Ever Thus to Dimwits

 

I’m lucky enough to have friends and a mother who suffer my theories, although I have no idea how gladly.

There’s the Lift-and-Separate Theory of technology.

The God-as-Deadbeat-Dad Theory of religion.

And, of course, the Great Race War Theory of politics: the hypothesis that racial tensions can be quantifiably measured — so, to some degree, predicted — by the racial makeup of the nation as compared to the racial makeup of the nation’s Top 500 executives. And you’ll get a rough (ever sliding) compass reading of our place on the Great Race War scale.

The good news: That theory is out the window.

The bad news: The Great Race War will start much simpler: with a quarter-inch bullet from a Trump supporter.

Trump made the suggestion as he does most: on Twitter and out his ass.
He offered, without proof, that the former president was personally responsible for bugging and trying trying to derail his campaign.

And with that, Trump’s lunatic base suddenly has a legitimate reason (in what substitutes as their eyes) to applaud assassinations.

Trump cast himself as a Jesus figure in the second presidential debate, offering to “take the arrows” from his opponent in a crusade to resurrect the nation. Does anyone doubt a zealot would sacrifice his life (and others) to protect the political Chosen One?

And there’s little evidence Trump would want to prevent one, even if he could. Consider the only two real acts he’s taken in the infancy of his presidency: a Muslim ban rand a $50 billion budget increase for the Defense Department, the nation’s largest police force. All we’d need is a shovel to entrench ourselves deeper.

The president is awfully fond of laying guilt at the feet of his anger; Remember his ‘Blame a federal judge if we suffer a terrorism attack?’

So be it, Mr. President. Take it from an old newsman who knows how a paper is laid on a doorstep.

Here’s the latest issue of Blame,Mr. President. Delivered to your door.