Different shirts, same assholes. They were fascists then and they’re fascists now.
Before I hit the kitchen, here are a couple of thoughts weighing on my mind.
You know, it’s a miracle I’m still around.
I think it’s widely acknowledged there’s a difference between sleeping dreams and napping dreams.
It would be entirely in character for Trump, in a fit of loser spite, to pull the trigger on the kind of white supremacist street violence we saw last night.
It drives me crazy how the media pussyfoots around Republican lies by reporting “no evidence of widespread fraud.” Why “widespread?” Why not “no fraud?”
A little local color before the Thanksgiving holiday, during which I plan to blog not a jot or tittle.
Lordy, it’s going to be hard to be gracious in victory and not return spite for spite, but I’ll try.