I, even as a rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth, knuckle-dragging Neanderthal, Attila the Hun reactionary, arch-conservative with at least three or more extra “Y” chromosomes, must refrain form gloating and “rubbing it in” in any manner whatsoever, or declaiming “I told you so!”
No, I must be above all that sort of shallow pettiness and show a great deal of humility, grace, and magnanimity, even if I am mightily tempted with a great deal of false humility and factitious insincerity, and ersatz grace and phony magnanimity, to do otherwise.
No! We must now all unite to save our great nation from this prototypical liberal socialist, this professorial, highly pedantic Neo-Marxist and glib and rather sophistic New Age Marxist, with his highly destructive presidency. Sorry ’bout that, jess couldn’t help myself.
Nevertheless I and my ilk must reach out to him and our fellow Americans and cast aside the considerable philosophic and polemical differences which divide us so greatly.
For now is the time for us not to speak out in tongues of bitter recrimination, but instead, like Polonius to Hamlet, to speak in tongues of saccharine and syrupy sweet platitudes, and likewise whisper empty platitudes of nothingness into each others’ ears.
Aren’t I…aren’t i…so nice?! In fact, aren’t I just too, too, too decent, enlightened, rational and reasonable for my own good? Aren’t I…aren’t I…just simply too liberal?
Well, barf puke…I lied! So sue me. For now is truly the time for gloating, for deep, deep, deep, profoundly irritating and annoying, grating and irksome gloating! And yeah I told you bums so and I ain’t sorry ’bout nothin’ neither. So go pound sand and eat my foul, disgusting, sordid, dirty and slimy shorts too!
Cause we won, we won, we won! You liberal, commie-lib, commie-symp jack wads. And so here’s a sincerely humble and deeply heartfelt – nah-nah-neh-nah-nahh! And a raaaazzzzz to boot, etc., ad infinitum.
But seriously what now?
Well Lucy, we got us a lot of “gub-born-ning” to do.
But how so?
Well to begin with, as I view it, the “proverbial dog” which chased the “proverbial auto” down the “proverbial street” has not only caught up with it, but has also captured it too. But only partially so.
Because we’ve only taken over one third of the driver’s seat and now we’ve got two “back-seat drivers” – the one sitting beside us with one hand on the steering wheel, still so very ideological and intransigently so; and the other in the actual backseat only slightly chastened, but I assure you dear readers, so very ready to yammer bitterly and meddle into good governance irrespective of the nation’s needs and priorities.
These two might be assigned, the one to most annoying backseat driver-in-chief status, the other to just annoying; but they’ll both be bitching and moaning, carping, complaining and kvetching all the way on an ostensibly rather long drive – all while they’re sitting right next to us.
Well what to do? I really dunno.
But stay tuned mes amis and buen amigos, cause this is gonna be one hell of a bumpy ride. So put your seat belts on and brace yourselves for the next two years – cause yah ain’t seen nothin’ yet.