied access to Twitter, thinks that people running into bullets is a “beautiful thing to see.” Yep. Not f**king nuts at all. Stable genius. Best brain. Best words. Best looking. Doesn’t need advisors. Hires only the best people, as we all know.

And Kavanaugh? What a tasty draft pick- an alleged rapist, most definitely a blackout drinker, and whose main qualification is that he’s fully owned lock, stock and kegerator, by Trump, who is attempting to fill key positions in the US Government with lackeys, bootlickers, and morally adrift loyalists, in an effort to control the consequences he most likely will be facing due to his corruption and treasonous behavior thus far.

He’s not running for re-election; he’s desperately running for his life, and it’s as obvious as his incompetence. So, there I was, much to the amusement of my postmistress, acting out that morning’s histrionics of the GOP’s urgently deflecting representatives, when from the side doors,in  waddles a squat land hag whose face was set in a countenance that the cool kids might sympathetically describe as one that had tried unsuccessfully and with great effort, to french kiss a concrete mixer that was still in motion.

Aesthetically jarring to be sure, but the first impression that struck home was that I wasn’t aware that there was such a thing as a truly angry Ewok. I guess what they say is true, you really do learn something new every day, whether it’s willingly, or inadvertently inflicted upon you.

Stepping aside so as to let this seething Jawa access the service counter to mail her rather large pile of outgoing correspondence, I closed off my previously private conversation with a breezy aside, saying something along the lines of “It must be so embarrassing these days to be a Republican, don’tcha think?

This assessment by the way, I feel is more than valid, considering the GOP went from Eisenhower humbly saying; “If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt, it is mine alone.”, to a cravenly Great and Terrible Orange, mewling; “I take no responsibility.”.

Hearing my remark, this far-angrier-discount Deborah Lee Carrington whirls around, her face contorted with rage as if she had just witnessed a group of African-Americans enjoying themselves, and spat out; “WELL, IT SURE BEATS BEING A BABY KILLER!!!!”, and storms out, her tiny fists balled, her back ramrod straight, which I feel was more due to the stick up her ass, versus any predilection for good posture. *

BTW, Debbie Lee Carrington, was regarded as a very talented little person actress & stuntwoman, and is best known for her scene-stealing performance as the 3’10” lingerie-clad courtesan Thumbelina, in the 1990’s Arnold Schwarzenegger sci-fi film “Total Recall.” During a pivotal scene, Thumbelina shivs one of the movie’s deserving villains [in the crotch!] with a previously secreted knife, jumps up on the bar with a sub-machine gun, and starts mowing down the bad guys, Chicago-typewriter style. And it is BAD-ASS..

Now, as you can imagine, I was stunned into a very rare moment of silence, and not only because her slur came seemingly out of the never-never, but because it’s been at least a good twenty years since I made that kindergarten themed snuff film. See? that’s the real problem with the internet- it brings your past to the immediate future under a very bright light.

All horrible kidding aside, I was not expecting that, or anything close to it, outside of a town where I get asked regularly not only if my chakras are in alignment, but if I need any weed as well, at least twice a day. And in most cases, usually by the same person. Here’s a heads up- I would never kill a baby, but if it had some top-notch candy and refused to share it, odds are pretty good I might smack it around a little.

Speaking as someone who is rarely at a loss for words, I was at that time, doing a dead-on impression of Ron Perlman as “One” from the seminal movie City of Lost Children, and in so many words, it was viciously infuriating.

As she retreated, my brain was working at warp speed to deliver the savage retort my brain was formulating directly to my vocal cords, but due to being caught with my Adamantium claws retracted, all I could do instead of responding with either “Says the woman who never had her egg carton cracked open in the first place”, or “Spoken like someone whose uterus has the original price sticker still attached”, was stand there, gasping like a German out of sauerkraut.

There once was a bit on The Simpsons where Marge says: “How come you never think of the good insults until it’s too late? “Shut up Betty!!” Yeah… that would have been sweet.” It’s one of those private jokes my GF and I occasionally share, and while it never fails to crack me up, I never once thought I’d actually experience it in situ for myself.

Glancing through the front window of the post office as I stewed in my own snark, I observe that her truck has a Trump bumper sticker on it. Of course, it would. Hold on and scratch that, as I need to modify that statement. While there was only one sticker design affixed to her truck, there were at least THIRTY individual stickers covering the tailgate, the fenders, and some had even been trimmed out for the brake lights.

Does anybody remember the good old days when if somebody joined a cult, they had the social grace to shave their head, dress in robes, and play a tambourine, so the rest of us had the option when we saw them coming from a mile away to decide whether or not to avoid them?

Sigh… good times. Good times.

Damn. That’s a lot to unpack right there, but maybe I should give her credit for putting their mental illness out there for everyone to see. After all, it also serves as a warning to the rest of us that maybe getting to know all your neighbors isn’t always the best of ideas to begin with.

Hilariously or not, depending on your POV, it turns out that this mass of moronicness is a neighbor of mine just two blocks over, so I’ve been making it a point to drive past her house every time I leave my small community, blasting *Stevie Wonder’s “Keep Moving Forward” at ear-splitting volume. And let me tell you, I’m starting to think that my melodious meanderings are softening up her attitude a little, as she always makes sure to rush out and give my car a free wash as I cruise on by- is that thoughtful or what?

But as I depicted earlier, these sorts of loathsome interactions are few and far between where I live, as most of the town seem to be well set inside the ethically decorated walls of Liberalism, thank Odin. Sure, the occasional red-hat does pop up, but it usually reads the room correctly, and manages to keep its inanity to itself, at the very worst… or so I thought.

As previously ascribed, I live in a very small town, three hours from anywhere or anything metropolitan. Think Smallville versus Gotham. And because the people here unlike me, have both good manners and a sense of charitable sympathy, it’s also the kind of place where Kevin Sorbo might actually be regarded both as a celebrity, or an actor by some, despite all evidence to the contrary. However, there are scores of even smaller towns on the outlier here, and in more than a few of them, reside some of the most intellectually incoherent people I’ve ever run across, hands down.

I don’t want to imply in any way, shape or form that just because someone lives in a small rural community that they’re an inbred rube, but JFC, some of these Trumpeters could make the folks in the Dukes of Hazzard look like the denizens of Masterpiece Theatre by way of comparison.

Despite all that, and I know I’ve said it numerous times, but I really do love living here, and if I were to go one acidly harsh step further, it can also be noted that when it gets right down to it, that minus a few people, restaurants, and a very specifically particular list of art spaces & galleries, I don’t really miss my old bitching grounds of Phoenix much at all. I did what I needed to do, and it was way past time for me pack up the ol’ claws and move on to other challenges.

However? While I don’t miss the high-school mentality to be found among certain drama llamas within the PHX Art Scene, I do miss one vital component that always kept me going- that being the various adversaries that were to be found lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce upon the first sign of weakness.

Depending on whatever metaphorical *bolgia I found myself in, there was sure to be at least three to five people within it who despised everything about me, or more specifically, my so-called saturnally venomous POV. *[A division of the eighth circle of Hell, Malebolge, in Dante’s Divine Comedy. Think of what it would be like to be eternally trapped in a hotel room in New Jersey with Gilbert Gottfried, and you’ll be on the right track.]

For musicians, it was my undying love for ABBA that set them off, for dancers, my belief that Twyla Tharp was over-rated, for sculptors, the fact that I still think Richard Serra was and is, a talentless hack, and when it comes to the visual arts, don’t even get me started on how much I truly loathe Picasso and adore the late Patrick Nagel. Seriously, can someone please logically explain to me why this piece of garbage by Pablo Picasso is “worth” 69.4 million…And this gloriously ever so 80’s piece by the late Patrick Nagel, is openly dismissed as the lamest of POP?
Say what you will about beauty being in the eye of the beholder and all that, but a Picasso woman wouldn’t be able to pick up a blind frat-boy at last call, if her life depended on it. And when it comes to my love for Ding Dongs and the pink version of Snoballs, if you even dare mention Tastykakes in my presence, I will cut you like a bitch using a frozen and sharpened Little Debbie Nutty Buddy to do it. Just a warning. Everybody gets one.

Granted, while I do view confrontation very much in the same way that a small child looks forward to Christmas, I also expect a worthy nemesis when I find myself neck-deep in the thick of battle. As I’ve opined before: “They say you judge your success by your enemies… in which case, I definitely need some better enemies.”

Sadly, I have to state that while I’ve been here almost two years, overall, I haven’t really accumulated the pile of valid adversaries that someone like myself requires as a reason to get up in the morning. But I do think that’s about to change, as I’ve recently discovered a fully stocked enclave of crazy out here in the wilds of what is a customarily serene dreamland, and I couldn’t be happier. Imagine- a whole new dim-witted demographic for me to vex and taunt openly.

Christmas indeed came early this year boys and girls, and it was charitable enough to not only arrive baring gifts, but to bring a metaphorical cadre of thigh-booted Asian strippers in tow as well.

If there’s one thing I certainly relish more than a perfectly chilled plate of Ding-Dongs, it’s eating the withered souls of the intellectually devoid and wholly hypocritical. It’s both a hobby and a passion, which I’ve always felt, is the truest epitome of what a perfect balance should be. I recently created a new page on my main website called “Reich N’ Roll” where I post my Facebook interactions with these lauded graduates of Trump University, and it’s been ever so much fun, if not ever so easy, to compile the content for it.

 I really have to do nothing more than open up my web browser, and the cornucopia of idiocy flows like the wine at a Hemingway family reunion, in the sense that it devastatingly showcases both the true character and the willful ignorance of my fellow so-called patriotic Americans.  And in an ironic twist that makes me unsure as to whether to laugh or cry, it’s “hits’ are outranking the rest of my galleries by an astounding ratio of 8 to 1.

I think what this tells me is that I have a far more successful career ahead of me as an internet pundit, then I ever will have as a visual artist. Others might find that spiritually crushing, I just look at it as a means to saving tons of money on art supplies in the long run. Speaking of things getting crushed, common sense also appears to be the latest casualty in the never-ending battle against the horde of screeching harpies known far and wide as “Karens” or the male equivalent known as “Kevins”, in a seemingly never-ending battle royal for our country’s soul.

Once a crucial cornerstone of our country, it has of late, been pulverized under the relentless onslaught of these over-privileged white women and men demanding “rights” that they’ve never had and could never lose in the first place. However, if they had ever truly been possessors of these imaginary entitlements, it’s a sure-fire guarantee that they’d also make damn sure that those they erroneously consider beneath them wouldn’t be allowed to receive them in the first place.

This demographic would include naturally, the poor of every race including their own, the service class, the LGBTQ community, non-Christians, atheists, and of course… anybody who isn’t beige in both skin tone and personality. There are numerous variants within this definition of course, but as a rule of thumb, the double K’s are usually the type of people whom if the Nazis were still a policy-making power-block, would be the first ones in line to rat out their Jewish neighbors down the street for free.
Yeah… I said it, and no- an apology (yet again) is not forthcoming. These people play the victim so much, I’m amazed they don’t have their own limited-run series on TNT: “Tonight on Special Karens Unit- the squad has to investigate the trauma Karen suffers when she has to accept that there are other people on the planet.”

 I’d give special guest star Ice-T all of five minutes before he’d pimp-slap one of these feckless Botox dipped bitches upside their empty heads, and tell them to either step-up or step off. Or whatever he’d say. I’m not from Newark, so he’d know better than I, which way to go with it.  

Sadly however, it seems the double K’s out where I now live have grown tired of screeching incessantly about their being minorly inconvenienced, and decided to get into the restaurant business, and are openly breaking the law, using the paper-thin rationalization of personal “civil rights” to do it. What exactly am I talking about, you ask?

Well, up until about two weeks ago, the majority of the restaurants in my small town (if they were open) were doing phone-in for takeout orders only. No in-person dining was allowed due to state restrictions, and most people here just took it as one more minor thing we all needed to do to keep our fellow citizens safe.

But as is usual with the double K clan, being incommoded is regarded as no less than outright tyranny, parallel to being forcibly incarcerated within a prisoner of war camp. If there is one unintentional highlight we can collectively take from this pandemic, it’s that we now all know exactly which people have never had the word “no” said to them in their entire life.

With that as a lead-in, the place I’m referring to is a locally-owned Mexican food joint out here called Jalisco’s Café. I’ve eaten there quite a lot in the past, as lard, refried beans, and green chile have been alleged to constitute at least 60% of my blood, but no longer, due both to their willful ignorance and smattering of racism.

And to explain what I just stated, I’ll be using some visual aids. Sorry- they’ll be photos, not hand-puppets doing inappropriate things. Maybe next time. First, this establishment weeks before the state-sanctioned 50% occupancy restrictions were initiated, allowed sit-in dining, an action that even with enforced social distancing, was breaking established health code law at the time, no matter what these internet constitutionalists like to claim.

This of course, led to the justified suspension of their food handler permit, yet it continued to do business as normal, because… America, F**K YEAH, I guess?
See? That’s an official document and everything pasted on their front door. You can tell how serious it is by all the legalese and signatures and stuff. Plus, when you see any kind of seal or logo, you know the people behind it aren’t f**king around. They paid cash for that graphic designer, and they’re going to get their money’s worth, believe you me. Second, along with the health code violation, there was also “medical documentation” posted in the front windows as an attempt to rationalize as to why this business should be allowed to violate well-established health protocols.

So, where did he get this so-called medical knowledge from, you ask? The Centers for Disease Control (AKA; the CDC) most certainly? Nope. Ok, maybe Michael Mesa, the owner of Jalisco’s, asked the NM State Health Department for this critical information so that he could inform his customers using the most up-to-date research that they could offer him? I’m afraid not.

Wait, you’re right- I totally forgot the local angle at play here, so he most definitely decided to ask our community hospital or possibly even his personal doctor, to assist in his campaign to inform his clientele of what was really going on.

Oh… he didn’t do that either? Well, who did he ask then, one of his busboys? I’m sorry- that was a ridiculous supposition, as well as being somewhat insulting. He naturally of course, got his information off the Internet, just like any rational person who’s trying to make sure that the information they present isn’t biased or inaccurate at all.

Hey, whatd’ya know, this online Disney quiz says not only is my moon in retrograde, but that my spirit animal is actually Shere Khan from the Jungle Book. I knew it! The only problem with this, other than the fact that shockingly, internet-discovered information isn’t worth the pixels it consumes 90% of the time, is who the source quoted was, that being one Dr Russell Blaylock, a physician and author who is an active voice within the junk science community.

Way to use that search algorithm, kids!

Known for coining the truly catchy phrase ”excitotoxins”, a term that’s become quite popular with modern-day snake oil salesmen, he allegedly believes that cancer-causing nanoparticles have been intentionally released into the atmosphere via “chemtrails” as part of a collaborative government / corporate plot.

Derided for his maliciously inept and wholly baseless declarations by no less than Skeptic’s Dictionary and QuackWatch, who labeled him as an anti-vaxxer, he also extensively markets his own line of uncorroborated “Brain Repair Formula” supplements, which quite correctly earned him the honor of being christened the “quack of the day” by The Vaccine Conspiracy Theorist.

This unethical promotion extends to other so-called “remedies” that he endlessly touts, which are based on his claims alone that certain neurological disorders stem from the consumption of aspartame, MSG and other additives in our food supply- which naturally of course, only his products can possibly cure or treat. For his part, he publicly sanctions opinions that are drastically inconsistent with established scientific agreement, such as that the H1N1 influenza (swine flu) vaccine conveys a higher jeopardy to one’s health than the disease itself, and that any dose of GMOs is too much.

Blaylock has also advised that despite the research by McGill University’s Joe Schwarcz, which shows no recognized evidence to bolster his claims, that antioxidants, fish oil, and vitamin D, efficaciously steel one against contracting the flu.

However, that’s not even the deepest level of irrationality that he endeavors to reach, for not only has he branded the United States medical structure as wholly ‘collectivist’ , all while promoting a theorem that health-care reform efforts undertaken by former President Obama were instigated by a cabal that attempted (unsuccessfully) to enact euthanasia, a truly “WTF?!?” position, by any stretch.

And if that still wasn’t enough, he’s espoused an equally unhinged conspiracy theory that the former Soviet Union tried to spread its version of collectivism by clandestinely introducing numerous sexually transmitted diseases into the United States, along with illegal drugs. Because as we all know here in the West, we didn’t have either of those issues until those Red bastards took an interest. This pile of flaming debunked inanity is fueled by Blaylocks so-called books, his websites, and his self-founded institutes, known as Theoretical Neuroscience Research, and Advanced Nutritional Research, respectively.

Not to be overshadowed by these foundational stones, he has also been a regular guest on the Christian Broadcasting Network, stereotypically appearing on the talk show of the hilariously demented grifter and full-time Jesus pimp, televangelist Pat Robertson, who once seriously stated: “The feminist agenda is not about equal rights for women. It is about a socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.“.

My personal favorite media appearances hands down though, are the habitual ones he makes on Infowars.com, with host Alex (They’re turning the frogs gay!!!) Jones. Can you envision the level of nutbar those two must reach together? It would be as if Andy Kaufman just before he died, set loose a previously unknown army of his clones upon the world in his last great act of performance art. And to close off this assessment of Jalisco Cafés resident Doctor of Density, I will leave you with this declaration, posted prominently in the windows of the restaurant:
As an honest aside, I truly loved science in school, and still do, as it explains almost everything. Sure, I still have no answer as to why hot dogs and hot dog buns are still legally allowed to be packaged in different quantities, but I was never a science nerd, and I never was the type who claimed I was. But even given the limited grasp I possess on how the Universe works, even I know deep down that this supposition is pure unadulterated bullspit of the highest caliber.

Seriously- this is the guy that Mesa willingly listened to when he chose his metaphorical hill to die on? I can only surmise that when Mesa looks back upon this severe miscalculation regarding what was his once-lauded business, I’m sure his inner theoretical conversation with the spirit of Baylock and the others of his ilk would bring to mind tis seminal quote from the 1978 film Animal House: “Flounder, you can’t spend your whole life worrying about your mistakes! You f**ked up. You trusted us!

Here’s the truth of the matter, Mikey- I unreservedly support local business 100%. In fact, it’s one of the main reasons why I love this community so damn much. If this was a case of just opening for the sake of your business by doing take-out orders only, and your employees were arduously following the established safety protocols as they are currently doing, I would promote you to the fullest of my ability.

But you didn’t do that. You opened up for sit-in dining long before the regulations were relaxed, a potential health risk of epic idiocy and illegality, and also engaged in an act of completely unnecessary racism by offering this vile sign for public absorption:
I just have to ask… what in God’s mythical name is wrong with you? “Wuhan” Luhan? I’m not sure what I should be angrier about- your childish as hell riposte, the deliberate misspelling of our governor’s name (it’s “Lujan”, actually) your arrogance, or your f**ked up slur. You don’t like our Governors policies regarding the safety of your fellow citizens, then get off your ass and go vote her out of office

Believe me, I do get that side of the coin you’re trying to hide behind, as after all, you do have a business, you’re invested, and hopefully, you’re also thinking of your employees as well, because you have integrity. I can respect that, coming from, and remaining so, proud blue-collar stock.

What I, and many others in this town can’t understand is your need to merge an ignorant Trumpism with a pointless act of defiance. You violated the law, It’s just that simple. Your rights aren’t, and never were, in jeopardy for any reason, and as much as I love your tacos, which are the bomb, I’m not going to let you off the hook just because your green chile sauce is a certified freaking miracle.

On top of picking the wrong allies [more on that in a bit] for your cause Mike, you also most certainly chose the wrong way to express your discontent with policies you wrongly think are unconstitutional. *Spoiler: they’re not.

Reaching back into the history of such, an early verdict to ponder is the end result that emanated from the U.S. Supreme Court regarding the power of the State to enforce quarantine. Arising from a 1824 case that is branded in history as Gibbons v. Ogden, it was considered a momentous decision regarding the application of federal authority in relation to commerce on the interstate waters. The notable Chief Justice John Marshall, elucidated that one of the powers the state possessed was the power to quarantine.

At the time, this judgement was not seen as contentious; for as Marshall stated, the power to quarantine was seen as an authoritative stance “flowing from the acknowledged power of a State to provide for the health of its citizens.” In addition, there was another legal benchmark that was about to be set, resulting from a case out of Louisiana. titled Compagnie Francaise de Navigation a Vapeur v. Louisiana Board of Health.

Louisiana over the course of two summers, had been plagued by outbreaks of the mosquito-borne Yellow Fever, which when once carried over to humans, scourged the state. Naturally, this led to Louisiana taking a fairly aggressive attitude towards quarantining both the affected and the healthy alike.

The directive that the judiciary had to contemplate stated that: “hereafter in the case of any town, city, or parish of Louisiana being declared in quarantine, no body or bodies of people, immigrants, soldiers, or others shall be allowed to enter said town, city, or parish so long as said quarantine shall exist.”

A state-enforced position that isn’t too dissimilar to some of the legal edicts that have triggered outlandish displays from some of the more privileged double K clan covidiots over the past few months. By a split vote of 7-2, the court upheld Louisiana’s stance as constitutional, despite a legal challenge posed by a group of travelers who had endeavored to enter Louisiana after their arrival on a ship hailing from Italy.

Despite the certainty of there being no indication of disease within, the court ruled in favor of the state’s reasoning that it was guilty of nothing more than trying to shelter its citizens, and therefore, Louisiana’s actions to do so did not violate the Constitution.

So, please stop pretending you’ve been cast in the role of a modern-day Thomas Jefferson, when you’re more akin to the infamous Ephialtes of Trachis by willingly presenting yourselves and others to a risk that nobody deserves.

The historical context: As described by Herodotus the historian, Ephialtes betrayed the Greeks enmeshed in battle at Thermopylae. It was there the outnumbered Greeks defended their position within an alleged to be impenetrable pass situated between the Malian Gulf and an elevation to the West. Herodotus’ depiction of the event states that Ephialtes informed the formidable Persian forces of a rudimentary and unknown path that presented the advantage of being behind the up until then, impermeable Greek bottleneck.

Once the Persians implemented this newfound knowledge, the Greeks were inevitably slaughtered wholesale. In an ironic twist, Ephialtes never received his anticipated reward, due to the Persians defeat at the Battle of Salamis. Fleeing to Thessaly, he discovered to his horror that the Amphictyons at Pylae was offering a recompense for his death.

According to the account scribed by Herodotus, his end came at the hands of Athenades of Trachis for an seemingly unconnected. However, the Spartans rewarded Athenades for his deed, so the moral here boys and girls, is not to be an untrustworthy dick, lest ye meet you end going full commando in off-the-rack toga.

I’m just saying that If you hate wearing a mask, you’re definitely not going to enjoy the experience of having a ventilator tube jammed down your throat, and you’re really going to despise the awkward conversation foisted upon you at the funeral of someone you possibly helped kill.

Now I do understand that my assessment may come off as a bit caustic, but suck it up, you bitter little buttercups- I’m done playing with you, and I’m most certainly done with tolerating your selfishness, your imaginary right to privilege, and your insane comparisons of living under and within a fascist paradigm, just because you’ve been courteously asked to not be an egocentric jackass for a few minutes.

Mask it or casket. It really is that simple.

If the experts are correct about using masks and following other safety protocols, then we can collectively put brakes on this runaway plague. And if they’re wrong, well, then we all got to look like modern day cowboys for a few weeks, or in my case- a minor character understudy from Mortal Kombat.

You know, even after this is all over, I may stay dedicated to this look for a while, as it makes people get the hell out of my way, and I’m not going to lie, I am totally digging that. What these snowflake double K’s are ignoring, almost on purpose it seems, is that these public safety measures are at worst, a temporary inconvenience.

A rapidly expanding pandemic is literally the only justified time that these extraordinary measures must be enacted, to curb or in this case flatten, the transmission of an exceedingly infectious and possibly lethal disease. Separating the sick from the healthy is a key component in stopping the rampant infection, and whether the screaming for “liberation” loonies want to believe it or not, the authorities are acting in the best interest of their citizenry.

This level of self-absorption naturally results in asinine declarations that some form of illegal discrimination is taking place against them:Yep… why should you follow common sense safety protocol, if other people aren’t? That totally justifies putting your fellow humans at risk, does it not? Come to think of it, why should any of us follow any of the so-called rules society places upon us? After all, we’re born naked, so there really should be no reason as to why I can’t do my regular grocery shopping in the nude, am I right?

These by the way, are the very same people who tell us that if we’re “so afraid” we should “just stay home”, but are also the same ones who have a meltdown when anyone dares reminds them, that their convenience isn’t a priority. On a side note, the person behind this screenshotted density has piqued my interest, due to similar comments such as this and other posts regarding their political point of view, so I’ll be dealing with them in the upcoming continuation of this screed.

Now, is there a firmly set date as to when they can definitively state that this pandemic will have finally and safely subsided? Currently there is not, and most likely won’t be until all the data is researched, compiled, debated, rechecked, debated again, and finally tallied and given to the general public.

But despite what all the anti-government covidiots like to screech, when the danger to the populace’s health is no longer a viable threat, the restrictions in regards to it will fade to no more than a talking point, to be argued about over family dinners for years to come. And if they don’t, then and only then, should we all go dust off our tri-corn hats and muskets. The end goal of all this of course, will be the hopes of returning these Karens back to their natural environment, demanding to see the manager, because the barista forgot to add soy-milk to their cappuccino.

Speaking of the Klan of Karens, you may have found yourself curious as to how they’re spending all their free time, since their stereotypical routine of screaming at underpaid wage warriors, and calling the cops on black people for doing white people things, has found itself severely curtailed as of late due to the aforementioned pandemic.
So, what do you do if you’re an unoccupied princess of privilege, and you live in a small town like mine? Obviously, you take to the internet and in all-caps no less, complain about being nicely asked to not be a selfish child for the five and a half minutes you’re inside the Albertsons, wrongly claiming that your civil rights are being violated.

Putting aside your normal xenophobic “the law is the law” meme postings on your Facebook, you then publicly throw your support behind a business that’s not only openly breaking the law, but courting some of the worst examples of hypocritical humanity to back them up as they do so.

Why? Well, it’s all in order to “own” those pesky “Libtards”, who are so callously asking for you to take care of yourself and the others around you. Next thing you know, liberals will be demanding that you don’t put a plugged-in toaster into the bathtub with your kids.

What monkey-masturbating mother-f**kers.

There’s an old maxim, that states; “When you hang out in the wrong places with the wrong people, you will soon do wrong things”, and that’s solid and practical advice, no matter what situation you may find yourself in, but in relation to this one? Most definitely. So, who are these allies that have circled their wagons around this den of delicious density?

Well, it’s a mixed bag; long-time faithful customers certainly, a few fellow local business owners, the politically apathetic, the aforementioned double K’s who don’t care one way or the other what happens to themselves or others as long as they can still get their plate of tacos, and of course, “Cowboys for Trump”.

Mind you, I didn’t say random cowboys who just happen to be fans of Trump, I’m talking about an organized group of cowboys “for” Trump, which when given the fact that all types of people are puzzlingly enamored with Trump, having cowboys within that mix doesn’t strike as all that strange to begin with. Especially when you consider that out where I live, we have real-life cowboys all over the place- I literally see the Marlboro Man 3 times a week, wearing well-worn spurs, and smoking hand-rolled cigarettes, as they down a cold one at the local watering hole.

Whereas the Marlboro Man would probably judge you solely by your word, your work ethic, possibly your church attendance, and your ability to take a kick to the face from a truly not-to-be-broken horse, these “cowboys” so ain’t that. Not by a long shot. No pun intended.

But before I get into highlighting the who, the what, and as to the why they’re far more relevant to this story and more importantly, to the issues surrounding Jalisco’s than the other patrons, let me share their “vision” so-called, as posted on their website: “To support our sitting President Donald J. Trump and his Make America Great Again policies.  We believe that by securing our border, protecting our second Amendment, and protecting the lives of the unborn are the most vital and key aspects in Americas Greatness.

We also want to stand up and support rural America thru greater access to public lands, natural resources, and rural industries. We advocate against the attacks of environmental and radical endangered species acts. The backbone of America is found in the logging, ranching, mining, farming and oil and gas industries. And those are the industries in which we support.”

Along with this declaration of backing a man who hypocritically at best, advocates for their supposed values, they then go on to state the following: “We believe that we are a nation at crisis and want to show support for our President who is standing with us preserving our way of life. Our three main concerns are: (1) Securing our nation’s porous southern border. (2) Protecting the unborn (3) Preserving our 2nd Amendment right.”

Now, I could address the mangling of proper grammar here, or the fact that their website looks like most of their operating capitol goes to buying Trump flags to pose with in selfies, but I have somewhat bigger horses to go and geld. As is the norm with the majority of Trump’s slavishly uneducated base, an amalgamation of putrefactive patriotism, religious zealotry, wholesale duplicity and xenophobia reinforce their tissue-paper thin intellectualism, much to the chagrin of those who have to deal with them directly, and the amusement of us who don’t.

What isn’t funny however, is just how these people endeavor to remain willingly ignorant in relation to what’s actually going on outside the boundaries of their small and fearfully paranoid world. Once again, we go to their website: “Unfortunately our nation’s security is being used as a political bargaining chip with the residents of our nation’s borderlands paying the price. We believe we are a nation of laws and want to see those laws upheld. As a nation, we must stand behind President Trump and his push for strong border security.

We organized this ride to support our President and our Nation. This is the nation that we love and the nation that has always been considered a place where freedom and liberty ring. A Nation where justice is upheld and law and order are embraced. A nation where our political leaders are put into office to serve the American people and not their own interests. We want to secure these God-given rights for our future generations. We firmly believe this is a demand of “We The People” and a demand that MUST be carried forth.

Our ride was not only be a symbol of support but more importantly a symbol of unity. A unity that is not created by political agendas nor created by partisan lines. We want to show a unity that is upheld and supported by who we are as Americans and the ideals and principles that make America the very best! We as Americans, by God’s grace, can get our country back and make America Great Again.

2 Chronicles 7:14 tells us that if we will pray, repent, and turn from our wicked ways that God will hear our prayers and heal our land; that in a nutshell, is what we must do. We must seek God. We must turn from our wickedness as a nation. We must love our neighbor as our self. We MUST do this NOW.”

Ok… let’s unpack this s**t sandwich, shall we? Quite honestly, there’s nothing more nauseating, and I say this as both a recovering Catholic and proud American, than to see hypocrites who’ve wrapped themselves in the Flag, justify their own character flaws and targeted abuses against the innocent community at large, by purposefully misinterpreting the Word.

The very concept that a group of God-fearing warriors who believe that they’re battling for the soul of America would vaunt a lying, racist, homophobic, xenophobic, misogynistic, cravenly, traitorous, grifting, adulterous, porn-star paying, narcissistic man-child who golfs every Sunday rather than attend church, as their lauded champion isn’t only laughable, it’s damn near sociopathic.

I for one, don’t recall any part of the Bible where this sort of behavior is given a pass, especially for someone who once said in two separate interviews: “I have great relationship with God. I have great relationship with the Evangelicals. I like to be good. I don’t like to have to ask for forgiveness. And I am good. I don’t do a lot of things that are bad. I try to do nothing that is bad. I just go on and try to do a better job from there. I don’t think so, I think if I do something wrong, I think, I just try and make it right. I don’t bring God into that picture. I don’t.”

Color me curious, but did Larry Flynt ever publish a version of the Bible that’s sold exclusively through Horse Tack shops or more likely, PornHub?

Because if so, it adequately would explain as to why these self-proclaimed Christians ignore their own blatant disingenuousness. For all their chatter that liberals are “intolerant”, they always seem to be the only ones who want to chill the Free Press, ban gay marriage, limit women’s healthcare options, openly deport Mexicans, ban voting by mail, slur all Muslims as terrorists, demand that oppositional party politicians be arrested for imaginary crimes, and turn a deliberately blind eye to police murdering African-Americans with chilling impunity as they fail to successfully boycott any person or corporation daring to promote diverse or humanistic views. Ironically, the only thing Liberals truly cannot tolerate is intolerance. Funny, that.

I’ve said it before, and I know I will say it again, but it’s my opinion that these people are Christians in very much the same way that Donald Trump is a faithful husband, or that Kevin Sorbo will ever be mistaken for an actual actor. And if these riders of a short-horse ever bothered to actually read the Constitution, they’d be shocked to realize that the rights they claim are always being denied to them, apply to others as well.

Because when it comes to their interpretation of the Bible, man… are they in for one hell of a shock when they get to meet Jesus. I’m pretty sure he’s going to have some thoughts, and they’re not going to like the Post-It notes he’s been jotting down. But overall, why should anybody really care if a bunch of working cowboys want to take time off from their ranches, farms, and part-time jobs entertaining children at birthday parties, to go ride their hobby-horses to the White House in a show of support for our incompetent president, who quite honestly, wouldn’t piss on these sheeple if they were on fire?

More than the unintentional humor these flag-waving Hatetriots provide, is what they disquietingly represent- the hateful underbelly of modern politics that threatens to flash over into physical violence based on no more than a whim. What do I base this potentially valid belief of mine on, you ask? In general, I may actually not be the best one to answer that, as after all, it would just be my simple little opinion, and Lord knows, what could that be worth in the end?

So, in my case to strive for accuracy, I’ll just go straight to the Fountain of Goof to get the evidence I need to bolster my assertion, as personified by the founder of Cowboys for Trump, that being current Republican Otero County Commissioner Couy Griffin, who, if I were trying to remain diplomatic, I would classify as an individual with a truly unique point of view, to say the very least.

And as an aside, if anyone out there can give me the entomology behind his first name, I would be eternally grateful, as all I’m coming up with are jokes involving cactus and the Spanglish nickname for Chewbacca.Normally, as an elected official, you’d think that you’d try to avoid any form of controversy that might threaten your public standing, but Griffin is definitely a true maverick. And by that, I mean his mouth needs not only to remain closed lest others become infected by his asinine rhetoric, but if it has to be open, there should probably be a bit in it, to keep said blather rendered even more unintelligible than it already is.

You’re probably curious as to what this cosplaying as a cowboy troglodyte has had to say about the issues of the day, and let me tell you, some of his less-than-intelligent assessments are a showcase for highlighting the depth to which a combined mélange of personal delusion and ignorance can sink.

By way of example, he rationalized to the Daily Beast that people who were protesting against lockdown orders were possibly justified in using violence, as he feels that Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer and Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam, are no less than traitors who deserve to be killed for imposing vital restrictions to help flatten the curve of the Coronavirus pandemic.

I can hear you all saying, “so what?” in relation to what I just presented. After all, why should anybody care about yet another fringe group that eventually, SNL will be making fun of? So, what if a bunch of faux patriots led by someone who preaches a gospel of vehement insurrection, and who violates the very tenets of the faith he claims to follow, likes to get on his literal high-horse and go for a ride every now and then with a bunch of like-minded muttonheads?

This is America, and last time I checked, you can do, within reason of course, pretty much whatever you want. Or it was America when I woke up this morning- I haven’t checked Twitter yet to see what our mad king has decreed.

Here’s why we all should care: a direct quote from the (alleged) Man with No Brain that raised more than a few alarm bells during his discourse, was this gem: “You get to pick your poison: You either go before a firing squad, or you get the end of the rope,” When queried about the possibility that protestors may become increasingly violent, he replied that: “I’ll tell you what, partner, as far as I’m concerned, there’s not an option that’s not on the table,”

While speaking at a church in Truth or Consequences located in New Mexico, he irresponsibly and glibly opined that: “the only good Democrat is a dead Democrat.”, a comment that he somewhat walked back after receiving valid condemnation from not only New Mexican citizens, but from Marg Elliston, the Democratic Party of New Mexico Chairwoman, as well.

Elliston responded to his inanity by saying: “Violent speech like this has no place in New Mexico politics. The silence from New Mexico Republican officials is deafening and implies their tacit approval of Commissioner Griffin’s behavior.” Every Republican candidate and elected leader should condemn Griffin’s actions “unequivocally, and Griffin should resign his post,”

As to be expected, the state GOP response regarding Griffin’s clarion call to violence, has remained dishonorably weak. For his part, Griffin feebly contended that his comments were taken out of their true context, stating that they were never intended to be taken literally, and averring that he was referring to their political careers, and not their lives.

I don’t say that in the physical sense, and I can already see where the videos getting edited where it says I want to go murder Democrats. No,” Griffin elocuted, “I say that in the political sense because the Democrat agenda and policy is anti-American right now. I absolutely don’t want to harm anybody; I don’t agree with the Democrat platform.”

Later adding to his remarks, he expounded: “I’m saying it politically speaking and I’m saying it because we need to have majorities in the House and the Senate. It’s the only way that we’re gonna put the brakes on an out-of-control governor.

Sure… I’d buy that explanation for a dollar, and I’m sure the rest of you would as well. This ironic hypocrisy by the way, emanates from a man who not only has repeatedly criticized necessary pandemic related limitations, but who later told The Daily Beast that he “could’ve chosen a different verbiage. I guess I need to be more careful when I choose the words that I speak,” he admitted, “But you know, it’s just so hypocritical of the left how they’re blowing this up, like I’m some hate-speech murderer.

Yeah, it’s so hypocritical of us as a group to call someone out for openly declaring that people who don’t share their political disposition should be killed, based on nothing more than a highly warped worldview and a misinterpretation of the Constitution.

Despite multiple demands for his immediate resignation, Griffin has declared that he will not do so, because he believes he did nothing wrong in the first place. Not too surprisingly, this steaming pile of fecund folly was retweeted by our Toddler in Chief, thereby negating Griffins faux apologetics, and giving it a sense of unwarranted validity among his cult.

Comically, this wouldn’t be the first stand for erratic idiocy that Griffin has drawn a symbolic line in the sand for. Previously, using the platform of Twitter much like his incompetent idol, Griffin carped of being denied access to his local Walmart due to their unyielding request that all customers wear face masks in order to enter the store.

Cryptically threatening that: “It might be a lead up to a civil war,” Griffin continued: “And if we do have a civil war over this, maybe that’s gonna be the uniforms. Maybe one of the uniforms will have masks on and the other ones won’t.” Griffin also attempted to defend his contemptable history of uttering incendiary declarations to New Mexican columnist Milan Simonic by claiming that, “I’m the target of lies and slander, horrible slander. There’s no uproar from the left over that.”

A charge that currently, he has been unable as of yet, to ascertain with any form of proof.

Drawing on his previous skillset as a traveling street preacher, Griffin now uses his odious gift for twisting logic and reality into the formulation of a political movement based in ignorance and paranoia, that literally rides in on a horse. There’s an old and well-known rejoinder that goes: “F**k you and the horse you rode in on.”, and while I’ve used that as a retort in the past, I never once thought it would ever be an actually tangible concept.

Granted, these Dupes of Hazzard are no worse or no better than the majority of the cultists that kiss the gilded feet of their spray-tanned version of *ḥēṭ’ ha‘ēggel, but for me, there’s the local connection to consider. Back in May, Jalisco’s Cafe which at that point, had been openly violating a state-issued public health order, and as of yet, has suffered no tangible consequences for doing so, served as the Cowboys for Trump meeting point before they paraded through the streets, traveling to Gough Park in Silver City for an “Open New Mexico” rally.

What a great series of mixed messages Mesa was promoting with this alliance… come in for the Chiles Rellenos, stay for the religious hypocrisy, faux patriotism, the xenophobic ignorance, and threats of metaphorical hangings! You know, just like your abuela used to make? *[The Golden Calf referenced in the Bible]

Now, if I were to play Devil’s Advocate here for a moment, I would unreservedly put forth the credence that one cannot choose who expresses support for them, but the person in question can choose whether or not to support them right back.

For instance, the KKK openly endorsed Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign for President, a position which normally, should give anyone who isn’t a malignant narcissist a moment of inward reflection as to why that might be, but to be fair, Trump’s campaign did quickly issue the following statement in regards to it: “Mr. Trump and the campaign denounces hate in any form. This publication is repulsive and their views do not represent the tens of millions of Americans who are uniting behind our campaign.”

Granted, as we’ve all come to see, that sole declaration wasn’t worth spit, but I digress. After all, when you’ve locked up the White supremacist vote without even trying, your inherent problem probably goes a lot deeper than some bad PR. Speaking of which… if Mesa wasn’t truly cognizant of Griffins controversial and inflammatory remarks, along with his hilariously blatant Christian hypocrisy, than I can understand his acceptance of their pony show without question, and suggest that we should all just cut him some slack.

Note that I said “some”, not “all”. There is still the Piper to be paid in regards to his deliberate actions, and he’s long overdue in settling that account in full. But there is an alleged caveat of sorts that also needs to be given equal consideration, that being, what if he did know?

After all it’s one thing to plead ignorance regarding the character of people who are obviously strangers to you, but if you were banking on positive publicity and the support of your local community to shield you from the state entities determined to castigate you and your business for breaking the law, would you have so graciously accepted CFT’s virulent “help” wholesale? T

here are really only two possibly valid responses to my academic and hypothetical query, and those are separated into the short reply of “Hell, no”, and the slightly longer one of “Oh, f**k no.” I won’t make any snap judgements about Mesas’ overall character, as it would be extremely arrogant if not slanderous, of me to do so without the proper statistical data, but if the adage that you’re judged by the company that you keep is even remotely true, than he’s going to need a severe makeover, and that right quick.

Think of it as a “Queer Eye” type of intervention, but instead of addressing issues with his fashion sense, it would address his fascist sense, or to be more specific, his willing collaboration with a group of people who openly support one. It’s fairly obvious however, that when it comes to how he runs his business, Mesa believes in a slightly distorted take on the old Seussian axiom of “Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind!”.

Except that when it comes to his interpretation of its context, he‘s taken it to heart that as long as there are unquestioning loyalists who eat his food no matter what legal decrees he casually ignores, all those who disagree publicly to his arrogant stance aren’t to be factored in at all.

Let’s keep in mind though, what sort of people he already has and will continue to be attracting into his restaurant with all of his puerile posturing. The reality here is that when it gets right down to brass tacks, if he’s openly comfortable with posting a racist dog whistle on the side of his building, as well as plastering his front windows with debunked internet snake oil of the lowest quality, then his willingly folding tortillas with faux patriots who moonlight as the American version of the Taliban, won’t probably tip the scales toward the positive for anyone whose intellect still works.

If this group of xenophobic hypocrites is considered either as a desired customer demographic to be courted, or far worse- as valuable allies by Mesa, I can only imagine (with a dawning sense of sickening trepidation) just exactly whom or what, he’d be more than willing to consider sponsoring in the future.

As I suggested earlier, come in for the Chiles Rellenos, stay for the religious hypocrisy, the faux patriotism, the xenophobic ignorance, and threats of metaphorical hangings, and if he plays his cards right, who knows what can happen… maybe the next big event he’ll agree to cater for his new Cowboy buddies, will be a midnight torch-lit get-together on somebody’s front lawn.

The White robes being optional, of course.

“The only thing worse than a bigot is an “ally” who can’t stop congratulating themselves on their enlightenment.”- Julio Alexi Genao