I did this for Truthdig. Dig it.
That weasel is tired. Oh, so tired. It’s tired of what it has to listen to and see; it has PTSD in ways we can’t imagine.
But it has hope. It dreams of a moment before the national cameras when — alternating between self-pitying blubbering and hysterical profanity — Donny says farewell. The weasel dreams of being able, at that moment, to rise up from Donny’s head in full view of the Nation, and run away.
“We are all just prisoners here, of our own device.”
Would that it would, Dwayne – but I suspect that in perishing this government will take, if not the Earth, at the very least H sapiens sapiens with it….
Unfortunately (for them) it seems some of those strings have looped around their necks.
Even the puppet with the orange weasel on his head.
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