Of Brexit and Brook Trout


There is a rising tide of nationalism sweeping the planet. This tide has brought a man seemingly incapable of honesty to within pissing distance of the American throne and set free from bondage a nation seemingly entrenched in a post-Thatcher utopian charade. I should clarify for you East Tennessee boys that I’m referring to Donald Trump and the United Kingdom, respectively.

As the European Union sits perilously close to the edge of collapse, we are presented with a unique opportunity that must not be missed. We can unite behind something that represents the spirit of our great nation. We can, and we must.

This cause of which I speak is both beautiful and fragile, resilient and threatened, bold and cautious. I speak, of course, of the mighty brook trout. It possesses a certain aristocratic charm that is lost on the marauding brown trout that rely on nothing but brutish thuggery. The brook trout is also not the rainbow-colored Jezebel that  populates every hatchery-supplied piece of water from Georgia to Morocco. I probably don’t need to add that both of ’em are immigrants. Just sayin’.

No, this is something much different. Much better. Much purer.

Proud and patriotic brothers and sisters, let us unite!

Make Brook Trout Thrive Again.

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