Whatever your view on the existence of a deity, the supernatural, or miracles, I think we can all agree that Donald Trump is the devil. How about we focus on him and his mustering horde of hellions? Well, them and the soulless brigade of GOP sycophants who are trying to Single White Female their way into the hearts of MAGAs everywhere.
As for why we’re here, where we came from, what our purpose is, and who—if anyone—is really in control, I have no clue. And neither do you. Nor does anyone else, for that matter.
I know that’s not a satisfying answer. I could say I know for a fact that God exists, His name is Karen, and He gets really upset when people use His name as a meme, but that’s an exhausting, unproductive essay for another day.
Over the years, as I’ve grown wiser and come to look increasingly like Jack Klugman’s scrotum, I’ve decided the things I know for certain—including where Rite Aid stocks the facial moisturizer—are few and far between. For all I know we’re in an elaborate video game, and the reason everything’s been so weird lately is that the dude who’s playing it is getting bored and is starting to use the cheat codes.
Which is simply to say, let’s all try to refocus on the big secular issues, like saving this country from creeping fascism. We can forget about the Big Issue for now. No one’s ever going to solve that one.
Also—and I doubt any progressives really need to be reminded of this—we should all agree that religion and government do not mix. Because when they do spawn, their kids always end up looking like Ted Cruz.
Enough said.
Everybody is a wonderin' what and where they all came from
Everybody is a worryin' 'bout where
They're gonna go when the whole thing's done
But no one knows for certain and so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Some say once you're gone you're gone forever
And some say you're gonna come back
Some say you rest in the arms of
the savior if in sinful ways you lack
Some say that they're comin' back in a
garden, bunch of carrots and little sweet peas
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Everybody is a wonderin' what and where they all came from
Everybody is a worryin' 'bout where
They're gonna go when the whole thing's done
But no one knows for certain and so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Some say they're goin' to a place called
Glory and I ain't saying it ain't a fact
But I've heard that I'm on the road to
purgatory and I don't like the sound of that
Well, I believe in love and I live my life accordingly
But I choose to let the mystery be
Everybody is a wonderin' what and where they all came from
Everybody is a worryin' 'bout where
They're gonna go when the whole thing's done
But no one knows for certain and so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Also, if you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.
Check out Aldous J. Pennyfarthing’s four-volume Trump-trashing compendium, including the finale, Goodbye, Asshat: 101 Farewell Letters to Donald Trump, at this link. Or, if you prefer a test drive, you can download the epilogue to Goodbye, Asshat for the low, low price of FREE.