Hassled by Law

The one thing humans have learned is that government can only interfere.  To be fair, it is good at that.  Feel free to ignore the consistency of examples if you like surprises, but it seems masochistic. The surest way to fix problems is to pretend these ornery terrorists won’t kill us, presuming we avoid drowning in debt first. It’s hard to support a properly-restrained apparatus without first learning it’s an option.  I credit public schools.  Perhaps more funding would help whippersnappers entrusted to the same government.  A monopoly on molding kids who turn into appalling adults offers another fine example.

A good president would be bored, and not in the golf-as-a-vocation denial only the commander-in-chief can presently afford.  Barack Obama needs to distract himself from the troubles caused by whoever’s president.  The stubborn fool should’ve learned by now to stop attempting to manage the entire economy from the Oval Office.  Some future pleasant president will hopefully heed the example of this astounding mismanagement and properly limit the job’s scope.  Check that the tax rate remains flat hourly and Skype foreign leaders while tapping a revolver on the desk.  Add in cutting ribbons at any new Jimmy John’s locations, and a shrewd president would earn the right to clock out at 5.

Modesty would help, especially for an incumbent and successor with much for which to be humble.  The right to make decisions on how to best use what you earn should be implied. Revoking it creates unnecessary agony that enough people apparently enjoy.  Hey: stick with whatever turns you on.  Just stop inflicting freaky desires on others.  The head of state should set an example of letting everyone float their own boats.  Instead, we get a presidential foreman trying to fuel the machinewith looted currency and positive vibes.

Trying to name a federal program that’s made people richer is tricky, so just assume it happens.  Approach the problem with wholesale faith which is sure to be rewarded.  We must quash thoughts that all our masters do well is irk.  Otherwise, the cargo will never be delivered to the cult. Liberalism is theocracy where worship is never rewarded unless you can afford a dull meeting with the Clintons.

Government’s inherently bothersome nature explains why its few successes involve restraining human activity.  After all, it can only force.  Securing borders, imprisoning felons, and pointing nuclear-tipped missiles at mouthy tinpot despots are good examples of force preventing naughtiness. A kind leader would use the power of hassling against troublemakers, leaving the well-behaved to pursue interests and interact with others doing same.  Here on Planet Stupid, we try to bribe bullies.

An election where every criticism could be aimed at either side is convenient in its way.  But it’d be better to have more options than when selecting the Politburo.  For now, neither party recognizes that the government’s granted wishes teach lessons about ruing catches added by genies. Ideally, at least one side would pretend to step out of the way.  Exhausted citizens would settle for a straddle. The only steps are taken to rearrange boots on our necks.  No, it’s not to ensure we can breathe better.

Counting on the president to dispense happiness like Pez leads to sour stomachs.  Buy your own sweets.  Relying on one person is the whole problem, especially with the person we have now and the two people who sadly compete to take his place.  Notice how those who promise to make life perfect make it horrifying if you need more cruel irony in your day.

Big talk with no good action seems to be a common trait among those with scant accomplishments despite boasts, hmmmm.  Let’s never pick up on patterns, as such skepticism interferes with the ability to obey specific instructions to obtain earthly bliss.  The next Powerball ticket will be the one that breaks the string.

Ignore that nagging feeling from childhood about how easy promises end up hurting hard.  You were just a dumb kid.  Grown-up you should think of how the election will enrich you, ensure pain is eradicated, and help you lose that last five pounds of doughnut indulgence.  That’s the mature approach.  Why remember the puberty’s travails?  People get way smarter as they age, I’ve heard.

A wise adolescent would be learning that election benefits ought to be indirect.  The lack of legal interference as you pursue a career means tough work, which is why so many suckers attempt the easy path. A truly effective president would tell you there’s no avoiding sweat while personally toiling to reduce the fear of ordinary Americans being slaughtered at the office.  Those least qualified to be arrogant are the most likely to exhibit it.  It’s fine to nominate dunces as long as they realize their limitations.  Prototypical fools think they can cure foolishness.  See if modesty sets in after another four damn years.


Political Synonyms

Republicans are not conservatives.  Can we at least learn one thing from an election that’s worth zero?  The coincidental overlap is no longer frequent enough to be considered a trend.  Donald Trump is the natural result of an unholy process.  Political parties are now random tribes, with pesky membership requirements like principles discarded.  One seems to like the Pledge of Allegiance more, but distinctions between factions throwing rocks at each other are otherwise absent.  They do know they hate each other.

The refusal to stand for anything approaching constitutional can’t precisely be considered a trait of small-government backers.  Our nation’s rulebook has that whole respect for limits and all.  But the document is almost 8,000 words with amendments, and reading the equivalent of a book chapter doesn’t appeal to a very literate candidate who can’t put together a coherent tweet.

Give Trump a break: the only reason he won’t make the case for natural rights is on account of how he’s unaware they exist.  If that makes him seem like a poor choice for a presidential candidate, well, think about that during the next nomination process.  Who can restrain themselves when there are others to jostle?  A kind and benevolent wannabe despot sees nothing but a chance to seize power, which is especially appalling for someone with a track record of flaccidity.  If you’re serious about pitching opportunity to every single voter, don’t nominate the worst person possible to do so.

Bitching that conservative politicians have done nothing is a popular hobby among those whose accomplishments consist of watching and frowning. It’s hard to notice the baby not crying on the flight, but try to sense what troubles were avoided.  Above all else, inattentive observers apparently haven’t learned from 2016 that everything can get worse.  There’s no reason to experience pain if you can’t use it as training to avoid future ache.

All that screaming drowned out those noting modest accomplishments. Congressional Republicans have tied a tourniquet that cut off the bleeding, and all some purported conservatives can do is bitch about the numb limb.  Note that Marco Rubio interdicted on Obamacare bailouts to a Rush Limbaugh listener in order to prompt confusion. Thinking out scenarios doesn’t appeal to diehard remaining Dittoheads.  There mad they were set up with Mitt, so they’re going to marry a mental patient.  Nominating a power-mad phony autocrat to John McCain’s left is really showing the establishment.

A posing favor purchaser merely confirms Republicans aren’t pro-business.  Whether by nominating statists or an inability to please customers, the campaign backs up every suspicion about the lack of mutual interests.

Going meek nationally is exactly the wrong strategy.  The party doubles down on feebleness at a bankrupt gambling hall. Don’t let Trump’s bluster fool you: he’s even more spineless than the typical presidential nominee.  Saying whatever the crowd wants to hear is the opposite of bluntness.  A cursory look at his business record would show it’s habitual.  He’s rather inept at pleasing customers despite acting like they’re always right.  There’s no better place to watch the USFL championship than Trump Plaza.

Republicans will remain doomed nationally until they find a candidate willing to murder every federal agency that crosses the path. Instead, they face a massive loss without standing for principles, which doesn’t seem like a win-win.  Mangle conservative positions worse than Stephen Colbert does while standing to Hillary’s left for maximum results.  The nominee calls for federal action every time he’s nailed down if you thought he was unprincipled.  Trump is not like Walter Mondale: nobody was beating Reagan.  By contrast, any 35-year-old naturally-born citizen able to tie shoes and politely identify half of the government to murder would’ve beaten Hillary.  Also, I’d eat lunch with Mondale.

It’s no fun to watch a Super Bowl between the Patriots and Cowboys, as there should be at least one team to not hate.  The GOP is Dallas, as this just isn’t their season yet again.  You’d think a party with a vague connection to appreciating commerce would want to act differently just for contrast’s sake.  The syndicate would be better off losing like Goldwater while letting the world know there’s an option aside from loving Big Brother.  But this is a special year.  Also, “special” can refer to a volcano that only devastates a continent once per century.

Republicans are about to be trounced a staggering margin without establishing worthwhile principles.  It’s truly the best of both worlds.  Instead of making the case that self-reliance is a fun adventure that’s also legal, the ever-visionary Party of Hoover figured voters wanted a crabbier warlord.  If anyone interested was sincere about embracing free markets, they could start by setting an example about pursuing the best choices.

Getting Bossed

It’s hard for those who profess hatred of politicians to maintain it while being exploited by them.  Getting played by non-athletes means you’re not about to make the Olympics, so ditch that grueling training regimen.  Sports success results from recognizing patterns, like being suckered by the same promises every election.  Watching all that college football was training to learn about life.

Getting stepped on is going to remain grueling until one learns from the doormat treatment.  There’s no honor in being used to scrape shoes.  It’s not good for souls.  But maybe the next person to rub dirt into you will do so out of respect.  Like getting burned by a charlatan speaking in technicalities to hide corruption or explaining why the loser media reported that a closed business failed, this time will be different.

Check your potential messiah’s track record.  I know it seems like a betrayal of faith.  But there’s nothing supernatural about these quite fallible choices.  A self-alleged big shot can’t help you if he’s unable to keep his enterprises open.  Trump appeals to seething trolls who’ve long since forgotten the possibility of self-help. Let’s fight the establishment with a picture whore whose biggest claim to fame is making semi-celebrities succeed at goofy tasks in a way he never has.

Saying so makes it so.  At least, Trump has convinced an influential sliver it’s true.  The curtain is unraveling, probably because he had it made in China like his tissue-thin shirts. He’s most famous for telling you he didn’t screw up despite the smoldering ruins behind him.  Trump would commandeer the Pac-Man joystick and lose your quarter to the ghosts in 10 seconds. I’m sure he’s quite honestly claimed to see the crazy screen on level 256.  A guy whose entire shtick revolves around his purported fondness for the art of the deal won’t let you make one.

Hillary is uniquely qualified to be the one candidate who isn’t Trump.  She’s transparent at being fake if that counts.  Her pathetic attempts at positivity have only been public since Crystal Pepsi was disgusting in the first place and not just a throwback gimmick, so don’t feel bad if you’re just learning she’s a bit lax with the truth.  Keeping up on such news might prevent a future similarly awkward situation where the most unsuitable human imaginable cruises into office despite who she is and how she’s linked to two different bungling presidents.

As is befitting of a rich lady with zero useful skills who condemns earned wealth, Hillary demands fealty. How can we nuke Wall Street together otherwise?  Her core suspicion remains that everyone but her is a bungler requiring central planning to function. She’d count the silverware if she invited you for a dinner not made by her. Such a meal would cost you more than one at Red Lobster. Sure, she brings together people. It’s just that they’re united in knowing she’s a phony human sincere in her willingness to sell your Grandma’s soul in order to feel powerful.  But at least she wants to punish success.

Let’s come together.  The fact these doofuses represent technically different choices don’t change the fact both are running cults. Recruitment campaigns are not just distracting from their respective glaring inability to succeed without thorough shadiness, although that’s part of it.  Each assures you they’re personally qualified to charismatically alter society to your liking despite their hideous principles.  Know that whatever they profess can be changed for the right price if you don’t like it.  No matter what happens, the next president will use federal power to get back at those some consider bullies.  At least there’s bipartisan overlap.

There aren’t even laughs in doom.  Flabby henchmen fail to exhibit any signs of cleverness despite how they see themselves as the new Bob Sagets, an inevitable outcome when purported tough-talking conservatives pledge allegiance to a wayward Hillary donor.  It’s so obvious both despondent options are being wholly patronizing toward gullible adherents.  Advertising suckers many even though it shouldn’t.  So, that’s why Flo from Progressive has been causing murderous thoughts for years.

Watering down bad ideas is the best hope in what’s turned out to be humanity’s stupidest year.  Technological advancements really did make people dim.  Anyone who dislikes science fiction should stop making it come true.  The only shelter from the appalling hopefuls’ hideous concepts is how bad they’d be at enacting them.  But the nitwit allies have already damaged much.

The worst thing about what two bad candidates sold is how many millions of humans brought them.  Donald and Hillary unwittingly proved how easy it is to warp perception.  At least there’s an excuse for those who resisted a pair of appalling pitches to drink.  At least, it’s yet another excuse.

Anyone still shaking their heads in horror at how this most improbable scenario unfolded may as well have perception warped by intoxication.  After all, many sober people rallied behind the autocratic dreams of two disgusting pretenders who claim particular extralegal orders will bring you elusive bliss. The dupes are sure to feel much more positive once they realize they’ve been scammed again.  Please learn instead of growing more resentful.

Outside Winning

A homeless man eating out of the trash would offer a different perspective.  By definition, anyone hoping you left cheese on the pizza box is outside the establishment.  I apologize to hungry transients for comparing them to the Republican hopeful.  A person who has no clue what they’re doing will only be so effective, if you can believe it. Many Republicans are surprised by that seemingly obvious update.  Let them know gently about Santa.  He’s just another guy who won’t bring free things.

Often, the unconventional path is avoided because it leads somewhere stupid. Traditional approaches are effective in tedium.  Talk to a hall monitor if you want to catch the smokers.  Likewise, recruit someone with knowledge for any mission of sabotage. Only an inside man can access the levers needed to open the floodgates.  I know at least one candidate who thinks a sledgehammer will do the trick.  Can he do enough pushups by Election Day to lift one?

Despite understandable contempt for government, the country needs someone a little familiar with the process.  A soccer player wonders why it’s so hard to dribble a football.  Maybe that’s why Trump couldn’t make the USFL work.  I’m sure he learned modesty and hasn’t just repeated the same mistakes while bragging for decades.

There’s a reason jerks get into politics. Pretending to care is a useful skill in the useless field.  We stick anyone who can’t make an honest buck in elections to keep them away from the cash register.  The running poser isn’t good at either field, which somehow shocked the plurality of primary voters who will be eternally tattooed with their support for a most unpleasant knucklehead.

Knowing how to respond and campaign is important.  Yes, it’s a shock.  We watch the emblematic example of the opposite try to fake his way to the bell. Calling someone polished isn’t necessarily an insult.  Politics is a good field for sticking egomaniacs somewhere.  But discipline’s the key. The defining characteristic of a winner is the ability to focus.  On the other hand, there’s Trump.

Fight from the outside with a perfect insider.  It makes sense as much as anything else that’s happened during this most pleasant of races. Trump has begged as much as he can to be let in to the cool kids’ clubhouse.  He sort-of succeeded if bribery counts. To be fair, this pouty troglodyte is only superficially connected to the establishment thanks to his contributions. I wonder if there’s a word for someone who has to pay for it.  All I know is that buying access is the utmost sign that an individual is both a shrewd negotiator and a commercial success.

Someone who bought access is sure to know how to stop anyone else from obtaining membership, right?  Much like how only Nixon could go to China, only Trump could bitch about it.  A pathetic joiner is just the guy to stick it to the epitome of corruption.  Sure, it seems like he stands for all the worst things about entrenched power without truly having earned it, much less understanding it.  But writing a check is all it takes.  He’s totally changed now.  The party nominated a literal RINO, which is fine, as every druggie you’ve ever met has proven to be trustworthy upon announcing it.

It’s conceivable that an outsider could be a legitimate contender and decent president.  It’s just not going to be this outsider.  A lifetime pitifully spent attempting to convince others that gold plating equals success is making one last pitch to join.  Yes, he had to open his own country clubs, but that was because others weren’t up to his membership standards.  Maybe he doesn’t want to join your crummy group, anyway; it all depends on whether you vote him in. Incompetence isn’t helping his case.  It’s probably wise to know how to organize a campaign before starting it.  Oh, and you’re supposed to buy ads.  Reince Priebus should write that on a Post-it.

Why is the all-time business titan unable to even start an operation? Well, he’s just keeping it real.  Do whatever’s necessary to rattle the dinner plates.  Irritating others is all it takes.  If crazy notions don’t work, then how come Trump’s TV steaks failed? Yet the election is frustrating to followers who thought it’d be fun to flip off everyone.  I figured a guy with such an awesome commercial racket would be able to apply his knowledge of selling bottled water to winning enough electoral votes.  Having no damn clue what he’s doing was supposed to be a virtue. But Trump will do fine once the world realizes it’s supposed to change for him.

Fuming Voting

People always think their best when they’re angry.  Don’t doubt or look it up.  Just listen to me, jerk!  Sorry.  It’s easy to be overcome with this hot emotion.  Lashing out is the nation’s most productive industry now that we don’t make things anymore, at least according to lashers.

People who claim to have no power sure do seem to vote for many winners.  The permanently indignant have had eight years of the president they wanted guaranteed to be followed by someone who will whine from the Oval Office.  As with a high tax rate that never changes, stability is overrated.

You’re expected to seethe.  Spot the creeps who shriek on your purported behalf by their tendency to semi-excuse violence.  From unjustified anger at justified police shootings to harassing counter-protesters, the fists are expected to fly.  Wear a shirt with room to rotate in the shoulders.  As is the case with every other issue in this most pleasant of elections, each choice offers zero benefit.  Isn’t it great how voting makes a difference?

Life is mean, claim hopeful presidents who’d make it meaner.  As with every other single decision she’s made in her manipulated life, Hillary Clinton is soft on crime for selfish reasons.  Meanwhile, her quasi-foe has a fake tough guy image for his feeble adherents to compensate for frustration at life being mean. They’re not even clever. Lame threats and put-downs that would get the loudmouth laughed off an elementary-school playground are now considered awesome burns.  Someone like him rising is a shameful reflection of his fans.

The best teachers whine that classes are unruly.  Who’s in control here? Blaming those in power for violence is tricky when the social justice agitator weaseled his way into the boss’s chair eight years ago.  Barack Obama remains totally cool, unlike that last jerk who checked your time card.  Any CEO who believes workers are right to be ticked off is bound to harvest profits.

Fecklessness as policy doesn’t work as smoothly as you’d think.  Thinking otherwise is how we ended up with a White House uncomfortable about fighting terrorism or cop-condemning maniacs.  It’s obviously a very reasonable ideology.  An inflexible commitment to an insurrectionist philosophy has led to many pavement sections drenched in glass shards and human blood.  People in charge claim life is unfair, and the incongruity is the least disturbing part about it.

Keeping power counts on keeping people feeling like they’re marginalized.  What’s not kept is liberty.  The Man is holding you down.  Please don’t notice who’s in charge.  There isn’t a looming solution to constant indignity just because they promised to bring one. Perpetual motion is possible if outrage is the fuel.

Balancing the levels between anger and false hope is a tough job if you think this president doesn’t try hard.  He presumes businessmen are also exploiting suckers, which is where his contempt for actual production stems.  You’ve been patient for this long, so what’s a little more time, trouper?  Besides, help is coming tomorrow.  Wait for Godot just a bit longer.

An enraged electorate overtaking a prosperous one exploits the public in a way the businesses politicians demonize could never do.  Projection only feeds the public profiteering.  Republicans are officially no better: Trump pimps the same sort of legitimized rage that’s now bipartisan.  Elected demagogues conditioning subjects to resent life have also coincidentally condemned access to guns, as they figure there’s no humanly way to control impulses.  The inability to behave has become especially pronounced with encouragement.

The preoccupation with grievance restrains a country once dedicated to the hope that people can better themselves.  As usual, the purported cure causes the disease. Patients threaten each other outside creepy rallies.  The only way to get better is by noticing patterns.  Those leading have grifted from you, claim same leaders.

Best of all, there’s no relief possible.  Anyone preaching an ideology revolving around bitterness at mysterious forces proficient at oppression can’t just change into sunshine mode upon seizing charge.  Such hustlers must maintain kayfabe and continue to demonize anyone in power as a greedy thief feeding off your dreams.  To be specific, they mean anyone else in power. The supposed exceptions are going to fight the system from within. And the battles will be on your behalf.  Empty your wallet’s contents into an envelope and mail it to your savior to dissipate that burning feeling.  It’s not a request.

Seeing It All With Ingeborg Lariby


There was one Dutch September 11 victim, and she was one amazing person.  Ingeborg Astrid Desiree Lariby was born in New York City but spent her life as a citizen of the Netherlands due to her parents possessing the same. Regardless of nationality, Ingeborg found comfort worldwide as a woman who defined urbane living.  The effortless traveler moved across borders the way most people cross streets.  Yet a person who lived in 12 countries on five continents didn’t feel at home until she was back in the City That Never Sleeps. Based on her full life, I’m unsure when she was able to sneak in a nap.

Some buildings are vast enough that they require someone to fill it with other companies.  That need led Ingeborg to work as a center manager at the Regus Business Centre Corporation, a company in the World Trade Center that oversaw space within it.  The complex featured unique demands she helped meet.  Every account from coworkers to whom she exuded joy indicates she was radiantly proud of her employment.  That job brought her to on the 93rd floor of Tower 2 on September 11.  Nothing breaks the heart like learning she called her father to say she was okay because it was the other tower that had been attacked.

Regus lost so much: she was one of the company’s five victims. Thanks to Ingeborg, it wasn’t worse: she did her part to ensure clients were safe by refusing to leave until each of them was evacuated.  Without realizing it, she was defining herself in her final moments with absolutely selfless dedication to helping others.

It’s one thing to reside in so many places, but it takes someone truly special to make a lasting positive impression in all of them.  The heroic act of doing her job wouldn’t have surprised anyone who knew her, as companions and coworkers worldwide have offered effusive praise online over the 15 years since.  A friend named Mark Asbury wrote about the fun times they shared in the electric ’80s with her generously sharing comp meals she received while working as a concierge. There’s Rodrigo Idrovo, a classmate at London’s Richmond College who remembered her as someone wonderful you’d feel lucky to have met during studies. And companions from intriguing cities like Vienna chipped in with touching tributes to a person who made others happy in just about any country you can name.

This is one employee who put the “world” in World Trade Center.  Ingeborg lived a cosmopolitan life across the globe in her 42 years. She spoke a roster of languages and relocated between countries with the ease of running an errand like grocery shopping.  Yet only one city could serve as her home.

She was drawn to the city like tourists to Times Square. That doesn’t mean life was without challenges.   Ingeborg wrote about what made her love her final address back six months before her murder in a way that resonates with anyone drawn to a place where the word “bustling” seems inadequate.  “New York is a tormented lover engages you in an emotional roller coaster. One day is full of passion and pounding my heart flutter. The next day is filled with intense hatred,” she wrote for a Dutch magazine.  Ample downsides couldn’t keep her away: “I regularly rehab in a distant exotic place. But like a junkie I can not stay away too long and I look forward to the return trip with anticipation.”  Anyone familiar with where she lived knows the feeling.

The ambiguity regarding New York City is normal.  Someone living in here who isn’t aggravated by it hasn’t been around long enough.  That doesn’t mean residents are going anywhere: anything worthwhile will be accompanied by hassles.  There are no benefits without drawbacks.  What’s important is how Ingeborg didn’t let any of them stop her from living a life that would exhaust many people just thinking about it.

Ingeborg chose such a life despite the endless headaches.  Anyone who’s paid rent in New York City knows how you can hate it one moment and feel energized the next.  She faced it all like a pro and thrived with graceful aplomb.  Feel mad she’s not deftly enjoying the oscillation now while being glad she got to experience it for so long.

You can’t enjoy something spectacular unless you’re willing to cope with irksome circumstances.  Like so many of us who reside in the boroughs, we persevere despite the hassles because they accompany its worthwhile aspects.  The commotion stimulates to the point that residents who choose a teeming borough as home base dismiss the thought of life without the buzz as an option.  For every place she touched, Ingeborg was drawn to where she belonged.

New York City will always be home.  Ingeborg’s final resting place is the National September 11 Memorial, with her name displayed on Panel S-49.  She’ll forever be at peace in a cacophonous city that may as well have been built for her.  Someone who couldn’t get enough of what existence offers is honored in southern Manhattan as the embodiment of those who seek out the city.  If Ingeborg didn’t see the whole planet, she came pretty close.  May her energetic spirit be at rest.


National New York Values

Choose which of two unpleasant semi-fascists who embody everything we rightfully loathe about urban dwellers you’d like to set American policy.  Wouldn’t it be more fun to watch people who ask for irritation deal with such a rotten choice?  The Peter principle states employees get promoted to their level of incompetence, which is unfamiliar to sneaky rich presidential competitors who’ve only bought and sold favors, respectively.  They’re presently embodying it.

In the idyllic world where we obviously don’t reside, the 2016 presidential race would be contained to afflict an appropriate area. Hillary versus Donald would be fitting and funny as next year’s New York City mayoral election.  The NYPD doesn’t have nukes despite what the union wants, which is best for all parties in question.

I say so as a Knickerbocker: don’t emulate New York City.  Those drawn to this stupidly cramped and hideously rude human zoo are weird and know it.  Take it from someone stupid enough to live on the same island as Trump Tower.  It would be fitting if these two colossally unsuitable potential presidents vied for dominion over this preposterous municipality.  Everyone involved deserves each other.

Most importantly and improbably, either Clinton or Trump would actually be an upgrade.  The unlikely  possibility either would be preferable comes courtesy of the limply vile Bill de Blasio, who thinks he has the right to tell people who finance the city they have no right to keep their earnings but refuses to condemn felons.  The pinko putz’s only job is to not make life harder for us than it is, at which he’s failed for everyone but a new generation of subway panhandlers.

A midtown catfight would be quite amusing between fake New Yorkers. Hillary is literally so.  Out of countless shameful abominations, none is as disgraceful as her correctly calculating that the state’s despondently predictable voters would back an unaccomplished carpetbagger.  Meanwhile, Trump tries to act like a Queens tough guy and Manhattan baron while failing at both.  I wish borough residents were the only ones deciding who is less phony.  We’d have the New York Post headlines to help us cope.  A Gotham-style election inflicted nationally is a tragedy I hope makes all Americans as crabby as us only so it doesn’t feel as lonely.

Outsiders could watch the mental patients scuffle with detached contempt from the sanitarium’s visiting area.  All those involved with this election are as repulsive as expected given who’s at the top.  Most glaringly, Rudy Giuliani frittering away his credibility is an unpleasant aftershock of the Trumpquake.

Those who just want government to bother criminals and not earners are tired of being linked to former and faux conservatives.  Ideally, these rightfully despised statists would only be competing in a pinko hellhole.  This contest should be an Escape from New York scenario where the demented city is contained to protect everyone else. Build the wall!

Luckily for those in this fantasy, one can be a jerk and effective mayor.  We only get one right now, and let’s just say this bastard seems unconcerned by the spike in muggers’ rights.  The possible presidents are easy to loathe.  But at least the potential imaginary replacements could dispatch lieutenants to cope with municipal matters.  They’d get credit, which to them is the apex of importance.

Either of these uniquely unpleasant candidates is capable of screwing up a straightforward executive job.  Sure, the person who couldn’t profit off senior citizens willingly feeding slot machines might screw up New York City just like the woman who still hasn’t sent help to Benghazi.  But that’s a risk we’d have to take.

Both of the regrettable challengers would possibly allow graffiti to return as the official wall covering.  Yet law and order posers might be able to fake their way to competence by appealing to legitimate fear of reliving the 1970s.  Breaker, breaker, I’m getting out my CB radio, good buddy.

Fake generals could let lieutenants save the city.  All it would take to seem competent is appointing a hardass as police commissioner who effects the actual arrests.  Short of going with, say, Huma Abedin or Stephen Bannon, either figurehead could appear competent while not having to do much.  Wouldn’t it be fun for one of these frauds to hire someone fitting for a change?

The more unpolished lunatic wannabe Duce might actually run next year if he feels it will help him recover from humiliation.  National voters have repeatedly demonstrated they’re not going to vote for a de facto liberal when the real thing is running.  Cult adherents thought they were nominating an outsider when it was just Mitt Romney on steroids and without manners.  Other than exacerbating Republicans’ worst mistakes without offering advantages, we’ll always treasure the time when Trump represented the same party as Lincoln.

The hypothetical local crummy race would finally bring revenge for those sick of the city’s exported attitude.  A Donald versus Hillary race to run New York’s government would rightfully amuse the rest of the country.  People with yards and driveways snicker while shaking their heads at snotty metropolitans who think they’re superior by virtue of riding with rabble on public transportation.  Paying a fortune to rent a closet leaves little for groceries, not that there’s anywhere pleasant to buy paper towels and Cap’n Crunch.  Man, this is so much cooler than having a second floor and being able to drive.

This city would suffer under the insufferable offerings.  Exactly zero people to the Hudson’s west would feel bad.  A dream of a nightmare matchup reflects the torment that’s part of everyday life in the noisiest of urban dumps.  While wholly unfit to find a head of state, it’s too bad two grating personalities aren’t bickering over subway fares like they should be.

The comeuppance would also apply to jerk locals as revenge for disdain aimed at Red State residents who think life has meaning and look forward to driving to Sonic.  Here in Stink City, we’re used to unaccomplished loudmouths trying to mask ineptness with bravado. We’d ache under Mayor Clinton or Trump.  Everyone else would be safe.