American Shithole #32 | Other People

American Shithole #32 | Other People

By Eric Wilson

I rushed to work on this week’s column early, as I was feeling a surge of excitement regarding the upcoming election, and I wanted to devote an entire American Shithole to being thankful. I was looking forward to celebrating my fellow citizens that aren’t having this shit — and I really wanted to take the opportunity to use this column for once, to praise all that is good in this country.

That was last Thursday afternoon…

I wanted to celebrate — for just one blessed moment — the light shining through these last two abysmal, nightmare-inducing, Cormac McCarthy-esque, post-apocalyptic daydream infused fucking years; the good in America.  


It’s Monday now, and since last week we’ve had:

1.      A Trump-supporting, GOP terrorist murder black Americans buying groceries.

2.      A Trump-supporting, GOP terrorist mail bombs to prominent detractors of the President.

3.      A terrorist critical of Trump for not being nationalist enough murder Jewish Americans gathered for worship.

(Dare I even ask anymore?) What fresh hell awaits us between now and Thursday when American Shithole posts?

Whatever happens, whether we are reinvigorated or crestfallen, I’m proud that so many Americans are taking a stand. I’m sorry I couldn’t take even five fucking paragraphs this week to thank you.

Thank you, other people.

To be filed under “What, More Good News?” Here are my Vegas odds for the mood of progressives on Nov. 7:

Yes, but   which     Jagger/Bowie video?

Yes, but which Jagger/Bowie video?

SCOTUS jokes aside, I am worried by so many variables. So many unknowns.

Want a non-Trump reason to vote? Here’s something practical:

This is an actual line of dialogue that came out of my face, almost verbatim, during a conversation with a young, pimply-faced college kid selling me governmentally-sanctioned weed.

“OK, I’ll take an eighth of the Skywalker OG — no make that a quarter; an eighth of the Bubba Fett, an eighth of the Skywalker Rebel Tangie Kandy, the 1000mg lavender CBD tincture, and the CBD eucalyptus cream for my neck, please.”

I got to say that to a pimply-faced kid. OK, he was probably in his early twenties, but I got to hand him money, and he gave me all that shit. Whats more, no one was there to arrest me, and the only guy with a gun held the door open for me and said, “Have a nice day.”

The only reason I’m able to have that experience, is because other people voted.

The privilege to buy Star Wars themed marijuana products now afforded Americans in states across the nation exists because Americans voted for it — just like every other hard-fought inch of progress we’ve made in the last few centuries.

Thank you, other people. Thank you for being there for me.

Of course, you should also vote because a dusty, orange gasbag is throwing you, your grandmother, and the rest of us in America into a mulcher — and he’s drinking that gross milkshake up.

You know I can’t leave you, dear reader, without my obligatory swipe at the ruling class.

If we’re going to have billionaire-ism, can we at least have it be based on merit? I want the folks who create things that make everyone in the world happier and healthier to be the billionaires, if we have to have them at all.

If you build something and the whole world is more miserable because of it, I don’t think we should still grossly overvalue you as the creator. I’m looking at you, ZuckerBook. Sure, we still get/have to use your turd of a product, but we’re taking all your bloated market value as penance.

We don’t get to check the billionaires though.

Instead we have towering penises like Robert Mercer (who’s arguably responsible for both Brexit and Trump), taking enormous, Mastodon-sized shits wherever he wants in the world, wiping his ass with the very laws that serve him, shredding the American constitution with his lich-like, walking dead, sandpaper anus — and he does so without so much as a fart of retribution from the rest of the world.

The message is clear: He, and his obscenely overvalued, soulless billionaire brethren can do whatever the fuck they want. They can fleece this country of middle class value, divide it, and pick from the fucking bones. They can strip the earth and sky of sustainable life. They can buy and sell elections. Oh, and they can murder anyone that points any of that shit out.

Vote, and eat slightly less shit, or just eat shit. I wish I had better options for you.

Well I have one, but most of us aren’t ready for it yet; I’m sure not. For now, I’ll see you next week — on the other side of history.   

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A Contest You Don't Want To Win

A Contest You Don't Want To Win