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?
What did you say?
Lynching?
