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Defining, the President

Or, “Oops, you thought I was gunna say God again, didn’t ya?”prayer-unclesam

No, there is no comparison.

Sorry, B.O.

You ain’t God.

Not even a joyful little knock off.

You may ask, “how do you know God, big fella” (eyes, right).

Well, it is really less about my knowing Him, and much more about His knowing me.

You see, I have spent a little time as a guest in His house; AND, He is ALWAYS welcome in mine!

That darned conscience He engineered as standard equipment.

Some may say it is how He communicates with us; others, how we delude ourselves (no, He does NOT tell ya to go out and go on a killing rampage – that is Timothy Leary, Big Bird, and the marijuana talking).

What He does do is force us to re-analyze ourselves.

So here goes.

What makes a good President?


121554843_3a127681a2_oWe “defined” God in the last column, now let us refine something that does not even rank as a lesser god.

Does not even rank as, well, rank (unless you are B.O., errr, have b.o., errrr stink like a rotting fish – from the offended proboscis on down – (yes, even a fish can be offended by stench, even when it is its own)).

Sometimes, when tackling such a big job as defining what constitutes a “good” President, one must first define what a bad one looks like.


Well, you all know where I could go with this one.

Sheeple. Sheeple shearing Sheeple, are the pluckiest Sheeple in the Red Commie world.

Sheeple. Sheeple shearing Sheeple, are the pluckiest Sheeple in the Red Commie world.

Go to any barber shop throughout the land and you will hear all about Jimmy Carter and Richard Nixon.

About “Slick Willy”, and Ronald Reagan (snoozer).

About McArthy, and McGovern (yes, I know they are not presidents, but we here, we break rules and speak of wannabes too)..

About the “guvnor” of Alabama, or Barrack “INsane” Obama (I’ll shall have a dream, and it SHALL be about moi).

About change, about chaos, about stasis and about stability.

Oh, you will also hear the pragmatist speak of how the market just “loooooves” volatility.

And boy, do we have it (good year to invest).

But I got to thinking this morning – “if this new book coming out is the true FINAL nail in the Clinton dynastic coffin – what are we left with”.

Then, it dawned on me.

McCartneytaking a selfie

Yes, that is Paul McArtney in the water, taking the very first “Supah-Stah” self-righteous “selfie” – if he had known it would lead to the Kardashians ???

This race, it is not about personality (in spite of what you see with your good eyes – look at this one with your third eye).

For those in El Segundo, your “heart-light”.  The eye of the soul.

It is not about good, and evil here.

Not about world domination, or about achieving peace.

It is about philosophy.

To be specific, poli-economic philosophy.

Now, think about it.

If Hill-baby is knocked out of this race (and with all that is stacking up against her, it is not looking like that cartoon of the scientist, you know the one where he is standing in front of the chalk board with his hard-derived equation, with his pointer directed toward the conclusion of the equation and he explains “then a miracle occurred here”);if she’s knocked out, then what we have left are two competing philosophies (maybe if she isn’t knocked out – my beer buddy Morrison Duke and I have concluded that ALL dems are RED commies).

Johnny "U-231" Unitas

Johnny “U-231” Unitas

Yeah, I don’t ‘think’ there is a last-second, hail Mary, alley-oop basket from down court or touchdown at the final whistle to prove her victorious in this mess.

But you never know.

They are the teflon Clintons.

But for argument’s sake (how many times have you heard that in this column?) – for argument’s sake, let’s just say that she is done for.

THEN, the conclusion is a battle-royal between two Titans – Communism (“feel the bum”) vs. Capitalism (“we shall over-comb”).

It is the “people’s champion” in the one corner, and the Titan of BIG BIZ-X Americana in the other.

Some pathetic hobo from an Arlo-Woodrow Guthrie song about how shitty they got it under capitalism and “the man”, vs. the Beach Boys singing about an endless Summer caught on Donald Trump’s permanent wave of freedom through rampaging capitalism.

The multi-millionaire from giving spewches on Fidel, Chavez, Chairman Mao and Che, to he that makes that dreadfully simple declarative statement everyone despises (and yet, yearns to hear – sorry B.O.) – “YOU are fired”.


Let’s hope he can fire the commie “bastahds” on the left (close as I can get to a Kennedy accent).

All of them.

Not just B.O.

You see, all these flower children…they only live for one thing.

Screwing each other.

If Thumper had a cousin, who happened to be a hippie, Thumper would be ashamed.

That’s bad.

Boxing_Hares_2For you kids on your laptops, and your hand-helds (you know that will make you go blind) and your “googley-eyed” googley glasses (no, I take that back, you already ARE blind)….”Thumper” is a character from a Disney movie your teenage mom and pop grew up hearing about from their Grandparents…it is called “Bambie” – and every kid cried (except me – I was still laughing in inside about Thumper).

Well, we are gonna all cry if the heartless collectivists win.

You wanna know why?

We won’t be able to go to the grocery store without smelling marijuana smoke.

Tears will run from our eyes as if we work in an onion factory.

Stoners will run us all off the road.

THAT is the dystopian future of the collectivist.

Once we are all “comfortably numb” (what a cool song) – then, the RED Chinese bastards will sweep in to mop everything up.


Image 02 21 2015 1424529492There will be a bunch of stoned red-necks too.

You ever see a stoned red neck shoot?  It is a site to behold, I tell ya.

Get one of them toked up and tell them to go fetch a bag of squirrels – they’ll bring back a truck load.

So, yeah, there will be wars within wars.

A stoner is not simply just a stoner.

Just like Thumper who was ashamed of his cousin, most back woods-type stoners do not associate themselves with hippies, or Cheech and Chong.

They are what you might call a “refined” class of stoner.

But that is a different subject.

rhinoAlternately, in a Trump future…everyone will own a Bugatti.

We will all live large, and fire our neighbors as ourselves.

Hell, we’ll just fire everything and ever-body.

“Fire all of your guns at once and, EX-plode into space”.

-Steppenwolf, “Born to be Wild”

True nature’s children, living out back of Grand-Pappy’s moonshine still.

And yeah, they’ll defy the RED Chinese to come attack.

432fbb2735b847c2aa4062a08ddbc8439ea2fd8a_fullWhat’ll happen is, the troops will move in, and next thing you know they will find themselves caught in caverns of endless opium dens.

Problem solved.

Yet another indoctrinated little red book reader caught up in a votex straight from a capitalist hell – back woods black markets (I can smell the capitalism beginning to grow…and no artificial lights!).

So, we will have a battle royale.


Only cowards hide behind sheets and masks. Don’t be a coward.

And one will win, and one will lose.

When that one looses, let’s hope it the final victory (at least on our soil).

Throw the bums out.

“Feel the bum” !


About precipii

An aged anti-hippie, ...


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