And/or come here from a hellish dimension outside it, as in Terry Pratchett novels and similar.

Gawd, possibly, is dead — of his pity for intelligence/wit/common sense hath Gawd died.

Amazing, is right. In (more) typical US election years, I follow events with interest, and some amusement (though only slightly more of the latter than with the politics of my own country). Meaning absolutely no disrespect whatever: US politics provide better entertainment, at least to outsiders, than those of almost…

Er... I dunno if you recall the days of dial-up modems, when line noise or something would sometimes cause stray text characters to show up.

And then of course there’s the evergreen “he’s just saying what everyone else is thinking” — as if this is praiseworthy.

“And the words of the prophets were written on the highway signs ...”

Which could be a particularly clever form of disguise. Many people, assuming most other people won’t take such an obvious buffoon seriously, could be lulled into a false sense of security. If such was his plan, it’s been working fairly well.

Why, thank’ee. (looks down, scuffs dirt with toe; then nods stoically, leads horse out of town toward sunset, quietly whistling high, lonesome tune).

GreatGawdawmighty. I’d only the vaguest notion before this. I’m not sure whether to bookmark that page, or clear my browser cache and history, scour my eyeballs, and...

It’s hard to believe that a major-party Presidential candidate, ostensibly an adult, is both (a) walking around publicly describing other adults, in all seriousness, as “dummies,” and (b) being taken seriously by some significant number of other ostensible adults.

And what’s more, the worse the pun, the better — by which standard, that was one of the best. It’s a world-turned-upside-down form of humor: the last shall be first, &c. That’s why a pun is the lowest (meaning, of course, the highest) form of wit.

And the difference between a naked, and a scantily-clad, criminal syndicate is what, again?

Me, I’d evade if evenly matched, too. A fair fight is the second-last kind I’d want to join in.

I kinda like the jacket too, even though the material reminds me of a (slightly unfortunate, in retrospect) double-breasted suit I had in the 80s.

It’s not just you. Now, I might prefer to go see Burrito Riot. But Taco Riot works too.

Trouble is, the Yanks have been onto us for decades now. They know the signs.

This one is still my favourite:

Pop-tarts, cucumbers, burritos... Food seems to figure largely in these items.

What kills me is that all these items being with a careful note of the time. I’m hearing Sgt. Joe Friday in my head. (Talk about dating myself, though that show was really from my parents’ youth and I saw it very rarely, in re-runs as they were called. Rats, did it again).

Thankfully, that is an ex-Canadian.