As I struggle to find a reason to ever get out of bed
again, I ruminate upon the largest bet I’ve ever lost. Yeah, Trump’s upset cost
me $750; I’ve lost bigger poker pots, but never a single bet. The real loss
makes the even mention of money profane.
I’ve never been more wrong in my life; and, the world
literally burned around me. Controlled wildfires in the woods around
Chattanooga filled the air with smoke, irritating the lungs, with local
officials recommending people stay indoors. Then, Gatlinburg, Tennessee’s
vacation Mecca, burned to ashes.
The 2016 presidential election represents a previously
unfathomable betrayal. But worse, this loss is a death, more accurately a
national suicide, with Trump as the bullet exploding the country’s brain.
America is dead, it’s proud democracy a failure.
Voters and political pundits discounted Trump’s
rhetorical skill, refusing to acknowledge the 4th grade vocabulary
and gorilla speak of a schoolyard bully. But now, even the educators,
professional thinkers and talkers, must relearn a painful lesson: fear and rage
are often more powerful than logic and empathy.
People mocked Trump’s business acumen, listing a
litany of failed enterprises, scams, defaults, and bankruptcies: nearly a
billion dollar loss in a single year. They laughed at his vague assertion that
he “makes the best deals,” while he weaved his most sinister one before their
eyes: a 60 million vote con-job.
But, how would a gambler handle the national tragedy?
Double down…
Now, the glimmer of impeachment has begun, I may get
some money back. I put money on Trump not making it through his four years. I
get double if he doesn’t live through it. It’s the first time, to my recollection,
I have bet on someone’s death; and I’m certainly NOT cheering for anyone to
die, buuuuuttt I do stand to make a couple extra bucks. Fast food is not a good
diet, golf carts are not exercise, and Trump is past average life expectancy.
Tick, tock mother fucker.
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