Saturday, August 1, 2015

Letter, Trump, 49 Cents

Dear Donald Trump,

     The "debates" are in a few days.

     Speaking as an ex-Mouseketeer and as a living legend among the outlaw biker community, please allow me to offer some suggestions on how to handle the hostility and disingenuineness that is going to be hurled your way by the other "candidates" in the "debate" where nothing will actually be debated.

     First of all there will be a lot of name-calling hurled your way. There will also be accusations of impiety.

     Remember, we are not electing a candidate for sainthood. We are electing a fucking problem-solver. I don't really care if my President rescues kittens in burlap from the river if I am being legislated and taxed out of existence by the same guy.

     Second, there will be a lot of "what is your plan" for this?? and "what is your plan" for that??

     Listen: do any of these fucking assholes have a plan for anything? Cuz if they do, so far they are all pretty shitty ones.

     And another thing: let's say you have an opinion on something that everybody disagrees with. So what? It doesn't mean your opinion is going to become the fucking law of the land. It's just an opinion! So give your opinions on things. They're just opinions. That's why Presidents have advisors.


     And another thing: do any of these muttonheads you will be "going up against".....do any of them have any kind of fucking work ethic? No. They sit around and dream up new ways to handcuff everyone while forcing open their pocketbooks and safe deposit boxes with crowbars. You will be "going up against" lifer "public servants" who could not get an order of fries out of a fry basket without scalding half the neighborhood. 

     To continue; none of these bloviating motherfuckers speak normal English. They speak vague, drifting language that only journalists can make any sense out of because both groups, politicians and journalists, live in some quaisi-religious mystical universe where words are a kind of kabala of purple phraseology that deals with soothing emollients of vocabulary designed to relax and massage the listener into slumber and in some cases into an actual coma.

     Remember that your job in the "debates" is not to actually "win." These sideshows are the political version of the WWE - an outfit I totally admire and praise, by the way - but these debates are wrestling matches where the public is the loser, no matter who wins. Unlike the WWE where the public leaves the auditorium happy and delighted at a rollicking good show, these debates on the other hand are a borefest of emotional exhaustion which when they are over, only the candidates are the winners. Because even if one "loses" the debate, he does not lose his job. Whereas you want - I hope - to have all these assholes lose their jobs. You need to attack their work-ethic. They all know they can't get fired for years. They have no boss. They have some weird employment that guarantees them tenure no matter what they do make life miserable for millions of people. Usually the only way to get rid of them is for some journalist to discover they violated a fucking statute or pinched some hottie's ass. I mean this whole political universe is a fucking joke on the public.

     I seem to have gone off on a tear.

     Anyway, make it personal. Call them all lazy, preening peacocks and give us a good show.

     Thank you.  And God bless you.


Sincerely, 



J.J. Solari 

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