The GOP Convention: Red, White, And Moo

Letting the bull wreck the china shop.

(Image courtesy of Shutterstock.com)

We are living through a farce. What’s worse is that we are participating in it.

There is a bull in our china shop. Instead of lassoing the damn thing and pulling him out, we are all either screeching in alarm, cheering the bull, attempting to be impartial, or trying to cover up the mess.

Donald Trump is pure bull.

If only it were remotely funny. If you care about America, or even humanity in general, you’re well aware that having Donald Trump as president ceased being humorous long ago.

I’ll make one exception: Sarah Cooper is hilarious. I’ll give you that.

The rest of it, though, is just too awful.

It’s all come to a head tonight. On the day a Category 4 hurricane slammed into the Gulf Coast, and in the midst of a pandemic that’s killed at least 180,000 Americans, the GOP is having night four of its convention.

It’s nominating the bull. On the White House lawn. Without social distancing.

Why are we doing this? Why are we playing along with this ornery beast? Why are we pretending it’s in any way American?