The hysteria

WILL THE gory head of Trump, so grotesquely exhibited by Kathy Griffin, and the blowback it created, spell the end of the Democrats’ hysteria over losing the election?

Not Trump

Don’t bet the farm. Will it reduce it a bit?

Let us hope so.

My child bride occasionally views U.S. news, and she asks me what’s going on up there.

And I always tell her the truth, that the Hillary-and-Bernie people are toddlers on the floor, kicking arms and legs, and screaming bloody murder. Seven months now.

Democrat

They didn’t get their way. They want that Snickers! But there’s another way to see the situation.

It’s the theater in which Americans sit or, more specifically, which of the two screens in that theater they are watching.

Scott Adams, the creator of Dilbert, writes a blog that often touches on the political scene. He maintains that Americans are watching two different movies.

One side side of the theater is the movie of President Trump making America Great Again and giving the endless raspberry to insufferable coastal elites.  Much of the audience, likely most, is watching that blockbuster film.

But on the other side of the theater is the horror flick depicting the Mongol hordes that have invaded the White House. That’s the movie New Yorkers are watching, plus folks in Washington DC, Seattle, California and much of Oregon.

It’s the movie Hollywood is watching, and it’s the movie shown repeatedly on 99 percent of university campuses.

When Weepy Barry was re-elected in 2012, I was flabbergasted. And so were almost all conservatives. We thought we had the election in the bag, but we did not.

We were severely disappointed, but we did not take to the streets. We did not burn cars. We did not photograph ourselves with bloody heads of Obama. Didn’t even occur to us.

We accepted the loss with grace. Well, most did.

America has been subjected now to seven months of nonstop screaming, bawling, death threats and rioting by Democrats. Enough! Perhaps Kathy Griffin’s grotesque stunt that horrified many Democrats too will inspire a calming on the left.

Let us hope so. It’s quite important.

Pocahontas

You’ll get another chance in four years. But skip geriatric socialists and charmless wives of ex-presidents. Be imaginative! Nominate Al Franken or Pocahontas. We would love that.

Meanwhile, grow up. Get off the floor. You look absolutely ridiculous because you are.

The hissy fits

fitWE MEXICANS love our hissy fits. They rarely resolve anything, but we throw them anyway. Here are three examples:

First: Eight or so years ago, Mexico City switched its electricity provider from some unionized outfit that ran an antiquated system to the Comisión Federal de Electricidad, the modern entity that provides light to most of the nation.

The unionized outfit promptly threw a hissy fit. For months, they blockaded the entrance to the CFE high-rise on Paseo de la Reforma in Mexico City. The government ignored them.

These days the entrance is open, and electricity service is immeasurably improved.

Second: Mexico is in the early stages of an “education reform.” In part, this entails competency tests for teachers and they also lose the right to hand off their jobs to relatives on retirement. Unionized teachers promptly threw hissy fits.

The fits happened mostly in the usual suspect, backward states of Michoacán, Chiapas and Oaxaca. Unions blocked roads and highways, and squealed in the streets. The government is giving them lip service, but mostly it’s ignoring them.

Like the improved electricity provider in Mexico City, the education reform will happen.

Third, another reform is the energy sector, which is getting into high gear this year. For a variety of reasons, gas prices have gone up a lot. How did we react? We threw hissy fits, blocking highways, attacking gas stations, looting stores.

People want the old government-subsidized gasoline price. The government will ignore them and, in time, things will be better. Though gas prices likely will be higher.

Our hissy fits normally result in squat, but we throw them anyway. And it’s usually unions having the fits, fighting change, modernization and improvements.

Poetic justice

THERE ARE countless beauties and advantages to living below the border. And there are a few drawbacks.

High on the list of drawbacks is the nation’s love of noise. This usually comes in two forms:

  1. A neighbor sets up a sound stage in his back yard. It’s got speakers about 20 feet high. This is not an exaggeration. A live band is hired, and they holler till 2 a.m. on a Wednesday night. It can be heard a mile away, literally.
  2. Fireworks, eternal fireworks. There is little that Mexico loves more than a good blast, preferably and repeatedly at 5 a.m. and preferably on Sunday, your day of rest.

I attribute this fascination with endless racket to a broad current of childishness in the culture.

The good news is that after a few years you get used to it. When the sounds of Verdun start on our neighborhood plaza before the crack of dawn, I rarely even wake up anymore. If I do awaken, I swiftly go back to sleep.

On concert nights, we both sleep with silicone earplugs.

The video above is a fireworks market in Tultepec, State of Mexico. It’s the largest, retail fireworks market in Mexico. Or was. Someone was careless with a match yesterday. Sixteen people died, and over 70 were injured.

Will we learn a lesson from this? We will not.

Trashing Donald

donald
The remains.

IN THE WAKE of Donald Trump’s triumphant march to the White House, I wanted some memorabilia of the historic event — to remember that I was a player.

I went to eBay and bought a commemorative cup for 17 bucks, and had it shipped to Mexico for an additional 10. I intended to set the cup on my desk to hold pens and pencils. And I’d have Trump’s proud face before me while sitting here.

A combed-over desk companion.

The cup was surrounded with bubble wrap and boxed for its trip south. When I picked it up downtown here at the Estafeta office, it made an unsettling clinking sound.

When I opened the box and unwrapped the cup from its protective insulation, it was well-smashed.

There is no explanation aside from this: When the box was opened at the border at Mexican Customs, which is the custom, the agent broke it, probably with a hammer.

Then he rewrapped it and put it back into the box.

Don’t that beat all? Tsk, tsk, tsk.