OK—I finally took the advice of my psychiatrist, and decided that I would not, absolutely not listen to the three-minute tape of Trump grabbing….
…oh, need I say it?
I don’t seriously mean it, but at times I wish that we could all just go back to the fifties. Granted, sleazebags would still be sleazebags—arguably worse than they are now, if that’s possible—but The New York Times would not use the word “pussy.” And so repressed were we all then, that a public figure would not have bragged about sexual assault to a reporter, even if he believed that the conversation was off-record.
So I didn’t listen to the Republican candidate for President, which is how I am now describing the D. And that’s with heavy emphasis on “Republican,” since really, the point has to be made. Henry Reid came out and said it best: Trump is the Republicans’ Frankenstein. But the message, apparently, was lost on Paul Ryan, from my state of Wisconsin. Ryan came out and “disinvited” or “uninvited”—both words have been used in the press—the Republican to Elkhorn, Wisconsin, last weekend. Instead, he allowed Pence to come, but Pence declined.
So the Republican had to stay home, while everybody had a wonderful time in Wisconsin, but that was probably for the best, since it gave him more time to polish up his debate, right? Oh, sorry—I forgot that the Republican doesn’t prepare for debates.
Of course not, since really all he needed was an extra shot of testosterone, because the order of the day was attack. So we got The New York Times analysis of the debate in its headline: Tawdry Charges and Character Attacks Fill Second Debate. And guess what?
That’s all I know about it, since I neither watched the debate or had the stomach to read about.
So today, since it is Día de la Raza, or Columbus Day, I decided that I could goof off. Therefore, I went to the beach, and used the occasion to walk down the Paseo that the governor opened yesterday. It cost 37 million dollars (or some such thing) and two years of work, during which the beach was inaccessible, except by a scorching, broken sidewalk. Now, we have a scorching, beautifully paved sidewalk. And it’s very true, as the advocates for the governor stated, that for every tree they removed to make the paseo, they planted three! Wonderful! The only problem being that the trees were looking a bit doleful, since even by 9 AM, the tropical sun was getting to them. In fact, it was getting to me, too, since I was similarly un-watered, and there was no water fountain in sight. So a very thirsty Marc walked past many very thirsty trees, but I had the fortune of at last getting to the beach. There, I was able to drink from the showers they had installed there.
So it was pleasant, that twenty minutes at the beach, during which I could look at blue sky and green palms, and not have to deal with the orange of the Republican. In fact, it was more than pleasant, since my shrink had also told me to go to the beach often: he honored this treatment with the moniker of “hydrotherapy.” So then I walked back home, and finished listening to Biber, the Missa Salisburgensis, which put me very well on the way to permanent bliss. In fact, so exalted was my mood, that discovering the twin facts that the power was off and that a cat had peed on a check for 2000$--well, that hardly seemed to matter!
So I went off to the café, and then sat down to face what had to be faced, which was the Republican threat to democracy—oh, sorry, the Republican candidate for president. Was I going to read about the debate? Of course not—why waste a three-mile walk and 90 minutes of Biber? But I did hear enough about it from Facebook to get a sense of it all. And then it turned out that speaker Paul Ryan, from my father’s hometown of Janesville, Wisconsin, had really unleashed the big guns!
Ryan, you see, is not going to defend the Republican.
That, of course, was news I had to read. And did it mean that Ryan was withdrawing his support for the Republican? Actually coming out and saying that the man whom the rank and file Republicans chose as the Republican—well, that guy was a charlatan at best, and a sexual predator at worst? As well as knowing nothing about anything but self-aggrandizement? Wow—Paul Ryan was coming out swinging!
Oh, wait—Paul Ryan is not withdrawing his support, but he will no longer defend the Republican.
OK—so I had to think about that for a moment, since it’s very clear: I don’t have the moral subtlety that Paul Ryan has. Which means that I had to wonder: if Ryan can’t defend the Republican, how can he support him? This is the most tepid of rejections, but apparently it is sufficient outrageous for The Times to write a new headline, half an hour after they had announced the ringing non-defense by Ryan of the Republican. Now, we are, told, there is “G.O.P Furor After Ryan Says He Won’t Defend Trump.”
Well, the mind was reeling, a bit, since I also had to ponder the senator from somewhere or another, who came out and said—brilliantly—that the Republican was a Democrat, eleven years ago, when he made the famous tape about grabbing…that. Did I dream that, or did she really say it? Or does it matter, since we are so far into the world of lunacy that it doesn’t much matter? Anyway, I think that’s what he or she said….
So now there are hard-core Republicans who are in a “furor” that Ryan has chosen not to defend the Republican. Right—so that’s interesting, since I wonder, what would the defense of the Republican sound like? Hmm—could these be it:
Republicans Agree: Groping Pussy Absolutely the Prerogative of Wealthy White Males!
Republicans Rise to Defense: All Women Secretly Want to….
No, sorry, I can’t even write it….
Anyway, Paul is now in hot water, and it certainly proves that by being completely namby-pamby, he has satisfied nobody. But at least now we know: there are, apparently, a number of people out there who are completely on board with the Republican, and his meandering-though-criminal hand. So are these people going to get together, and fight for the revision of the laws about rape / sexual assault? Because obviously that would be the next thing, right? I mean, God forbid that some errant woman, or perhaps one unaware of or unimpressed by the Republican’s star status, should get it into her uppity little head….
Thus are upright family men destroyed….
One does have to wonder, of course, how much of a star, or how much of a millionaire, one has to be, before getting the privilege of touching or indeed grabbing, well, down there. As the author of an insanely good, if completely unread, memoir—well, do I qualify? And what about Barack Obama, who has—and come on, we can all get on board with this, can’t we?—been a completely decent family man? And how much it must have cost him, coming home to the same wife, when he could have been out there, grabbing….
Oh, wait—I come home….
Anyway, surely now that Obama has behaved honorably for eight years, he absolutely gets the chance, now…
What did you say?