Lock ’em Up!

Both of ’em.

Imprison former President Donald Trump and President Joe Biden’s son Hunter in a nice minimum security federal penitentiary complete with armed guards who hate government.

God bless the Second Amendment.

Trump?

Five to ten years for committing 34 federal felonies a jury easily recognized as major crimes. A legal nuisance suit settlement? Illegal hush money to a porn actress? Doesn’t matter. A jury decided Republican Trump was guilty.

Lock ’em up!

Hunter?

Two years for three federal felonies. On second thought, give Democrat Hunter three years because a jury convicted him of fraudulently buying a gun that turned up missing until cops located the weapon. Somebody could have been killed.

Lock ’em up!

Who says I’m not fair? I’m even a left-wing Socialist militant activist journalist who’s supposed to be more liberal than redneck, frothing-at-the-mouth law and order militia members who wanted to hang Mike Pence.

Lock ’em up!

Both of them.

Come to think of it, lock up Mike Pence, too. The guy did serve as Trump’s vice president. That alone should be a crime against human nature.

America needs evidence no man or woman is above the law. Most good citizens no longer believe government propaganda that claims justice is blind. Pure disinformation oozes from every pore in every deceitful politician’s body. Special interest cash clogs the system worse than any stuffed up White House bathroom, strip club men’s room where Hunter snorted coke or gold Mar-a-Lago commode where Trump sat and read classified documents he took home with him when he finished his term of office.

To save taxpayer money Trump and Hunter can share a cell. Bunk buddies constitute a classic definition of political bipartisanship. Trump gets the bottom simply because of his age. Hunter probably has enough cocaine residue left in his system to enable him to spring to the top bunk with a simple hop, skip and jump.

Don’t get me wrong.

I take no solace in American dysfunction that dooms future generations to living in a dystopian republic populated by oblivious citizen zombies who don’t think deeply or challenge a political system that disrespects them at every turn of the screw. Screwed but happy is the cult mantra for gullible Democrats and Republicans alike.

And I’m happy if Hunter’s off the crack pipe.

I say “if” because all I have is his word for his “recovery.” I worked too long 40 years ago as a state prison drug and alcohol counselor to take a junkie’s word at face value about anything.

Once a dope fiend always a dope fiend.

Hunter won’t be better in a year or two or three or 30. What matters is what Hunter does to control his addiction for the entire duration of the whole rest of his life. And I’m not convinced Hunter Biden has done nearly enough to even begin to prove redemption.

Maybe he never will.

Hunter Biden needs a heavy dose of steel bars to help set him straight rather than another etched invite to another White House state dinner where he is a regular VIP guest. Same goes for Trump, a serial liar who might behave better on the crack pipe. The man has his own problems. A walking talking personality disorder even without drugs, Trump is long overdue for an orange jumpsuit to match the blow-dried mop that covers his head.

Prison will provide a good excuse for Melania to file for divorce. Whatever she gets is better than what she has.

As for Scranton Joe — sell the Stingray.

Alleged “artist” Hunter wants to get his paint-smeared hands on that Corvette if, before or after he goes to jail. Dear old dad can use the proceeds to buy one of those snazzy, souped-up mechanized wheelchairs to tool around town when he finally accepts he’s not up to the job of president.

If he moves back home retirement will even offer discounted senior citizen’s tickets at the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre RailRiders baseball games. The old boy can reminisce about when he played Little League in the snooty lace curtain Irish Greed Ridge section of town.

I mean Green Ridge.

Play ball!

I mean, lock ’em up!

Joe can even invite his old Black buddy Corn Pop to stop by the house to smoke a medical marijuana joint. On second thought, scratch that idea. Getting high with Corn Pop can get you locked up or committed here in Pennsylvania hard coal country.