The Wrath Of The Khans

To boldly go where no one would dare, until this election of 2016. Two weeks of the slickest show in two cities are over. The candidates are crowned, millions have been spent, one bazillion red white and blue balloons rained.
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To boldly go where no one would dare, until this election of 2016. Two weeks of the slickest show in two cities are over. The candidates are crowned, millions have been spent, one bazillion red white and blue balloons rained. The preamble is over and the whistle-stop road show to the battleground states begins. Folks can return to the virtues of summer, while our political class doubles-down for the next 100 days. Two diametrically opposed visions of America emerged. There were moments when I had to shake my head, put my red wine in blue glass in the white room down to check reality. I am still a bit rattled thinking maybe I drank too much which beamed me up through a wormhole into another galaxy hosting "Star Trek: The Clash of Khans."

On the one hand, we have the fantasy character based on the conqueror, Genghis Khan, who morphs into a genetically altered muscular showman with sexy vixens at his side, a superhuman version but with orange hair and skin and squinty eyes framed in a pasty anemic tone of cerulean. This Khan is pathological, cunning, deceitful, obsessively narcissistic, thin-skinned and completely devoid of empathy. He is wired to defeat, crush and persevere while destroying all who question. Criticism of this Khan carries the penalty of being Twitter-stalked and savaged with relentless impulsive "tongue-fuing," until banished into the "galaxy" of non-social viability. The wrath of this Khan is full throttle bombast, morally bankrupt, and insanely self-aggrandizing.

On the other Khan, we have a self-actualized character from ancient Middle-Eastern sands, is the mouse that roared in a soft but thunderous, measured but emotive, non-threatening but killing, plainspoken but moral, painful but respectful tone. The quality of which was deafening. Mr. Khizr Khan, with his pained silent draped wife at his side, drew his wrath out of his coat, a pocket version of the Constitution of the United States. This little pamphlet was nuclear charged, equaled the force of David's stone that fell Goliath, and will defeat Trump-The-Con.

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