Jan. 22nd, 2017

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So, they inaugurated Trump. And, like, because my brain has spent two and half months doing the Signal Not Found thing at the very notion of President Donald Trump I didn't realise how much denial I'd been in. That on some level I'd been assuming that it wouldn't actually happen, that something so catastrophically damaging that he'd be forced to stand down would come to light, or that he'd be caught on camera taking off his person suit like in that episode of The Simpsons (what, they were right about the presidency.)

It turns out that blind refusal to accept reality doesn't work, who knew.

Speaking of abject refusal of objective fact, I wonder how long it'll take to discover what the Trump people were trying to distract from by screaming about the inauguration numbers. I suspect that the next four years are going to be a good time to bury the lede; even today in the UK the headline was PATHOLOGICAL LIAR LIES, and way, way down in second place was THAT TIME WE NEARLY NUKED FLORIDA AND FORGOT TO TELL ANYONE, LOL.

Speaking of our vainglorious leaders, Theresa May seems to have decided to drive us all off the Brexit cliff edge, apparently emboldened by the way Donald Trump decidedly didn't promise Michael Gove a trade deal. I can almost enjoy the irony that the selfsame people who were screaming British sovereignty! at the top of their lungs are now so eager to hurry us into our inevitable future as Airstrip One, then I remember that this is really happening.

And Nicola Sturgeon, despite her almost heroic efforts to avoid saying the words: 'second independence referendum' out loud or in the vicinity of any recording devices, has backed herself into a corner where she either has to call a second referendum that she probably can't win or be seen as totally ineffective when it comes to dealing with the Tories over Brexit.

I voted for independence last time, and maybe I'm just that much more cynical now, but I feel like the choice right now would be between being Cold Greece inside the EU or a wholly owned subsidiary of Little England and by extension the Trump Corporation outside it. I mean, I know what I'd chose, but still.

In conclusion, Dear Talisker distillery, take all my money, send scotch.

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