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Jeff Sessions, Jesus Christ and Reefer Madness

Gnome Takes Axe to Drug War Reform

A New York Times article recently reported on research that showed many conservatives don’t really care what politicians like Donald Trump and Jeff Sessions believe or even about the policies they pursue; what they most love about these fellows is how they smack down liberals and leftists and like to rub their noses in the fact Hillary Clinton lost the election. It appears to be the case that calling leftists terrible names and ridiculing them with that special sadistic edge may be a better high than doing a bong hit while listening to the Moody Blues' “Tuesday Afternoon.”

Jeff Sessions seems a likeable, diminutive, gnome-like fellow. I’m sure he’s the life of the party, even if he only drinks red Kool Aid. I perceive a kindly quality about him; I’d even say there’s something incongruously “cute” about his facial aspect. Every time I see him on TV, he always seems a bit perplexed and a little vulnerable. Maybe that has to do with the possibility, in the midst of this crazy Russia-collusion hysteria, he can hear the bloodhounds baying in the woods and is having second thoughts about signing on with the Trump insurgency. In European myth, gnomes were dwarfish figures who lived underground and spent their lives guarding buried treasure. As attorney general, you might say he guards our constitutional system of laws, and many people go on and on about how the Constitution of the United States is our national treasure. So maybe there’s something to the Sessions-as-gnome idea. It would be interesting to see what comes up on an Ancestry.com search, where people can send in a gob of spit and “Discover what makes you uniquely you.” Like the story about a “white” police sergeant from Michigan who was shocked to learn from Ancestry.com that he was 18 percent African, it’s hard to say what impact discovering gnome DNA in his genes would have on Mr. Sessions and his career.

I’m re-reading Kurt Vonnegut’s wonderful novel Slaughterhouse Five, and Vonnegut has the classic absurdist rejoinder for all this cultural towel-snapping and horsing around: “So it goes.” Life is a many-hued carnival, something Mr. Sessions might be more accepting of if he took an evening with some of his hipper friends to get out of the straight-jacket of madness he’s strapped himself into, put on a classic Alabama anthem and inhale on one of those nifty vaporizers. Visualize our gnomish attorney general with a gentle buzz leaning back in his Barcalounger, his trusty dog Jeff Davis asleep by his side, listening to those great fiddles on “Song Of The South.” Lord have mercy!



story | by Dr. Radut