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Earth to Maniac No-Trumplings: Rethink Your Opinion of President Trump

by Vanderleun on October 6, 2017

Let’s compare what Trump has done to what Hillary could have done.

So much sanity here it is difficult to quantify.

Pass this on. This deserves millions of views.

HT: Commentator Abigail Adams.

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Comments on this entry are closed.

Howard Nelson October 6, 2017, 2:53 PM

Bravo! Essential truths, comprehensive presentation, easy to understand.
An American to the marrow!

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Leslie October 6, 2017, 5:08 PM

Clarity

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Mark October 8, 2017, 6:18 AM

It is so refreshing to hear the truth from a real American loving citizen! Keep telling it my friend and fellow patriot! God bless you and yours!

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MrJimm October 9, 2017, 6:32 PM

Good commentary, but it falls short in one very major way. Trump doesn’t plan out the logistics for a last-minute trip to Vegas, and neither would Hillary have to. He or she would simply call their chief-of-staff and say, I’m going to Vegas, and an army of advance men and secret service would be there as quickly as they could get there. And his or her schedule for the next day or two would be frantically rearranged by a team of secretaries.

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Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020

My Back Pages

Van der Leun: The Normblog Bio of Your Host

“From a student radical/hippie/leftist of the Free Speech Movement/Vietnam Day Commitee era and a full-on Democratic Liberal in the decades after, I think I’ve evolved a politics that is neither right nor left but is, in its elemental nature, draconian. In the last 20 years, I’ve taken apart my beliefs with a sledgehammer. Now I’ve got to put the surviving parts back together with tweezers and other ‘shabby equipment, always deteriorating’.”

A Wicker Basket

Comes the time when it’s later
and onto your table the headwaiter
puts the bill, and very soon after
rings out the sound of lively laughter—

Picking up change, hands like a walrus,
and a face like a barndoor’s,
and a head without any apparent size,
nothing but two eyes—

So that’s you, man,
or me. I make it as I can,
I pick up, I go
faster than they know—

Out the door, the street like a night,
any night, and no one in sight,
but then, well, there she is,
old friend Liz—

And she opens the door of her cadillac,
I step in back,
and we’re gone.
She turns me on—

There are very huge stars, man, in the sky,
and from somewhere very far off someone hands me a slice of apple pie,
with a gob of white, white ice cream on top of it,
and I eat it—

Slowly. And while certainly
they are laughing at me, and all around me is racket
of these cats not making it, I make it

in my wicker basket.

— BY ROBERT CREELEY