A revolution was sweeping Dino Nation. The first three battlegrounds of the spring-summer campaign before the November Battle Royale had come and gone. History had been made. The Berniesanders had done something no dino had ever done before. Besides being trapped in amber for 99 million years. But that’s only how Bernie felt. He had triumphed in the Iowa Corn-cob-us, the Newhamp Shires and most recently the Reno-Keno Ruckus. It appeared that after being thrown under the Priebusunderbus four years earlier by the Crookadillary, it was finally Bernie’s time to come out. Time for his revolution.
The Reno-Keno Ruckus had been especially gratifying. Dinosaurs of all stripes and colors, from all dino demographics, had come out to support him, proving the 78-year-old dino was not a one-species specialist. They all loved Bernie. Unlike the scrappy Donkeykongrus dinos competing for dino leadership. They’d once numbered in the twenties but were now down to single digits. Of those remaining, the Elizabethwarren had peeled away from him to lambaste every dino in site. The Buddhajudge pleaded with dinos not to fall for Bernie and his too-much, too-soon beastly social dino trap. The Michaelbloomberg had called Bernie a Commiedino but dinos with their feet on the ground knew better.
All these attacks fell by the wayside as Bernie’s message resonated with dinos who for too long had felt left behind in that wayside gully dinos referred to grimly as the Long, Long Lurch.
Bernie stepped to the flat rock lectern to address his volunteers, his followers and his appetizer hunting crew. Every dino loved appies. He smiled out at the dino multitude contentedly licking their lips of some salty Salamander-Iguana fresh kill. Bernie stared his get-busy stare and raised a hand holding a short branch.
“I’ve got news for the Grandoldparty establishment. I’ve got news for the Donkeykongrus establishment. They can’t stop us!”
He dropped the branch. That was it. A branch drop. That was all it took.
The dinos before him rose as one. A hush spread over the audience. Then came a rustling and a rising of voices, chanting, “Not me. Us. … Not me. Us. … Not me. Us.” It was a movement of many coming to fruition. To take back their beloved Milkanhoney Preservation from the T-Rump. Tails began banging against the nearest solid object and dino roars erupted heartily into their new anthem. Their calling. Their raison d’etre.
So Bernie’s got a revolution
Well, he knows
He’s all set to change the world
He cannot wait for evolution
Well, he knows
Fossil fuels will kill the world
The time is now for the election
Bernie will surely get the vote out
Don’t you know you feel the Bern! Alright
Feel the Bern! Alright
Feel the Bern! Alright
For health he has the real solution
Well, he knows
It’s not another T-Rump scam
The rich must make their contribution
Well, he knows
They should give more than we can
But isn’t it funny Nevada showed us how great
Bernie is one of us, you cannot wait
Don’t you know you feel the Bern! Alright
Feel the Bern! Alright
Feel the Bern! Alright
He will wipe out the destitution
Well, he knows
You need a bed for your head
And what about the institutions?
Well, he knows
The ones T-Rump has left for dead
So if you are tired of pictures of Nunes’ cow
You can turn to Bernie and take this vow
Don’t you know you feel the Bern! Alright
Feel the Bern! Alright
Feel the Bern! Alright
………………………………
You can hear the musical version of today’s post and previous T-Rump Digs at my podcast site at Podbean. Two new T-Rump tracks every Saturday. Enjoy!
David Belisle 