We will know

Pretty sure most of us have seen this. 

It's from a Simpsons episode -- known for their uncanny predictions about the future -- written in the 1990's, about the burial of our current president on April 12, 2025. Sadly, the funny guys and probably one funny token woman, were wrong. 

I make no bones about dreaming of the day when the oxygen on this planet is returned to the 9 billion living breathing human beings and no longer hogged or consumed by this Anti-Democracy Hellbeast.

I know this is a sentiment shared by many. Mostly people with operable brain function.

Last weekend while on an absolute beautiful early Spring day, we found ourselves on the bike path from Ventura to Ojai. I probably shouldn't mention this path lest it get too popular. But it is the kind of public recreational expenditure we need more of. That is, taxpayer money being used to better the lives of the folks that pay the taxes.

While returning on the mostly downhill slope from Ojai back to the sea, I thought, "we've been out of contact with the real world for close to three hours, what if the fascist fuckknuckle expired? We wouldn't even know it!"  

And then I realized the fallacy of that thought.

Because the inarguable truth is, there are so many people looking forward to him no longer being in our lives (and bulldozing the pillars of the American Experiment). As a testament to that, my current social media pages are flooded with all kinds of clever manifestations of 8647. 

Here are some of my handmade memes.

None of these are threatening. Or hint of violence as he claims was the intent of James Comey's sea shells. 

Sea shells!

Nor is anyone summoning a political opponent to face a firing squad, as he did towards outspoken Liz Cheney.

All of which leads me to believe that if the good lord were to call this festering fleshbag of ignorance and toxicity home, there would be much rejoicing in the streets.

The noise of which would easily reach the newly repaved bike path that meanders through the bucolic hills of Eastern Ventura and Southern Ojai.

Moreover, I believe, cars on the nearby Ojai Freeway, would pull over to honk their horns, scream with ecstasy and break out in song. I'm thinking the ditty will come from the Wizard of Oz. And there can be no doubt it's when the news is sprung on the Munchkinland.

That my friends will be Liberation Day.