The meatless gangs … nee Vegans …  roaming amongst us sure have created a maelstrom of negativity.

I’ll spare you all the “Vegan Facts” like better for the environment … better for your own health … better for the animals in our food chain … and it tastes good, too.

But there’s one group of folks who are literally in a state of near riot over the recent spate of meatless products.

They’re not a bunch of cattle driving, calf branding cowboys shooting up the sheep herders to preserve their way of life in the now Less-Wilder-New-Old West!

Nope … we’re dealing with Evangelical Christians who believe in their fundamental heart-of-hearts that not eating meat is the equivalent of the eighth deadliest sin.

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Enter stage left … oops … scrap that … enter stage right.

He would be Right Wing Pastor … “The Rev of the Political Right” … “The Get Right with Christ” TV Host for those believers who pray with hands glued to their flat screens … the host of his own TruNews Wednesday night broadcasts … the pastor of Flowing Streams Church in Vero Beach, Flori-duh … Rick Wiles.

Wiles “steaks out” his position:  Meatless meat is a “Luciferian plot to get people to fall from God’s graces.”

Corporations will soon be selling nothing but plants denying you God’s natural creation … be it Bossie or Ferdinand on-the-hoof … the Little Red Hen … Bo Beep’s sheep shank … or one of the Three Little Pigs.

And when you partake of the plant based food foisted on you that looks, smells,  and tastes like meat … you’re headed right down the path of sin … batta-boom-batta-bing … the slippery slope to Hell.

In other words … Wiles believes “manufactured meats” are the 21^st century version of the new “gateway drug.”

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When you buy this “fake meat” you’ve entered the nightmare world of corporations who “play God” and feed you only what’s “grown in their own laboratories.”

These godless corporations want to “bring more people to Satan.”  For what purpose?

According to Wiles’ theory … if you can call it “theory” … when you eat lab grown plants, your DNA is changed … and overtime you’ll become subhuman.  Because you’re no longer human, you are no longer “eligible” for Jesus’ salvation.

And since you can’t be saved … you ain’t headed to heaven to sit at the right hand of God!

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Holy shit … since I’m neither Vegan nor am I Christian … my theory is that I’m “saved.”

I’ll drink to that … pass the vodka, please!

Just sayin’ …

When he who shall remain nameless as well as brainless heard there was actually a poetic plea attached to the Statue of Liberty which welcomed poor people of all races to our shores … he was shocked and revolted.

So our pea brained Imposter President immediately ordered his newest Acting-Whatever … Ken Cuccinelli … his latest WWWHWSA … West Wing White House White Supremacy Advisor … to cleanse the poem and rewrite history.

Responding as only the newest West Wing lap dog could … “Cucch” promptly teamed up with Herr Stephen Miller … aka the Exalted Cyclops of the local White House Klan …  who also serves in the capacity of the “White House White Supremacy Laureate.”

Their goal?

To rewrite the world renown Emma Lazarus poetry, “The New Colossus” creating … “The Newer Colossus.”

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Lazarus’ original work …

The New Colossus

“Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land,

Here at our sea-washed, sun-set gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles.  From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome, her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips.  “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

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The Newer Colossus

“Like a brazen giant of Nordic shame,

With PED enhanced limbs stretched from land to land,

Here at the polluted Hudson, behind locked gates shall stand,

An orange-tanned white male with a torch, whose flame shines

From his coiffed comb-over, and his name is Grand

Perpetrator of White Supremacy.  From his beacon-hand

Burns hate, fear, and contempt, his beady eyes defend

The oil-slicked harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries he

With pouty lips.  Give me your Danes, your Swedes,

Your Norwegian masses yearning to be Americans free

To hate wretched Browns and Blacks on our teeming shores.

So send the shapely-assed, the hugely-breasted,

I’ll fondle their “nethers” behind my golden doors.”

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It could be worse … but I don’t know how.

Just sayin’ …

I’ve had it with the debate season and lifelong campaign seasons.

We’re hopelessly stuck now that our “political season” has been taken over by Mr. Reality TV … the Orange Man …  that bloated whiner who once was the figment of my imagination and now is the reality of my nightmares.

I have this terrible urge to rid myself of all possessions … radicalize my life …  follow the “Yellow Brick Road” of HGTV … and start all over again.

I can’t handle it anymore … I think I want a “Tiny House.”

But … before I do the fifth most stupid thing in my life I have some questions.

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ARE TINY HOUSE PEOPLE REAL?

No one can be that happy.  Where’s all their stuff?

It’s un-American to not have a drawer dedicated to underwear!  You can’t cook if you own only one pot!  Where’s the 76” LED surround sound flat screen TV?

There needs to be a repeat visit.  I want to see their insipid smiling face two-and-a-half years after their TV appearance.

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WHERE’S YOUR ALCOHOL STORED?

C’mon, Man!  You can’t be drinking just one bottle of wine … one liter of vodka.

Where’re the mixers?  No Scotch, bourbon, Compari, Goslings?

Whatta you drink from … a Flintstone jelly glass?

>No way there’s an icemaker in that Tiny House tinier fridge!

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WHAT ABOUT … “THE FACILITIES?”

As a guy, there’re lots of times I can “go outside” when Old Lady Nature calls.

But I like toilet space … it’s not my cuppa tea to be able to s**t and shave without having to get up and move … call me spoiled!

And sorry … I’m just not into a “compost toilet” … flush that s**t right outta my life … pull the chain and away it goes to be processed far-far-away … from me!

WASHER & DRYER?

Sorry Tiny House folks … I no longer do Laundromats! Gave up that trip when I got my college degree … thought that was one of the top “perks” from my education.

Right on the back of the diploma it was stamped … “No More Laundromats Ever!”

And I’m not sure I can handle washing/drying my dirty laundry one-item-at-a-time!

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I know life moves forward in cycles … what goes around comes around … history repeats itself … besides the very first place I lived could’ve been a Tiny House instead of what I called it … “THE DUMP.”

Just sayin’ …