Sunday, March 13, 2016
Donald Trump is NOT an actual politician. He's more of a semi-skilled carnival barker. A billionaire agitator at best. Not even fit to carry Vince McMahon's jock strap. However, he is well-suited for the ignorant populist faction of the Republican party. It's the ultimate irony for the conservative establishment chicken-hawk wing. If McDonald's pink slime could talk, it would surely say... I'm lovin it.
Let's face it. About 25% of his rallies consist of Trump heckling back at protesters. Another 25% is him bragging about his poll numbers and ridiculing the opposition. Mostly ad hominem taunts and corpulently-veiled threats. Another 25% is devoted to lofty rhetoric, i.e., Making America Great Again, I'm wealthy beyond your wildest dreams, our politicians have failed us (they're all stupid and worthless... unless they support me. Then, they're okay).
His policy positions are intentionally simplistic. That could be the understatement of the century.
Isis is a bunch of bad dudes. They're chopping off heads during Christmas. We need to torture them and take their oil.
Build the wall and make Mexico pay for it.
Gotta fix the trade imbalance with China.
Muslims should be banned from entering the country until we "can figure out what's going on."
And finally, he can't be bribed by lobbyists and bought off by corporate special interests (there could be a minimal ring of truth to this, at least compared to Congress at-large).
All this infantile rhetoric makes me physically ill.
So if you're serious about disrupting a Trump rally, here are some unorthodox suggestions.
1) Consider attending the event in a wheelchair. Those at the rally are far less likely to get into a confrontation with someone who appears physically disabled. And if security tries to remove you, it makes for incredibly bad optics on television. These days, when perception is reality, Trump goons picking on the handicapped would not go over well. Him mocking them is one thing. His minions getting rough with them is another.
If you can't borrow an old wheelchair, consider scoring a cheap pair of crutches from a thrift store. Crutches also make for an excellent self defense weapon as traditional security measures and magnetometers do not apply.
If you have military gear (particularly of the Vietnam era), make sure to wear it. A subtle reminder that Trump got 4 preferential deferments from the draft. Obviously, this would make him a great, amazing, wonderful, terrific commander-in-chief.
Instead of whistling or yelling "Bernie, Bernie", resort to screams of terror and agony as if you're afraid that your life is in imminent danger. Not only is it much more confusing. It's also disturbing and could provoke an EMT response. There's a big difference between the generic sound of "USA, USA"or "TRUMP, TRUMP" and shrill, bone chilling screams.
2) Purchase a case of those "snap bang" fireworks and distribute them accordingly. Hand them out to like-minded individuals heading inside. Scatter a small handful in each of your pockets. Those little snappers make a ton of noise. If people around you are getting escorted out, discreetly start throwing them at the ground. This is a secret service nightmare as the noises could be perceived as a weapon discharge. If done effectively in various quadrants of the venue, they might pull the plug on Trump's mic... merely out of an abundance of caution until they get a handle on the situation. Protesters wouldn't normally have the guts to pull this one off. But if they hear others doing it, there could be a mob mentality participation.
These snappers are dirt cheap. Sold by the case for less than $20. And unlike traditional fireworks, you can buy them in all 50 states.
3) Download various piercing, random noises on your cell phone. Errant high pitched screams, feedback noise, startling pinball ring tones, etc. You can even purchase a miniature sound amplification device for relatively low cost. This just adds to the irritation level. Plus, others who hear the artificial noise, might follow suit.
4) Sabotage Trump's twitter feed. He routinely uses it as a primitive weapon. So can you.
If you're attending the Trump rally, I heard that protesters are going to be keying cars, slashing tires and smashing windows. My best advice is to park at least 1 mile away from the site. Event organizers are encouraging Trump supporters to use public transportation.
Post this same information on the local newspaper and television facebook pages. Flood social media. People won't attend if they think their car might be vandalized during the rally. Make potential references to drone threats, active shooter situations, hydrochloric acid in the face, things like that. Always preface every statement with... I heard a rumor that...
5) If the venue has an upper level, distribute precautionary literature beforehand that warns rally-goers about the dangers of potentially being thrown off the balcony. Be particularly wary of muscular, heavy-set black men or other ethnic minorities in elevated locations. Create a heightened level of fear and distrust in the venue. Some people will think twice before attending. Fear and paranoia sells - just ask The Donald. It's pretty much the premise of his entire campaign.
6) If you have some serious courage, bring extra pairs of shoelaces and literally tie yourself to a fixed object. Use an old pro-wrestling trick. Knick your forehead with a tiny razor blade. Relatively pain free with no permanent scarring... unless you take it to the brink every night for a couple of decades.
We're going to Make America Dream Again. This would make for a great t-shirt. A pic of Dusty Rhodes' mangled forehead. Speaking of deceased pro wrestlers, I saw a Piper's Pit t-shirt at yesterday's St. Patrick's Day parade. Only in Pittsburgh. I say that as a compliment.
Anyway, traditional security will be a helluva lot more squeamish and tentative before getting involved with someone who has a trail of blood streaming down their face. The truth --- bleeding makes the highlight reel. Once again, it's a secret service nightmare and public relations mega-disaster. Trump really doesn't have a traditional "damage control" team. He just makes it all up as he goes along.
7) If you're getting escorted out, look for an opportunity to deliberately trip and hit the ground. The people tossing you from the venue will be blamed for using unnecessary force and the inability to show a modicum of restraint. The notion of protesters being manhandled by security does not sell in a general election.
Always carry mace or pepper spray. Whether or not you'll be forced to remove it from your key chain is a matter of random discretion. Security never specifically addresses this particular self-defense weapon, because they don't want to draw attention to the fact that it's universally legal in stadiums, arenas, amphitheaters, etc.
8) If you see Trump supporters being interviewed on live national television, enter the fray. Pretend to be mentally retarded or pull a Rick Astley in the background - Never Gonna Give You Up dance moves. Despite what many think, the old-school "fuck her in the pussy" disruption is alive and well. That classic ain't goin' away anytime soon. But I prefer the simple "Duhhh, I love Trump," spoken with the traditional retardo inflection of course. A little low brow perhaps but very effective nonetheless.
9) Design a few signs that are by definition, totally absurd. It makes the entire crowd look like a bunch of morons. I used this ploy, with minimal success, at several McCain/Palin rallies. I wrote about it in my auto-biography.
Note: the intentional misspelling of "dinosaurs." I liked that one so much, I had it signed by Fox News pundit/political strategist Dick Morris.
I have a tenth suggestion but it's a little over the top. If Trump-mentum persists, I'll pull it off if when the Jag-Off shows up in Pittsburgh. And no, it's not an artificially generated stampede. Although I do think it could happen at the Republican National Convention. Wouldn't it be nice if someone could warn venue management at Quicken Loans arena in Cleveland? But regrettably, nobody's allowed to talk about it. Ahh yes, the endearing catch-22. How appropriate would it be if such a tragedy befell the evolutionary nay-sayers and their collective dismissal of herding instincts. Ouch!
This has been such a mean spirited blog post. Let's end it on a more lighthearted note. Here's the many faces of Trump and his striking resemblance with raw chicken parts.
My favorite is the third one down on the right. Pissed off chicken Trump.
Friday, March 11, 2016
I don't own a crystal ball. However, I do enjoy predicting the future. For example, I often envision a DOMINIPEDE (multiple, simultaneous human stampedes likely impacting the NFL 1 o'clock slate of games). Unless the government or private industry magically starts telling people the truth about outdated emergency stadium evacuation protocol, I see the next 9/11 comin' atcha like a bullet train to Osaka. Home of Mr. Saito - the non-communicative, non-salt throwing half of the former WWF tag team champions. End rant. See... you got off lucky this time.
In this day and age, "political correctness" is the hot new buzzword. Everything must be PC. And at the same time, transgendered people are all the rage. Olympic phenom/tv reality star Caitlyn Jenner is leading the charge. Whether it be with an automobile accident on the Pacific Coast highway or some new Kardashian inspired perfume. I call it Karcass... with an emphasis on the Wheaties ass syllable. It's the latest scent in the trans-fume milieu.
Not to be confused with metal band Carcass or the capital of Venezuela, mispronounced Caracas.
Seriously though, these days everyone seems to be reveling in their physical abnormalities --- pierced dicks, third nipples, multi-tiered gunts. I recently had an encounter with a man on the Southside who had a surgically implanted, secondary butthole. His theory was that when he farted it could be like "dueling exhausts." Naturally, on one ass cheek there's a Ford tattoo and the other side said its Chevy. How inventive! Nascar's back full throttle. Boogity.
There's the government acceptance angle as well. Bisexual restrooms, gay cruises, midget orgies, Euro-Homo porn, the list goes on. As a tolerant and trusting society, we must embrace the eccentric freaks. We must welcome them with open arms and provide federal funding for their genitalia removal and post-operative psychological counseling. Hey, if I wanna get a third testicle, who are you to judge? Who are you to play God? George Costanza, Junior Mint/Triangle Art episode.
Jerry: Well, I gotta call the Hospital. I gotta tell 'em what happened.
George: No, Jerry. I wouldn't do that.
George: You could get in trouble.
Jerry: Look, I gotta try and help the guy.
George: Who are you to play God!? Every man's time comes! If his number is up, who are you to interfere!?
My point. It's the year of the transgendered. Their time has come and we shall submit accordingly. Now maybe you didn't notice but it's an election year as well. So after the primary dust settles (it's correctly referred to as a "primordial dusting"), I suspect that Donald and Hillary will be the respective candidates. Therefore, in the spirit of all that is PC, I proudly present you with the trans-morphed celebrity nickname --- "Dillary."
Uh, no. Fuck that! Instead, I give you CLUMP!
Now as the general election rolls around on November 8, 2016, it will naturally be preceded by Halloween. And just like clockwork, the entire United States will be searching for that perfect costume.
HELLO! Uncle Leo, bitches.
I said fucking HELLO! Clump is where it's at. Clump masks. Clump posters. Clump figurines. Everything Clump.
This will be the "go-to" 2016 Halloween costume. No doubt about it. Call it anything you want... a virtual certainty, a consequential assurance, an evident inevitability, whatever.
Now you know how the sheeple are so predictable. Americans like to go out and spend, spend, spend. Once again, I say fuck that. Here's the superior Halloween costume. And I'm gonna give it away now like Anthony Kiedis, on a diaper-clad, shirtless heroin binge.
Here's what you do. Go to your local community college or university. Yell at everyone in the computer lab, "Listen up you nerds. Get the scholastic fuck outta here! I need to use the printer!" Google the word CLUMP and print out a hundred copies for each image. Make that Hewlett Packard moan in agony... like a little Catholic schoolboy at confession.
Next, head over to the nearest Chinese restaurant, preferably named Won Ton Time or House of Wang. Tell the owner you're going to stand outside and welcome every patron with the following line "Me so horny. Me love you long time" unless they capitulate and give you their entire supply of chopsticks.
With a pair of scissors, a roll of scotch tape and some cardboard, you now have all the necessary elements for a virtual army of Clumps. There you go. You just make a ton of those faux-ghetto hold up facial masks. Put a few favorites in your back jeans pocket. It's the Halloweenie costume of a lifetime. No obstructive clothing. No problem consuming hors d'oeuvres or imbibing shitty craft pumpkin beer. Easy, peasy, japaneesie.
Finally, download that memorable Kriss-Kross song "Jump" on your i-phone. Have it cued and ready to go. Whenever someone asks, "Why didn't you dress up," you just whip out your Clump on a stick, hit the play button, and start yelling and jumping "Saffy Mac (insert your name) is gonna make ya, Clump, Clump, Clump! Kriss Kross is gonna Clump, Clump, Clump!" You'll get the whole party going like a Wisconsin Badgers football game.
Incidentally, my deepest sympathy to the one who's dead. If I remember correctly, it was a heroin od. But hey, let's be honest, what better way to celebrate his rapscallion existence?