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Philip K. Dick wrote that we are neither punished for the evil we do, nor rewarded for the good that we do.
But I’m not sure I wholly believe that. Sometimes the Herd delivers justice; sometimes the Subconscious, as it did with with so many Nazi Death Camp Guards.
I wish both for Senor American Traitor. I hope (and intend to make sure) that his name becomes synonymous with smallness, with justice stabbed in the back, with meanness; so that all good folk will forever look upon him as they look upon disease.
I hope that in his old age, he lives to see his name muddied and darkened, so much so that his grandchildren change theirs to something not so reptilian, so viperous. I hope he babbles to the air of his reasons, but that none listen and none record it.
The Republicans have used him well, but they will never trust him or accept him, ever. The Democrats are hobbled by him today, but the rage I feel is surely mirrored by progressives and moderates alike — he will never have a home again in this party.
Independents? Not likely. Everyone knows now that he will prostitute himself for gold, and power; his words mean nothing.
Twenty years, Joe. Live twenty years more, to see yourself be Quisling, Benedict Arnold, Lord Haw Haw. Feel the weight of thousands of Americans buried in the ground for your pride and greed, pulling your soul down into the depths where it belongs.
‘He’s a total Lieberman. Don’t turn your back on him.’
It will happen.
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