“In the long run we’re all dead.” So said economist John Maynard Keynes. I speak for us all when I say the long run can’t come soon enough. We needn’t go into details. It’s evident humanity is irrevocably screwed-up, civilization was a mistake, and it’s only a matter of time before Hollywood finds your favorite film and remakes, reboots, and prequelizes it. Worst of all is there’s nothing we can do about it. Seppuku never caught on—even the Japanese are too busy fending off demon-possessed schoolgirls to disembowel themselves—and cyanide is too expensive for the poor who deserve death equally as much as the rest of us. Our remaining hope for the world being put out of its misery is if Joe Biden trips and smacks his forehead on the red button which, to be fair, is a distinct possibility.

Until armageddon comes, numb yourself with some of my thoughts. This is a sequel to a post I wrote last year and judging by the film and video game industries, there’s nothing more beloved than sequels. So relax, inject some Cat III directly into your brain for temporary relief from the agony of life.

• Of all extremist political movements, the Khmer Rouge is uniquely weird. Never before had a system of governance been pitched as “Hey everyone, let’s all become farmers and kill each other!” Admittedly, if modern America converted to agrarianism, most of us would beg to be killed rather than do manual labor.

• I used to think punishments should be harsh and public because of the deterrent effect. That was until I actually saw a chemical castration with my own eyes. Using the world’s tiniest pair of scissors, they removed two neutrons. I tell ya, he wasn’t the same Strontium anymore. He might as well have been Boron. Boron! I’m still not sure if they apprehended the right guy or if there’s some isotope out there laughing his nucleus off that got away with murder.

• Like Kurt Vonnegut, I am steadfast in my opposition to the semicolon. Not all punctuation is created equal. To defend its usage is to defend an abomination. That’s why it was disheartening to read Steven Pinker defend it in The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person’s Guide to Writing in the 21^st Century. On page 294, he rationalizes this crime of grammar by giving an example of a sentence that would be unintelligible without:

My favorite performers of the 1970s are Simon and Garfunkel; Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young; Emerson, Lake, and Palmer; and Seals and Crofts.

What Pinker overlooks, is that the person who would write this sentence doesn’t deserve to be understood. I’m not sure they even deserve to live.

• Having decided rocking the vote no longer suffices, the left has adopted a new strategy for electoral domination. Enter Tramps Against Trump. This renegade Instagram group has come up with an ingenious plan to dissuade people from voting Republican and it’s almost as effective as repeating the candidate’s public statements and actions. Intellectuals grouse that political rhetoric isn’t aimed at our minds, effective politicians know to aim for the heart, but the Tramps are aiming lower still. They are sending nude photos to anyone who sends a photo of themselves in front of a polling station. The reason for starting the campaign is the threat a Trump presidency poses to their occupation as sex workers. This is understandable. My number one political concern is also whores, but I fear for the harm this does to the integrity of our electoral process. How are we to know that the demographic of people who have access to Instagram but not the billions of free porn sites and who won’t just lie about something that would be illegal to own proof of, are not being manipulated? Steve is a decent man and the nation deserves to know that his sacred vote hasn’t been bought out by some tarty Boss Tweed.

There’s also the fact that this whole thing is eerily similar to a project that scandalized the Middle East last year, wherein those who voted for Rasha Hefzi in Saudi Arabia’s municipal elections were rewarded by a saucy lass who gave them a peek at the bridge of her nose. And just like their Saudi sisters, the Tramps Against Trump will spend the day after the election getting stoned.

• I don’t mind spooky action when it’s at a distance. It’s when it gets close that I start being bothered. At a far enough distance, can any action be considered spooky? I mean, a haunted house loses it’s ability to scare when it’s a million light-years away. Even a whole haunted city doesn’t bother me that far off. A haunted planet, maybe. Seriously though, a haunted planet? Stop talking crazy.

• Ever since his failed presidential run, Ben Carson’s name has been floated around for the position of Surgeon General. This is reasonable. Cigarette warnings could really be jazzed up with some kooky ideas about pyramids. Trouble is, and it pains me to say this, he’s afflicted with a unique psychological malady that makes him want to leave behind his job separating twins conjoined at the head, an act considered noble by all (except the tireless defenders of Nature’s abominations—”if God didn’t want you to be a freak he wouldn’t have made you a deformed weirdo”), to pursue what is, at most, an eight year gig as figurehead of the failing government of a basket-case of a nation. It’s one thing to aspire to be the pilot of the Hindenburg on May 5, 1937. Carson is like a guy who aspires to be the pilot while soaking in the glow of the blazing airship.

• In my previous post, I mentioned my friend, Julian Sex. He’s a real jokester. He was going to give his firstborn the funniest name, but he changed his mind because Anal isn’t a girl’s name. (Gaye is, but the wife nixed that. Typical.)

• I care not if my neighbor believes in no gods or 100, but I draw the line at 1000. Seriously, don’t people know anything about marginal utility? Anything past 400 deities provides no additional divinity.

• After careful consideration of the criticisms that they’ve abandoned core libertarian principles to appeal to centrist and left-wing voters, the Johnson/Weld campaign released this statement, “We’ve heard loud and clear that our own base and disaffected conservatives don’t trust us to reduce the size of government. In a sincere effort to understand these objections, we have consulted with top officials in the GOP. Our meetings were cordial and we learned many things that have helped us to craft a truly free market platform that will serve the interests of all Americans. That’s why we’re proud to announce that our fathers were mailmen.”

• Even before the primaries, it was obvious the media would wage war on the Republican candidate no matter who it was. Deciding to take an unorthodox route, primary voters chose to arm their enemy with a giant orange nuke, which has just over three weeks of plummeting toward Earth while Sean Hannity straddles it, waving a red “MAGA” cap in the air. Yaaaaah-hoooo indeed, ya clown.

• Do not get the impression from the preceding bullet point, nor the numerous comments I’ve made, that I’m not on the Trump train. Heck, I should be the conductor. Unlike his opponents he is referred to by a definite article and his first name and we all remember the glorious successes that were the administrations of the Millard, the Warren and, best of all, the Grover. He is a man for our time and I cheer him on as he stands athwart history yelling. What’s he yelling? Nothing intelligible, but what’s important is that he’s yelling, though his poor sense of direction has him, rather than athwart history, perpendicular to it. Oh well. At least I have the title for my upcoming biography, T-boned by History: The Donald Trump Fiasco.

Because I support your run, Donny, I now offer some free advice. Tap into current pop culture trends and transform into the festering undead who feasts on the flesh of the living. If the Democrats can nominate a bloodsucking vampire, it’s only fair we get a zombie. Be careful though. Changing your campaign slogan to “Brrraaaaaaiiiiins” is not playing to your strengths. “Send more cops!” will appeal to the law and order crowd and fans of cult horror films, both of which are necessary for victory. Whether you should be a 28 Days Later fast zombie or a Dawn of the Dead shambling one is up to you. Opinion polls consistently show voters don’t give high priority to their zombies’ speed and also, they’re completely ignorant of even the most basic aspects of their own government. The downside of course is that after being elected, all an assassin would have to do to be exonerated and win the heart of America would be to use the tried-and-true legal defense, “He was a zombie?”

• Bad as our current choice is, let’s not forget all the crap that preceded it. Like remember that time all the way back in 2015 when our current president said about fighting ISIS, “We don’t have a strategy yet”? The public anticipated this statement would be followed immediately by the camera pulling back to reveal Obama was not wearing any pants. Clearly, our Commander in Chief had lost his mind. Imagine this in wars past. “The Nazis will probably be invading us and that’s a concern, I guess. We shall fight in France? On the seas and oceans? In the air? Just spit-ballin’ here.”

• It’s about time the internet stop and think about how hard we’ve made it for people who genuinely have to ask embarrassing questions for a friend.

• Donald Trump’s statement that China is eating our lunch has just been rated false by Politifact. “Study after study has shown that the people eating Americans’ lunches are, wait for it, American (except one lunch eaten by a Polish man but that’s an outlier). With obesity being an epidemic and seven out of ten adults medically indistinguishable from an orca made out of Doritos, China eating our lunches is not such a bad idea, though experts say it would be better if we allocated our lunches to more needy countries like Namibia, Haiti and Wyoming.”

So there you have it. Your reprieve from the drudgery of existence. I hope once again to soothe your aching soul with my amusing tidbits, but by the time I finish another, it may be too late. “Don’t cry for me,” the United States said, “I’m already dead.” (In case you don’t know, that’s a Simpsons reference—those things that comprise the 9% of the internet that’s not pornography.)