The Penis Parade

Everybody loves a parade. I still remember the time I attended the St. Patrick's Day parade in New Orleans with my two daughters. You don't have to be Irish to get caught up in the revelry, snatching beads out of the air while we dodged whole cabbages being hurled from floats like missiles.

Missiles. There was no kimchi flying into the cheering crowd during the parade in North Korea the other day, no necks laden with beads. But that didn't appear to dampen the enthusiasm of the crowd. It's a matter of taste, I suppose, but some folks just get off on a march of missiles, some encased in outsized camouflage canisters, some emblazoned with ominous black lettering. Yes, I know that a cigar is, sometimes, just a cigar. But I cannot help but think this is just a high stakes sword fight, frat boy style. There's no morning after, for these two, though; no pounding headache tinged with regret. There is no break in the whipping out, just to see whose is bigger.

It's become a bit surreal, this post-November 8, 2016 world. It's a world in which once rational people can now feel an inexplicable loathing for the Easter Bunny. Ironic, that our bumbling and ignorant White House press secretary has Easter Bunny on his resume. Actually, it makes a lot of sense that his career would have included a position that involved neither speech nor thought. Pity that he somehow made it out of that rabbit hole into this one.

But here we are, applauding all the penis waving while we have absolutely no idea what either one of these poor excuses for humans (much less leaders) will do next, and neither one cares what anyone thinks as long as they can enjoy some eye popping applause. The "wow" factor -- it's intoxicating. There is little incentive for either one of them to keep it in their pants.

But at least we are pivoting toward normalcy. The White House Easter Egg Roll must go on, and Melania will slum it at the White House tomorrow. A big test for our new first frau, as she tries to exude warm and fuzzy while her stilettos get stuck in the mud. Steve Bannon may have been silenced in recent days, but there's no reason to think he won't be unmasked as the new mascot. Note to Jewish kids: skip the Egg Hunt this year. And careful when you leave, guys; they hired Wile Coyote to stuff the goody bags, and you know how he gets when he smells bunny.

Where do we go from here? Just hope they don' mess with the Tooth Fairy.