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Win At Any Cost
So it has come down to this, the day we have all either dreaded or dreamed for and on this day the I would wish that Donald Trump finds he has an identical twin and has to live with him forever.
I do hope that post Election Day is relatively peaceful and that we are not in store for an “orgy of phantasmagoria news by way of Hieronymus Bosch” as the N.Y. Times put is so perfectly. And hopefully all the sturm und drang will fall flat and we’ll see another Y2K non-event.
And as we’re on the subject of Donald Trump, I have culled some of the more creative wishes that people have wished on people they didn’t like even a little. There are many, many, many of these wishes attesting to the number of people who really, really can’t stand other people. None of these wishes are fatal but just incredibly maddening, which would be appropriate and here are just a smattering of them.
May you feel the hurt that you have caused.
May you have bullet ants in your condoms. Bullet ants, native to the humid lowland rainforests from Nicaragua and the extreme east of Honduras and south to Paraguay, are named for their extremely potent sting. I do understand that Donald Trump has no need for condoms as he has no masculine qualities but consider bullet ants in your condoms to be a metaphor.
May you suffer from total perspective vortex where you can actually grasp the true size of the universe in both time and space and understand your total irrelevancy in the scheme of things.
May you find bedbugs where ever you live and may there be detectives whose job is to find each of your new addresses and release more bugs there.
May you be forced to listen to Justin Bieber all day, every day for the rest of your days.
And then there are all of the relatively minor discomforts like paper cuts, intestinal distress, explosive headaches, forever losing the cord in the neck of a hoodie, may you burn your mouth on the outside of the Hot Pocket and find the inside is frozen, may your shower run out of hot water as soon as you start shampooing, may your hot coffee always arrive cold and may you be tormented by constant buffering.
And this might be the time for a few spells from the “Book of the Dead.”
This is to the “dangerous one.”
“Get back! Retreat! Get back, you dangerous one! Do not come against me, do not live by my magic; may I not have to tell this name of yours to the Great God who sent you; ‘Messenger’ is the name of one, and Bedty is the name of the other.”
And more from the Book of the Dead, as a warning to Trump:
“O you Soul, greatly majestic, behold, I have come that I may see you; I open the Netherworld that I may see my father Osiris and drive away darkness, for I am beloved of him.”
And then there are the Voodoo spirits that can be yours from any number of websites that charge various fees with guarantees that their incantation will work. Khusulum is one and he promises that “If someone harmed you and you are looking to get revenge, you could call on the Voodoo spirits and turn the life of someone into a real nightmare. If you want to send negative energies, bad luck and evil spirits at a person, ask khusulum to target the spell at him or her, and get the sweetest revenge you could have ever imagined!”
And if none of this works, you are strongly recommended to knock on wood, toss some salt over your left (not right) shoulder, avoid mirror breaking and walking under ladders, stay away from those black cats, keep your umbrella closed while indoors, find one of those incredibly elusive four leaf clovers and hang a lucky horseshoe, keep your fingers crossed, hold on to that lucky rabbit’s foot, snag the long part of the wishbone, keep your new shoes off the table, never ever walk backwards or enter a room with your left foot, wish on that shooting star, don’t step on that crack and if all else fails, pray, pray and pray some more.