Yesterday wasn’t awful, as adult birthdays go, but it could have been better. The Supreme Court decision that Trump remain on the ballot in Colorado and elsewhere (including Illinois) is brazenly illogical and Constitutionally unsound and doesn’t hold cake. But I guess the 14th Amendment doesn’t matter. Not really.

Oh, and if States’ Rights are suddenly inconvenient, that’s not a problem for the Roberts court! Apparently they can just shove crutch legal doctrine up Mitch McConnell’s ass as long as no one needs it to keep non-white citizens from voting.

Ahem.

I’m trying to stay focused, but it ain’t easy.

I expect nothing but corruption and collusion from the Republican-appointed justices, naturally. (Cough, cough. Clarence and Ginny Thomas. Cough, cough.) But bracing for harm doesn’t stave off depression. On this, I am an expert.

Without going into the details—because I’m tired and smarter people have already weighed in—I’ll just say I’m sick of how people paid so handsomely to do their One Job are so willfully bad at it. 

Any jerk posting on Facebook from their armchair could confirmation-bias their way to a decision in favor of a career criminal, sexual abuser, and guy-who-needs-to-pardon-himself-for-stuff-he-definitely-didn’t-do while upending another tenet of democracy.

What do we need nine people with lifetime appointments, security details, ugly robes, and access to yachts for again? I forget.

Hot takes on Trump v. Anderson made the rounds on social media, like they do every time a decision comes down from on high. I saw more than one person express ‘concern’ about our democracy. Like until someone shows up with a ridiculous mustache and jodhpurs, the thing that’s happening isn’t actually happening.

Call me Chicken Little, but the sky is dangling around our ankles like we’re in pre-school and need help pulling our pants up over our pee pees.

If anyone needs me, I’ll be making grim reaper claw machine memes until I feel better.

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