Oh what a democracy we have in America! What a free and vibrant land of choices we’ve created for ourselves on the graves of more primitive civilizations. We just have so many goddamn choices to chose from, it’s enough to make a conspicuous consumer downright dizzy. We get to choose which dead-end box store to slave in for minimum wage beneath the tutelage of a 10th-grade tyrant named Chip. We get to choose between several bloodsucking insurance cartels required by the Heritage Foundation socialism of Obamacare. We get to choose which Impossible Glop fast-food franchise to slowly murder ourselves with, and if that fails to do the trick, we get to choose which caliber of bullet to snack on instead.
But best of all, every four years, our fine dystocracy allows us to pick which millionaire or billionaire will be the face of the corporate junta that runs our lives. We’re usually provided two whole choices of despotic mascot to sell empire and gobalism to the masses, with a couple more jokers too sincere to be taken seriously running on Bush League third party tickets, and this year the choices are truly divine. Such a fine representation of our diverse multicultural melting pot. We have a geriatric, degenerate, white supremacist, sex criminal and we have a geriatric, degenerate, white supremacist, sex criminal endorsed by Noam Chomsky! Our cup runneth over! Best of all, this time our two candidates for syphilitic Kevorkian in chief are providing us with the ultimate in democratic choices. Which cold war nuclear holocaust do we all want to die in! Wowee!! Let’s have ourselves a looksee, shall we?
In Joe Biden’s dusty corner we have the tried and true boogeyman of Mother Russia. Cruise missile Democrats have been pushing for war with this colossal hulk of a rust belt superpower since Kennedy was in short pants. Why fuck with a good thing now just because it’s staler than the roofied hard candy in old Joe’s basement? We’ve been on a nostalgic bender over the last decade, blaming everything that does or doesn’t go bump in the night on that Hanna-Barbera grade supervillain, Vladimir Putin. He’s fucking with the elections. He’s fucking with the thermostat. He’s breaking into your house every night and dry humping on the furniture. Haven’t you noticed that the love seat now reeks of caviar and Drakkar Noir? Worst of all, he’s committing the most heinous crime any Russkie can commit. That little almond eyed bastard is fucking defending himself. The nerve!….
We try to set up NATO Nazis in Ukraine and he welcomes Crimea back into the fold? We work so hard facilitating another bottomless Wahabi shithole two block over in Syria and he goes and props up the region’s last secular strongman? What a dick! Who the hell does this guy think he is, a world leader? It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Why couldn’t Putin be more like his mentor, Yeltsin. Washing down Washington semen with gallons of vodka and firing rockets into his own congress. Now that was a democracy CNN could get behind! Worst of all, our own current democratically elected strongman has grown sweet on Putin. Who cares if Russiagate was little more than a shoddy Tom Clancy knock-off. Who’s gonna deny Trump is a Russian agent when he’s only slapped seven-thousand new sanctions on the home base, torn up every existing missile treaty he can get his tiny baby carrot fingers on, and sent our Banderist quislings in Kiev a baker’s dozen doomsday devices? Those sound like the actions of a Manchurian candidate to me. Get him, Joe! Save us from the world’s most Russophobic Russophile.
But hold on to your horses, freedom loving patriots, because old Orange Tits over there has got himself his own cold war to pimp. A fresh, new, vibrant, sexy cold war designed for today’s frisky empire on the decline. A cold war best sold by Trump’s Secretary of Swamp, Mike Pompeo at some fertile garden party surrounded by other lively rich white people in floral hats and pressed white gloves. Mike shuffles his Gambino button man frame over to a single podium and proceeds to belch out a hoagie fart of grave warnings about the growing threat of an increasingly aggressive Chinese menace. To hear him say it, you would think the Red Army was goose stepping through the sewers of Peoria as we speak and they very well may be. After all, all the signs of an imminent threat to our precious bodily fluids are bright and garish, as John Darnielle once howled, far too many in number to ignore.
I mean, isn’t it China who’s been throwing aggressive “freedom of navigation” drills with their battleship fleet in the Gulf of Mexico, while stirring up support from our Caribbean neighbors over age old territorial water disputes? Wait, no, that’s us in the South China Sea. Well those commie bastards are sticking their boney fingers in our mess, raising an international fracas over our immigration concentration camps out in our desert hinterlands. No? That’s our game in Xinjiang, where we’re running to the aid of the same Uyghurs we once shipped off to Gitmo? OK then, well what about the millions of dollars they’ve spent propping up violent protests in Portland under the onus of supporting democracy? What about that, smart ass? No? Well then where exactly do we get off financing violent riots in Hong Kong with the National Endowment for Democracy? Jeez, when you lay it all out like that, we kind of come across as the assholes here. Well, they have been going pee pee in our Coke for years, that we know for sure, and everyone knows bats are fluent in Mandarin.
So put on your government issue tinfoil hats and pick a cold war, dearest motherfuckers, any cold war. The best thing about this kind of once in a lifetime democratic decision is that it really doesn’t matter much which one you pick. Either way we’re pushing for suicide by empire as a solution to the unthinkable fate of a multi-polar Eurasian Century. The choice has never been more dire. Just remember, if you don’t vote, not only are you a toxic garbage person that even Jesus couldn’t love, you don’t get to complain about the cannibalism when the CHUD’s come to finish off our radiated corpses. The choice is yours, dearest motherfuckers. Choose wisely.