So, Donald Trump pays no income tax, doesn't have nearly as much money as he says he does, and his entire "university" was a farce to fleece people out of money they didn't have.
Of course we also know he's a misogynist, a racist, a liar, and hasn't got the slightest clue as to how to run a country.
And here's the really sad part- his followers don't care a bit. He's gamed the system! He's cheated and lied his way to the top, he says whatever he wants to say and doesn't give a shit, he's cruel and obviously not that smart and he's the big Big Daddy who says, "Because I say so! Now go to bed!"
Finally! A candidate people can relate to!
That would be racist, not very smart, fearful, misogynistic people who don't want to actually think about things like international relations, the death of our planet, the rights of others, diplomacy, economics, or actually, anything that might tax the brain the tiniest bit.
He's going to make America GREAT again.
Or, as my friend Togi said, "He's going to make America white again."
Okay. That's what I think.
It makes me so sad and so angry and so despairing.
Here's another thing I'm thinking about- all of the media attention and fierce debate and word slinging about the incident with the gorilla who was shot when a boy fell into its enclosure.
I'm not going to give an opinion on that. I frankly don't know enough to comment. But I find it deeply disturbing that we are all focusing on that while almost 900 migrants and refugees drowned in the Mediterranean Sea last week, a headline that swiftly fell off the map while the gorilla incident still rages.
We humans can only wrap our heads around so much and it's so much easier to sign a petition or hurl some opinions about a gorilla who was shot while trying to either kill or protect a human child than trying to understand why people are risking their lives to escape violence and save their families and dying in the attempt.
We are all guilty of focusing on things that distract us from painful realities.
I am as guilty of that as anyone on so many levels.
Well, perhaps all of life is a series of things we do to distract ourselves from the very fact that one day we'll die. I do not know. I do know that I may have scarred Gibson for life yesterday. He was snuggled up in my lap and Owen and I were discussing my parents and I said that my father was dead.
"He's deaded?" asked Gibson.
"Yes," I said.
"What deaded him?"
"He got deaded from being very old." (Partially true, not really but hey! Gibson's four.)
"I gonna get old?" he asked me, his eyes wide with the sudden knowledge that this could happen.
"Yes, baby," I said. "But not for a long time."
"I going to get deaded?"
Oh Lord. Where is this child's mother?
"We all die, baby. It's okay. You won't get old or die for a very, very long time."
I am not certain he was reassured at all, although I held him to me and kissed his head.
And so it goes. One moment, one day, we face that truth and then we face the truth that those we love will also die.
But don't worry about it. Because I said so. Go to bed!
I believe I will go take a walk now. I hope it doesn't dead me.