In the movie Network, Peter Finch eloquently raged: I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore. The movie showed people shouting this from rooftops, at their televisions, and everywhere anyone needed to scream for a well-deserved catharsis. That time has come again, in a way unimagined in our darkest nightmares. Speaking for myself, I can barely open my computer these days without wanting to see it explode the way that computer does in The Good Fight. Not since Network came out in 1976, have the American people—minus the ‘basket of deplorables’—been trapped in an oozing pile of quicksand. Its death grip is so vile that at times we fear we’ll never be able to break free.
I have a solution.

At this point in Trumpsuckian hell, when you think he can go no lower, he does. Nothing surprises and nothing shocks. I want him to be gone so I don’t ever have to hear his voice or see his picture again—but there is nowhere to hide. I try to do everything I can do to quell the stench but as with most of us, nothing we do touches him. We are now constantly told, vote in November. By then, will we still have a country? Will we still be sane?
As an informed person all my life, overseas and at home, I never realized, until now, how much power the executive branch of our government had. With his gross tonnage on the scale, the idea of checks and balances does now not apply—he comes out a winner every time. He has changed the rules of decency and redefined words like intelligence, honesty, and morality—for a start. But I don’t want to digress, repeat all the horrors we find ourselves repeating in a never-ending cycle.
I have a solution.
I am now desperate to do something more. I am with Robert De Niro, in spirit. I as feel as strongly as he does and would love to shout what he said from the rooftops every time I feel my disgust welling up. I do shout it often at the computer. I totally agree with the sentiments of Samantha Bee about Trump’s daughter, but would never debase myself by saying what she said in a public forum. I completely share the spirit of what Kathy Griffin did with his blood dripping head—best he’s ever looked. I use the “f” word a lot but not in public. I never use the “c” word and would never do what Griffin did. Although I might seem hypocritical, I admit a kinship to all their feelings and displays of anger and frustration. I’ll risk the label.
In all the ways he has bastardized the position he holds, the one where I can make a personal statement has to do with his vulgarian approach to language. I can’t and I won’t be dragged down to his level, especially in a public forum. It is heartbreaking to hear, on a daily basis, the impact his foul, scum-filled mouth has had on public figures, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances. I think it would be fair to say they are doing their best to fight fire with fire, pull off the gloves, respond in kind, but in a fight they can never win. The “f” word has become so common I hear it from people I would never have imagined. I was a truck drive for fifteen years so I’ve heard, and said, my share of rough words. I still say all those words and now 45 has forced me into designing strings of epithets I had no idea I had such talent for, ie. pond scum leach infested filth, indecent flea covered rat turd, etc. You get the picture. Most of my offerings are spontaneous outbursts, some worthy of saving, but probably not. At times I feel so much anger I want to spew enough filth to cover any Trumpsuckian situation. Although we feel the anger and the pain I strongly believe we need to keep and remember the good things in our lives, enough to someday reclaim the moral high ground, proving to our kids that we were the gatekeepers, the cultural and intellectual guardians of civility and decency and what is right.
Since retirement I have subbed at least once a week in the high school where Susan works but feel like such a fraud whenever I hear inappropriate language used arbitrarily, as it is everywhere. My response, if I am to tow the line, is to remind kids of their transgression by simply saying, “language.” They hear it everywhere; TV, movies, social media, constantly reinforced, 24/7, by the worst excuse of a human being I have ever been exposed to. There is no red line anymore. I have never considered myself a prude, but when it’s in my face all the time, listening to the influence it has on kids, trying to set a good example makes me feel like the world’s biggest hypocrite. I will not buckle, I will not lower myself to the giant flea bitten Turds depths.
So what’s my solution? It’s a lot like what Peter Finch had to offer: catharsis.
The expression SHUT UP has been on the minds of educations, especially those who deal with younger kids, for decades. Kids are told these words can be as hurtful as any standard four-letter word, especially when used to make fun or hurt other kids’ feelings. But we are all adults, so please forgive me if my suggestion/solution involves the use of the word SHUT UP. Mind you, not shut the “f” up, or “shut your f—ing mouth,” just the words SHUT UP. That’s what I want to say the fake, corrupt hunk of sleaze running our country; non stop, all the time, joined by millions who hate the idea of his existence, telling him he has no, none, zero respect from the overwhelming majority of Americans who didn’t elect him.

SHUT UP!!! This is the strongest message I can think of without debasing myself, falling into his rat filled cesspool. Part of my proposal is to replicate what actors did in Network, shout these words from the rooftops, all the time, anytime a person needs relief. I want to silence him in the most disrespectful way I can. SHUT UP!!!! Whenever I hear anything about him: SHUT UP!!! Whenever I need to make a comment to a story online: SHUT UP!!!! Not from the point of view I am hiding out in my head, or in the sand, or to avoid what’s going on, but to mute his dirty mouth, his filthiness, his indecency, his uncivilly. SHUT UP!!! to 45, to the man we did not elect, to the obscene dirt bag desecrating the office of the president. It makes me feel better in my own way, to tell him to SHUT UP!!!! You are not my president, you do not represent me; in a political sense, as human being, or any way imaginable.
If I could, I would use GofundMe to raise money to buy a full-page ad in the New York Times: see the attached example. Unfortunately, a full-page ad runs $150,000.00. Could I ever hope to ask for that much cash when there are so many people and organizations in need? I don’t think so, but what a message it would send.
SHUT UP!!! SHUT UP!!! SHUT UP!!! SHUT UP!!! you lewd, immoral, rude, obnoxious, moron. Think how that would look in a full-page ad in the New York Times. Okay, done. Writing this and imagining the ad are part of my catharsis. Hope this gives many of you a way to deal.

Please forgive me, I lied, it’s not really a solution, but it’s all I’ve got. Good luck to us all.