Are We Listening?

Hello. First, an important message from Google AI that somehow, obliquely, seems to summarize the state of the union. This is verbatim, cut and pasted. There are no typos in it. It is the answer to a question I asked Google, about the ages, at death, of U.S. Presidents:

“The ages at death of US presidents have varied widely, from 46 to 100 years old.

“Youngest presidents —

• John F. Kennedy: Ass assassinated at age 46

• James Garfield: Ass assassinated at age 49”

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  If you ask me, the whole concept of “assassinating yo’ ass” is wonderful.

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Okay, today we are going to talk about the state of the union, which is in quite a state. If I had to come up with the name of the state, which I do because this is allegedly a humor column, I would call it “East North Fuckistan.” The control of the country seems to have been voluntarily handed over to a drug-addled billionaire with a nose-picking toddler literally named X Æ A-Xii, who attends press conferences, unlike reporters from the Associated Press, who have been banned because they refuse to use the term “The Gulf of America.”

The duly elected president of the United States appears to have pardoned a baldly (haha)

… criminal mayor in return for the mayor agreeing to round up swarthy-skinned undocumented persons and deporting them in chains to Panama, a country previously famous for hats and a ditch.

The situation of comical chaos has gone global. The following is literally true: A rich idiot in Wales who appears to have accidentally sent to a landfill a computer containing $800 million dollars in bitcoin, now wants to buy the landfill in order to excavate it, and will probably find the hard drive has been eaten by muskrats, which brings us back to Elon, the acting president of the United States, who has reportedly consumed more recreational drugs than your average 1960s touring funk reggae band.

So. The bigger problem is that no one in this country seems to know what the hell to do about the United States having become East North Fuckistan. We have seen nostrums proposed by our most respected nostrum-flingers in the media, but are all pathetic. “Hug your loved ones harder.” “Write to your congressperson!” And so forth. I hereby propose a few more practical nostrums.

1. Mass pooping campaigns on the front lawns of known Republicans in your neighborhood. They'll finally decide something must be done about this scourge. Women can do this without legal risk by wearing long skirts and no underpants. Actually, men can also do the same thing, if they are willing.

2. At a nationally predetermined time, every single decent American goes to his or her window, flings it open, and yells "I'm mad as hell, and I am not going to take this anymore!" and then goes back inside and flushes their toilets repeatedly.

3. Start doing weird shit for no reason, to create a national sense of existential anxiety, such as shaking people’s hands the wrong way, or referring to people you are talking to with the obviously wrong pronoun, and then saying, “oh, sorry,” and go on as though nothing had happened.

4. Create a QR code and substitute it for the QR code menu at restaurants. When people click on it, they see a cartoon of Donald Trump, naked, with a mushroom penis. It will have been drawn by Trevor Irvin, so it will be really good.

URGENT UPDATE: As this was going to press, I asked Trevor if he would actually draw such a thing — and within, like, four minutes, he did. Here it is. He says the drawing of it made him go temporarily blind.

I apologize to everyone on all of our behalfs.

Okay, that’s it for today. Here is today’s Gene Pool Gene Poll:

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