Can this faux-‘democracy’, this disgusting-Kleptocracy-to-End-all-kleptocracies possibly persist for an entire NEXT-year beyond … these one-hundred-sixty-eight remaining hours?

If The Bard is “not immortal”, then I suppose that nothing at-all- would ‘BE’ either.. but that is unacceptable: quite as unacceptable as to conclude further that,
‘Love’ is not merely evanescent but is just another illusion via billions of defective activities in mind-fluff. (Perhaps only another word ... from-ineffable-space?)
(Might then as well assassinate the word ineffable too and regress to that Boolean clockwork Universe. so yearned for by many.

Can some confluence of Brutus and Iago, locked forever in Ludicrous-speed conflict: somehow rid this faux-republic of its current crop of cancerous $$Primitives IN. TIME?
Because … within another 365 days of daily attrition of every positive aspect {ever attributed to Murican-Dream-space ..and other tribal fantasies) there may be left only.. traces.. of..
any bright spots ie.non-hideous aspects of yesterday’s limping-along failed-democracy.

Doncha think?

(One week for the diverting of a River through the Augean Stables !?!ONE111) to clear out IN ONE DAY: the accumulated redolent-Bull-Shit deposited
ever since the orange-coiffed sociopath ascended to his tiny-fingered persona: Liar, Liar toupee-on-fire!

For the fifth labor, Eurystheus ordered Hercules to clean up King Augeas' stables. Hercules knew this job would mean getting dirty and smelly, but sometimes even a hero has to do these things. Then Eurystheus made Hercules' task even harder: he had to clean up after the cattle of Augeas in a single day.

Get that Incense burning; I. Mean. ..if’n you ain’t Incensed over the Wrecking Crew -yet??- you are already dead and just perambulating on fumes, I wot.