The Trump Tick

Like a tick, the longer he’s in office the more dangerous he is to our country. Nearly a year into the presidency, he has long since infiltrated the nation’s bloodstream with his poison as he bloats up from gorging on the nation’s fear and stupidity. All in plain sight, yet the country just watches as if they are fixated on a horror film at a theatre—completely detached from reality, entranced and wide-eyed while stuffing popcorn into its own face.

There’s been more than enough rationale to run Trump out of town on a rail long ago. And yet, nearly a year later, there he sits—embedded in the White House like some uninvited, blood-sucking tick. Honestly, I’m a bit worn out by the litany of causes that are asking for my money to fight this Presidency and his Republican-dominated Congress that are so blatantly fucking us over. I’m starting to think that all of this is orchestrated to simply generate money for those who oppose Trump as well, but have no real intention of ousting him. If we haven’t eliminated him by now, something tells me that those who have the power to actually pull it off aren’t truly interested.

So, I’m resigned. Whatever damage, disease, catastrophe we suffer as a result of our current “leader,” we have it coming. We deserve it, and there should be no shock when the other shoe finally drops. Because in the end, we are no better than any other country in the world that has experienced the same in the past.

Step up America, it’s time to get punched in the face really hard (and you thought 9/11 was bad). Congratulations, you’ve earned it.

The Problem with Lovers of Freedom

I’m reminded of a hangover. It’s 9:15 in the morning on July 5, 2014.

Discarded fireworks casings and packaging are strewn about the high desert of Wyoming—well, at least in one particular pull off about halfway up the Powell Airport hill that climbs Polecat Bench. As I walk by, I wonder how many other places just beyond the town proper of Powell and other Wyoming communities are suffering from the same fallout of freedom’s celebration.

The great expanses beyond any community in Wyoming (like the one described above) see very little traffic throughout the day or year. As a result, these remnants of our independence commemoration remain as an ugly reminder long after the largest of roadkills have been picked over by various scavengers—long after having rotted, dried up, and blown away by the wind.

And so I wonder, “Why do people have the need to go out to an empty place like this and light off their fireworks, only to leave the spent casings behind? Why can’t they do it in their towns where the remnants are more likely to be picked up by the street cleaner or other property owners?

Who are these people?

I think it’s wrong to generalize or stereotype about people, but it’s hard not to as I consider who would commit such a crime or sin on the land we hold so dearly in our heart—Wyoming… America… you know, “land of the free, home of the brave?”

My answer about who is responsible is dead on, although I have no proof.

The people that leave their spent fireworks casings abandoned in the desolate high desert are the same folk who leave their bullet-riddled belongings behind after shooting it up as target practice—refrigerators, 55-gallon drums, old computers, TVs… you name it. If it’s no longer needed, it’s fair game to become a target and then forsaken to an eternity as a desert eyesore.

Again, who are these people? Beyond pyromaniacs, they are banner-waving ‘Mericans who throw around clichés like, “freedom ain’t free.” They’ll proudly tell you, they love America—and the bumper stickers on their big and loud diesel, quad-cab, four-by-four pick-ups prove it. They love the U.S. and Wyoming, but they hate the President. They are the least tolerant people you’ll ever meet and you can bet they have plenty of guns to back up their narrow-minded, Fox-News-driven ideas and opinions.

But, be assured, they don’t love America. Actually they just love themselves and everything about their life. They see themselves as the center of the Universe and are the most disrespectful, self-serving and self-centered folk you will ever meet. Nevertheless, they know how to whoop it up with fireworks when the Fourth of July rolls around each year.