…crazy, baby, like WOW, brother, like don’t f*ck with my ETERNAL NOW, sister, feeling the Bern and the rising tide, of the coming revolution and time on our side, blows against the empire and folks too proud to beg, quinoa muesli tofu granola and the gluten-free fertilized free-range yolk-free three-minute egg, man…
So Trump takes his lumps like he planned it that way all the time, but the Big News is that he lost; not that Cruz is any better, for those of us of liberal bent, badly bent but not yet broke, thank you. Cruz is an ignorant moron, too, of course, but he can be beaten (thank you, evangelicals!). The Big Scare for those of us with working cerebellums was that Trump would run the primaries and it (the Republican primaries) would all be over before it really even started, and we Dems would be left to our own best guesses and the vicissitudes of Fate to determine whether we’d live or die, and how and why…
But that won’t happen now, and by the time Trump’s lost two or three primaries, even if he’s won the same amount, he’ll likely give up, given the odds of losing, because if there’s one thing Trump’s not: it’s a loser; quitter maybe, but not loser. Narratives can always be adjusted and back-filled to mitigate any lack of initial logic, but defeat is hard to finesse and explain away. That, of course, depends on who the Democratic nominee is shaping up to be…
So why do we Democrats have this death wish that refuses to quit? Why do we insist on being the losers that Repubs portray us as? Call us idealists, call us starry-eyed optimists, call us die-hard revolutionaries, call us conscientious objectors, but mostly… call us for a good time: 867-5309. Okay, so let’s call it idealism. That’s a good narrative. (More …)
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