The World at a Crossroads


Originally published at:

Tom the Dancing Bug, IN WHICH Trump. Trump, Trump, Trump. ... Trump.


It's been a month and still doesn't feel real.


So I'm still a little surprised that there hasn't been more tilting at the electoral college. Yes, there have been stories about how the electoral college was supposed to prevent this sort of thing (and more stories about how no, it was actually all about racism), and I see this week that there are finally stories emerging of college members declaring that they will not cast their vote for Trump, but I would be expecting protests, doxxing, death threats, conspiracy theories, and all manner of other such merriment.


Hey! Give the man a chance! He'll pivot once the primaries are ov-- um ... once he wins the elect-- uhh ... once he's sworn in! Believe it!


The World at a Crossroads...


That guy is clearly putting his own, hard-earned money down.


It's funny making me want to slit my wrists because it's true! Although that final panel doesn't really capture the Horror Clown that is the President Elect. Not that any single panel can do so...

I'm not sure it's ever going to feel real. But hey, I guess we can take comfort in this being a post-reality era, right?
My mother threatened to stop all her newspapers and stay away from television for the next four years as a coping mechanism. Doing that and pretending someone else is president might be the way to go.


"I would remind you that repetitive and heavy-handed punditry, preached to the choir in the pursuit of shares and likes, is no vice" (Barry Goldwater)


It still makes me throw up in my mouth a little every time I hear the phrase "president elect trump". When we start hearing the phrase "president tumpf", er, "president gumpf", er (can't even make myself type it) I suspect I may have serious troubles with recurring explosive diarrhea.


Try: "President Donald Fucking Trump". That's how I'm coping.



There are those among us who used to like to pretend it was Jed Bartlet.

In Saints Row 4 YOU are the President.


I dig the horns.


Hard to believe that is the real cover, and yet it is. :thinking:


i'm convinced a bunch of us slipped into an alternate universe, en masse, right before the cubs won. the fact that this past weekend i saw a headline about madonna and sean penn getting flirty about missing each other playfully mentioning getting married again only furthers my certainty.


It could have been worse:


I'll never be able to accept a President Trump. On my rational days I see it as a mistake that we simply need to correct. On worse days, it's like having an arrow in my back. I can't reach it. I can't pull it out. I can't ignore it. I'll never "be OK with it". All I can do is keep trying to grasp it, somehow, even though I never will.


Maybe it's time to finally start clearing some of my game backlog and finally play Saints Row 4; of course, I'd have to finish 2 and 3, first...


Kudos to TIME for the satanic headgear.


If these are the crossroads Hecate is vacating her post.