There's an identity crisis adrift. Trumpsters live in an imaginary timezone; the 50's are gone, and babies don't boom. Babe Ruth is now Abdul, and TSA is at the ballpark. There's a knock at the door as we sleep in the midnight of political control. Patriots are ignored and smeared. Political correctness is dictated by jewish autocrats. Political blackmail is committed on capital hill, and jews legislate from the bench. Democracy is awarded to the highest bidder, and you're nothing. You're not even a number. You're a digit. It's a knock at midnight that scares you out of your sleep, "Whose there?", you cry, no reply. You ask again; but you won't get up! "There's no justice in this world" you say, and go back to bed. Sleep on, dreamer, sleep on. The FEMA camps are stocked with widescreen TV's, and Dunkin' Donuts has the concession stands. You can die in your sleep, and in your sins, can not hear a thing.