providing chatty commentary for Toad’s Wild Ride as if this were a normal day. Nothing against Lester, Chuck, and the solemn blonde woman who replaced Savannah (sorry, I don’t watch much TV). But I can’t listen to anymore comparative statistics, informative details from the research team, historical anecdotes as background to the advance of an armored tin can holding a nihilistic rotten sardine. At least there are folks along the parade route booing … they know what time it is.
It’s the worst day in modern American memory. Goodbye, Lester, Chuck, and Not Savannah. I’m off to brave the rain and join my wet brother and sister protestors in downtown Los Angeles. And to say hi to the skate boys in their ski masks. If this keeps up, I might help them burn a car one of these days. Or at least decide to look the other way.
None of what is happening on this Inaugural Day is business as usual. None of it is okay. And to pretend that any of it is normal – even if only through one segment from hairspray commercial to cheeseburger paid ad, let alone a whole TV day and night – is grotesque.