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The Fourth Trump of July vs His Leftist Critics

by Vanderleun on July 5, 2019

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As somebody remarked this morning, “Trump’s got the Left and the Democrats to come out against the 4th of July. Political genius.”

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Richard July 6, 2019, 7:03 AM

I guessing it’s wrong to imagine the automobile in the video as being the clown car of DNC would-be presidential candidates, no?

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John the River July 6, 2019, 7:10 AM

the clown car of DNC would-be presidential candidates…

Train the way you are going to fight.

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Michael Marinacci July 6, 2019, 9:35 AM

https://youtu.be/k43z8_JjtR0

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Sam L. July 6, 2019, 11:18 AM

Got the Left to show their real faces, not the artificial ones.

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Sam L. July 6, 2019, 11:23 AM

About Amazon: Alexa is your own personal Stasi agent whose
salary YOU pay.

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Millie Woods July 6, 2019, 1:01 PM

Good Lord. I thought it would push the car out of the way.

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mary July 6, 2019, 1:15 PM

I love the chuckling and “Oh, shit.” by the observer.

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Marv July 6, 2019, 3:50 PM

Wow!!!!!!!!! I want a tank.That thing squashed that car like my Dodge pickup squashes a bug.

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Snakepit Kansas July 6, 2019, 5:04 PM

I thought the observer was a bit close for this experiment. Dude probably has multiple tours and a CIB so this was simple entertainment. Loved the giggling.

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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