A Banquet Partaken In Anxiety

Freiderich A. Boomerton, PhD: Good afternoon, Alex. Do you know why you’re here?

Alex Bush: Yeah, sure. Because my parents are soooo concerned that their 17-year-old daughter has crippling anxiety attacks they sent her to a shitty psychiatrist–

Dr. Boomerton: Language!

Alex: Don’t worry, that’s all you’re getting out of me. I don’t want to be here.

Dr. Boomerton: But you’re already in my office, Alex. You might as well tell me what’s going on. I can help.

[Silence]

Are you struggling at school?

[Silence]

Being a teenager is hard. You feel like an adult, but no one treats you like one. And you’re body goes through rapid changes, which can trigger anxiety and depression…

[Silence]

Maybe you’re having problems with your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?

Alex: Girlfriend. And we’re fine.

Dr. Boomerton: Then what’s the problem?

Alex: I can’t tell you.

Dr. Boomerton: You can tell me anything. I’m ethically bound not to tell your parents.

Alex: Okay, it’s more like I won’t tell you. You’re one of them.

Dr. Boomerton: One of “them”?! One of who, Alex?

Alex: Baby Boomers. You’re the reason I feel this way.

Dr. Boomerton: Now I hardly think–

Alex: You ruined everything, didn’t you? You didn’t give a single thought to anyone but yourselves, and then you have the temerity to act surprised that the world is now a raging garbage fire!

Dr. Boomerton: That’s quite the extensive vocabulary you have for someone your age.

Alex: Yeah, I know, Dr. Condescendo. I’ve already been accepted to NYU for the fall. But I’m not even sure if it’s worth it, ’cause no one can afford to live in New York anymore and I’d owe more than I can earn in ten years to graduate. And stop deflecting.

Dr. Boomerton: Taking on debt is part of becoming a responsible ad–

Alex: Gonna stop you right there. Your kind went to college for basically nothing, then burned the bridge behind you. Responsible? Let me tell you what the Boomers are responsible for. The Great Recession.

Dr. Boomerton: Come on now–

Alex: The Tea Party–

Dr. Boomerton: You can’t be serious.

Alex: Skyrocketing rents, stagnating wages–

Dr. Boomerton: Maybe you’re anxious because–

Alex: And the worst–

Dr. Boomerton: –you’re reading Karl Marx instead of hanging out with friends–

Alex: THE WORST–

Dr. Boomerton: –like a well adjusted teenager. Maybe you just need–

Alex: –is Donald Trump, the last squalid fuck-up of the Boomers before dementia and death take you away.

Dr. Boomerton: –to smoke some weed. Relaaaax.

Alex: Why am I anxious? Because he’s intent on blowing up the health insurance market. My dad has diabetes. I almost lost my mom to breast cancer last year. This could ruin them. This could kill them!

This is assuming we’re not all blown to bits first.

Gee, why would I be anxious?

Dr. Boomerton: Time’s up.

Alex: No kidding.

(Year Zero/Day Two Hundred and Sixty-Six)

 

Zombie Zombie Trumpcare

He’s still at it. Undeterred by crashing his head into a brick wall, the concussed fool staggers, wipes his bloody face with a sleeve and affixes his gaze on his target again. Ramming speed. He’ll need to run harder if he wants to break through to the other side.

Sabotage!

Donald Trump doesn’t take rejection well. Over the weekend, the lazy fascist threw a temper tantrum of epic proportions, lambasting the caucus that is (on paper, at least) his own party for failing to pass any health care reform bill. If they can’t do it, Trump mused, he’ll have to sabotage Obamacare by blocking subsidy payments to insurance companies.

NO. Get out of here, Beastie Boys! Your days of being relevant are behind you! Your songs are now a comfortable staple of commercial radio and a plot device for the mediocre J.J. Abrams Star Trek reboot franchise! I’m trying to talk about something that could have a deep impact on people’s lives here!

Thanks, Deep Impact, for presenting a scenario much more in line with severity of the crisis Donald Trump could unleash, as well as reminding us of that one time we had a level-headed black president who stopped insurers from discriminating against individuals with pre-existing conditions.

It bears repeating that Donald Trump does not understand how America’s imperfect health care insurance market works. He’s not a policy details man, or a big ideas man, or much of anything that could still be considered human. His mad grasping for anything he could call a victory could inexorably destabilize the insurance market.

And he’d unconscionably bomb the market because he didn’t get his way. President Trump would wantonly endanger the financial security, and in some cases the lives, of millions of Americans because he has the emotional maturity of a two-year-old.

How are we all feeling about his access to the nuclear codes?

(Year Zero/Day One Hundred and Ninety-Three)

The Miracle Workers

Oh great creator above, how did they do it? How did they convince not enough Senators to authorize rapid-fire discussion and voting on zombie Trumpcare, requiring Vice President Mike Pence to vote to break the tie? How did they then proceed to vote down plans that, although they didn’t make much sense to begin with, seemed almost competent compared to the ideas Republican Senators began pulling from their anal canals because fuck it, it’s not like the president, though adamant something gets passed, actually understands how health OR insurance work? What magisterial control of the situation! What daring!

With the passage of Okay Let’s Talk About It I Guess, Washington insiders agree that Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell is a strategic genius with an incomparable understanding of procedural maneuvers. Washington insiders agreed last week that Mitch McConnell was a dismal failure whose reputation had been oversold to the detriment of the GOP’s political fortunes.

See how this works? Nothing is real! Perception is paramount! I don’t know what’s in the town’s swampgas, but it seems to make the national political press change their minds about what’s actually happening every five minutes. Either the journalist are 1) swamp-high or 2) in jobs that require them to have a fresh take to offer readers every single day.

Take your pick.

(Year Zero/Day One Hundred and Eighty-Eight)

Today In Old White People Are Trying To Ruin Everything…

For fuck’s sake. Old white people are still trying to ruin everything.

Old white people flew extra old, extra white John McCain away from his cancer treatment in Arizona so he can vote on… ummm…

Turns out no one actually knows what it is they’re supposed to be voting on tomorrow. At all. Other than it has to do with health care. Which is definitely something that should be meddled with by cranky grandpas who are going senile.