I’m sad. I’m tired. I’m an angry lib!@$#. And I’m hardly the only one. A serial liar is President Trump, which I find disconcerting, but it doesn’t bother smarmy Congressman Kevin Cramer, the whole of the North Dakota GOP, and 39 percent of Americans. Maybe some haven’t heard the news, and maybe some think all news is fake because the president said it was so. That’s only one reason he’s so dangerous.

They are the basket of gullibles. His marks.

Trump has worked to discredit our judicial system, our intelligence services, our election system and now our free press. Make of that what makes sense to you. Perhaps, his antics don’t need repeating, but the overweight child is still there. Let me know when he has left the building that was erected for good honest humans, patriots, and he’s tracking sleaze throughout the house.

Besides the Superfund site known as the Thursday Trump press conference, or a terrible standup routine, we learned that some Scott Pruitt guy was named the head of the EPA. He doesn’t believe in climate change, regulations or Pluto. Our Democratic senator voted for him. That was a kick in the nether regions. Luckily, I continue to be forever past my child-bearing years, which is a waste of my birth friendly hips.

Then, I see a picture of Trump signing a law, one that enables coal companies to chuck coal leavings, coal extract or dogs named Coal into the nearest creek, stream or river. Because I think we can all agree that our waterways aren’t chewy enough, most likely because they don’t have enough bituminous to thicken the soup.

And who is standing next to Trump’s desk but Heidi Heitkamp. She jumps right off the page in a color picture. Her proximity to the goo was sickening enough, but then it’s obvious that she actually voted to use our streams as coal toilets. Horseshoe to the head, with the horse still attached. A big mean horse.

Something else popped up in print about that time, suggesting that the North Dakota Legislature was going to stick a lead pipe into the spokes of the wind energy business because it was going so good, we might have too many wind jobs and not enough workers left to dump the coal crap into the Missouri, which would be tragic. Fish love coal water. Who and what doesn’t? Except for school attacking bears. They’re fussy.

Then, Trump did his schtick. It was like having an irritable lap dog barking at you at random high octaves, through the neighbor’s chain-link fence for 7,000 minutes straight, while you sit 2 inches away, duct taped to a lawn chair.

The press is dishonest, and he inherited a mess. That was the gist of the opening tirade. Well, pretty much all of it. There was a definite theme.

Grievances and more grievances, all aired with fervor. All the guy in the clown makeup needed was Frank Costanza’s Festivus aluminum pole, some feats of strength and a few Festivus miracles to make it a holiday for the ages.

At one point, Trump seemed to channel Maxwell Smart (Don Adams), Agent 86, on the 1960s TV show “Get Smart.” Some dialogue fictionalized.

Trump: “We got 306 (electoral college votes) because people came out and voted like they’ve never seen before so that’s the way it goes. I guess it was the biggest electoral college win since Ronald Reagan.” And they have surrounded the building — ready to attack, and free me from you stupid poor people, at any moment. Would you believe it?

His captor: (Usually Bernie Kopell, as Siegfried; made up with a facial scar, eyepatch, and using a German accent) “I find that very hard to believe.”

Trump, getting a little nervous: “Not buying that one, huh? How about the biggest win of Republican presidents since Reagan, which is what I meant to say? Would you believe that?”

Captor: “Also, very hard to believe. George Bush is a Republican, is he NOT?!”

Trump, near tears: “OK, how about this? Would you believe Chris Christie is out there with 700 Arby’s roast beef sandwiches, just for you, and is ready to shut down the bridge of your choice? And, I’m pretty sure that I had the most electoral college votes since 2016 — that’s a year, right?”

Captor: “I believe the Chris Christie part — since he’s such a butt-kissing tool, but you’re a lying weasel about to be deported to the motherland.”

It’s about this time that Max would use some spy thing and get rescued by Agent 99 and the Chief.

So, while he’s chewing out the press for lying, he tells a lie and blows it off as something he just heard around the water cooler.

Then it got weird (Trump’s words in quotes)

“We have made incredible progress. I don’t think there’s ever been a president elected who in this short period …” Nope can’t do it. I thought I could comment on all of the stupid, nonsensical and false comments made by ol’ pelt-head,  one by one, but I wasn’t counting on writing a book.

If the video of a crazy man screaming at a fire plug didn’t render a full picture of Edvard Munch’s masterpieces, then try reading the transcript. Dozens of doors. Not one with hinges.

Remember the college professor who might ask the most obscure test question, from the book, or your notes? Maybe the walls. Memorize everything is the idea. So, every word in the textbook and the notebook gets the green highlighter, including the copyright and a few of the spots that start to appear in front of your eyes.

You may as well take a roller brush of orange paint to the whole friggin’ transcript to match the raving lunatic who thought this was a good idea. Besides, he’s already taken the act on the road, evidently to kick off his 2020 reelection campaign. Totally normal.

Luckily, things are less moronic in North Dakota.

I didn’t know it, but my freedom was being impeded because I couldn’t buy raw milk. Legally anyway (wink). That situation may have changed, or may still be tied up in milk committee. I don’t really care, but the sponsors got me worried, when they inferred that it was illegal to buy fresh vegetables from the grower without those jack-booted thugs from the Food and Drug Administration demanding that my sweet corn be confiscated and held at the Corn Palace in Mitchell, S.D., until I could raise bail or said to hell with it and went to Hornbachers — or home.

It wasn’t like that. Somebody just wants to sell raw milk.

Gun laws have gotten looser, cuz freedom, just in case a milk dispute breaks out. Schools may be allowed to have the music teacher packing, too. “You’re FLAT, Chad!” Hopefully, deranged rifle-wielding spree killers won’t discover the transparent thin glass windows.

Legislators aren’t worried about the explosive Bakken oil trains that pass close to schools, though. I asked. They aren’t. Such a carefree bunch. Incineration of an entire school, and the guns, not an issue.

The penalty for selling alcohol to minors stays the same, unless you’re wearing a mask while doing it or get pulled into a passing riot because the sentence could be making you drink raw milk. I used to know what a riot was. Now, I have no clue. I think you can have one by yourself, if you want. Stand out on the boulevard and see what transpires, I guess. It helps if you’re Native.

In fact, the First People have really got the likes of Al Carlson all worked up. Jack up the penalties for everything Rob Port says anyone did anywhere in southern North Dakota. He can actually see Cannon Ball from his perch in Minot. Several times, the Port wrote that some of the water protectors had taken to walking on the frozen water to get here and there. Ice to novices. I found his observation insightful. He also noticed that everything bad that happened within 150 miles, happened near “Cannon Ball.” It really makes you wonder.

Port is fanning the flames  — or something  — with his fanny in the Sunday paper of the Fargo Forum, Grand Forks Herald and Dickinson Tribune. He wants Shailene Woodley to come back and clean up the mess at the protest camp. Except there is no mess, and his readership doesn’t extend to wherever this Woodley woman hangs out. He pulled that information out of his butt. It’s been cleaned. Photos and video make him a liar. Those aren’t the only things, but the ledger isn’t in pork pie’s favor.

Port has been having the vapors, along with state propagandists, about the 200 to 300 abandoned cars and environmental disaster at hand for months, but he pulled a Trump. All we have are oil-related environmental disasters, but those are for our own good.

I’m going to go sit outside, wearing a mask, unarmed and protest something. So many choices.

One thought on “RON SCHALOW: The Scream”

  • susan gorr February 20, 2017 at 12:50 pm

    Laughing and crying the same time here.


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