The Election was rigged

Oh no, another book review.

I know, I know. These are probably my least popular posts on RoundSeventeen, following closely behind that time I wrote about coming up with a 100 euphemisms for making a doody. But I'm recovering (hopefully, because I'm writing this in advance of Monday's surgery) and blissfully enjoying the weapons grade narcotics I have been given by the surgical staff.

Admittedly, I'm not that great with book reviews. Never have been. 

I know there's a format for these things, but I never bothered to learn it. It's kind of useless to learn a 1-2-3 step process when as a high school student you refuse to adhere to the first step: Read the book.

If memory serves, and often it doesn't, I did manage to deliver colorful book reports even when I hadn't cracked the binding. I chalk that up to my youthful energy and my innate ability to get an easy group laugh. All of which explains how I skated through high school, college and even my early days as a copywriter. Never putting in the effort I know I should have.

But I digress.

I tore through this book. Making quick work of its leviathan 517 pages. I'd cite you specific passages but there are far too many to recall. What's more interesting is the way the authors craft the timeline from the beginnings of the Covid crisis and weaved their way through the failure after failure, through the campaign missteps, the post election debacle and the Insurrection that bent our Democracy to the breaking point.

Three characters stand out:

Alex Azar, the sycophant Secretary of Health who selfishly put his career above all else, including the lives of 600,000 Americans now taking the Covid Dirt Nap.

Bill Barr, a devilish snotweasel who was willing to carry Precedent Shitgibbon's dirty water until the very end when, sniffing the events that would follow, made a hasty weeble wobble for the exit door in Late December 2020.

And JCOS Mike Milley -- an unsung hero, who single handedly held down the fort and stood in the way of our collective demise.

If I could make Trumpsters read one book, this would be it. But they don't read. And even if they did they'd chalk the whole thing up to "Fake News", "Lamestream Media" or some other sobriquet popularized by imbeciles in right wing media to erode any notion of TRUTH.

Of course the protagonist in the book, in this case the antagonist, is clearly Grandpa Ramblemouth, who is nothing but consistent. Dropping the meat in the dirt at every turn. Flipping every crisis on its head to score cheap political points. And always, I mean ALWAYS, putting one life, his, above 330 million American lives.

Ironically, my favorite part of the book is the Epilogue, which I normally don't read. But in this case it's a must. 

After the manuscript had been submitted, our former SOTUS, Schmuck of the United States of America, invited the authors down to Mara Lago, where he now presides over the Omelet Bar and misguided Floridians hosting wedding receptions. And after a calamitous year, perhaps the worst in all of American politics, he pathetically plays on the same old song like a turntable endlessly spinning towards the label.

It's downright laughable in the signature Trumpian way we've all come to know all too well.

"The election was rigged...I won...massive widespread fraud...I should be on Mt. Rushmore."

I can't wait until this asshat is feeding the worms.