I call people stupid when they don’t agree with my opinion.  Call it a character flaw.  Tell me I’m an asshole.  Describe me to your best friend in terms of rage at my dismissive behavior.

I often editorialize, demonizing those I see as uniquely stupid with oft fantastical and hyperbolic rhetoric:

“You’re the worst thing since two girls shit in a cup and ate that shit, you dumb bastard.” 

“I wish your mother knew you were going to grow up to be this dumb.  Maybe then she would have seen the wisdom of abortion.”

“Let me guess, you got your M.D. from Trump University?”

Enter Elizabeth from Knoxville, Tennessee.  Just hearing where she’s from, someone like me already has a preconceived view of who Elizabeth is and what Elizabeth represents.  Given the history of the United States, and the reputations of those states that proudly proclaim their allegiance to authoritarianism, could you fault me for assuming that Elizabeth supports bigotry, represents bigotry, and has no understanding of what she’s doing?  Elizabeth, my friend, is a trash bag.

“What?  What do you mean?”

You like?  I just decided, in the course of writing this article, that a “trash bag” is a person who begins empty and ends full of trash.  Elizabeth is a fucking trash bag.  I also like her for garbage person.

Elizabeth from Knoxville is the kind of meth-addled idiot so hopped up on fake news and so devoid of even a crumb of critical thought that it’s a wonder she was able to make her way to the correct Washington.  And Elizabeth, whether she likes it or not, is now the mace-drenched face of the fragility of white America when confronted with even modest resistance.  They are born into their wanting beliefs gung ho at the prospect of forcing their perverted worldviews on the rest of us, but always end up in tears, the reality that nobody gives a fuck what they think a weight hanging from their necks and dragging them to the earth.

“We’re storming the Capitol!  It’s a revolution!”

A revolution indeed.  A revolution of the stupid.