Someone had to say it. That people would let their democracy slip away on such an embarrassing (and solvable) inflection point as the rise in price of a dozen eggs, is like a national pathology that is nearly impossible to reckon with.

Of course, that was not the only issue that caused the re-election (after a four-year interval) of the convicted felon, admitted sex offender and debased traitor who tried to overturn his 2020 defeat by having a mob kill his own vice president. For the hardcore MAGA crowd it is certainly easier to complain about grocery prices than to admit to being a straight-up (and potentially violent) bigot, with a head stuffed to the gills with false grievances. But what about the rest of us? (I’ll say us to be polite even though I of course voted for Kamala Harris).

Alex had the right idea in “A Clockwork Orange.” He wants to “smash ’em” and so do I.

Fuck eggs. It would be futile for me to argue that the 166 MILLION chickens that died from the recent bird flu may have had something to do with the price hike. Because that would be too normal. Complaining is more fun. I’m not suggesting that there are not real economic troubles affecting some people, but to use that to put back in office a proud psychopath who already said he wanted to be a dictator?

Didn’t anybody ever suggest boycotting those stupid eggs? If most of the country could agree to do this the price would have come down quick, maybe even quick enough to avoid a witless slide into an authoritative nightmare. Joe Biden had about as much to do with egg prices as I have in getting a Pulitzer Prize.

Fuck Eggs. They are the modern equivalent of the old canard that at least Mussolini “made the trains run on time.” No he did not. Reportedly, only the Italian tourist trains ran on schedule. This led some witless British tourists to say that things are better with an autocratic leader running the show from Rome. This then got repeated until it sounded like the truth.

Gang of Four saw thru the ruse. (Lyrics in description)

So in 2024, eggs became some sort of defining issue, much like “soccer moms” were all the demographic rage a few election cycles back. So much so that even a Democratic consultant, was quoted in the paper in January as saying that perhaps it was inevitable that his party lost because, “Just look at the price of eggs.” WTF, dude? With people like that on your side, who needs adversaries?

Also in that day’s New York Daily News there was a poll that showed that about 70% of people thought less of President Biden for pardoning his son Hunter. In the same breath, 70% said they would pardon their own child, Welcome to the USA, kids.

Kamala Harris is certainly no Winston Churchill but I was hoping for at least a little original thinking in her campaign against such an obvious threat to democratic norms. Sure, she may present as America’s “cool aunt,” but recent history has proved that many don’t mind voting for a malignant and demented uncle. If Harris could have convinced a few of them that unkie would be better suited to a padded cell, she may have even squeaked out a victory, God save us.

One little plea. Let’s try to better to learn of “overstanding.” It’s one thing to “understand” that egg prices are high, and a completely different thing to “overstand” the issue and realizing we are being sold a bill of goods much more than $9 a dozen.  You don’t even have to man the barricades. On social media, at least treat Trump, Musk et al to a smart-ass putdown, instead of looking up terrified at the sky of worst-case-scenario. We don’t need to be any more anxious than we already are.

To get back to Alex. In the penultimate scene of “A Clockwork Orange,” he has the upper hand even in a full body cast, being fed the precious eggiwegs (not to mention “steaky-wakes” and “lomsticks of toast”) knowing that he has the unscrupulous Interior Minister right where he wants him (he is obliged to feed Alex his breakfast while being subtly taunted). They both know that the barbaric technique that “cured” him of his criminality also made him defenseless and suicidal. Now Alex has been re-cured and taken to calling the Minister (“my little droogie”) knowing instinctively that thuggery can exist just as easily thrive in the halls of power as it can on the backstreets of London.

In this “horrorshow viddy” clip, Anthony Sharp plays the Interior Minister and, of course, the legendary Malcolm McDowell is Alex DeLarge.

Many readers will know that the Anthony Burgess novel had a “controversial” final chapter that was not included in American editions of the book—and also not included in Stanley Kubrick’s towering film adaptation. Too bad, as it is quite fascinating. It begins almost exactly as the first chapter: Alex is back in the Korova Milkbar with three new droogies. They are making up their “rassoodocks” about what crimes to commit that evening. But later, he runs into his old droogie Pete and is astonished to find him happily married and with a regular job. The softening begins (“Youth must go”) and he imagines himself doing the same. In the end, normalcy will (or should) reign and hopefully Alex will not be the kind of citizen who welcomes a dictatorship because of a temporary spike in the price of eggiwegs. “Alex like groweth up, oh yes,” he thinks to himself. Maybe it’s time to do the same. Righty right.