What do Donald Trump and Donald Duck have in common? They both quack a lot with little under their sailor caps.

I am probably not the only one, but I am one who has listened for many years to the silly and monstrous orations of the post-1960 Republicans (“Oh god! We love Barry Goldwater and hate Nelson Rockefeller”).

I am from Mississippi and well remember Haley Barbour and Trent Lott and the college-boy screeches such ilk sold around the state and ultimately the country. A youngster, Chris McDaniel, bought in and he got a knife in his back for his trouble via the eponymous Brutus Barbour (Lott now is a lobbyist with his old senate buddy, Democrat, John Breaux).

A few along the way, like McDaniel, have (courageously I have to say) continued the belief in such bunkum bosh. They continue the good fight thoroughly outnumbered while every election brings new consequences attached to the old “1960s” call with the children of the old-guard-lying thugs now at the helm. (The Democrats are liars and thugs, but there is no attempt to conceal it. Like stepping around a pile of dog dung, the Demos are right in front of you while the Republicans simply cover themselves with leaves.)

I am now from Texas (and have been for many years) and now we have the leaf-covered Ted Poe who sold Texans for years that he was honorable conservative. Now his leaves are gone and we hope to wipe him off of our shoes.

The Freedom Caucus (the courageous few I mentioned), like the Alamo, tries to hold on while believing help is on the way. I don’t believe it will ever come. A society (a country? c’mon) of over 320 million people with a great number having (to me) the most twisted views of life that earlier generations could ever conceive, putting a Sam Houston-like leader with an army of volunteers together?  Donald Trump ain’t no Sam Houston. And where would he get volunteers with the backbone of men: from the Paul Ryans, or Mitch McConnells?  (deep belly laugh)

So, that great “winner” who sold and told everyone that he was going to drain the swamp is threatening the handful of conservative men who still realize that the continuing corruption in Washington cannot be ended by continuing the corruption. Mr. Win-all-the-time-til-you-get-sick-of-it has learned quickly that talk is cheap, and even cheaper for a billionaire. But the likes of Paul Ryan and Mitch McConnell go home at night and laugh aloud at the thought of Donald thinking he could flush a toilet that not only is full but stopped up. There isn’t a plumber’s helper big enough, even from New York, to do that job.

So, Donald and Donald and Paul and Mitch and Huey, Dewey and Louie, just shut up or go away or… whatever. Who cares.