Anyone who has not been living in a cave in Tora Bora or under a rock for the last fifty or so years knows what a piñata is and what the “Piñata Game” is all about. But for those rock and cave dwellers reading this, a brief synopsis is in order.
Originating somewhere in the Socialist Shithole of Mexico, (ironically enough – you’ll find out why – just keep reading) the piñata is a paper-mâché construct, usually of an animal such as a donkey (also ironic) or horse, but sometimes in purely geometric forms. Once dry, the giant “toy” is then painted in a colorful manner designed to delight the children who will “use” it during the Piñata Game. Finally, a hole is cut in the thing and the figure is filled with all manner of candy, fruit, etc.
The giant container is tied to a rope so that it can be pulled up and down to “confuse” the one of usually many who try to beat the hell out of it with three whacks each so as to – at last – break the piñata open and splash the contents all over the ground, leading to a massive frenzy by the players to snag as much of the “redistributed wealth” as possible.
So… beginning to get the picture?
There’s the “wise, old, Bernie-Sanders-like-adult” at the “business end” of the rope, tormenting the various blindfolded followers of the Piñata Game; and then there are the many, eager youngsters waiting to pounce on the freebies or hurl insults at anyone who doesn’t succeed in breaking the piñata yet. Finally, there is the poor, feckless child who “succeeds” in breaking the donkey and “freeing up” all the candy and other goodies for everyone else.
But not for him or her, because they are – essentially – blind, and by the time they rip the handkerchief off of their eyes (in this part of the game, Bernie NEVER helps the kid), the child sees only his former compatriots in a huge heap on the ground, pummeling and scratching at each other to get at the last scraps.
The “winner” – the boy or girl who actually succeeded at freeing up the goods for everyone else – is left with nothing, usually cries, and has to be led away in hand by Uncle Bernie, to be consoled at his new beach house being visited presently by Ocasio-Cortez and a gaggle of more “mainstream” types.
No Snickers allowed – only soy milk.
The liberals who have Trump Derangement Syndrome are, actually, afflicted with what I call, “Piñata Syndrome.” They think that Trump is the source of all of their psychosis, but that’s just a symptom of their greater malady – Piñataitis.
You see, they live in a fantasy world where everyone gets free Snickers bars, but nobody knows who pays for them and nobody much cares. But if somebody (like Trump maybe?) threatens to take away their free candy, they go apeshit and demand that we abolish ICE, because ICE is deporting all of the poor Mexicans from whom they appropriated this uniquely Hispanic – and Socialist – game. When one of their needy comrades gets injured in the melee following the “breaking-of-the-‘Piñata System’,” they of course brush it off and quote eggs and omelettes, or claim that somehow the “game wasn’t played right but that THIS time it will be done exactly according to the rules set up by Karl Marx.
Naturally, if all else fails, they’ll blame Uncle Bernie because the rope he used to torment one and all was “too weak” or “tied incorrectly.”
Finally, when all of the good little Socialist Candy Mongers go home to their REAL Daddies and Mommies, they will – one and all – whine that they didn’t get enough of the contents of the piñata, or that there were “too many bigger kids” involved in the mad rush to get at the commodities, or that Bernie distracted them with his constant promises of “more to come soon.”
Or, they will simply make the excuse that they didn’t like the “quality” of the candy being dispersed and will soon fashion their own piñatas, made to look like a giant Trump head covered in real animal blood, but now called Antifas (because it was deemed racist to hit a Mexican toy); the Antifa will be filled with really tasty stuff, like knives and baseball bats, feces, grenades and balaclavas.
That ought to be rather interesting. Snickers, anyone?