Do yourself a favor and watch this campaign ad. You know you want to.
It’s all been said already. The GOP bill, TrumpDoesn’tCare, sucks. And frankly, I am unable to find the funny in the fact that the current leaders just sold us down the River Styx, on our way to hell.
I feel it personally, deeply. I honestly fear for the future of myself and everybody like me with a preexisting condition. Everybody with a chronic condition that requires expensive medicine. Mine costs $26K every six weeks. Over the 5 years of the “pool” the GOP added to the AHCA, I’ll use $1 million just by myself. Because of poop problems.
Folks keep telling me that I’m over-reacting, that this bill will never pass the Senate. And that’s true. But I have no faith that the Senate version will be much better, only different. After all, it is run by the folks who literally stole a supreme court seat. Does anybody really believe that these guys will do the right thing?
So clearly there is only one response that I have to Donald Trump and the House GOP.
If you hear about somebody doing this at the White House or on Capitol Hill, just pretend you don’t know me.
Feeling down in the mouth? Discouraged? Hopeless?
You’re not alone.
When I’m suffering with something-or-other, it really helps to know that I’m not alone. Since November 9, 2016, there’s been a veritable epidemic of misery sweeping the nation. Relax, though. Because your misery now has a name, an actual diagnosis:
We’re all suffering from PESD. Although frankly, I don’t know why they needed a new diagnosis. Because if the election of Donald Trump doesn’t represent a traumatic event, I don’t know what does.
The only treatment is action.
Tomorrow will be a day of mourning for many of us, as we head into who knows what is to come.
It is time for the peaceful opposition to start in earnest.
There will be protests and marches to join, petitions to sign, letters to write and calls to make. We must keep it up.
But here is one of my favorite tactics —
It’s not enough to not watch the inauguration.
You must actively turn on your TV to something else.*
Me, I plan to turn mine on to Comedy Central, home of oh so many left wing folks.
[You can also set your DVR to another channel, but the way ratings work, you must watch the recording the same day or the ratings are shown for the day you watch, rather than the day you record. ]
Of course, this is not all I plan to do as one member of the Loyal Opposition. It isn’t all I will suggest/bug/pester you into doing over the years, either.
But it is going to be hard to do anything else on January 20, 2017 through the tears we’ll all be shedding.
For those of you planning to attend the Women’s March in Washington, DC on Saturday, January 21, here is some important information for you:
For those of you who want some ideas of how to help, or need to get some comfort from the fact that there ARE and WILL BE things to do, here’s some ideas.
We’re all gonna be busy.
* Thanks to Karen for the idea.
Sometimes a metaphor actually plops into your lap. Or your hands. Or into someplace you hope you don’t drop your cell phone.
That happened to me today, when I read an article in the Huffington Post about one of the, ahem, priorities, of the folks setting up Friday’s Inauguration of Donald J. Trump. And really, it is a metaphor for what is to come.
You see, whenever there is a big event here in the DC area, there’s a lot of shit going on. Literally. Lots of people = lots of pee and poop! So port-a-potties line the Mall, surround the Monuments; and ring the Capitol itself. And in the DC area, one company has the scoop on poop.
But, according to the Huffington Post,
When I saw that headline, my first thought was, “Of course they are. They’re covering up all kinds of shit.” But this time they’re not covering up the shit, but the name.
Photo Credit: Michael Showalter for the NY Post
Of course folks are covering up Don’s shit. But it’s up to us to pull off the tape and show the world Don’s Johns. That will be our job for the duration of Trump’s presidency — whether that is for 2 weeks or 4 years. To pull off the tape on Don’s Johns. To expose every breach of law, each unethical behavior, all threats to the rule of law.
THAT is how we will survive Trump. Because you can’t paper over the truth for long.
If you were a news junkie during the George W. Bush era, you’re already experiencing deja vu. That sinking feeling already makes your eyes roll automatically when Putin’s President appears. It settled into the back of your neck from the whiplash as you shake your head and shout “no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” over the latest outrage or tweet. And it’s there in the pit of your stomach, when you try not to vomit whenever you see the color orange.
Yup, it’s started. The Deluge. The Flood. The Trump shit storm.
During the Bush years, I would just be ready to pounce on one issue, when another hit the fan and took the wind out of my sails. Resistance is hard if there is just so much to resist.
How, I worried in the days since November 8, will I survive Trump. I feared a heart attack. A stroke. Getting so scared I’d shit in my pants. Of course I worry about the last one sometimes during a scary movie.
Anyway, I’ve come up with a strategy for a hybrid Resister/Surviving Human. I’m going to become a political centaur!
I’m going to take my mother’s marital and parental advice and apply it to my activism. She said:
Me, I’m going to try to focus on issues I know about and/or that are closest to my heart. The ones I write about here on FiftyFourAndAHalf.
But that won’t be all I do. I will look for and follow the lead of others who are knowledgeable about other issues, and I will try to help to the extent I can. It’s not hard, really, to make calls to Congress and the White House. Really, it just takes a minute. You or I can even just cut and paste and hit “send.”
But I will try my very best to keep my blood pressure — and my outrage to livable levels.
George W. Bush kept us all off balance because there were so many things to be outraged about, that we couldn’t keep it up. Different bad presidents need different tactics.
And Trump will make the Dubya years look like a walk in the park. And that park is in Baghdad.
Today’s New York Times broke my heart by informing me (can you believe it? — A Newspaper!) that while the electors in the Electoral College will vote tomorrow (Monday, December 19), we won’t actually know the results until January 6. Shit.
I was wrong. I misunderstood. Perhaps I read the Russian rules.
Now back to my original post which is now completely irrelevant:
Still, I want to take just one more opportunity to beg:
Please don’t let Donald Trump actually become President of the United States. He’s cray-cray. And could you possibly imagine listening to that 6th grade speaking style for 4 years? Not to mention the fact that he’s already pissed off most of Asia.
Oh and there is that whole bit about Russia interfering with our election.
So please, please, vote carefully. Vote as if the future of the world is in your hands. Because it is.
2.8 Million (and counting) American Voters
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