What happened in this last election was a bit of manipulation and a whole lot of anger.
And it’s all about the Browning 410 shotgun that my friend in Washington keeps in his back closet.
My friend is a great artist who doesn’t know he’s a great artist, which is great because I can buy his stuff cheap and don’t have to put up with one of those huge overblown artist’s egos (like my own). Anyway, metaphorically, my friend the great artist suffers from a condition whereby when he gets ahead (one of his pieces sells for a big sum) he has to do something to counteract this good news. Last time this happened he got the big check and then went out and bought a moose head. He has no wall to hang it on. It is now in his garage on the floor behind the treadmill he’s never been on. He also needs help coming up with the four figure taxes that were not deducted from the check he got. We call this the “Browning Effect.”
Metaphorically, it’s like sitting in splendor on your chaise lounge out on the veranda, having a mint julep to celebrate after you’ve brought the Browning 410 out to accompany you. First you have a sip of the drink and then gentle back and reflect on how great things have become, and then you take the .410 Browning, aim at your left big toe and pull the trigger. My friend then screams, hops around, gets bandaged up and retires the 410 to its closet. He calls me. I counsel him and tell him that the toe will grow back and things will get better. He feels better, although will remain in pain for some time to come. He waits in hope for his next painting to sell. I wait in dread.
America just pulled out its metaphorical Browning 410 and blew its proverbial big toe off. There’s going to be some pain.
