The Revolution Is Underway Full Tilt

Chugging through America’s atherosclerotic rail artery. As I tap this Mrs. L and I are all aboard the Amtrak regional to the sump pump of the swamp, Washington DC. We just pulled out of Penn Station, the most antiquated and anachronistic and antediluvian and ossified and concretized shithole of shitholes. A virtual human detritus arcade. The tabernacle of the psychiatrically bereft. The cathedral of Black Belt crackers. An assault on the olfactories. My God, what have I done! (Echoing Byrne.) Shoeless, toothless, senseless, reality-less urchins and spent souls, tattered and distraught while discarded. Mumbling nonsensical threats and belches through teeth like piano keys, a 10-year-old scruff, watery eyes and breath that could smelt ore. God’s children perhaps but transient nightmares. The travelers’ trauma. The commuters’ Cuckoo’s Nest. And Amtrak “police” do nothing, these fat sloths and tenterbellied oafs grazing about waiting to retire. Every conceivable loon and batshit crazy ambulatory schiz scaring the shit out of the innocent tourist is here. You can always tell the hardcore New Yorker who will not so much as shift a smidgeon of their atomic footprint, not one molecule or neuron firing recognition or acknowledgement as some demented vagrant voice-farts something about a dollar, coffee or Edward Witten’s hypotheses on supersymmetry. Ah, New York. Meanwhile the meanest, nastiest, rudest Amtrak . . . get this . . . CUSTOMER SERVICE agent greets us. CUSTOMER SERVICE?! Bwahahaha! This guy makes Ed Gein look like Robert Q. Lewis and, no, I have no idea what that means. Ah, Penn Station. The depot time forgot. The posterchild of the decline of infrastructure. While China and virtually every developmentally relevant society rolls out the latest in locomotion from Maglev to HyperSpace to InterDimensional whatever we’ve got Floyd Smoot and the Cannonball. But when you have to peregrinate to Swamp City DC, it’s the best ticket in town. Amtrak, Hunter Biden’s quarry and Creepy Joe’s mark. Amtrak, the apex of American locomotion and travel. And have you ever been in a Club Acela? Egad! You can luxuriate in a place that’s a cross between an ICE Detention Center and a Super 8 lobby. To be sure, they don’t let just anyone greet Acela dupes conned into this First Class dreamscape, no siree, Bob. Nope, they get the best to man the front desk. Think rejects from a Tilt-A-Whirl midway concession in Dothan. We’re talking rough. Enough with that, now the critical data.
 
Donald Trump is a genius. Not just a stable one. Just a bona fide genius. There appears to be in fact and on display a Trump Doctrine. And with 292 days until the election this is not good news for the intellectually disaffected Dems, Never Trumpers and terminally-afflicted TDS livestock. This is the worst of news for these miserable naysayers without a plan, hope, vision, dream . . . name it. These are very bad times. The worst of times. His latest brilliance was on full display last eve in Milwaukee, site of the Demoncratic National Convention in July. From the moment he hit the stage until he walked off 90 minutes later (with no water sippage, no can breaks . . . is he running a Foley, for Chrissake?) he had them in the palm of his hand and he was again masterful and how this must gripe their arse, those rancid Dems.
 
‘O Sole Mio’s dead and no one gives a shit. You know it’s true. Casey Kasem Salami was surgically dispatched and evaporated over a flame, hit by a missile with a precision that knows no equal. Meanwhile, Iranian geniuses blew out of the sky innocent passengers on a Ukrainian flight. Whoops. And have you heard this tack? While this story was being reported those quisling bastards at NPR went overtime reminding the world of how American error blew out of the sky an Iranian passenger plane in 1988. Can you believe these vermin? Stick to the point, Ayatollah Assahollah. Focus on your own Iranian numbnuts (cf. Deez Nuts) and targeting morons who are confounded by innocents on regulated flight paths. And here’s the best part, Demoncrats, unable still to even approximate a message, are now demanding to know the particular bases of definitional parameters of the imminent (not eminent) threat POTUS employed in assessing the threat posture of this (now) grease spot. They’re simply unbelievable.
 
Rerun of Season One. Have you heard the latest iteration of Russia, Russia, Russia, the Russophobic Kremlin-bashing redbaiting Cold War carping, bleating, barking seal circus act and feigned histrionics? Oh, you did, huh? Then explain it. Go ahead, we’ll wait. But let me save you some time. It’s in fact what is blatantly, nakedly and obviously a limited hangout in preparation for and anticipation of something tastily nasty from perhaps the illegally confined Assange and his merry band of WikiLeaker prankster journos laying the groundwork to expose and (if there’s a Gawd) indict Creepy Joe et fils. Remember, the Ukrainian subject model will prove to be the most incomprehensibly stupid move when Poor Ol’ Pelosi allowed her misfits to run roughshod: So where are they now? At what stage do they enjoy? Reruns. Season One. Back to the drawing board. The impeachment, fraud, Ukraine and Obstruction of Whatever slumgullion gumbo accusation they’ve mixed together yet again. If it weren’t so tragic and pathetic, it would be (as the kids say) hilarious. And look at who’s pushing this yarn. Yep, the usual suspects. Seriously, no need to even comment here. Trust me.
 
What the hell happened to these folks, Sparky? #FoxNews has become museum quality paleoconservatism without the paleo or the conservatism. It’s maundering populism couched in celebratory echolalia. Tried, spent and prime for displacement by the new, bold and fearless truth warrior. Think I’m kidding? These folks keep regurgitating the same rote presentation with a ball-less vim, scaredy-cat approximations of real critical news that would wow the masses and (as we say in West Tampa say) KNOCK THEIR D-CK IN THE DIRT. Why must news be so boring? Trite and manicured and trimmed and leveled and beveled to fit in a nice carrying case, free of the sharp edges that excite and incite and invite. Will someone please tell me! My colleagues from heritage talk radio are like the Japanese soldier who doesn’t know the war’s over. It’s not 1988. No more Rush wannabes. No more headline rippers. Please, not for our sake but for yours, wake up and grow up. This is serious bidness, Sparky.
 
There’s a simple reason why #Megxzit captivates me. Because I love to see these inbred homozygotes fail, screw up and plummet to dirt where they belong. Harry turned out to redefine schmuckhood when he hooked up with this viper, Double-M. Dear Gawd, terminally p-whipped. Maybe it was part and parcel of his self-destructive tack perhaps over the fact that he never bought the fantasy that his Mum was killed in a tragic “accident.” Especially with beady-eyed amphibian (not full-reptile yet) Phil lurking in the background. Watch. After a short spell, he’ll divorce MM and crawl back to the Royals, shorn, shot and shat on.
 
Lionel’s Pop-Up Road Show Invades Again. Take note. On January 22, Wednesday, 2020 CE from 6-8:30 PM ET in Amenia, NY, as in Dutchess County, I’ll be laying out the groundwork to the success and triumph of this noble republic via my blockbuster, sui generis, nonpareil and simply off-the-chain (out)spoken word presentation (others would call it “stand up,” never I) as spellbound diners howl with delight. The place is Monte’s Local Kitchen & Tap Room. Here are the details. But arrange now your schedule. Hie! Seats are limited and fire marshal rules limit human cacophonies in extreme. TICKETS HERE
 
How do I follow this Lionel feller? TwitterFacebookInstagram, the Lionel Media website and browse the merchandise, memorabilia and marketing available at the Official Lionel Nation Gear Store and above all, the Lionel Nation YouTube Channel where we engage in immersive, totally interactive live stream broadcasts twice daily. It leaves antediluvian talk radio in the dust. Where it shall remain. And when it comes to the moiety of the team, Mrs. L can be followed thusly on Twitter. Please also refer to Mrs. L’s Focus on Human Trafficking channel. Please, watch her video with an emergency room pediatrician; it’s simply chilling.

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