Posts Tagged ‘Scat

20
Jan
17

I’LL BE BACK

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I was changing my youngest child’s shit filled diaper this morning when I suddenly started thinking about Donald Trump. It’s his inauguration day. He’s the President now. He’s in charge. He’s in the captain’s chair. That mail order bride he married is First Lady.

But then again I thought “Eh, fuck him.” And why not? That’s what he thinks of me. And you. And the guy next door dying of Gulf War Syndrome (who probably voted for him). And the unemployed drunk down the road who used to work at the mill (who probably voted for him). And the morbidly obese woman who never married and hates the gays (who probably voted for him). And that religious guy in the neighborhood everyone goes out of their way to avoid (who probably voted for him).

I started Magnus Greel shortly after Obama entered office. Eight years of Bush (not that one, the other one) didn’t drive me to blog. It took a President I actually liked and respected taking office for me to realize that the resistance doesn’t have the luxury of waiting until the bad guys take over. Sooner or later the bad guys always take over. And sooner or later the bad guys either fuck up or are defeated. If the resistance doesn’t have their shit together then other bad guys take over.

Those of you who have followed this site know I have done this many times over the years. Those of you who haven’t, well, pay closer fucking attention. You’re not doing anything important.

“My fellow Americans. How does it feel? How does it feel to finally have the yoke of ultimate oppression removed from your necks? It’s over. I’m done. The scary black man is out of office. I know all you white folks out there are happy. Not normal white folks. Special white folks. Those other white folks that the normal white folks don’t like associating with.

For eight years I put up with your shit. Paul Ryan. Mitch McConnell. John Beener. Or Boner. Whatever. Who fucking cares. Nothing but “Nazi” this and “Soviet” that. Funny that the guy you just elected is both of those fucking things. Anyone see his birth certificate? No. No, you never even fucking asked. He’s rich and he’s white so, gee, he must be from ‘Merica. For all you know he could be from fucking South Africa. And yes, there are white people from South Africa. Not that the special white people in America would know that. You’ve never looked at a map. Or read a book. Or seen an opioid you didn’t crush and snort like there’s no tomorrow.

I like how the special white people in America think that the jobs should come to them. For everyone else in the history of the world, normal white people included, one had to go where the work was. But not you. You’re special. Not sure why. But what the hell. I’ll go with it. Let’s imagine a world that revolves around you.

I see a fucking McDonald’s on every corner. Check cashing places and payday advance outfits. I see repo men and debt collectors having a grand old time taking back that American made truck that no longer works. Yeah. Welcome to your brave new world. I see Twinkies for your kids at lunch. At home. Not at school. Ha ha ha ha! There’s no fucking school lunches. Everyone is on their own. Hooray. Don’t tread on me. And when you get sick, because you eat like shit and don’t exercise, I see you blaming liberal ideas like universal healthcare. And when your children grow up functionally retarded because they’ve been taught that the Earth is only 6,000 years old, that gravity isn’t real and that space travel makes Jesus angry… well, you probably won’t even notice. Because special white people don’t change. They just keep on reproducing. Like roaches.

Well, I hate to shatter this wonderful dream of diabetes and foreclosure. But, I’m not going anywhere. And there isn’t shit you can do about it. I’m not in office anymore. I don’t need your vote anymore. I don’t need your approval. I don’t even need you to like me. I just need you to understand that you don’t live in the country you think you live in. And every time you turn on the TV, which you do like it’s a bodily function, there I’ll be. Smiling at you. Waving at you. Giving you the goddamned finger.

You never got me down, folks. You never got me down.”