Cognitive Dissent

Donnie Drumpf Takes a Dump

If Frank Zappa were still alive, he’d still be working on the master idea behind the project object, maybe even recycle Dickie’s Such An Asshole, but I’d much rather see a contemporary version of Bobby Brown. Maybe Dweezil would like to try.

Hey there, people, I'm Donnie Drumpf
I can tweet out a shitstorm just taking a dump
My hands are huge, my teeth is shiney
I tell all the liberals they can kiss my heinie
Here I am a great president*
I'm doing my hair using Fixodent
I got a house leader here wants to help with the Russians
Let him do all the work for loose change found in the cushions

Oh God I am the American dream
You do not think I'm too extreme
Way much better than that lying bitch
And if you do what I say you gonna get real rich

(Don’t you get
Don’t you get
Don’t you get
Don’t you get fired)

Russian globalization
Was a growing fascination
I tell you people it wasn’t just the liquor
When I fucked this spy by the name of Victor

He made a little pitch there,
And he tried to sell me on Vlad
He had my balls in a vice, but he left the dick
I guess it's still hooked on, but now it shoots too quick

Oh God I am your American leader
The very best of everything you have to offer
But I'm a miserable son of a bitch
Is it polls or the ratings, I don't know which

(I wonder wonder
Wonder wonder)

So out I went and bought a red power tie
I jingle my change, and you don’t care that I lie
Got this job by saying in the open
What you whisper in the hall and it’s got your hatred hoping

Eventually Vlad and me and some friends
Sorta drifted along into S&M
I can take about an hour on the tower of power
As long as I gets a little golden shower

Oh God I am the American dream
With a Russian up my butt till it makes me scream
But I'll do anything however bad
I lay awake nights saying, "Thank you, Vlad!”

Oh God, oh God, I'm the very very best!
Thanks to Vlad, I can rule the west
And my name is Donnie Drumpf
Read me now, while I take a dump,
And my name is Donnie Drumpf
Listen now, you gonna feel the bump
And my name is Donnie Drumpf
Watch me now, as I commence to hump...

Forty mice researchers will study...

I was scanning a piece on the latest Space-X mission to the international space station (ISS) and my eyes suddenly fixed on these words: “40 mice researchers will study,” and my mind stuck right there. It could have misinterpreted ISS as ISIS and spiraled out into an imaginary multiiverse where it turns out that Muslims have gotten around Trump’s travel harassment but taken up extraterrestrial travel to avoid airport screeners, but I got stuck instead on the mice researchers. 

“They’re teaching mice how to use Survey Monkey in space?” I wondered. “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to do that on Earth with a good landline?” It seemed preposterous to me that Elon Musk would so cavalierly squander shareholder money to send mice researchers into space and house them once they got there. What could they possibly learn up there that a few cheap domestic liberal arts graduate students couldn’t figure out by dissecting a few dozen mice researchers?

I was about to fire off a blog post on one of my left-leaning far-right wingnut self-service blogging sites to incite peace, love, and misunderstanding, when I went back and noticed that a simple punctuation misstep had stopped me short of the words that changed my perception completely.

“...a manifest that includes 40 mice researchers will study to learn about bone healing in microgravity,,,

Once I inserted a comma between “mice” and “researchers,” it was clear that researchers (presumably) would be studying the mice, who would then cease any research they might have undertaken on their own. Still, even with that understanding, I’m sure there are cheaper ways to figure how to heal a broken mouse leg without leaving the surface of the planet. Beyond that, I’m sure in some cases you wouldn’t have to be on the surface. A basement would do just fine to experiment on breaking and repairing mice bones.

You could build a microgravity chamber in your basement these days for the cost of a home podcast studio, but I’m getting off topic. I think.

I’m not sure. I’m never certain. I don’t believe. But I think.

In a previous life I was on the CIMA Product Safety Council

It was a much easier job than hanging turkeys at the Ralston Purina plant in Springdale, Arkansas. In fact, I don’t remember much about my duties or responsibilities beyond attending a couple of conferences and talking with other people who worked for companies that only cared about product safety to minimize their liability when one of their products contributed to the death of a future Trump supporter. You think people only recently became dumber than fenceposts? Shame on you.

One of my favorite parts of working in product safety was designing safety warnings and instructions that I suspected no one really paid attention, because that’s the American Way. It’s what makes us great, which goes a long way toward explaining what current president* and toxic shock precipitant Donnie Osymandias Drumpf means by establishing a new Amerikan Reich.

Here’s a nifty poster you can print and hang in your own workplace to inspire you the way middle management often does while making you hide your involuntary cringe.

Sanity poster CD


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