Do you know what I discovered today? I’M BACK! But while I was gone, finishing my third book which is due out in April, it appears that we had two defining moments as a nation:
#1. “Number 45” has shown himself to be far more horrific, narcissistic, and petulant at governing than we could have ever imagined, which means (to borrow a phrase from Game of Thrones) “winter is coming” America!
#2. Astronomers discovered a nearby solar system with seven Earth-like planets that might support life.
Yeah, I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking about moving.
I wonder if at least one of the seven planets will give me political asylum because I can foresee a time when open resistance to this administration may cause me problems. You see, I’m no longer just Eleanor “The Writer,” Eleanor “The Wife, Mother, and Grandmother,” I had to become “ET the Bee” when I joined the resistance movement recently after “he who shall not be named” started acting the fool over the past forty days.
I chose my underground resistance pseudonym because bees are the deadliest non-human animals in America. One bee may not prove to be more than a nasty inconvenience, but when combined with 99 other bees, the stings can be deadly.
I know that I am nobody, and if my words (my choice of warfare) sting at all, at this point, they are simply a nuisance. HOWEVER, when my words are added with others in the resistance (comedians, anti-Trump bloggers, and journalists with balls), they become powerful and will eventually bring down “Number 45” and his entourage—which is my hope and prayer. (I told you that I’d pray for “Number 45”—I just didn’t tell you how I’d pray for him.)
But I can see a day when our narcissistic leader starts going after bloggers like he’s going after the legit Media. (Actually, isn’t his wife already suing a blogger? Yikes!) Therefore, I’ve put together a back-up plan to apply for asylum on one of the seven new planets. If they will let me in as an Earthly alien, which might be doubtful, given our reputation in the universe.
TRAPPIST 1 SYSTEM
39 LIGHT-YEARS (235 TRILLION MILES) AWAY FROM EARTH
Dear Trappist 1 Immigration Service:
My name is Agent “ET Bee,” and I am writing you to request asylum in the event that the Looney Tunes guy who has stolen the presidency of the United States (maybe via Russia—not what I’m saying, but others are saying it—SAD!), tries to kick out any and everyone who attempts to speak truth to power or who attempts to shake our citizens out of their foggy thinking.
I have no idea how much of the Earth’s history you know, but we’ve been here before. The first sign of a wannabe dictator is that they try to silence their critics. It then follows with the dictator denying the Press access to information (sending them to Siberia), then imprisoning them, and finally killing them. That way the dictator can present himself any way he chooses without pesky challenges.
As a resistance movement agent, I am engaged in the fight to keep “Number 45” (my name for him because I refuse to add the respectful word of “president” to the last name of a liar, pussy grabber, and womanizing, thrice-married, twitter-addicted, bromancer of Vladimir Putin) from becoming normalized and acceptable in the American psyche. Last week, at least 60% of Americans did not consider “Number 45” to be our legitimate president. Hillary Clinton won the popular vote by 3 million more people, and the orange orangutan won the presidency with 304 Electoral College votes, which I’m sure you think that system is really antiquated and quite amusing. The end result was that the majority would like to have a do-over and those who voted for him were slowly waking up with buyer’s remorse.
That was until last night when “Number 45” gave a speech to the joint session of Congress and actually acted presidential. Did you watch it? He was (for the most part) positive in tone and he didn’t talk about his poll numbers or his enemies, the Media. Today, 76% of those polled approve of his speech and feel like maybe they can relax and everything will be just fine.
Alien brothers and sisters, this is where the slip-and-slide into Hell begins.
My peeps from another solar system, Trump was reading a practiced speech (he was seen going over it in the back of his limo) from a teleprompter that multiple speech writers had written. Don’t be fooled by it. Don’t listen to what he says—watch what he does to know where we’re headed as a country. Don’t be fooled by his calm manner—his actions for the past 41 days do not support what you saw.
Also, dear aliens, check out the creatures who surround him and whisper in his ear—day in and day out. The Alt-Right, anti-Semitic slug, Steve Bannon’s actions belie Trump’s speech before Congress regarding his sudden concern about the rise of anti-Semitism and hate crimes in America.
I will stay on Earth as long as I can to sting and agitate “Number 45” as often as I must in order to get my fellow Americans to wake up and resist this creature who should never have become our president. In the meantime, Dear Aliens, it would be best if you not send representatives to the United States (or anywhere else on our warring planet) in the immediate future because we are pretty fucked up as a species, and our leader just might gather you up and deport you to Mexico.
Until our next communication,
Signed: ET, the Bee!
ELEANOR’S SELAH (“AHA” MOMENT) ABOUT TRUMP’S QUASI STATE OF UNION SPEECH
I am discovering that we Americans are being lulled to sleep—like lobsters in a kettle who get used to tepid water turning into a boiling death. One minute they’re moving around in their watery grave—high-fiving one another—the next minute they are dinner.
AMERICA, LISTEN TO ME: “Number 45” is an actor—a reality TV star. He holds a Screen Actor’s Guild membership card. There was no there, there during the “State of the Union” speech. He was “playing” normal. You saw a performance artist act as the president of the United States during the quasi State of the Union. If you mistake that show as reality, you’ll be purchasing a one-way ticket to Trappist 1 System along with my fictional character by the time Trump’s term is over because you won’t recognize our country. We will not be great, we’ll be 1984 part deux.
Oh, and as to the shameless and deplorable way he exploited the widow of Navy SEAL William “Ryan” Owens, which so many pundits are applauding, this is how you know what kind of human we’re dealing with here: Trump used this woman’s grief to cover up the fact that he ordered a military operation that failed and is being challenged by many—including Owens’ father who refused to meet with Trump when his son’s body was returned to the States. The buck stops at the President’s desk as Harry Truman once said, but Trump has blamed the failure of the raid on Obama (“Obama planned it before he left, I just followed his lead”) and the military (“they lost Ryan, not me”) while waving the incense thurible of a widow’s broken-hearted tears to cloud our minds and make us forget his culpability as Commander in Chief. The only time Trump veered off script and spoke in his “own words” which showed his true colors—his penchant for applause and adulation—was when he made that cringe-worthy statement to Owens’ widow as she sobbed while looking up to the heavens. “Ryan is looking down right now, you know that, and he’s very happy, because I think he just broke a record,” said our very manipulative and cynical president. (I assume “Number 45” meant Owens broke a record of applause for someone at a State of the Union address.) Yeah, that’s just what Navy SEAL Owens was thinking as he looked in from the Great Beyond at his beautiful broken family: “Shit, my applause lasted longer than Spencer Stone of Sacramento, California (staff sergeant in the US Army who helped stop a terrorist attack on a train in Europe) at last year’s State of the Union with President Obama. Hot damn that certainly was worth getting killed for and destroying my family in the process.”
“We are one people, with one destiny… The time for small thinking is over. The time for trivial fights is behind us. We just need the courage to share the dreams that fill our hearts.” This was one of the more poetic phrases in Trump’s speech that I would love to embrace. I suppose that means no more nasty tweets against Saturday Night Live, Meryl Streep, and Arnold Schwarzenegger, or against anybody who doesn’t like him, or against any journalist who is getting too close to his relationship with his boyfriend, Vlad. If “Number 45” will stop tweeting vicious, petulant messages, maybe I’ll start to believe his beautiful, scripted words, but until then…
“This speech [Trump’s address to Congress] will get very positive reviews. But remember—government isn’t a speech [emphasis=mine]. Today, before this speech, with little fanfare, Trump signed into law an NRA-backed bill that will allow more mentally ill people to buy guns. And remember, there is still Russia. That is not going and cannot go away.”– Michael Tomasky, The Daily Beast/ Donald Trump Finally Sounds Presidential. For 60 Minutes
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