The Second Civil War has come to an end. It was a battle of wits. Our opponents were unarmed.
Yes, the beleaguered Trump's pernicious summoning of the specter of civil war is reprehensible, irresponsible, dangerous, as stupid and nasty as everything else he's done. For a slimy mob boss already haplessly caught in multiple traps of his own inept making - he seems nice - it's also brazenly impeachable. Almost as good - oh sweet mockery - it's irresistible to the wiseacre wags on Twitter, which God clearly designed for the blasphemous likes of this (if anything.) Having left behind the joys of Revolutionary War airport jokes, we are now gifted with blogs on "What To Wear to the Civil War, Impeachment Style" and the splendid hashtags #secondcivilwarletters and #CivilWarSignup, full of grisly tales of windmill cancer, smocking guns, Hamberder Hill, retreats to the Waffle House, Generals Pelosi/Schiff, Capt. DeNiro, UberEat blockades, Bowling Green battles, logic and reason in short supply, the mind of General Cray Cray "turning in on itself," Major Giuliani employing the new weapon “Denial-Non Denial” gas, MAGA troops stymied by the difference between "your" and "you're," and our own noble troops running low on pumpkin spice latte.
To wit: "Mother, I was recruited by the #AntifaDomesticTerrorists Division. We made Soros Cakes from the Deep State cookbook. We've joined forces with the Bowling Green Brigade and march on MAGA's Forest Rakers. Gen. Clinton leads us....Dear Mama, I only have a liddie’ covfefe left. All of our good Christian men are out of wife beaters (covered in blood) and red suspenders. The only camp we have is near the windmill, which our #TraitorTrump says will give us cancer...We attempted to arrest for treason the traitorous Adam Schiff. However, he beat the men about the head with a rolled up copy of the Constitution, and the men were helpless to defend themselves. We are regrouping at Chick-Fil-A...Dearest Martha, We are ordered to assemble - we march, but we don't know where (perhaps Greenland)? We've been promised as many energy drinks as we want, but we've also been told we should 'lawyer up' (??). We ride....Dearest Annabel, I do so miss moving on you like a bitch. Our troops are in disarray. The president we so eagerly defended is a cabbage head. He is all hat and no cattle. We are out of covfefe. I fear I’ve made a grave mistake....Dear Mable, We try to be brave, but the enemy has sent 16 year old Swedish girls against our lines, and we have retreated to the Waffle House...Remember us." And onward, comrades.
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