Now that the Cubs have won the World Series and Donald Trump is the next President of the U.S. and the world has ended, I want to take my time mulling over the meaning of this title and this essay. I have to think it over carefully, because, after all, with the new leadership we have selected for ourselves (at least the only people whose votes really matter have selected) I will probably end up in prison or executed. It doesn’t really matter how it all turns out for me. If the Great Orange Face With Tiny Hands does away with Obamacare after everything he’s recently said to the contrary, I am doomed anyway because any health care I am going to need in the next decade I won’t be able to afford anyway. Dying is the only option I will be able to pay for. So, if they execute me, they will even be saving me that expense.
I am not suggesting that Trump is like a Bond villain… Oh, wait! Yes I am. But unlike a Bond villain, when he talks about the evil he is going to do and how the hero is about to die an excruciatingly horrible death, he isn’t necessarily telling the truth, or even knows the truth. So we will not be able to pull an unlikely harrowing escape at the last second, because we won’t accurately know what to counter. He’ll tell us about the anti-Muslim piranhas in the water, but it will be the nuclear-proliferation lasers that will boil our heads off our torsos.
So, one of the most important factors behind why the bad guys win in real life while Bond villains always get their comeuppance by the end of the movie has to do with manipulating the story. Telling the tale the way they want it told, even if it is a Limburger-cheese-smelling stinky-bad lie.
This is only the first essay in a series of related essays I intend to write about the world situation as I see it. So there is the first bit of terrible news I have given you, independent of the bad news swirling around our brand new Cinnamon Hitler. I intend to inflict more things on you that you will probably not believe, but may give you a chuckle or two at how goofy and idiotic I can be as I try to explain the stinky-bad nature of reality in terms of my own paranoid delusions, hopes, and fears. I can’t help this criminal explaining-the-world thing I try to do in writing. You have to remember, I was once a middle school English teacher, which goes a long way towards explaining abnormal psychology in essay form.