Not even bothering with crocodile tears. The shooting at Donald Trump’s July 13th, 2024, Bund/klan/neo-Nazi rally was rigged.

That a spectator and the gunman as fall guy were killed were ultimately seen as insignificant prices paid by others for Cadet Bone Spur’s campaign. In the Convicted First Felon’s grift world, SOP is always finding others to foot the bill no matter the cost.

When news of the “shooting” first broke, there might’ve been the accustomed handwringing about guns in America. Too many weapons, and too many of those in the wrong hands. Yet clarity established itself. The target wasn’t a classroom full of elementary school students or parishioners in a church or synagogue.

It was the short-fingered vulgarian. A bully flinging red meat at his mindless MAGA mongrels somewhere in salt of the earth Pennsylvania USA. And given the phony tough guy rhetoric he chums then spews, maybe somebody just unhinged enough from the other side he always disdains, insults, belittles decided to ante then raise him.

Come to discover it was a MAGA loon. That’s how nuts they’re becoming. That’s how nuts they’ll become. When the truest believers will devour their own to prove absolute fealty to absurdity.

The howling feces throwing monkey leading the Republican Party pushed someone too far. The vile pig brought Saturday’s incident upon himself. That one of his own committed the act is just too delicious. Oh, delicious irony.

Nonetheless, as I’ve been informing readers for years, right-wingers are willingly oblivious to this one fact – the other sides are also armed. Just because we and they don’t make ostentatious show of openly carrying pistols, revolvers, long barrels, and assault rifles, doesn’t mean none of us are unarmed.

Here in Las Vegas after the presumptive Republican nominee for president caught the meagerest amount possible of what John McCain experienced in Hanoi, local journalists congregated at the target’s property and inquired of the guests. To a moron they brayed had the cheat, thief, liar, rapist, and traitor been mortally wounded, it would’ve meant “civil war.”

Amusing considering these dupes possess the same amount of backbone as their leader. None.

Anyway, the true Americans they’ve willingly accepted as unfaithful to our nation are all peaceable people. Unlike MAGA we have no inadequacies demanding we display heavy metal. Who on earth do we need to intimidate to make ourselves feel bigger, bolder, and better? We are secure in ourselves. No MAGA can say that unless he or she is strapped. Even then there’s always that niggling fear in them that perhaps the caliber weighing them down is insufficient.

But the “target” was Donald Trump. So, healthy skepticism should factor in this vast, enormous, yuge case of cynicism.

After President Biden wrong-footed himself all over the stage during his first debate with the grifter in chief, the advantage the Republicans’ head swine in charge seemed beneficiary of must’ve just as quickly evaporated once the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 started gaining “Holy shit!/Are you fucking kidding me!?” traction with Americans who don’t wish for our lives to be utterly degraded.

The best thing about the Project 2025 proposals for Americans? Hmmm. For those who aren’t hanky-head house Negroes like Clarence Thomas and Candace Owens or top percentile of wealthiest Americans is the rest of us will be able to pray for death reciting Scripture from a religion selected by the parasitic elect.

Therefore, Mormons, Jews, Muslims, you wrong kind of Protestants and Catholics, prepare for the fiery depths of an eternal hell not your own.

Everything the Founders wanted … to prevent from encroaching upon these shores.

Surely at the grifter in chief’s floating campaign headquarters less occluded minds must’ve burned what brain cells remained from having been allocated this week about how to ju-jitsu complaisant reputable news sources off Project 2025 back onto “At 81, Joe’s too old to campaign again.”

Indeed, the president is too old to mount another campaign.

However, governing, especially when one has a repository of such lifetime institutional knowledge, isn’t anywhere near as tasking as grin and grips on the campaign trail. If fact, the possessor of information on how the system operates probably has ready answers through rote.

But “gotcha” questions? Answering those at any age takes effort.

Seeing the advantage snatched away through their own Project 2025 duplicity, it takes nothing, nothing at all, believing the lack of brains forming the corroded brain trust behind developing a scheme as cockamamie as paying off Stormy Daniels for relations never engaged in and keeping quiet about what never occurred yet writing off what never happened as a legitimate campaign expense could top that.

There you have why the grifter in chief is a convicted felon. His being a tightwad bastard whose cover up became a crime. If the Queens mook had just reached into his pocket for that 130K and paid Stormy, he’d still be a lot of things – all of them unsavory. But he also would’ve evaded a felony conviction.

Talk about being a bona fide dumbfuck. What kind of billionaire is he again?

Fror the skeptical reading this, you are correct. It won’t take much to see that day’s protective services in cahoots with the violent theater that erupted. Because beneath the badges of more American law personnel than citizens will find comforting, there beat MAGA hearts.

What little convincing might it have taken for them to have gotten on board Saturday’s pantomime? After all, the “shots” were only to have been for show. A made for TV spectacle for a made by TV creature.

Going along with the con, that may be why those maintaining eagle-eyed rooftop vigilance dismissed the in plain sight gunsel’s possible threat. The same one which alarmed observant MAGAs.

Those manning the aerie assumed him one of “them.” They knew his was a starter’s gun. Those always shoot blanks.

Therefore, channeling the DeCavalcante Family, or the Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Straight, why not wrench attention from Project 2025 as well as mine undeserved sympathy for the candidate through some open-air theatrics? In the Alabama part of Pennsylvania, how easy must it have been to recruit some local MAGA Jethro as a gunholding spearcarrier?

The plan probably was – oh, there was a plan – for Audie Murphy 2.0 to snap off a few caps. This would rile the attending suckers and stir security. Through this the candidate would behave as if his worthless life was in jeopardy.

Unfortunately for the victim and the fall guy, the latter probably learned the word “verisimilitude” at the worst possible time. Instead of hefting a prop gun and blasting blanks skyward, he toted along an AR bearing live rounds. Maybe he didn’t intend killing or wounding any attendees. Or secretly being a psycho, maybe he did.

But let’s agree there were projectiles. Now what?

In the shooter’s spongy mind, those live rounds were to ping and puncture the podium the Convicted First Felon crowded behind. Ideally in the immediate confusion the gunman ought have been able to skitter away. But you know “artiste” as he was, he must’ve stuck around to admire how his creation affected viewers.

Funny. The candidate’s people may’ve hired a housepainter. They got Picasso instead.

That first scenario is what the candidate and his mopes expected. A second unexpected lethal one developed.

During the first, the “wound” Cadet Bone Spurs ought have suffered would’ve been provided by a small blood bladder bought from a prop supply house. Reflexively ducking rightward from the popping noise, momentarily obscured from sight, all he needed doing was slapping it upside his ear during the tumult.

Nicked as he was, though, the short-fingered vulgarian nonetheless reflexively followed the script. Hit his mark, as it were. What a fucking trouper.

Look at the blood streaking his face. It goes across his cheek, none behind his head. The result of fingers and cupped palm splattering blood bag contents forward.

Furthermore, let’s argue about the eon it took evacuating Mr. High Priority from the stage. Beauty queens’ processions move faster than it took for him to have left the stage. Haven’t we all seen the secret service cocoon the target while rushing him or her towards safety?

Didn’t see that Saturday.

Walruses rolling across beaches move faster than the Convicted First Felon did below sightlines.

Moreover, he remained meerkat tall for the longest. He was more exposed than a car’s hood ornament.

Gonna go on a limb here. Bet none of that is standard secret service procedure.

I know. How is that possible?

Let us count the days until “horror” dispels, and thorough investigation reveals how July 13th was produced. It being a Trump misproduction, prepare to laugh at how it went awry.

Arc of the Ball

Give or take a few years, a wave of contemporaries will join me sloshing into retirement. Some are younger and have ever-shorter distances to go. Others, having been there for a while, welcomed me at the finish line. A few leaned into the same tape as I did.

I think we share this mutual view: we don’t believe we’ve made it; we’re grateful to have “finished” the race. As I must’ve written elsewhere, now I know why my parents were so happy when work stopped scheduling their lives. Continue reading Arc of the Ball

Killing Snakes

Have I been strident about what occurred in Israel on October 7th, 2023? Hell yeah! My stridency equals, no, surpasses those on the wrong side of the issue.

Have I been dismissive about what torments Gazans are enduring over the months since? Indeed, I have.

Have I lost social media correspondents with my backing of Israel’s justifiably ruthless extermination of Hamas terrorists? Yes. Continue reading Killing Snakes

Presentable People

On this everyone can agree – O.J. Simpson really messed up.

No. Not that he killed his ex-wife Nicole and her boyfriend Ron Goldman in 1994. The college and professional football legend had nothing to do with their demises. Rather, O.J. tempted fate and got severely scorched by it when he crossed the Mojave Desert into Nevada in order to retrieve memorabilia he believed still his. Continue reading Presentable People

Marathon 65

Sometimes through life this runner stumbled. While there was never any first place, crossing the line signifying 65 eventually became a major goal.

On some plane, I should grumble about not living in opulence and swaddled by elegance. People who do are part of my circle. Cosseted as such, some still haven’t found satisfaction. Deep or otherwise. Indeed, you can have plentitude and realize it means little.

In lieu of close family, I’m lucky to have a network of trustworthy and understanding contemporaries. Can’t buy those. Continue reading Marathon 65

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