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Can we skip to Satanic panic? Trump's pet food has gone stale.


Can we skip to Satanic panic? Trump's pet food has gone stale.

I grew up in Thomasville, Ala., where I spent a relatively uneventful childhood, lucky as I was. You see, strange things were always afoot in neighboring towns and nearby cities, things that threatened to spill over into our peaceful community.

For instance, it was common knowledge that in Demopolis there was an active cult of devil worshipers looking for blonde-haired, blue-eyed babies to sacrifice to their Dark Lord. They did this while listening to rock and roll music played backward on custom turntables, or so we learned in our church youth group. I never understood why pigmentation was such a crucial quality for these rituals, but as a redhead, these matters didn't concern me so much.

Over the state line, in Meridian, Miss., a newly opened Chinese restaurant didn't source its menu from Sysco. Rather, the Mongolian beef was mongrel meat, and every dish on the menu was yard-to-table.

Closer to home, Jackson, Ala., had no such issues. The town at the south end of our county was stalked by roving bands of unlicensed dog catchers who sold the loose pets they rounded up to Auburn University, where the veterinary school used them in sick experiments that would turn the stomachs of even Demopolis devil worshipers.

Those folks should have spent more time on my street, which was a dirt road a few miles outside the Thomasville city limits. For some reason, dogs and cats showed up at our doorstep constantly, where after a few days of pitiful looks and plaintive whining, they'd get names and wind up being our pets.

Urban myths, it turns out, aren't a suitable substitute for leash laws, fenced yards or taxpayer-funded animal control.

I can't believe I have to say this, but none of that stuff was ever real. We're now a quarter-way through the 21st century, when just about everybody has access to all human knowledge through the phones in our pockets, but we still have trouble telling facts from fantasy.

But today it's not campfire stories and rumors shared over middle school lunch tables keeping such nonsense alive. It's a wannabe and relatively recent president of the United States blathering this silly garbage on live TV.

"They're eating the dogs. The people that came in -- they're eating the cats. They're eating the pets of the people that live there, and this is what's happening in our country, and it's a shame."

That's an actual quote from a man who wants control of nuclear weapons.

Donald Trump isn't the only one saying such things. His running mate JD Vance spread this silly business first.

"Reports now show that people have had their pets abducted and eaten by people who shouldn't be in this country," Vance tweeted despite having gone to Yale Law School. "Where is our border czar?"

Better question: Where is this man's brain?

Likewise, both men are spreading lies about "after-birth" abortions, apparently because no one has filled them in about the devil worshipers in Demopolis.

Don't worry. They'll get there before it's over.

We have real challenges in this country. We need better strategies for managing immigration. New homes are priced out of reach for many first-time buyers, and our healthcare system is so convoluted that the doctors who work in it can't tell you what anything will cost, but you're safe to assume you can't afford it.

The trouble is, these problems require effort to solve, and the ideas for dealing with them take time to explain, and ... well, that's all just so boring. The housing crisis and the healthcare crisis no longer hold people's attention, even when we affix "crisis" to things that are mostly just problems.

Meanwhile, strange people from somewhere else lurking in the shadows to stalk our pets is so much more interesting, especially when those people in the bushes don't look like us or talk like us. Put a little salting of racism on it, and some folks will eat their own pooch.

That's what is really going on here.

Trumpism is a diet outrage, but his cupboard is bare and he has nothing left to feed our fears.

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