nojo

Rejected Slogans

The Bridge to the Future Was a U-Turn

  • We Won’t Frighten the Shit Out of You
  • A Slightly Less Abrupt Dystopian Future
  • Mailbox Full

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I, Toady

Yes, Mr. Trump.

And the winner is…

Wait. Not Newt? Darn.

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America’s Latest Mass Shooting

Stairway to Hell.

It’s understandable, perhaps even inevitable, how Thursday night’s events have been framed, and how the consequences are playing out. We have to think back to our early childhood in the Sixties to find such a perfect storm of racial and police tension.

Except it’s not that.

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No Exit

What kind of fools are we?

In the week since the Brexit vote, we’ve read a number of analyses about why the Brits — or Little Englanders, to be more specific — chose to secede from the European Union, and what that portends for the world’s current English-speaking empire.

Not to put too fine a point on it: They’re White. And they’re angry.

From there, comparisons with current United States politics are straightforward. We’ll even grant that they’re true. But we find them insufficient.

The broader picture is more historical, and more complicated. Two forces are at play here, one inevitable, the other deliberate: Globalization and Thatcherism — or, as we know the latter, Reaganism.

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The Samizdat Sit-In

America’s Superhero.

There’s a certain frustration that sets in after every mass shooting. We’re all too familiar by now with the dance that follows: Thoughts & Prayers, consoling words from the President, recitations of the history of gun violence in America, condemnation of the NRA for perverting the Second Amendment like extremists pervert Islam.

And then, always, nothing.

Really: If shooting up a grade school or a church doesn’t lead to reform, why should anything else?

The Senate filibuster to force an inevitably losing vote on a couple of weak measures was a fine gesture — truly — but destined to be forgotten, filed away even as it happened with Ted Cruz’s earlier Green Eggs and Ham marathon. The moment had passed, and we were back to our general dread of a Clinton-Trump race.

And then John Lewis stepped up.

Or, rather, sat down.

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The 2012 San Diego Fireworks Implosion as Metaphor for a Trump-Gingrich Ticket

Look, we know we’re tempting Fate here, that Donald Trump’s election may be the spark that launches our planet into Your Favorite Cinematic Dystopian Hellscape, that the only acceptable attitudes among Responsible Adults are scorn and dismay…

But: We can’t help it. The merest rumor that Trump might choose Newt Gingrich for veep fills us with the kind of joy that’s only attainable by driving a convertible at full speed off a scenic cliff, and freezing the frame before the part that ruins the moment.

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We Interrupt This Slaughter for a Gun-Safety Video

We can’t think of a damn thing to say about the same damn thing happening again, so let’s watch Sam Bee say something instead.