Some time ago, I posted the aptly titled write-up, Absurdity Abounds, a piece full of wry commentary and what I call wit. Its scope was rather grand considering it was inspired by mail order monkeys.

You heard me. Mail order monkeys, monkeys by mail, a friend told me about this ill-conceived venture, which beggared the question:

You kiss your mama with that mouth?

In the South that's a query reserved for swear words and whoppers, but my friend was telling the truth. You think you've heard it all and then you find out that not so long ago and in spite of the obvious drawbacks, squealing, frightened monkeys were indeed crated up and sent C.O.D. to the homes of squealing, delighted children

No wonder George W. sat in the White House for eight friggin' years. There's a guy you wouldn't mind havin' a beer with, say Bill, you get them squirrel monkeys shipped out.

Now in this country of the blind a bad comb-over is king, internment camps are looming on the horizon and instead of packing crates the squirrel monkeys get Cabinet posts.

For political acuity I'm about as sharp as a sack of wet mice. But I know a jackass when I see one. 

The same friend who alerted me to mail order monkeys sent me a picture he found online. I have looked at this vintage image far longer than I should've, and I still have no idea what on god's green earth is going on here.

Some bizarre celebration of new life, perhaps. I don't know what it is. But that picture put the Trump presidency into perspective.

During the Obama years, I was living on a more or less steady diet of hope. A Trump presidency was not merely inconceivable, it was absurd.

Absurdity abounds. Now President Jackass is deporting the undocumented laborers he paid less than field hands to slap some gold paint on the White House, and I've been walking around since election night like I was punched in the gut.

We've gone stark raving mad.

We have lost our fucking minds.

In the movie “Primal Fear”, Martin Vail is a defense attorney representing a young man, Aaron, who is on trial for murder. Aaron, it seems, suffers from multiple personality disorder. By arguing it was actually “Roy” who committed the murder, Vail wins a “not guilty by reason of insanityverdict for his client, who then reveals it was all an act.

Vail: So there never was a Roy.

Client: I thought you had it figured out. There never was an Aaron.

Inside the Gold House, squirrel monkeys are lobbing their poop at the walls, President Jackass is asking Vladimir who?, and looking at that picture from so long ago, of those women, and whatever that is, I think I have figured it out.

There was never a time we weren't stark raving mad.

There was never a time we were sane.

Welcome to the gold fucking monkey house, folks.

And yeah.

I do kiss my mama with that mouth.

 

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