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THE REST of the world, apart from a small group of Trini weirdos, heaved an almighty sigh of relief on Tuesday night: at least now there won’t be two 70-year-old jackasses in high office in the US; but half the adult population of Alabama wept because there were not enough God-fearing Christians who would kiss their Bible and vote for a gun-toting, slavery-approving, Muslim-hating accused child molester, so that he could go to Washington and protect the millions of unborn children who will, apparently, continue to be murdered even before they become zygotes.
It’s an enigma of modern life, this Republican moving of heaven and earth to save the unborn but not giving a flying firetruck about babies, once they’re actually out of the womb: the same so-called right-to-lifers who bomb abortion clinics to save fertilized eggs will die to preserve capital punishment; and gather cheerfully outside of prisons on execution nights in the existential version of the football stadium tailgate party.
Most satisfying, though, was the comeuppance to President Jackass. Molester (alleged) Moore’s campaign was taken straight from the Jackass’ manual and the narrow rejection of Moore meant a massive rejection of Trump, comb-over, robocall and all.Read more
ALMOST A YEAR after it happened, I still can’t quite bring myself to believe the Americans actually elected the Jackass. It’s not so much that I can’t accept that people would so cavalierly dismiss President Obama’s devastatingly apt warning – that a man who can’t be trusted with a Twitter account shouldn’t have the firetrucking nuclear attack codes – although, of course, there is that.
No, the hard part of accepting that this idiot-savant-without-the-savant is in the Oval Office is that, every time I turn on the TV, he is on it, painstakingly underlining his palpable unsuitability for the post. (Come in, Keith Smith, your alliteration acolyte is in action.)Read more
OF COURSE, the genuine day-to-day horror of the Jackass in the White House turns Halloween, John Carpenter’s 1970s benchmark splatter film about the child-murderer, Michael Myers, into a sidesplitting comedy. Where Donald Pleasance and Jamie Lee Curtis only had to outwit and outrun a knife-wielding maniac for 91 minutes, the whole world has to endure this Twitter-wielding Donald Unpleasant for the next three years; where is a heart attack when you need one?
My own worst nightmare is that someone will assassinate Donald J-for-Jackass Trump and catapult a moron who doesn’t belong in the company of his immediate predecessor into the group that, if America got it right, would have their heads on Mount Rushmore: John F Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X and Bobby Kennedy, men assassinated for their bravery by cowards.Read more
BILL MAHER’s HBO show, Real Time, is the most crucial television in the world now. A funny guy, a jokester, a man who became rich and famous by being a total smartass, Bill Maher may be recognised, in the future, as the most serious person in America right now. He could carry the title of ‘the Conscience of the United States” but I prefer to think of him as the grain of sand in the oyster that might yet turn the American Left into a pearl. And Bill has had one thing going for him ever-since, as we say in Barbados.
Bill Maher has always known that Americans are stupid.
They are. This is not opinion, but fact.
Satire: The use of humour, irony, exaggeration or ridicule to expose and criticize people’s stupidity or vices.
ANYONE WHO thought that Donald Ciretrunt would somehow mysteriously ‘become more presidential’ if he won the election got the rudest possible awakening a week ago, when Ciretrunt deliberately placed both feet upon the corpse of an innocent woman, murdered by savages, to stand up for those fundamental American values of Nazism, anti-Semitism and white supremacy.
Ciretrunt snuffed out the American Dream with his support for a group he ought to have condemned; and he just about extinguished satire, too. How the firetruck do you exaggerate the occu-ciretrunt of the White House supporting Nazis?
There’s only one piece of satire left in America and here it is, presented in the vain hope that people who think of themselves as ‘good Christians’ can see the Devil if he is exposed in front of their eyes.