Celebrate the Election with me
Alright here’s the plan. It’s an election year. Year of the buffoon, according to the American calendar. One of the most valueless and uninspiring presidential elections of our time. Hilary Clinton versus Donald Trump. The internet has dubbed it bag of tarantulas v. bag of scorpions. We’re leaned over as a nation, the red-white-blue fuck machine thrusting hard, inching in our direction.
Non-coincidently, we also have the pleasure of living in the pity party era. An age of over-sensitivity. The recreationally offended class growing more mouthy and pathetic by the minute. It’s also a time of distress. Real and exaggerated. By the power of the internet and so many voices, everything has become convoluted. Protests on top of protests. Boycotts of the protest. Protesting the boycotts. Trolls pretending to dress as protesters. A clusterfuck of unfocused dissent. A nation nagging so loudly that legitimate complaints have become entangled with the nonsense.
Fuck protesting. It doesn’t work. It’s easily dismantled with firehoses and attack dogs. It’s bent like a paperclip by the media. It’s helpless and helplessness never helped anything.
This year, my proposed reaction to the overtly corrupt political system — I say we celebrate. Fuck it. Why waste time with pickets and magic markers? What good is standing out it the cold, making too much unintelligible noise, becoming easy stationary targets? Enough of that antiquated Red Coat, marching into gunfire, strategy.
No more gagging on the sautéed government issued dick because it’s the customary political meal. This election year we will celebrate. November 8th 2016. A day that will live on, not in infamy, but in obnoxious celebration. In honor of this day, we’re not going to take to the streets shouting and pouting. We’re going to make parties, smoke joints, mix drinks, crush beers, dance, sing, paint ourselves silly with jubilation.
When dictator Kim Jong-il died, the North Korean people went dramatically sour. They cried, they balled, thew themselves to the ground in mourning. Was any of it genuine? Of course not. If they were’t distraught enough, they’d be punished by their shitty dictatorship. YouTube it if you don’t believe me. It’s gold. But for the wrong reasons.
We’re going to do the exact opposite of that weak, terrified North Korean bullshit. Party. Like true fucking Americans. Over the top, loud and proud, bash of the ages. Turn the speakers up. Fake the funk. I don’t give a shit. Get dressed up, go out, go nowhere, take selfies. Tell the world you’re celebrating the 45th president of the completely non-corrupt, perfectly democratic United States of America.
We need some sort of cohesive Freak Party-esq hashtag. Something to tie the whole gag together. No more of this crying for being wronged. The majority of the United States citizens do not want either candidate. That’s no secret. And if they’re going to stuff them down our throats, lets chew it with a big shit-eating grin.
If you needed more proof on how much of a charade the entire presidential election is, maybe it’s too late for you. It’s an extravagant waste of hundreds of millions of dollars. All to continue the path of a corporate undermined, faulty government. The DMV, the war on drugs, all the way up the filthy and blatantly ludicrous ladder of government spending.
This election, we’ll throw it right in their fucking faces. Maybe it works. Maybe it does nothing. Either way, partying beats the shit out of crying and protesting. It’s a celebration bitches. Flood social media. Vote for the bag of tarantulas or vote for the bag of scorpions. Or chose not to vote for either of those devious puppets. It doesn’t fucking matter. November 8th, the party is on. This is our big, dumb, grinning, Trojan Horse.
We really have to make them believe the people are ecstatic. Watch moronic news outlets display trending polls on the unprecedented “approval” the bag of shit election. We’ll figurea hashtag…#perfectdemocracy2016 or #perfectHillary2016 or #pefectTrump2016 or #freakparty….I don’t know. But we all have to use the same tag. Ce-le-brate good times…come on!
I need your help. Comment ideas for hashtags.
-Grunt Words