Generation of political pretenders. Not one is righteous, yet they all claim righteousness. Not one is honorable, yet they honor each other. The game of clones, the shit show. Our professional government class.
The range of emotions is complete, we accept this unfortunate reality. The shock left quick, returning periodically, but gone completely now. Anger is a pointless emotion, we ditched it, channeling it into effective mockery. Depression is about silence and those grease lickers tried to keep it quiet, then tried to keep us quiet, some sort of massive public depression. Acceptance is more than an emotion, it is the end of the range, then it goes off to pasture and other pursuits.
Into the magnificent future, our landscape awaits, full of hills and deals, thrills and chills. It's the only rational way forward, we must scrub the canvas clean, a November power washing. Between the cracks, into the pores with chemicals, down to the microscopic and microorganism level, down to the basic elements. Then, another power wash, don't want to paint over it too soon. Only when the canvas is clean, dry, and ready do we paint our masterpiece.