The central transmission station for anti-Trump propaganda at the Washington Post is throwing a tantrum after their big scoop alleging that the presumptive GOP nominee had once made phone calls pretending to be his own spokesman failed spectacularly. The John Miller (also John Barron) tape was to be the greatest controversy since the old fossil Bob Woodward himself made his name by taking down Richard M. Nixon over Watergate. However, the sloppily manufactured faux scandal was greeted by the sound of crickets as it was more a show of how desperate that the WAPO has become in scraping the bottom of the barrel to find something – anything – that will stick to Trump. Alas, you just can’t make chicken shit into chicken salad.

When the Miller stories fell flat the WAPO engaged in what can only be described as throwing another collective tantrum, particularly at the vaunted Editorial Board which has served as a forum for war pimps and a pulpit for neocon swine for years. Not only Trump but the laptop warriors flogged Reince Priebus like an errant mule that has stopped responding to the commands of it’s owner.  “Reince Priebus, Fool” wrote Richard Cohen, former Bush regime speechwriter Michael Gerson chimed in with “Conservatives make a deal with the devil”, the Editorial Board raved about “The rank nihilism driving the GOP’s acceptance of Trump”, Media blogger Eric Wemple was wailing “Does Trump believe anything that he tweets?”  There was also “For Donald Trump, every vice is a virtue”, “Trump’s bizarre, dangerous neediness”, “Obama didn’t birth Trump’s movement”, an Ann Telnaes cartoon “Trump will make America not great again” and “After Trump, conservatives should stop longing for the past – and learn a little humility”. Strangely missing from the pogrom was screeching neocon harpy Jennifer Rubin who probably was in therapy or under suicide watch after all of her work over the last 11 months was for naught as Trump secured the nomination.

But the Jeff Bezos owned paper should pay heed to one of its own stories to help it’s presstitute writers understand the popularity of Trump outside of the Beltway bubble, the one where the Editorial Board snobs and power-sucklers are feted at the elite cocktail parties for their management of the all you can eat bullshit buffet that protects the status quo. The piece takes a look at the real America and real people who have been decimated by the con artists and weasels in D.C. whose money harvesting operations to keep their own asses in office and to keep the cash spigots flowing have real consequences. People like Chris Sester, a man from Indiana who has believed in America and the values that it used to represent – hard work, family, loyalty – and was the victim of greed as his employer is closing down it’s Huntingdon, Indiana factory and moving to Mexico – destroying the lives of hundreds as well as bringing an end to the American dream.

The article is entitled “From belief to outrage: The decline of the middle class reaches the next American town” and I excerpt the following:

Chris Setser worked a 12-hour graveyard shift while his children slept, cleaned the house while they were at school and then went outside to wait for the bus bringing them home. He stood on the porch as he often did and surveyed the life he had built. The lawn was trimmed. The stairs were swept. The weekly family schedule was printed on a chalkboard. A sign near the door read, “A Stable Home Is A Happy Home,” and now a school bus came rolling down a street lined by wide sidewalks and American flags toward a five-bedroom house on the corner lot.

“Right on time,” Setser called out to the driver, waving to his children as they came off the bus.

It had been two months since Setser and 800 others in Huntington were told their manufacturing jobs would soon be outsourced to Mexico, but so far nothing about his routine had changed. He was still making $17 an hour on the third-shift line at United Technologies. The first layoffs wouldn’t take place for a year, maybe more. “We’ll be fine because we’ve always been fine,” Setser had said again and again, to his fiancee, his four children, and most of all to himself, but he was beginning to wonder if the loss of something more foundational in Huntington was underway.

AND

Setser and his parents had moved to Huntington in the 1990s in part because of that idea. “The Town That Works!” was what one Huntington advertisement had promised in those years, and so they had moved from Chicago for lower rent, better schools and reliable union work. First Setser’s mother had been hired at UTEC, then his brother-in-law, and then eventually Setser himself was called in off the wait list. “From Day One to Day Dead,” was the saying about a job at UTEC, because once people were hired they usually stayed until retirement.

But on that night in February, another announcement had come over the factory speakers, instructing all UTEC employees to report to the cafeteria. The factory manager was standing at the front of the room, holding a piece of paper and reading into a microphone.

“A difficult decision,” he said.

“Relocation is best,” he said.

“Northern Mexico,” he said.

“No questions,” he said, and then he told employees they would have an hour-long break in the cafeteria to process the news before returning to their lines.
A similar announcement had come earlier that day at one of UTEC’s partner factories, a Carrier air conditioning plant in Indianapolis, where the mention of Mexico to the plant’s 1,300 employees had been followed by cussing and boos. Donald Trump had issued a statement — “disgusting,” “un-American” — and some Carrier employees had threatened to destroy equipment in the latest wave of the betrayal and rage that had become so much of a part of the political moment.

AND

“We’re getting to the point where there aren’t really any good options left,” he said. “The system is broken. Maybe its time to blow it up and start from scratch, like Trump’s been saying.”
Krystal rolled her eyes at him. “Come on. You’re a Democrat.”

“I was. But that was before we started turning into a weak country,” he said. “Pretty soon there won’t be anything left. We’ll all be flipping burgers.”

“Fine, but so what?” she said. “We just turn everything over to the guy who yells the loudest?”

Setser leaned into the table and banged it once for emphasis. “They’re throwing our work back in our face,” he said. “China is doing better. Even Mexico is doing better. Don’t you want someone to go kick ass?”

“That doesn’t really seem like you,” she said, and for a few seconds she stared back at him, as if examining someone for the first time. The spices were alphabetized on the shelves. The family schedule was printed on the wall. Theirs was a happy home, a stable home.

“You said it always evens out,” she told him.

“Maybe I was wrong,” he said, but now his voice was quiet.

“You said things just have a way of working.”

“Maybe not,” he said, because with each passing day he was seeing it more clearly. The town was losing its best employer, and all around him stability was giving way to uncertainty, to resentment, to anger, to fear.

Considering the amount of crap that the Washington Post churns out like a jacked up assembly line for breakfast sausage filled with tainted skunk meat it’s easy to see how such a heartfelt, illuminating and poignant piece like the one by Eli Saslow can be overlooked. It can be read in it’s entirety here.

The story on Setser is the answer to the question that has so bewitched and befuddled the Beltway elite – how is it that the Trump revolution has come to pass? However, his story and the stories of millions like him who have been sold down the river for chump change just so that the parasites swimming in the D.C. cistern can feather their own nests rarely get told, let alone in such a compelling manner in a major newspaper like the Washington Post.

The backlash has finally arrived and Donald Trump is more than a man, like Batman he is a symbol. The symbol of a reckoning that is way overdue.

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