The world we live in today is crazy. Some might argue it’s always been crazy. I can’t disagree. It has. But we are in a world of crazy that is … wait for it … unprecedented. Hell, we have been using more “un” words than ever these days.
But we’ve been ignoring a more important one lately.
I’ve been writing blogs since this unhinged, unreal, unfit and unbelievable excuse for a human being somehow got elected to the highest office in the land. I keep pointing out that he is, well, all of those “un” words. In other words, he’s un-sane! CRAZY! Suffering from dementia. Nuts. Looney Tunes.
Most people are beginning to realize this. Even so, we all still do a thing that we shouldn’t be doing. We try to rationalize what he does. This is because we are sane. We can’t help but try to explain what he does in some way that makes sense. To us. We — most especially media — try to not only make sense of what he says and does, but try to explain what he will do next by virtue of what he previously did.
Am I the only one who’s noticed that all of us — all of us — are ALWAYS WRONG? No matter what we think is going to happen next, it never does. He does something even stranger, more bizarre, more CRAZY. Or, if you wish to be grammatically accurate, CRAZIER!
Believe me, I’ve tried. Following is an illustrative true story.
When I was a senior in high school I got a job at my local hospital as an orderly.
I was planning on being a doctor when I grew up, so it was a great job. We had a patient named Winslow. At least I’m pretty sure that was his name. Who knows, it was 50 years ago. Anyway, Winslow was in a car accident and suffered serious brain damage. He was in the hospital for almost a year. For the first few months he said nothing. Never talked. Sometimes he would point at the TV he watched all day and would say “Bear”.
I always found this amusing because there was never a bear on the screen. After a while he got a little better — and started talking all the time. By now, he was one of my patients. This meant I had to bathe him, dress him, and fix his bed everyday, so we talked a lot. I loved the guy. I loved our conversations because they were always … crazy.
ME: Winslow! How’re you doing?
WINSLOW: Not good.
ME: Why? What’s wrong?
ME: Wisconsin? What’s wrong with it?
WINSLOW: They’re moving it.
This is the point where I would try to ‘play the game’. I would try to guess what he was going to say. I would try to get inside his head.
ME: They’re moving Wisconsin? Wow, I sort of liked it where it was. In-between Michigan and Minnesota. Where are they moving it? To Canada?
At this point Winslow would look at me as if I was crazy.
WINSLOW: No, they’re moving it next to an airport.
Never would have come up with that one. So, one day, a few months later I came into Winslow’s room to do my thing and he was in a wheelchair. I said:
ME: Winslow! How ya doin’? Where are you going?
He looked at me solemnly and said:
WINSLOW: “Deep Therapy.”
Wow, that was new one to me. But I took up the challenge.
ME: Deep therapy? What’s that?
WINSLOW: They take your insides out.
ME: And then what do they do? Give you a new set?
He looked at me as if I’d completely lost my mind.
WINSLOW: No, they clean them and put them back.
At this point another orderly came in and took Winslow to …
A few months later he was discharged. By then he was pretty normal. I never saw or heard about him ever again. I hope he’s had a wonderful life. Of course, there’s a punchline to this story.
Fast forward one year.
I completed my freshman year of college and was back working at the hospital over summer break. I was no longer an orderly. I had been promoted to Emergency Room Technician. Honestly, I was still an orderly, but I had a much cooler title.
I was working the overnight shift one night and I was returning a gurney to the radiation department. Oddly, it was a place I had never been before. It was about 3 AM and all the lights were off, except for the emergency lighting. So, there I was, walking down a long, dark, empty corridor.
As I parked the gurney I notice a really big wooden door at the very end of the corridor. On it was a large brass sign that said …
I didn’t go toward the door. I didn’t open the door. I slowly backed up, turned around, and walked really fast until I was back in the ER.
So, my point is, we can’t predict what is going to happen next. We can’t predict Trump, or the Republicans. They’re all insane. Anything I can imagine could happen. But whatever does happen will probably be even weirder.
I think Pence is going to go down before Trump. I think Ryan and McConnell will be implicated in Russian conspiracies too. I think the Democrats will take control of Congress in 2018, impeach Trump, and Pence will have to resign.
Nancy Pelosi will become President of the United States.
Call me crazy? Sure, go ahead. It is crazy. But don’t tell me it couldn’t happen.