Deploribus Unum: The Making of Bedlam 1 - 2 - 3.

Les Fleurs du Mal.

So now we have a new president-elect. The man who claimed the election was rigged was elected, and no one has wondered why a man who admitted the election was rigged can simply saunter on stage and claim that victory is his. Oi.

Yet, as Democrats ponder, "How could  this have happened?", perhaps they should instead be wondering, "How could we thought it'd 've turned out any differently?" When I would ask people who were aghast at the Republican Circus put on during their "debates", well, yes, it's like a Ionesco play, but at least the GOP were putting on a display for our entertainment, but how are the Democrats better? Why is the party that calls itself Democratic putting forward a pol from the last century as if she were the Heir-apparent, offering as a bromide the mere fact that she "stepped aside" and united the Party in 2008 by not fiercely opposing Obama? It was even rumored that he had promised his support to her after his term was over. And that, as they say, was that. What voters wanted was never really part of the equation. Them? They'll do as  they're told.

Hillary was the nominee. It had been decided, not by popular vote, but by the self-appointed elites of the DNC. Although an upstart Bernie apparently never got the memo, he wasn't even really a Democrat, and he was scoffed at openly by the MSM as though it had turned into a twisted version of Fox gone wild. So we were presented by the party that calls itself Democratic with a 'fait accompli' in terms of the Clinton candidacy even as we ridiculed the ascension of the biggest windbag ever to blow into a political race and hoped that no one would notice, just because we refused to notice.

So now, we once again have selected atavism and a return to disastrous Republican rule. Within four short months after being elected in 2000, GW Bush was entertaining the Taliban in the White House and handing over US taxpayer dollars to the Afghanistan sect that was known to be harboring Osama Bin Laden, and Surprise Surprise, they used that cash to plan and execute the bombing of the US Pentagon and New York's Twin Towers, succeeding beyond their wildest dreams, while our president read fairy tales in Florida and was  then re-elected for "Keeping America Safe" (the absurdity of which no Democrat had the gumption to point out, but that The Donald had no hesitation about  highlighting, btw). Bush then went on to foster the most spectacular financial calamity in the history of the world, while, perhaps even by, presiding over the raising of gasoline prices to the highest level they had ever been, even higher than during the 70's oil crises. All while making empty, cynical promises, promises that no Republican even remembers, so they don't have to admit they were the cynical lies they were, to bring down the price of a barrel of oil to $22/bbl, appearing in the newspapers walking hand-in-jihand with the "King" of Saudi Arabia, who he assured us was on-board with the idea of lower oil prices (yeah ... sure he was). Under Obama, we are now enjoying the lowest prices for gasoline since the disastrous Bush junta left office. I don't even own a car, and I know this. Somehow, nobody else seems to.

All of that will now change. And that is a bad thing. But that is a good thing.

While denying climate change, Trump will do more for reining in its worse polluter, the United States, than Obama ever did for precisely that reason. As oil prices start to escalate, so will the pump prices in the US. As the ROW reverberates from the slap in the face they consider a Trump presidency to be, the cost to fund the giganormous National Debt and its associated ongoing annual fiscal deficits, the higher the interest rates on dollar-denominated-debt will go and the sale of all those ICE machines that have gotten larger and larger and purchased with ZERO percent interest loans, will plummet, as Free Money becomes anything but.

Last Saturday in Doug Noland's Credit Bubble Bulletin , he announced that he had already voted, for "change" (Like Obama's "Change?"), as he so cowardly put it (if you voted for Trump, fine, but at least have the gumption to say so outright, instead of couching it in such a high-handed euphemism). The real change he is talking about is depicted in this scenario from The Friends of Eddie Coyle (George Higgins' crime novel set in the seventies) he depicts the interaction between the sexes as a gunrunner delivers his load to a bankrobber:

   "Who is it?" the voice said,
   "Coyle," Eddie Coyle said. "I brought the groceries."
   "Come on in", Scalia said.
Coyle followed him into the trailer. "This is Wanda," Scalia said.
Wanda was five-ten, a hundred and thirty pounds. She had heavy breasts which Coyle noticed immediately because she was wearing a tee-shirt and a bra with bright red flowers. She was also wearing wheat-colored jeans. There were noticeable stains at the crotch, "Hi," she said.
   "What do you do?" Coyle said.
   "She words at Northeast," Scalia said.
   "I'm a stewardess," she said.

   "Yes indeed," Coyle said. Wanda  smiled.
   "What's in the bags, Scalia said.
   "Meat and beer and stuff," Coyle said. "Now you mention it, I could use a beer."
   "Wanda,"' Scalia said, get the man a beer. We'll be inna living room."

   "That's pretty nice," Coyle said, "She understand?"
   "What you don't know," Scalia said, "it doesn't bother you. She don't know."
   "She thinks You're off selling  magazines," Coyle said.
   "I don't know what she thinks," Scalia said. "I told her I had to go away for awhile. She don't     question it."
   "Jesus," Coyle said, "I got to talk to you some time. I don't know how you do it."
"It's confidence,"Scalia said. You look them right in the eye and say, "Hey I gotta go away for a while. They'll buy it."
"You got to meet my wife," Coyle said. "You said that to my wife, you was me, she'd get this look on her face. Oh yeah? Like you was trying to sell her a used car. I got to take the time and watch you. That's the only way."
Scalia laughed.
Coyle indicated the kitchen area by moving his head. "That's pretty nice, too," he said. "Where'd you get that"?
"Oh, you know," Scalia said. "I'm over at Arliss one night and one of the guys comes in with her. We more or less strike up a conversation . One of those things."

Coyle rubbed his crotch.

"Very warm there," Scalia said, "She don't wear no panties. I ask her why and she says she don't own no panties. Wears them pantyhose when she's working. She gets in them dungarees, no panties. Now and then I just come up behind her and reach right down there. She comes off like she was on electricity. I never see anything like it."
"Jesus," Coyle says.
"It's a great life, Scalia said, "If you don't weaken, it's a great life. You bring the stuff?"
"Out in the kitchen," Coyle said, "Right inna shopping bag, under the chair. All set."

   Wanda came in with a tray. It held a quart of beer and two glasses. "That's pretty nice meat you brought," she said. "I was putting it away there and I looked it over."
"Yeah, thanks," Scalia said. "How much I owe you for the groceries?"
"Well, let's see," Eddie Coyle said. "Twelve bucks for the first batch, then eight. Then there was another dozen, eighteen bucks for that. Now there's ten here, another fifteen hundred. Forty-five hundred. I'll throw in the steaks."

"My God," Wanda said,"that's a lot of money for some meat."
"Shut up, Wanda," Scalia said.
"You know my friend here, I think," she said, "very large gangster type."
"I told you," Scalia said, "shut up."
"Fuck you ," Wanda said. "I heard you talking about me, I was right there, I heard you. What business of his is it, I wear panties or not.  What am I, something you brag about? My kid brother talks about his goddamned Mustang the same way you talk about me. 'I just reach down there every so often and set her off.' For Christ sake. I thought we were friends. I thought we liked each other. Shit."

"You got this trouble?" Scalia said to Coyle.
"Yeah," Coyle said, "different, but the same. Hasn't everybody?"
"Fuck you too," Wanda said to Coyle.
"I think it's the Women's Lib stuff or something," Scalia said. "I'll be Christ if I know what to make out of it."
"I don't think they got enough on their minds," Coyle said. You know, hacking around all day. They stand around there thinking, you get home and  they're all pissed off and all you did was put the goddamned car in the yard, They need some good worries, is what I think."

"I work," Wanda said. "I probably work more'n you both of you bastards  put together. I earn my keep."
"I told you to shut up," Scalia said.
"I told you to go and fuck yourself," Wanda Said. Talking about me like that. How'd you like it if I was to start telling the girls at the store about your prick and what you like me to do with it?" With me, the things you like to do with me, would you like that?"
Scalia came out of the chair quickly and slapped Wanda  across the face. "I told you to shut up," he said. "That's what I want you to do. Shut fucking up".

Ah yes, the last malennium. I remember it well, when militarism and love of Government was at its zenith, and anti-female rhetoric like this was everyday. I never understood marriage, because, although the men depicted here are criminals, this is how most married men talked about women. As objects, or housemaids. In one of the Harry Potter movies, Potter performs some trickery that deprives one of his enemies of the hold he has over an elf such that the elf is now free from his tutelage. The man raises his cane and advances all hellfire, face livid with rage as he strides toward Potter intending to smite him, while yelling,

"You lost me my SERvant!"

That is the attitude toward liberals displayed by the rise of the Trumplestiltskins. It is their reaction to this very real loss of their servants that men have felt with the rise of fossil fuel-derived energy and the loosening of the economic bonds that tied females to the male gravy train. Wanna eat? Need a place to sleep? Then do the shopping. Prepare the meals for me and my progeny, then clean the dishes, and don't forget to sweep and wash the floor, get  me a drink, do my laundry, and suck my dick."

This is the "change" that the white American male has voted for, a back to the future world where they are again in charge, free to abuse women who get uppity, where American women are grateful again, instead of, "She's mad because I tell the goddamned truth, She don't wear no panties. So where's the thing, I mean? What harm does it do? The broad's great in the sack and she lights off real easy. So I say it, and now she's mad. I don't know."

The language, the attitude, and tone are the same as the Donald's in his taped interview with Bush. The criminality that's proud of itself and can't understand the rancor it rouses.

Recently, Nestle's CEO re-iterated his opinion that water is not a human right. The natural corollary to that is that neither is air. The fossil fuel industry, automobile manufacturers, power plant operators, cement pourers, and a myriad array of industrial corporations and each one of us driving around in our little chemical weapon of mass destruction, feel the same, as we nonchalantly change thereby   the very composition of the atmosphere, that is, in the very air that we breathe. Such a change is a criminal act unless that which you change belongs to you. But it doesn't. It belongs to not even all of us, but to all of the living organisms in the world, many of which we need for our own survival, but we usurp it and alter it as though it is our right and then put politicians in office, such as the Marco Pudio, who whines that, "Oh it's science. I'm a good little-dick Catholic Cuban, so I don't, and can't be expected to, understand something as complex as the idea that the atmospheres is composed of different gases, nor that billions of people taking one of them out and replacing it by pouring another one into it at an increasingly accelerating rate will change that composition. OW! My head hurts! Please don't make me think."

But, as the attitude toward their female partners illustrates,the Trumps of the world, DO believe they own them, along with everything else, including the very water we drink and the air we breathe. We can't stop them, so by default, they DO own it. And the hapless Left, by its refusal to admit that the manner in which we now inhabit the earth is ultimately destructive, insisting instead that ethanol and biodiesel, electric cars, and wind and solar panels can be counted on to keep the racket going, whether Bernie Sanders or Donald Trump is in the White House, are actually far worse. Because, the more the middle class grows and expands such that it now bestrides all countries all across the globe, becoming the burgeoning part of the population, which, the faster it grows, the faster those gasses are poured into the atmosphere, and the more rabid does the destruction of the rain-forests and every other habitation not yet overrun by mankind get demolished. These are the only places left on the globe capable of up-taking mankind-generated CO2 and replacing it with life-giving oxygen.

But since we ARE the middle class, it must be the one percent that's at fault. Then we can concentrate on their behavior and how evil they are instead of questioning our own middle-class values. Values that used to include thrift and industriousness, compassion and anti-militarism, but that now simply apes all the worse excesses of the same one percent we pretend to hate, even as we strive to become, not like them, but to be them, lording it over the rest of the world once we've pitched the current one percent overboard.

A case in point being the demonstrations against an election result, but not because it was rigged, which it very much was, the winner admitting, bragging even, of exactly that, but simply because they didn't like the result and couldn't, no matter how hard they tried, pin it on the one percent. So let's riot. Let's tear down the neighborhood. That'll show 'em. Mayhem, after all, has always proven so helpful in improving people's lives. This will not end well. What it suggests is that, as the emphasis is taken off of exporting our militarism in the name of 'Democracy' to the rest of the world, distracting us from undertaking any reform of our own, or building an infrastructure for the future, as opposed to pouring what's left of our treasure into the one proposed, one built for the past, copying the backward Chinese, fer chrissakes, then the resulting internal chaos is what we have been promised, by the Trump pets of Jericho.  And, considering the chaos we've so blithely cake-walked around the globe creating for the entirety of this century, feeling that this Wehrmacht of techno-militarism we have built around us makes us invincible from the worst excesses that the animosity of such wanton destuciveness has engendered, it is a chaos that we have most assiduously courted.