A Shadow Falls Over The Shire
Once upon a time, way back in that distant past, America and the world was blessed by the almighty heavenly host with the continuing guffaw inspiring antics of our own sacred national treasure or timely comic relief depending on your point of view. Those who now claim to be Trump supporters along with those few pitiable "conservatives" left out of all the current "fun," in a fit of pique and righteous indignation inspired by their Bibles and Colt 45 (the booze and the gun) were finally relieved to believe they were finally rewarded with what they thought of as "one of our own" installed as the god emperor of all, in that shining city on the hill, called D.C. Oz finally had its great and wise wizard.
That ever so righteously indignant city by the bay known as D.C. (a comic book name for the comic book posturing), had never known such joyous times. Besides being a gift bestowed by heavens on the good people of small town USA! USA! USA!, and besides for the rest of the us and thems of the not-so-small towns - our gift, which was said by our sacred clown prince himself as no less a gift then from the great master architect Himself - well, to some the bona fide circus clown keeping us boundlessly entertained was not so amusing as we watched our once hopeful and "progressive" dreams of a neu-World Order (with kale chips on the side) vanish into bits and pieces, while the NEOcon WORLD ORDER started to finally take shape. That shape was in the form of a jackboot firmly implanted into our collective faces as the lines were drawn and the curtains lowered, and the turrets were manned. Fortress America was the neu black.
We were all told to hide under the covers and quake in fear because "they" were coming to "git us becuz they hates our freedoms, but don't worry children, daddy is going to get to work at protecting our freedoms by taking them away, just for a while mind you. So DO NOT WORRY about that. It is just small print and really boring and you wouldn't understands it and REMEMBER do not worry about the men behind the curtain with the big cigars and bigger bank accounts because they are all about USA! USA! USA!"
Not everyone took "all that" lieing down. Why even our ever so precious Clintons and other (D)s and so on were righteous in their fury against the darkening twilight of their "progressive" dream. Sure, almost all of them had to be shaken awake from their slumber - as being true patriots they were lulled into a fever dream of dread and fear of the invasion of the bogeyman into our shangri-la of purity and "caring good folks" just like the rest of small town USA! USA! USA!. But eventually as the shine on the crown of our clown prince faded, the Clintons and the (D)s awakened from their delusional fever dream as surely as mist evaporates in the morning sun. Luckily it was just in time to run for office again! Divine providence and medical miracle all in one! But alas, OUR SAVIOR (pbuh) appeared and before you could say Willie Horton 3 times and click your shoes - there was no going home again for the now woke Clinton and her compadre and courtesans and so on.
The Fates Intervene
Flash forward to the present and we see that while the coat of our savior (pbaj) has been ripped a few places and is in tatters like the world he leaves us, luckily the Clintons are back to save us once again from a new dread menace. The old bogeyman has been exposed and is no longer feared, why he was just farmer Joe in a mask who was angry at the kids and their loud music and sexy skirts. Old funny farmer Joe and his funny beard, hey he's kinda a cute old guy in his own rustic way isn't he? And god knows he is rich as frak, and hey, times are lean aren't they? No need to upset THAT apple cart (if u no wut eye meen.)
Luckily for the progressive dreamers like the Clintons, this time there is no sacred clown prince, AND no world savior either to detour them on their happy way back home again. Why it seems like heaven is showering her blessings once again as "our sacred mission to stop THE BEAST" is clear!
Everyone quaked in fear or laughed at the plight as the beastly beast huffed and puffed and blowed down all the little houses of all the little pigs. YOU'RE FIRED he bellowed, as his cheeks ballooned and violently exhaled vicious storms decimating the shelters of the poor little pigs who never stood a chance. Being a master builder THE BEAST was well prepared for any onslaught aimed at his abode - why it was so strong that even all the little piggies combined into a giant slop fed hog couldn't make a dent in that mighty fortress of doom.
And gallantly into the fray galloped our benighted hero atop her trusty steed (it was so unfortunate and unfair that her trusty steed was not allowed to bask in the glory of THE LIGHT at Valhalla hall at the hero's gala USA! USA! USA!). Was that a dark portent? Was heaven removing her munificent benediction upon Our Lady of Progressive? OH NO! what to do what to do - what to do? And the lightbulb above the head went blinky blink and the path was clear.
Look everyone, over there, no not at me, over there, way over there, hurry, hurry. See, see that blood red apirition behind the curtain, behind the veil, inside the walls, and under our beds? BLUE MEANIES! Except when everyone looked they were not blue at all. Why they were red. Red as the blood as the handwriting on the wall over that great hall of Valhalla: "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."