Final words on this strange shindig called a caucus. Good riddance. I mean, jeez, the caucus was done by 8 o’clock Saturday night, and by Sunday afternoon, 4 p.m., we’ve got exactly 87 percent of the results. They’re still counting and processing, 20 hours after the polls have closed? C’mon, man. Not good enough. That’s Amish shit. Ain’t gonna cut it here in the Modern Age. May this caucus be the last. Please. Costs more to have a primary? Fine. Spend the bleeping money, and let’s move on.
As we rev up discussions on the lively topic of electability, let’s remember that at this time four years ago, there was another fellow being branded as Unelectable. His name—Donald Trump.
But I sure hope Bernie doesn’t have a dealbreaker lying there in his medical records. Because after dealing with Trump’s stonewalling of any and every document that has any interest at all, a lot of us are in the mood for a bit of … transparency? Is that too much to ask?
One thing the Dem nominee can say, whether it’s Bernie or whomever, he/she’s gonna be running against a guy who—let’s face it—has some weak spots. Not that President Capone has a credibility problem.
Cred Prob, Part 2. When Dum Dum gets up there and says, “this Coronavirus situation is under control, and there’s nothing to worry about,” who the fuck would actually, you know, believe him? Who in their right mind would believe one word of anything President Pinocchio tells us about The Virus?
And speaking of the Chinese Death Plague, let’s come down off Apocalypse Mountain for a second and talk some sense. The main thing to remember about this bug is that if you’re not an old fart, you really don’t have a whole lot to worry about. Looky here. The death rate for those over 80 is a nasty 14 percent. For 70-79, it’s 8 percent. And for us sexy sexagenarians, it’s 3.6 percent. But if you’re under 60, it’s really kind of a big fat nothing burger. As in you ain’t gonna die. Hell, you won’t even get that sick. This isn’t ebola or cholera. It’s a flu. It appears to kill mostly old people, as flus and pnuemonias tend to do. But really, if you’re under 60, don’t waste a nickel on painter’s masks (and I trust you’ve heard about the man with Coronavirus who’s looking for a gal with Lyme Disease?)