Taking Note of a Few Things: The Inner and Outer Circle Edition

Many years ago, without trying too, I found myself a part of a principle’s inner circle when I worked for him. I ended up being privy to information I had no interest in, primarily because it came off too much like office gossip. It’s one thing to be asked for an opinion on a matter, and another to be told what was happening as a way to gauge my support.

Eventually, the day arrived where I expressed my opposition to a plan and just like that, I was cast out, banished with others waiting for staff meetings to get information.

Blind loyalty results in more stress and sleepless nights than knowing you can provide your boss with an honest opinion and not be made to be a traitor.

We now live in a nation where our leaders, Presidents Musk and Trump, expect blind loyalty. Worse, they have no problem going to great lengths to make examples of people whose biggest crime is possessing a different perspective.

To date, this approach has cost thousands their jobs, failed to create a single new job, has eliminated any government oversight, and poses a serious threat to our system of government. Then again, if you voted for our Turds in Chief, you are probably okay with all of this and I am just singing to the choir, the one with only Christian heterosexuals as members.

Here’s the thing, I figure in another four years, our next elected leader will be undoing everything Musk America Great Again does. That, or California, and other states, leave the union. But no matter who is left to clean up the rubble of our government, you can bet there will be a nation of Mini Trumps who incorporate the same tactics at the places of work they run.

Followers are not all that bright. They find life much simpler to grasp by handing over all their thinking to people like their supervisors, ministers, union heads, and school boards. All have been known to demand blind loyalty and have never had a problem relying on fear to make you capitulate.

My eighth-grade PE teacher, Mr. Moreno, was a great guy who often answered students’ questions with, “Don’t think, just react. I’ll do all the thinking,” or “Yours is not to question why, yours is but to do or die.” His approach worked great in early 1970’s junior high school, but not so much in a world connected to social media.

The sooner people learn that their superiors are far more likely to use them to climb the corporate/social ladder, the sooner we can rid ourselves of the refuse we call American culture.

Racism is no longer our biggest issue. As far as I can see, we have become a nation of haters of any and all things that dare disagree with how we think. It is why compromise has gone from being a strength to a weakness in the past two decades. Sharing is out and greed is in. Teamwork is no longer as important as backstabbing and who you align yourself with is who you can expect to have as friends, followers, and references. One wrong choice and you are sent to the Island of Misfits, forever cancelled.

It’s no surprise that while all of this has unfolded, we have also morphed into a nation where appearance is more important than substance. Essentially, we are a nation forever stuck in our high school years which is why we are falling further behind the sane world.

When an old and feeble Mitch McConnell is the only member of his party with the cajones to call out our pile of crap Turds in Chief — we really do live in an alternate universe. And this is not to just pick on the GOP. Democrats are still scratching their heads trying to figure out how they lost a presidential election to a convicted felon when they ran a former California State Attorney General against him.

Our congress and administration is now filled with a bunch of dumb jocks who used to light their farts in high school gym class . They conduct themselves in the most vicious manner and then turn to smile for the camera and brag about their good work. The only good they can do is fall into the festering swamp they have created and be eaten alive by crocodiles.

The only people working in government are the half dozen pimple popping computer whizzes looking to extract all out personal and financial information for President Musk. Diaper Don doesn’t care, just as long as the Gulf of Mexico is renamed because that is how low the bar has been set for political accomplishment.

Here is how sick our leadership is. Gaza has a better chance of receiving U.S. funds to turn it into a nice place for anyone but Palestinians to live than any of our failing cities. Greenland and Ukraine have vital minerals for President Musk’s projects so they will receive greater attention than our public schools, homeless shelters, hospitals, seniors, and children combined.

And still, Democrats are left scrambling to make sense of last November while citizens can’t be bothered to speak out because this is all too complicated to fit into a meme or eight second TikTok video. It’s no wonder our founding fathers are not rolling in their graves, but rather, looking to Europe for new cemeteries to rest in peace.

Fortunately, the great letch, Hegseth, has already improved our military with one simple commercial that claims, “Stronger is harder to kill.” Our enemies are dying of laughter over that one considering our average soldier has not looked down and seen his feet since we pulled out of Afghanistan. They are about to be replaced by a bunch of fat goose wobbling heterosexual teens who can’t hold a thought, let alone carry a rucksack.

I was wrong when I previously claimed my generation of diabetic ridden Boomers will be the first not to leave behind a better nation for our younger generations. They have made damn sure they will, even if it is a third world dictatorship that has more in common with Venezuela than (feel free to pick any democracy).

I am not sure if I am to thank President Trump or President Musk, but it only took one of them a month to win the war on drugs. Unfortunately, corner crack dealers have been replaced by egg dealers, but at least eggs are not a gateway drug to harder stuff. Still, I saw some homeless dudes around the corner from me shooting up egg whites the other morning.

The other day, I tried to show up to a White House press conference and was told my credential had been revoked. I swear I thought the Gulf of Mexico was changed to the Gulf of Hitler. All I wanted to ask Trump was if his morning breakfast included a bowl of Special KKK. I assumed he eats it straight and foregoes fruits.

Editor’s note: The White House press office told us they didn’t appreciate you lighting your farts on a couch in the Oval Office.

I am sure this comes across as me hating our current government. That is not entirely true. I give our new-old administration credit for finding a way to shut up Marjorie Taylor Green and make us forget Lorena Brobert Bobber is recruiting voters at a frat house near you.

What does any of this have to do with me being part of the inner or outer circle? Like most everything else I write about, I haven’t a clue. I suppose I am just flattered that I am part of the inner circle of The Los Angeles Post-Examiner, although I must question my editor, Tim Forkes, and his decision making. Afterall, I am not so sure I want to belong to any group that will include me in their inner circle.

Editor’s Note: Actually we set the bar very, very low when it comes to filling our inner circle. We don’t mind it when you light your farts at all the office parties.

Until next time, hang in there until the goon squad shows up with a noose.