I don’t think “kind bully” is glorious enough to describe the grandiosity of our president and his loyal, reality-ignoring, alternate-universe-dwelling, merry men.
We can progress to calling him a generous dictator, or benevolent overlord, merry marauder. Or we just might upgrade him to King Bully.
While they want to be sombre and mourn over spilt milk, I have cleaned the floor and I’m laughing at the way the person slipped before spilling the milk.
Is it my fault for learning from the situation, accepting my fate, finding the funny, then moving on?
There can hardly be a stranger commodity in the world than books. Printed by people who don’t understand them; sold by people who don’t understand them; bound, criticized and read by people who don’t understand