By Nicky Reid aka Comrade Hermit
Exile in Happy Valley
Law and order. Just the sound of those three words sets my teeth on edge. Together they form a verbal menage a trois that quite possibly amounts to the three ugliest words in the English lexicon. It brings to mind dreadful images of everything my wild anarchist heart reviles. It conjures up everything I despise, everything I’ve sworn to die fighting. Law and order is rules and hierarchies and boundaries. It’s borders and courts and prisons packed full of shackled renegades. It’s cops and judges and prosecutors and priests and ties and condoms and dental dams and neatly pressed uniforms and carefully gendered haircuts and Kamala fucking Harris. It’s schools full of well behaved children, television sets governed by the paternal censorship of weaponized banality, bedrooms free from the glories of sin. It’s clean streets, carcinogenic manicured lawns, and jackbooted PTA’s slut shaming bouffant haired single mothers. It’s that motherfucker who coughs real fucking loud at the IHOP when you try to light a cigarette at 3 in the goddamn mourning. It’s that shrill church lady that gives you the stanky eyeball at the bus stop when you’re trying to lez out with your girlfriend. In a sentence, law and order is fascism, American style, and it’s where that human landmine, Donald Trump, finally found his fucking groove.
Took him long enough. For the past three years and change, The Donald has been the flatulent leader of an administration who couldn’t shoot straight, a disheveled coalition of bickering swamp critters struggling to stand on an oil slick of their own greasy shit, and I’m only slightly ashamed to admit that I’ve rather enjoyed the shitshow. After eight years of Barack Obama masterfully pimping out the rusty old Sherman tank of our satanic military industrial complex as a tool for totalitarian humanitarianism and waxing sociopathic about the imperial duty to protect like a milk chocolate Ted Bundy in dad jeans at an international auto show, it’s been a nice change of pace to see our dreaded Donald rip off that mask of sanity while he maniacally debases himself like Multiple Migs on a bender. But all bad things turn lethal to those who wait, and Orange-Man-Bad appears to have finally truly broken bad with his post-George Floyd Nixonian revivals, like that gunpowder and Vaseline bacchanalia at Mount Rushmore.
According to the Donald and his desperate fan club on every nursing home’s favorite news hole, Fox, we live in grave and dire times of epic chaos and proletarian lawlessness. Dangerously under policed minorities and their anarchist acolytes (Hi!) stalk the streets looking for old white ladies to molest and statues to desecrate. We’re just about three seconds and a forty ounce away from burning down your local church or worse, the Chick-Fil-A. These new Nixonians have made a particularly lively field day out of a recent rash of violent street crimes hitting black neighborhoods in cities like Chicago and Atlanta. “This is what happens!” they screech piously as they beat their Bibles like leather-bound cocks, “This is what happens when you even think about defunding the police! This is what happens in a world without law and order!!”