Yaga, or A New Hope

I don't often disagree with Brother Charles Pierce, but this is what he wrote about yesterday's Old Man Yells At Cloud and Press event on the White House lawn:

"More than the now-customary untruths and self-congratulations, the president* looked and sounded awful, wheezing like a man coming off a fourteen-day bender during which he'd accidentally stumbled into a atahusca session on his way to KFC.  This is not a good time for the old republic."

I had to look it up.  Atahuasca, a/k/a yaga, is a hallucinogenic herb used ceremonially by the people of the Amazon basin.  But that's not important now.  The take-away is that if this obese 72-year-old crammed with who knows what pharmaceuticals really wants to be leader-for-life like the dictators he adores, that life may not be too long.  The mental decrepitude is obvious to all but his knuckle-dragging followers.  He needs both hands to drink a glass of water, or struggle down the steps of his plane.  A regimen of junk food and an aversion to exercise will unquestionably age you, as will doctors who don't tell you the truth.  (Whatever became of Ronny Jackson?  He disappeared like a fart in a hurricane.)  Those uncontrollable rages drive up the blood pressure, too.

In short, Brother Pierce, this is potentially the best time the old republic has seen for years.  A state funeral costs a lot less than an impeachment, even if you have to hire mourners.  It takes less time and the result is certain.  We just need to keep him raging and wheezing until the diseased old carcass gives out.  The conspiraciologists will go into overtime, but fuck them.

Where can I get a YAGA hat?