Estimated reading time: 5 minutes
Ah, Memorial Day weekend, folks! The time where America collectively gets drunk on cheaper-than-usual beer while jamming sixteen hot dogs into our already cholesterol-stuffed arteries. But this year, the drunk uncle of holidays isn’t just a time to turn our livers into foie gras; it’s the opening bell for what promises to be the most absurd political circus since, well, the last one.
Staring right smack in the middle of the ring, we have the highly anticipated clown-off between Biden and Trump. You couldn’t make up a more explosive duo if you were brainstorming a sequel to Dumb and Dumber. On one hand, we have Grandpa Gaffe, who treats public speaking like it’s a bingo game where he’s desperately looking for any word that might resemble one on his card. And on the other, we have Captain Caps Lock, the human embodiment of a YouTube comment section.
Some people might say there’s never been a worse time to be an American. Seems like we’ve been saying that every four years since forever. But here we are again, in the latest installation of “Who Wants to Lead This Dumpster Fire?”
Biden, bless his heart, is like that old router you’ve had since Y2K. You know it’s outdated, it occasionally crashes, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to upgrade. Are you waiting for it to crash entirely? Are you into nostalgia? Who knows! The man whispers into microphones like he’s Nick Nolte ordering a secret menu item at Denny’s. Hell, if it weren’t for the captioning, half of America would think he’s auditioning for the role of ‘Confused Grandpa’ in a new Adam Sandler movie.
But what about Trump? Oh, Donald Duck Dynasty, where do I even begin? It’s like if a discarded glitter bomb from Studio 54 gained sentience and ran for office. As if being impeached twice wasn’t enough exciting icing to his rotten cake, he’s now under more investigations than an “Unsolved Mysteries” marathon. Every time that guy sends a tweet, it’s like watching your grandmother try to use emojis.* You just know it’s going to be a mess and probably infuriate half the family.*
So, what does this mean for us, the regular, everyday people, struggling to understand if Aldi’s ‘chocolate-flavored substitute’ counts as a vegetable? We’re left in the middle of the Ultimate Table Turnover Championship, appalled yet strangely aroused by how low our expectations for common sense have fallen. But we survive, don’t we? We just grit our teeth and go along with it because as insane as it all seems, it’s the banner of our age.
This election season is not just a roast, it’s an all-you-can-eat fury buffet. The big-ticket items on the menu will make you laugh to keep from crying: “Medicare for All” sounds stupendous until you realize it might be run with the efficiency of a DMV, and “Build the Wall” is a fun slogan until you realize it’s supposed to cost more than your kid’s college education at an Ivy League. And let’s be real, neither of these geezers has a clue how much a gallon of milk costs these days. One thinks it’s still a nickel, and the other probably assumes it’s exchanged through a complicated offshore banking process.
*What’s really crazy is that we’ve become fine with this. Just fine. As if political parties were two sports teams we reluctantly follow because “hey, at least we’re not Detroit Lions fans.” We give our allegiance in the same way that we give into junk mail subscriptions—out of weariness, not enthusiasm.
Ethics, policies, platforms—who even cares about that anymore? The debates are no longer about how to make America better but rather who can more efficiently dismantle it in record time. It’s a race to the bottom, and folks, I fear we might just be winning.
And let’s not forget the voters. Us. We the people who are supposed to keep the riffraff out of Richmond. Every four years, like clockwork, we repeat the Stockholm Syndrome shuffle. As if we’ve been so beaten down by a poor choice of candidates that we start thinking, “Maybe it’s not so bad! Maybe this time loyalty to a party over basic human decency is just fine!”
So gear up, folks. This campaign season will make you question your life choices, your sanity, and whether maybe that one guy who never stops talking about moving to Canada might have a point. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s time for us to step off the rollercoaster for a second. Breathe. And start looking beyond the clowns in the ring—and maybe pay attention to the kids running the cotton candy stand. They just might be our future.
In the end, remember: We get the leaders we deserve… and man, we must have really ticked off someone up there. So, drink your cheap beer, grill your meats, and brace yourselves for the next four years of madcap mayhem that makes watching paint dry seem like an Olympic event. Happy Memorial Day, everyone.
Source: This Memorial Day weekend heralds a bitter campaign season ahead
