Donald Trump Was An Orange Herring/this Bleat/the lowest Twitterdämmerung of Hell.

 

 

Charlie Sykes, in 1988, wrote a book marking him for the first time as a national personality, ProfScam he entitled it. 

 

An Orange ... well, not "herring."

 

Charlie Sykes would have been the perfect gentleman to write a hypothetical book:  call it, "How the Left lost it's Mind." 

 

Instead Charlie, old Charlie did, he wrote a different book.  I  haven't read it but I can judge by its title what it might be about. 

 

...

                                                      Orange, yes ... but ... 
 

Fast forward to use a trite cliche to more recent times, along with the others hot on the scent of what we deem here, "orange herring" old Charlie migrated understandably over to "bluesky."

 

Bluesky, home of the self-chewwing up but not self-spitting out "Blue Ouroboros (accent on the second syllable please?)" as we've chosen deeming it.

 

Bluesky is better than the  lowest Twitterdämmerung of Hell known as "X" for "Xavier."

 

San Xavier, like the shiny white mission.

 

Only this "mission" Charlie is on is not nearly so shiny. Nor nearly so white. In fact it's a very dark shade indeed, a very dark shade of gray area.

 

You see, Charlie is flying the ill-faded flag. Charlie is singing the Sirene Song of the Full Circe political Ulysses-Magellans Lapu-Lapu-ing after the Great Orange ... well not herring.

 

This one's for real. 

 

 All's well that starts well ...

 

Well, not really. Start with this bleat (bluesky's version of a tweet):

 

 


 

Mr. ProfScam did, he certainly seems if memory serves to have done, shared it.

 

It was a re-bleat.

 

So good so far.

 

But then ...  

 

 

                                                       Not a Herring.

 

What happened?

 

Precisely.

 

What?

 

What happened? 

... 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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