Your new host: WALLACE

Hi, everyone! I'm not so sure that the blog has many readers at this point, since Creepy Cannon has pretty much alienated everyone. Wimp. He took a long vacay from this site due to a death in his household, preceded by a protracted illness and all the usual drama. Turns out he doesn't have the heart to write about politics anymore -- hell, he told me that he didn't even want to look at the news, not even the summaries offered by Stephen Colbert.

"I'm depressed enough as it is," he said. "I know how this impeachment thing is going to turn out. Following the daily twists and turns will only make me segue from depressed to suicidal."

That's why he handed this blog over to me -- Wallace, the Prophet of Doom. Depressed and suicidal are right in my wheelhouse. That's where I thrive, baby! A wit once said "Depression is just anger without the enthusiasm," but I disagree. Some of us are enthusiastic misanthropes. Wheee! The world's going to hell! WHEEEEE!

Jerkass Joe says he'll return if the news becomes a little more tolerable to look at. Yeah. Right. What are the chances of that happening? We're better off without him, kids: A wannabe pseudo-cynic like him just doesn't have the balls to face times like these.  

Let's face it: The Republicans have gone full-bore fascist and the progressives have gone insane. If you're an anti-Trumper who has grown weary of cockeyed optimists like Bill Palmer continually blowing smoke up your ass, if you're the sort who can't participate on forums like Democratic Underground because everyone calls you a defeatist -- come sit beside me on the sofa. Chug some vodka, devour a gallon of rocky road, pop some M or shoot some H. Indulge in whatever poison you fancy. Nothing matters anymore, so let's just have a laff as we watch democracy die together. 

It'll be a blast!

-- W