To: Some Of You Trump Opponents Out There
From: Mitch Berg, Ornery Peasant
Dear Hollywood and New York Showbiz and Media “Elites”
As we come up on inauguration day, some of you are still sore about Donald Trump. I get it. I mean, I didn’t vote for him, either.
You’d like to pretend he’s not your president. Yadda yadda. Whatever. Gotcha. It’s a free country (and will stay that way, so quit your whining), so you can say what you want, and I can mock you for it. But relax; I’m not mocking you for that. Not now.
No, this is worse.
It’s come to my attention that some of you Hollywood types are calling yourselves “the Resistance”.
You are among the wealthiest, most privileged, most untouchable residents in one of hte wealthiest, most privileged parts of the wealthiest and free-est society in the world. You lost an election. In four years, you’ll get a rematch (although the way you all are going at this point, most of you will stroke out by mid-terms). And you will get the rematch; there’ll be no dictatorships, no camps, no nothing. Why, I bet a President Trump won’t even jabber about siccing the Federal Elections on your blogs, or turn a politicized IRS and DHS loose on your political movements, the way Obama did for eight years. Our democratic process, imperfect as it is, will go on, and if you don’t go full-blown Joan Crawford on us, you might have a shot, again, someday, God help us all.
So stop using – I believe the term these days is “Appropriating” – the term “Resistance”. That’s a term used by people who had actual skin in the game; the Jews who, as disarmed as you want us all to be, fought back against the Nazis in the Warsaw Ghetto; the Norwegians who overcame the impossible and destroyed the Nazi nuke program; the Polish fighters who rose and took Warsaw, only to be betrayed by one dictator and hunted down like rats by another; the Danes who, the risk of a summary execution hanging over their heads, snuck their nation’s Jews out to safety; people who, with all hope extinguished, still pulled together and rose up and, mostly, died, but gave their tormentors and murders and bloody nose and, in a few cases, against higher odds than Michael Moore winning the NYC Marathon, survived the war to witness against their captors.
Real people, who left behind whatever hadn’t been taken from them, and fought a real enemy who promised to kill them and their families if they failed.
Not overpaid, plushbottom Hollywood prima-donnas upset that they can’t install their choice of president by coup now that the hoi polloi have rejected their candidate.
Here’s my promise to you; call yourselves “the resistance” to my face, and I will spit in yours.
That is all.