The upcoming election is a circus and there seems to be no alternative.

The MSM likes this as it is good for ratings and padding the bottom line and the majority of us are left behind.

Alternative choices are given the previous Bernie blacklist to maintain the status quo.

Cornel West is an alternative but he has more or less been shadow banned.

This video is an actual alternative what could be possible.

Worth a view!

In just a few hours, the filth, the pig, the enemy of life, the choleric sewage, the anathema, the imp of satan, will surrender his lifelong guilty ass, to Fani—black, and I mean all the way, both ways, woman—Willis.

Motherfucker.

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Tonight’s Republican debate is difficult to stream live unless you wear a swastika armband. But I went down to the basement and activated the time machine and there went into the future to look back at the thing, and so now I can offer a Report. Below are summaries of each candidate’s wisdoms:

Ron DeSadist: “As governor of Florida I defeated Mickey Mouse, and also gays who were transgendering, and now I am the only candidate with the courage to, as president, shoot a migrant child in the forehead, and every morning, and then throw its body onto an eternal flame of woke books I have banned. I will make the Kleagle look like Heidi. Come march on a road of bones with me.”

Uncle Tom Scott: “Pay no attention to my melanin. I will whip the woke hard as any white man.”

Whenever there is some major expression of nature—hurricane, earthquake, volcano—the humans decry it as a disaster, something unrelievedly bad. I wondered, t'other night, if that was actually true. And so, I went to the tubes. And there I learned that the planet actually wants, needs, these things. That's. Why they're here.

Without volcanoes, for instance, all the humans would have to grow gills and live in the water, like Mr. Limpet. Because volcanoes make the land. More than eighty percent of the terra is there because some volcano told it to be. Even the sea floor is a volcano invention. Also, volcano burps made the atmosphere. So, if you don't want volcanoes, you can't have any of the breathing.

Coal wants to be underground. It does not want to come out. We know this because once it is disturbed it is everywhere making a mess. Like of this German miner, awaiting his turn in the communal showers, in Gelsenkirchen, in 1958.

A passing space alien looks at this, and wonders, “they think this is a good idea?”

“They also eat mayonnaise,” says another alien.

“The horror,” blanches the first, “the horror.”

“Let us go instead to a world where they do not turn themselves into moles to burn off their atmosphere, then sit in that seppuku, eating slimy grease from big-ass glass jars,” suggests the second.

“Yes,” replies the first, “what you said.”