Author Richard Cahill's Website--Living By Our Motto:"There Are No Stupid Questions, Just Stupid People Asking Questions Everybody else already knows the answer to."

​Following President Trump’s well-received posthumous tribute, and there probably has never been a more well-received posthumous tribute, to Colin Powell upon the ex-Secretary of State’s death, Save America, the President’s personal swag shop, is offering you a chance to have your obituary written by the President.
 ​
For $158, President Trump will compose an amazing tribute to you, which will be printed upon your death. Where else, for this one-time donation, can you get an obituary that will mostly be about another person? Or one that prominently features your political misjudgments and financial issues?
 
Here’s a couple examples, one of a famous person and one of a dead deplorable. The famous person will get hers at no charge, of course, but you can get one just like it for only a $158 dollar donation to fight Joe Biden’s radical Marxist death agenda! Which you probably succumbed to!
 
STATEMENT BY DONALD J TRUMP, 45TH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
 
Heartwarming to note that Hillary Clinton, who made the politically fatal error of running against Donald Trump for the Presidency, be so applauded nationally by the lying Mainstream Media. Plaudits are flying through the air about her career as a First Lady, a Senator, a Secretary of State, and the first woman nominated for the Presidency by a major political party. Yeah, and her charity work with Monica Lewinski’s boyfriend in countries nobody’s ever heard of, blah, blah, blah. Barely a mention is made of her being a LOSER! To me, in 2016! OR HER EMAILS! She had halitosis, too, which I first noticed when I was winning the 2016 Presidential debates against her. She’s drawn her last bad breath now! Rest in your loser coffin!
 
STATEMENT BY DONALD J TRUMP, 45TH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
 
It just gratifies me to see that Carl Mudchopp is being honored so beautifully by his fellow citizens in Boone, Arkansas. I’m sure the citizens of Boone, which gave me 79% of their votes in 2020, are being magnanimous in their sorrow over Joe’s death, despite him hitting that school bus in ’17 when he was really bad into the oxy. And when my campaign ‘accidentally’ turned his one-time contribution of $400 into a monthly donation from his credit card, eventually resulting in his credit score being lower than Pete Rose’s lifetime batting average, he never complained! You did let your second cousin in Little Rock vote for Biden, though, Carl, so you weren’t perfect! Who is? (Hint—his initials are DJT!) Sorry the Covid got you, Carl.
 
This kind of honor in death, which is perfect for anybody, can be yours for just $158, which President Trump will use to fight radical Democrats and possibly the odd lawsuit here and there. Just send in the money with your name, how many times that you voted for President Trump and, if applicable, any video/selfies of yourself inside the Capitol on January 6th!

Christmas is in peril this year, and not from the eternal War on Christmas, which I always try to actively participate in, but which always seems to come up short of victory. Whatever cool pagan design Starbucks puts on their Xmas cups this year, however many people say “Happy Holidays” to perturbed Evangelicals, and whatever number of customers are disturbed that their mall features a non-Caucasian Santa, the danger to Christmas this year is far bigger than any of that. It’s existential.
 
The toy your kid wants is still sitting on a dock in China.
 
Your Uncle Joe realizes this is a problem. By next election, he knows you’ll have forgotten about Afghanistan. Covid-19 will have been banished, which means the economy will zip back. Gas prices will slip downwards, because they always do.
 
But if your kid doesn’t get the Magic Mixies Critter Cauldron or the Squishmallow Frog Prince* he or she wants this year because they’re all still stuffed into a container ship off of Long Beach, you’re going to remember that come election time, mostly because your kid will remind you of it every day until next Christmas.
 
This is a problem and, like a Democrat, Joe Biden is trying to solve it. He’d better, because Fox has already labeled the issue “Joe Biden’s supply chain,” as if Biden had spent his life managing the worldwide network of ships, ports, trucks and trains that gets stuff from the people who make it to the people who want it, before taking a little break from that to be President. Here’s a nice interview with an executive from Walmart, a behemoth corporation that pays minimum wage as often as it possibly can, blaming the “labor shortage” for our supply chain woes and calling for Biden to fix it by finding more people who want to work for $7.50 an hour.
 
Tucker Carlson, on the other hand, thinks that the supply chain problem exists because the Secretary of Transportation is gay.
 
Biden’s solution is a disgustingly Democratic one, meaning it addresses the problem and has an outside chance of working. He ordered every port to be open 24/7 and every stevedore and truck driver in the country work overtime so that Christmas can be delivered.

For me this means that the Amazon, UPS and Fed-Ex trucks that already ram ceaselessly around my sleepy suburban neighborhood, endangering my elderly neighbors out for their evening totters, will increase in both speed and number, soon in the dark, so that it won’t be safe to step off a curb until December 26.
 
But Joe knows what he’s doing. If people can’t go into credit card debt until next November so that their tykes’ faces glow under the Christmas tree, if they can’t throw lefts and rights at each other at Target on Black Friday, if Jeff Bezos can’t make enough extra billions in Christmas cash so he can launch all of us into space, why, it wouldn’t be Christmas at all.
 
And don’t try that birth-of-Christ, all-men-living-in-peace-and-brotherhood for one day a year, sleep-in-heavenly-peace crap on me. Christmas is about commerce, naked greed and transforming our kids into even bigger bottomless pits of needs and wants than they are the rest of the year. If you could magically remove all of the cash out of Christmas, hardly anybody would pay attention to it. It would be celebrated by a small minority of Americans, while the rest of us would barely be aware of its existence.
 
Shit, it would be Hanukkah.

*Real toys. Google them if you don't believe me.

Satan checked in with me the other day. It’s been much easier dealing with the Prince of Darkness since the pandemic. He used to appear to me in person, in a burst of soot and brimstone, which meant I had to vacuum and spray Febreze around the house before my Significant Other came home.
 
Now we just use Zoom. I can usually summon Satan just by drawing a pentagram in Paint, but talking to the Lord of All Evil wasn’t on my mind when Lucifer opened a chat window and began complaining.
 
Hey, what’s up with that? I asked. You can just burst onto my screen spontaneously? I wasn’t even watching porn.
 
“As long as your IP address is visible. Avast and Norton keep warning you about that, but you keep ignoring it. Got a lot more hackers down here since the Covid got started. A lot more of everyone else, too.”
 
That’s good. I’m glad business is good.
 
“It presents problems. You keep adding room temperature souls to the Fiery Pit, you have to keep turning up the thermostat. My energy costs are through the roof.”
 
Wait…you have to pay your own heating bill?
 
“I made a deal with Putin to lay down a gas line here. Here’s a tip for you—never sign a contract with that prick. I keep telling him, Vlad, you’re going to end up here, and I've got every screenwriter who ever went to Hell, which is most of them, working on creative ways to roast you for all eternity. How about you give me a little discount? He just laughs and tacks on another couple euros a cubic foot. I pay it, because I’ve got souls to burn.”
 
So, all the anti-vaxxers—they go to eternal torment when they die of Covid?
 
“Oh, hell no. Not the really stupid ones. The Other Guy is stuck with them. Marjorie Taylor-Greene ain’t ever gonna darken the door of Eternal Darkness. I have standards. God doesn’t mind the dumb ones so much. ‘I created them. I forget why, though. Nowadays, I just give them a harp and tell them to sing Rock of Ages for a few thousand years. Then I shut the door on them and go back to the bar.’ That’s a direct quote, from my Eternal Nemesis.”
 
Been meaning to ask—is there a bar at your place?
 
“Only for my imps. Sorry, dude. And they spend too much time there, instead of flaying the souls of the damned like they should be. Ever since they got that union…well, we’ve talked about that before. But they’ve got a contract, and when souls show up that especially need filleting, they have to be on it.”
 
So, all those right-wing radio guys that told their audiences not to get vaxxed and then died of the covid themselves…
 
“Getting sodomized with glowing iron augers right now. And some of the smaller imps dress up as the dwarves from Snow White while we’re doing it and sing, Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It’s Up Your…”
 
I can fill in the blanks.
 
“The higher their ratings went when they spread bullshit, the deeper we go. But it’s more than just them. Everybody that sent someone a link to Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. or where to buy ivermectin online, they’re coming here, too.”
 
What about people like Joe Rogan, who pretend to be giving out objective information but in reality are just shitting on science?
 
“You’re going to love this one for Joe. Chained by hot iron links in an eternal unnatural sex position with Rush Limbaugh.”
 
But Rush is already there, isn’t he?
 
“Yeah, but Rush’s getting tired of being chained to Herman Cain. Guy’s a fucking racist, if you ask me.”

​Used to be, if you wanted to watch a good fight, with plenty of yelling and an occasional punch being thrown, your best bet was to go a dive bar called Floyd’s, or Rick’s Place, or the Dewdrop Inn. About 12:30 am on a Friday or Saturday night at one of these establishments, and there’s at least one in every town, there was a good chance that a rumble would erupt over a game of pool, or the quality of the high school football team, or maybe your slightly amorous aunt visiting from Kentucky, and somebody’s nose would get bloodied and the furniture get a little more broken up than it already was.
 
That didn’t always happen, natch. Many a weekend night at Big Al’s would tick away in a drunken stupor, with no violence being offered.
 
But America is always improving itself, and now brawls are regularly scheduled and funded by the state. I’m talking about school board meetings, and how some people are violently objecting to educated people running the educational system.
 
Why are these people pepper-spraying the principal? In theory, Americans want their kids to be better off than they are. A guy who’s worked thirty years in a lumber mill and only has eight fingers left wants his kids to go to college and get an office job. Conversely, though, he doesn’t their education to make them any smarter than he is.
 
He especially doesn’t want them to be “ashamed of being white.” These are kids we’re talking about here. Kids are ashamed of lots of things, but being white is way down on the list. They’re ashamed of their bodies, their clothes, their position on their school’s popularity depth chart, and of still taking the bus to high school after they’re old enough to drive. Hell, they are probably way more ashamed of their Eight-Fingered-Dad than they are of their Caucasian heritage.
 
Dad and Mom are in an uproar, though, because Tucker Carlson is telling them that critical race theory, which is actually only taught in college and graduate schools, is being spoon-fed to preschoolers right after they wake up from naptime. They’re out in the parking lot, slashing school board member’s tires out of fear that somehow, someway, their kids will find out that some white people did not always behave perfectly nicely to black and brown people in the nation’s past.

​If that school board member is black, the irony is totally lost on them. Trust me on this.
 
The lazy haters just send educators vivid death threats on social media and by email.
 
The problem has become so pervasive that the US Attorney General has launched an investigation. No less a Republican than Mitch McConnell has objected to this. Republicans in general hate it when Democrats try to solve a problem, but Mitch is usually too busy stuffing his pockets with donor money and torpedoing his old pal Joe Biden’s Presidency to chime in on the culture wars. He sees an opportunity here, though, to gin up the base against their perceived enemies, people who got A’s in high school and black people, who, with all the white people running around being ashamed, would probably make even more rap music.
 
A guy running for governor of Virginia put it even more bluntly. "If parents don't have a say-so in terms of their kid's education, then who does?" he Tweeted, putting himself firmly on the side of parents so concerned about their kids’ education that they bring bear spray to school board meetings and threaten to use it to make sure their kids don’t learn anything they don’t like, only things that they do.
 
Bye, bye, slavery. Hello, Q-Anon.

​New Hampshire State Representative Ken Wyler proved once again this week that it is possible, even likely, that one can achieve a position of prominence in middle-level state politics and yet qualify for a diagnosis of mental illness or, at the least, severe cognitive disability.
 
The Representative treated the rest of his colleagues on the New Hampshire House Fiscal Committee to a document titled "Vaccine Death Report" that linked Covid vaccines to 5G, Satan, a shadowy individual that really runs the Catholic Church on its “Luciferian” mission called the Grey Pope, and claimed that a microscopic study of the Moderna and the J&J vaccines revealed that they were “full of little tentacled creatures that seemed to be self-aware.”
 
Most of these revelations don’t affect me. 5G, in my understanding, is just a way of reviewing sludge on the Internet even faster than you can now, and keeping the cat videos you love on Facebook from  buffering up on you right when they reach their apogee of cute.
 
I don’t have much to do with any color of Pope, let alone a grey one. The Catholic Church may indeed be a tool of Satan, but if that’s the case, Satan loves pudgy little altar boys with flawless white skin, because that’s who they keep finding archbishops naked with.
 
Those little tentacled creatures have me worried, though, for I am full of Moderna. Sometimes I think I feel them grabbing my insides, but that could be a side effect of the hot sauce I regularly load on my taquitos in such quantities that I might as well just be hitting them up with bear spray.
 
Otherwise, I seem to be unaffected. I don’t find myself doing stuff that's much different than what I did before I was vaccinated. I don’t drink light beer, for example, and I haven’t found myself coming out of an amnesiac spell waiting in the line at a 7-11 with a 30-pack of Busch Natural Light in each hand. I don’t eat Pop Tarts, Hot Pockets or at Applebee’s, things I expect I would be doing if I was being mind-controlled by the Grey Pope.
 
I email Bill Gates, asking him if he knows where I am. He always answers “Drinking again,” which is technically true, but nobody who knows me needs to put a chip in me to figure that out.
 
Of course, I could be whistling past the graveyard. Someday, the tentacled monsters could seize control of my will and I could find myself marching in the United Nations Army, Transgendered Restroom Division, helping to pull the plug on the US as we know it.
 
What makes it worse is that my Significant Other is also vaccinated. She’s a J&J woman, so she would be subject to the will of the Grey Pope as well, which would really piss her off, because she’s Jewish.
 
In the meantime, I work with it. The next time we have a disagreement, I plan to say to her, “You don’t mean that. That’s the little tentacled creatures in you talking.”
 
Might work. It also might have me sleeping in the garage before the weekend’s over.

Former President Donald Trump lauded himself for the way he served religious communities in the U.S. during his time in office.
"Nobody has done more for Christianity or for evangelicals—or for religion itself—than I have, [doing] so many different things," he said during a phone interview--News Item
 
This is the sort of fatuous, self-congratulatory, only vaguely comprehensible spouting we have come to expect from Trump, both in-office and out. The run-on sentence, laudatory only to himself, is Trump’s special form of communication. It’s as sure a thing as his next cheeseburger fart.
 
Of course, many people have done more for religion that Trump—the Crusaders, the Saracens, the Conquistadores, just to name three of hundreds—all people who raised swords and hooves in the name of their faiths, stomping unbeliever hiney all over four continents. What has Trump done that compared to conquering people, enslaving them and then forcing them to build temples to your God? Having a religious adviser who looks good in a short skirt is not even close to being the same as wiping pagan blood off your blade after a hard day of spreading the faith.
 
Trump didn’t promote all faiths equally, either. Ask the Muslims. Or the Hindus, whom Stephen Miller tried valiantly to deny visas to, in the name of whiteness. No, Trump only promoted Evangelical America, God’s army with guns, bake sales and diabetes carts.
 
Now even they are turning on him. Frank Amedia, who served as a Christian liaison to Trump during his 2016 campaign and was the architect of the “Prayer Shield” that allegedly protected Trump at his Inauguration, has publicly said that God is sick of Trump.
 
Amedia runs “Touch Heaven” Ministries, and apparently, the last time he was in touch with Heaven, God told the minister that He was through with Trump. The next time Trump asks God for anything, if he ever does, God is going to tell the Ex to blow it out his ass.
 
Okay, Amedia didn’t say that. What he said was "A lot of the things that God had given him to do he fulfilled as a checklist. But here's the key: Who got the glory? And who was he taking the glory to? Was he thanking God for it publicly? Was he pointing to God for it?" Amedia continued. The pastor said that everyone had grown "tired" of Trump's tweets and "him talking about himself."
 
Trump talks about himself way more than God does. God barely mentions Himself at all, but when He does, He tends to go on about being "The Kingdom, the Power, the Glory,” etc., etc., to wearying effect.
 
This is the sort of thing Trump, who, you recall, once proclaimed himself “the chosen one,” would probably like to say about himself, and can barely keep from doing so. For four years he took credit for everything good that happened in the country, and accepted no blame for anything bad.
 
Of course, God’s been doing the same thing to all of humanity since his burning bush days. He’s been gaslighting us since before there was gas, or lights. No wonder he’s sick of Trump.
 
Fucker’s been stepping on His act.

As a nonbeliever, I feel confident that there will be no pain for me in the afterlife. In several columns here, I have expressed novel beliefs about eternal life for atheists, such as All Atheists Go to Heaven and Why God Loves Atheists. But, like all theologians, I make up divine principles right in my head, according to what I find convenient to believe. Research has nothing to do with it.
 
So, I could be wrong. I could end up in Hell, for the sin of finding blasphemy extremely amusing. This is not among the listed sins, at least in any list I’ve read, but I’ve been assured by religious people that it is, and I’m going to Hell for it. There have been a couple of other sins I’ve committed along the way, too.
 
I’ve always assumed I would end up in the nice Catholic Hell that was promised me by the nuns that slapped me around in grammar school. The best feature of Catholic Hell was ease of entrance. Chewing gum before taking Communion was a one-way ticket there, and skipping Mass on one of the Church’s innumerable Holy Days of Obligation got you a front-row seat, too.
 
So, there you would be, Mr. Little Gum Chewer, right where you belonged, getting tortured eternally with all the liars, cheats, serial rapists and mass murderers. Even before you learned to masturbate, which assured you of your place in the Fiery Pit, you could get what you deserved, suffering without end.
 
The nuns were not specific about the torments of Hell per se. It was hot, of course, and random slashings by Satan’s imps were common.
 
As a Catholic, you could always luck out and go to Purgatory. Purgatory was hard to get into, as the category of sin, venial, that put you there was pretty mild. Lying to your mom about having made your bed could put you in Purgatory, for example. The place had all the torture features of Hell, but your sentence there was only temporary. The best thing about Purgatory was that your mom was probably going to end up there, too, and you could get the bed-making thing straightened out with her between scaldings by hot lava.
 
But what if Mohammed really was God’s messenger, instead of just a horny bastard who hated booze and wanted a batch of teenage wives? I could end up in Muslim Hell. Muslim Hell has seven layers, kind of like a burrito offering by Taco Bell, and there’s plenty of El Scorcho Sauce in every one. The only redeeming feature of Muslim Hell is that you are surrounded by bad Muslims, which is way more fun than being surrounded by good Muslims. Ask anybody in Kabul, if you don’t believe me.
​
Jews are kind of half-assed about Hell. You don’t have to believe in eternal life or eternal torture to call yourself a Jew. You can believe in Hell if you want to, but it is a merely a Hell of teeth-gritting inconveniences, like being seated at a table by the kitchen in a restaurant. Instead of a menu, you have a list of all the shitty things you did in life that you ought to be ashamed of. You have to read it, over and over. The good news is that Hell for Jews is only temporary. Eventually they are released and go to Jewish Heaven, which they call “the world to come.”
 
My girl and her daughter, who are both Jewish, were discussing the World to Come the other day and, me being in the room, the subject of whether atheists would be admitted there came up, and her daughter had a swift answer.
 
“Of course,” she said. “Because, as soon as they get there, they’re no longer atheists.”
 
Works for me.

​Tucker Carlson, highly-rated sputterer of senselessness, burst onto the nighttime cable waves last week with a major scoop about the US military covid vaccine mandate, claiming it was an effort by Joe Biden to weed “Christians and men with high testosterone” out of the US military.
 
Why Christians are particularly eager to get their numbers thinned by Covid is left to the imagination. Men with high testosterone are presumably ready to go to the mat with the virus at any time, sneering at death and being intubated on a respirator like any manly man should.
 
Carlson also claimed that the vaccine mandate was designed to weed out disobedient soldiers, although the military usually promotes the virtue of obedience, particularly in the arena of obeying orders, and one of the standing orders in the military is that its members take almost every vaccine ever formulated, including ones that aren’t even recommended for regular Americans unless they book a cruise up the most microbe-infested tributary of the Amazon.
 
Whether it’s taking a vaccine or a machine gun nest, the US military expects you to do what you’re told.
 
It is odd that Tucker should go on this rage-bender about testosterone, since even his biggest fans would hardly consider him a fount of male hormones. Nobody looks at Tucker, a downy-faced 50-something year old and says to themselves, “That dude is a walking test-fest. I would probably get a contact boner just by touching him.”
 
In fact, Tucker was recently accosted in a public by a man who identified him as “the worst human being in the world.” Tucker did not inflict a beat-down on his critic on the spot, as would any guy with an above-average amount of t coursing through his red-blooded American arteries would. He backed meekly away.
 
I mean, almost anybody who regularly appears on Fox looks like they could kick Tucker’s ass. Hannity, certainly. He’d stand a better chance with Laura Ingraham, but my money is still on Laura. Ann Coulter? Tucker would breathe his last underneath her sharpened hooves.
 
Geraldo? Ok, maybe he could take Geraldo.
 
There are certain people that belong on the high-testosterone pantheon on which Tucker longs to be placed himself. Hulk Hogan. Dwayne Johnson, although the Rock seems pretty affable for a guy who loses more testosterone when he clips his fingernails that Carlson will ever have in his whole life. Or UFC fighter Conor McGregor, who is so whopping full of testosterone that he has never said anything that didn’t get him in trouble in his entire career.
 
Hmmm…maybe I’m missing the point about Tucker.

What’s coming out about the final days of the Trump circus reveals that Mike Pence, far from being the stern Constitutional defender that he will no doubt portray himself as when he makes his own laughable run for the White House in ’24, actively consulted with people who were aware that one of Trump’s lawyers had a six-point plan for him to throw a pipe wrench into the gears of election 2020.
 
The plan was for Pence to refuse to certify the electoral votes of six states, thereby making Trump the winner in the Electoral College. When the Democrats howled at that like they were getting their skins scraped off by rusty Brillo pads, Pence would shrug and pass off the problem to the House of Representatives. The House would conduct a vote based on state delegations, which the Republicans control 26-24, and Trump would have been re-elected.
 
The trouble with this rather breathless analysis was that one of those Republican state delegations was, and is, entirely controlled by one person, and that state is Wyoming, and that person is Liz Cheney, who, despite having inherited her dad’s opinion that the only way to achieve world peace is to keep paying Blackwater to kill brown people, is the Republican most utterly and publicly sick of Trump’s bullshit. The House would have tied 25-25, and no President would have been elected.
 
Come last January 20th, there would have been three people who could claim to be President—Biden, the guy people voted for, Nancy Pelosi, who automatically became Madam President on that date when nobody else was elected by the House, and Trump, who would continue to squat in the White House despite having no legal claim to be there, because of course he would.
 
When the Republican mobs hit the streets, they would have been met by Democratic mobs. Oath Keepers vs. Antifa would have happened every day. The US military would have been split down the middle. By the time the Supreme Court ruled in favor of President Pelosi and awarded her the nuclear football, Putin would probably have reinstituted Russian control over most of Eastern Europe, and would get a congratulatory call for that from Trump, still holed up in the West Wing, now guarded by Proud Boys instead of the Secret Service.
 
Nobody would have gotten America vaccinated, and when the Delta variant showed up it would have swept through the entire nation, instead of just weeding out fat people with GED’s who get their science from YouTube.
 
In desperation, California, along with many other states, would have seceded from the Union just so they could buy vaccines from Israel, and Gavin Newsom, the Acting President of the United States of the West Coast, would announce a mutual defense treaty with the United States of the East Coast, to try and forestall an invasion from Texas and Florida aimed at preserving the rights of Americans to breathe on other Americans. The Mask War would have begun at the California and New Jersey state lines.
 
But Pence consulted with former VP Dan Quayle first because, apparently, he felt that you ought to talk to a senior advisor before pissing on the Constitution like it was a bush in the back yard of your frat house. Quayle, who was probably not the first Vice President to make a spelling error but the first to be famous for it, and whose phone number has been forgotten by everybody except Mike Pence, could have said, “Go ahead, Mike, I’m tired of being remembered as the dumbest Vice President in history, anyway.”
 
Instead, Quayle said, “Jesus, Mike, did that fly eat most of your brain? No fucking way. Just sit down, shut up, count the votes and call a moving van.”
 
So now, the biggest problem we have today is a few extra Haitians.
 
Thanks, Dan.

The big demonstration in support of the numbnuts jailed for invading the Capitol last January 6th totally dudded out over the weekend. Even Steve Bannon and Trump Jr. wouldn’t have anything to do with it, not to mention elected squawkers like M. T. Greene and Andy Biggs.
 
The rioters stayed incarcerated, and the nation shrugged. The big question in the minds of the fringe right is why all these alleged patriots are still in the clink while all those elusive antifas are running free after rioting all last summer in the name of racial injustice? All those MAGATS are dying to do the False Equivalence Foxtrot over the January 6th insurrection and any or all destruction caused by the George Floyd protesters.
 
Now, tossing a piece of cinderblock through the window of a sporting goods store in Wisconsin is reprehensible, to be sure, but attempting to overturn election results by trying to hang elected officials is really a much more serious threat to democracy.
 
That is not the point, say Republicans, but, really, it is. Antifas get away with rioting because they don’t video themselves doing it. Their sneaky, black-clad asses work at night, amid the dim glow of burning hardware stores. They have a brick in one hand and a leaf-blower to direct pepper spray away from themselves in the other. Their iPhones remain tucked away and turned off, so Siri won’t rat out their positions.
 
Not so the Trumpers. Be they Proud Keepers, Oath Boys, or Some Percenters, they just can’t try to overthrow the Deep State without taking selfies. The FBI had so much video of painted goofs attempting to stab the Capitol Police with flagpoles that it took them months to go through it. Posting “Shoot Pelosi in the head” on social media is evidence, no matter how many smiley faces you put after it, although in their upcoming trials, I can see the defendants arguing that any seditious sentiment should be regarded as a joke if it's followed by a laughing emoticon.
 
Or two, or three. The point at which you’ve put enough smileys after your death threat to avoid prison will no doubt be decided by the courts.
 
In the meantime, the Capitol defendants rot in jail, while the merry band of anitifas do whatever they do in their spare time, probably drugs, getting their parents to pay their utility bills and touching themselves while looking at images of Alexandria Ocasio Cortez. They know that, unless they start carrying flags and wearing horned headgear to their next riot, they only have fuzzy anonymous images of their crimes on shitty security cameras to worry about.
 
We don’t know when the antifas will rise up again, but there may well be another Capitol riot, if Trump runs again and loses again, which he will. Joe Biden is slobbering for a chance at a rematch is the bet here. And when Trump has a rally and convinces the attendees that the ten million votes he’ll lose by next time are all fake, he’ll no doubt be able to urge them to march to the Capitol to try to hang Kamala Harris.
 
The Republic of Stupid will once again arise, carrying a Gadsden flag in one hand, and a smartphone in the other.
 
I expect the same result.