Took a little walk downtown this morning, to see what I could see. Arsons? Riots? Rainbow assassins with red dot scopes?
Nope.
Not a cloud in the sky, or a looter on the asphlat. Just a sea of tranquility in NYC.
Now, obviously: that might change. I was out and about early this morning, and it’s likely the rebels of La Resistance wer still crashed out on Ambien, or nursing killer bluepill hangovers. Do the side effects for monkeypox vaccines include narcolepsy? Can you O.D. on Plan B? One can only hope. I enjoyed the peace and quiet, to be honest.
That said: I’m no rookie, ladies and gents.
I know they are gonna try to start some shit here, eventually. If not today, then tomorrow, or next week, or on Christmas morning, the dirty birds. There’s lots and lots of time until inauguration day, meaning the window of enemy action is wid eopen. And, lest we forget, they’re still gonna haul Trump into Captain Kangaroo’s magical courtroom, to sentence him to a million billion years for imaginary crimes. For all I know, their “thought leaders” are telling them to keep their powder dry till then.
Yet I suspect that, if and when they throw their futile temper tantrum, it won’t be anywhere near as lengthy, destructive, or annoying as it was back in 2020. They were mostly a no-show for the MSG rally, after all, and the ones who bothered looked more deflated than the Lebanese pound. Call it a hunch.
But for now, enjoy a little stroll with your old buddy Mark, as he scouts out ab old, orcish watering holes for, uh… the loyal opposition? Genteel disagreement? Panic-haired zombies waving crudely drawn (anti? pro?)swastika flags? I tried to keep my mind open, as usual.
Unfortunately, I was operating on basically no sleep, and forgot to dump my drive before I left. And that’s too bad, because the one and only “election” related exchange I observed today took place after my space ran out.
I was sitting on a park bench when I saw a man approaching with his dog. The man was white, with white hair, and was apparently made entirely out of soy. His dog was off its leash, of course, because rules are only for Nazis like me.
Anyway, as the dog jogged past my ankle, its soy master turned to a middle-aged Chicano chick who was sitting nearby, tapping on her phone.
“At least he’s happy today,” said Soyman Retardo, in the smarmiest, most presumptuous, face-punchable voice you can possibly imagine.
The woman just smiled and nodded back, in the way you do when you just want retards to leave you alone without a fuss. I could sympathize.
As the pair continued on their way, Soyman called back to the woman over his shoulder.
“Be safe!” he said.
No.
Sorry, but we’re fresh out of Safe Space here, you absolute pussy.
From now on, we’re aiming much, much higher.
Let’s ride.
One last note:
I’ve noticed a bunch of people on Team Human have been slinging dirt at my hometown, lately. But I want you to keep this in mind:
Donald Trump won 30.45% of the vote in New York City.
That means as many as a third of us are your friends, surviving behind enemy lines. And all of us added to the popular vote victory.
Also: remember Donald’s from here. So please don’t bomb us, Space Rome. We’ll get this joint straightened out.
Eventually.
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The Riot Was Never Found