The Great Fall of Humpty Trumpty

Humpty Trumpty bet on a wall.

Humpty Trumpty had a great fall.

All the Red Grovelers and all the Tanned Men

Couldn’t put Trumpty in power again.

Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s a sad song. So? Shit happens. It’s the same as if you went on DraftKings and bet on the Mets. I get that the Mets are your team. But they’re only your team because you live close enough to occasionally visit Citi Field not because they’re any good. You lost money betting on them for the last nine seasons and you’re still surprised?. Let me see, isn’t that kind of the same sort of thing I’m hearing from the Red Tie Society?

You know, those guys that believe that the Vision Pro experience is, “like really real brah”? They want the universe to give them another free life so they can gain enough experience points to win. Win what? Who knows? That really does seem to be the major part of the problem the Tanned Red Groveler Men have with getting anything accomplished. They’re willing to fight for things but what they’re fighting for or even about is just not defined. I really don’t think it can be defined.

I’ve watched people claim alternate realities as something of substance all my life. Same as you. Mostly, when family and friends claim alternate reality, they’re tolerated and sometimes even encouraged to hold forth. Uncle Clarence had a thing for killing groundhogs. No one ever figured out where he went when he was hunting groundhogs. We could see him and all, but he wasn’t at home. He’d sit still as a stump for hours waiting for the Punxsutawney Phil wannabe to show his beady little eyes and kapow. Clarence would shoot and the groundhog would run out his backdoor.

Uncle Clarence got one every now and again which would result in a spit of tobacco and, more often than not, a sudden relief of flatulence which would have warned every Phil in the county. Other than that, he was a pretty regular uncle. Coached little league, had four kids and he and Aunt Mariah were married for over 40 years. Uncle Clarence was nearly understandable even though he lived in a reality where expressing his frustrations by bullying four-legged weather prognosticators was necessary to his survival. But I’ve never seen alternate reality claims on such a grand scale as the Humpty Trumpty trial wraiths demonstrated at the Porn Star trial the other day. The news said they were real humans but I don’t believe it because they didn’t have any substance. You could see right through them.

Those wraiths were the scariest things I’ve ever seen. They didn’t seem to walk. It was more like they lurched. The thing that scared me most was they all wore black suits with red ties. And then they all spoke the same lines as though they were connected by some wraith hive mentality. But if it were not for the eerie setting, one would think those wraiths were all sane, dignified, stoic and esteemed Government VIPs. But they were gathering to caucus in order to perform a magic ritual held to reverse time effects on reality which they ritualized through the force of their collective Tanned Presences hoping to erase the certain disastrous results of that famous “Humpty Trumpty bet on a wall.”

Try as they might and did, they couldn’t delay the Wheels of Justice. Humpty Trumpty went down. Now that Humpty Trumpty is all in pieces, it really cannot do anything for him or anyone else to snot and squall about how the laws of gravity are so unfair. No one cares. The rest of us have to make do without any manner of wraiths to help us out for even a speeding ticket, much less sagging behinds and bulging bellies.

Well, that magic act ended in embarrassing failure when Humpty Trumpty was found guilty of 34 felony counts in a New York State court by 12 of his peers. This is actually a real thing. No kidding. The man has become a felon. That’s going to put a hitch in his get along. I understand that a lot of Red Tied Grovelers feel angry with the Universe because it had the audacity to notice that the original Red Tie Guy was trying to build a reality that has long since been rejected because it is flawed at its very inception. Reality cannot be constructed with a single man’s agreement with himself. Reality can only be forged with the energy of as many people as can unite to bring that reality about.

But I don’t hear all that many of the Freedom Circus Performers from over there in Washington dealing with that reality. In fact, human and non-human Washingtonians who bet on Humpty’s wall right along with Humpty Trumpty are inventing all manner of excuses for how their guiding lava lamp got “railroaded” into shooting himself in the foot. They’re calling that process lawfare. Fair enough. That’s how a society deals with societal members who can not find a way to agree with consensus perception. I think another New Yorker named John Gotti once said many of the same things that Trumpty and the Tanned Men said, or at least tried to say. Mr. Gotti went to jail too. Mr. Gotti also ran an extensive organization which generated lots of cash flow in and around Gotham City. But what he did was not legal either and he, therefore, went directly to jail and didn’t even collect $200.00 dollars. Guess what. New York continued to exist.

If the Freedom Circus, the Tanned Men and the Red Tied Grovelers could all get together to accomplish a project designed to benefit people as opposed to benefiting The Humpty Trumpty Restoration Project, the unity around their party could make sense. But the Freedom Circus doesn’t have any policies, really. Their so-called policies are actually little more than demands that all citizens comport with sexual expressions the Red Tied Grovelers prescribe. Any manner of sexual expression that they dare not experience for fear their old ladies might enjoy themselves may not be practiced by an immoral populace or even the righteous will be punished with a collapsing Dow Jones caused by a caravan of hungry brown skinned people descending like locust to ravage the land. God, according to the Grovelers, has some really stringent rules concerning proper sexual DIY activities. Not only that, but apparently God has ordained the Grovelers as his appointed Holy Voyeurs.

Something that the Freedom Circus and the Red Tied Grovelers seem to have missed is that people never do anything they don’t want to do. It would be much easier on Government VIPs if they could understand something that Pit Bull explained in the most basic of terms. Everybody fucks. Government VIPs be damned. If the best the Freedom Circus can offer is to restrict everyone’s favorite late night, mid day and early morning activity, they might want to consider investing in plexiglass belly buttons. To bolster my point here, I could ask why Government VIPs are interested in knowing when women ovulate? Who thinks that women will agree to that invasion of privacy? If those government VIPs were interested in forging agreement to cement a position, their local constituency could trust, they would be searching for agreement with all women just as they do with all men.

But then, come to think of it, those Red Tied Groveling VIPs only have female models like CrossFit Karen, Bobo, Foghorn Fox and mousy little old homemaking Katie Britt. If that list represented the known female experience for Red Tied Grovelers I could see why they might want to exert control wherever they could. Fortunately that bunch is blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other. So, I suppose I can rest easy, knowing that they’ll all play follow-the-leader and shoot themselves in the foot. It’s all they’ve done so far, huh?