Moving the goalposts. An old sports analogy that these days is utilized more off the field than on. Meant to signify having changed the rules in a situation or an activity, in order to gain an advantage, it is ever so easy to apply that definition to the mindset of so many in the world around us.
Religion - how many times must we hear that some apocalyptic end is nigh because <insert latest natural phenomenon>? Whether it is the date on the calendar, an eclipse, or the odd shaped shit your shaman just took, this old world of ours should have been obliterated long ago. Hell, Y2K should have erased us all. Preppers prep. Prayers pray. Belongings are sold. Goodbyes are said. And the warnings, oh the warnings to all ye unfaithful, ignorant, unknowing, unbelieving souls...
Then said date passes with nary a fart in the breeze to disrupt the normal sunrise and sunset. And should you question what? why? how? Huh? There is always some excuse. Not answer, EXCUSE. The high priest of horseshit will ramble about charting the dates, stars, his rectal offering incorrectly. Or even more common, give credit to whatever "god" is being invoked - we have been given a second (third, fiftieth) chance to prepare, atone, get right.
All of this said while moving the metaphorical goalposts in place for the next time the coffers need filled, the believers need brought into line.
That last part has become the modus operandi of the Church of the Flatulent F*cker. Their chosen priest, holy man, oracle, and god, all wrapped up in the rapidly decaying carcass of a melted orange circus peanut.
From the day this pitiable excuse for the Great Pumpkin slid down his escalator, his followers have done nothing but make excuse after excuse, buy bushel after bushel of bullshit, and constantly pick up and move the goalposts in his never ending con game.
Anyone with critical thinking skills has long given up trying to figure these people out. We know that reasoning with them is more worthless than the Trump bucks they buy as a way of gettin' rich quick when he is reinstalled into office.
People are dumb. It really is that sad, that simple.
Well, at least a good third of the populace are. Easily led, hungry for vengeance against the consequences of their own life choices, intellectually thin, willfully ignorant, desperate to feel cool and in the know, and completely unable to admit they have been taken for the ride of their lives - entire emotional semi trucks are designated in their brains to constantly shift the goalposts for their hero.
At this point though, those goalposts cannot even see the field from which they started. And the rubes are buried so deep under promises, conspiracies, gold tennis shoes, Trump flags, MAGA hats, and gulliBIBLES that the term cognitive dissonance doesn't come close to describing the literal pain that would be involved in them letting the truth creep in.
Look, I don't begrudge anyone having a hero. We all look up to someone, something. It's normal, natural. Human beings are aspirational creatures. But when the complete abdication of critical thought, reason, and accountability take hold, we are exaspirational creatures. Trying to talk truth to a MAGAt is akin to trying to teach long division to a crow. It will squawk, flounder, flap around, and eventually shit its way out of being held in place.
Trump dovetails with Q in that there is always some grand plan, some global import, some excuse reason to hang in there. The one thing there never is is even the slightest allowance that this self admitted piece of excrement can do / has done anything wrong.
Like so many who follow politics, I, too, marvel at how his mocking a reporter with disabilities was not the end. Surely there were decent people in those crowds of his who had someone in their lives like that reporter? Surely decency on its own would find its way to the surface and he would be called to account, ejected from the race?
Nothing.
Nothing but laughter.
His wholesale painting of anyone from Mexico as "rapists and criminals"? Nothing but cheers.
Grabbing them by the pussy? Surely women would have burned their MAGA shirts in effigy. HA. They painted them with arrows encouraging the candidate to grab theirs. Locker room talk, funny, no big deal.
COVID. The mismanagement, disdain for science, embrace of his own hubris and ignorance that resulted in his own hospitalization and hundreds of thousands of people losing their lives? They loved him even more. Even as they lay dying, it was all some big conspiracy. And it marked a dramatic uptick in the entire antivaxxing movement. So much so that a bill has actually passed the New Hampshire house - a bill that would remove the requirement of parents to have their child inoculated against polio and measles before being allowed into childcare.
All of it tracks back to the dumbest man to ever soil the Oval office.
Make polio and measles great again, I guess? Forget a chicken in every pot. You get an iron lung! And you get an iron lung! And you get an iron lung!
There are endless examples of his idiocy, his criminality, his amorality, yet the clueless cadre treat him as some heaven sent ride or die.
He now shits sits in a Manhattan courtroom, emitting anger and gas in equal measure. Called to account by the justice system, yet even this is all a Deep State-Biden-led-witch hunt against their lily white, can-do-no-wrong, terminally persecuted demi-god.
The truth is (should any of you out there still try to discuss these things with your MAGA co-workers or relatives), he is being treated better than anyone in his shoes would be experiencing. He still walks free, whereas any of us who violated gag orders, menaced freely at the microphones, and had fraudulent bond support would be sitting in a cell. He has been afforded enough rope to lasso the moon at this point. The charges are valid. Let that one sink in. This case was not brought or allowed to get this far without substantial evidence of criminality.
He is, at his core, a self indulgent, self-aggrandizing, narcissistic conman. That's it, that's all. He's not superman, Captain America, a gladiator, the second coming, or any of the other delusions of grandeur his followers build up around him to distort their own vision. He is a flatulent, incontinent, degenerate, cheating, business bankrupting, social climber with long term ties and tentacles to crime of all ilk. He lies as others breathe. Truth is a nuisance to him; facts are what he creates in the Adderall addled recesses of his grey matter. Take a transcript, seriously, ANY transcript of him answering a question or speaking at his klan meetings rallies ... NOTHING. Nothing of any sense, substance, or clarity. Yet he is lauded by his audience of daft punks as someone who speaks his mind, says what others are afraid to say.
Huh?
Read it. Read it again. Then ask a MAGAt what it means. They'll squawk and flap and shit on your shoe all the while moving the goalposts at light speed with some throw away about "gotcha" questions and how you just don't understand him. Anything to keep from having to admit that Cinnamon Hitler is a raving loon and a breathtakingly stupid one to boot.
They'll excuse away him literally falling asleep in court last week, yet visibly cringe when reminded that Hilary sat for 11 hours of questioning before the House Select Committee on Benghazi with nary a sip of water, bathroom break, or the assembled needing gas masks.
Rip van Stinkle is just a man. An ignorant, grifting, say-what-it-takes, take-all-you-have, use-you-and-throw-you-away con artist. You are not special, you are useful. For now. As long as your pockets are open, and your minds vacant, he will continue to empty the former and fill the latter with his blather. And when your ire and votes cannot save him from the consequences of his actions and crimes, he will forget you exist.
The goalposts are gone. Ask the flat earthers in your conspiracy groups, MAGAts. They have been moved so far they have fallen off the edge. As have you.
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