Our lives, ZED, if we're collectively smarter and luckier than when so many of our fellow Americans decided to take the pill and swallow the brew, thereby condemning all of us to participating in their swirling dystopian fantasies now writ so large and murderously across the national landscape.

Our fortunes? Transferred to the oligarchs.

Our sacred honor? Fuhgedaboudit. Gone.

Probably not.

Driving a pickup with a big Mexican flag flapping at the back: ICE fishing.

Preparing for Trump's trademarked brand of dumbfookery in Mexico?

Citizens rebuking the insanity of Trump and his enablers and lackeys.
More integrity on that grand jury than in the entire GOP congressional membership.

Who's in charge of Old Yeller's medications?

Reminded me of a line in Cornelius Ryan's D-Day classic Tne Longest Day:

On another ship [heading to the coming landong], members of the Canadian 3rd Division held an amateur night with assorted recitations, jigs and reels and choral offerings. Sergeant James Percival "Paddy" de Lacy of the King's Regiment became so emotional listening to the "Rose of Tralee" played on the bagpipes that he forgot where he was and stood up and offered a toast to Ireland's Eamon de Valera for "keepin' us out of the war."

When Trump comments on athletics consider that from a standing/slumped position he cannot see his toes.

"One of these days, Alice... Pow! Straight to the moon!"

Trump would have mocked Jesus as a loser and billed him for the nails.