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When you’re dead, you’re dead.   And the only man who can deny that statement would be Lazareth.  We don’t get two shots at this world, so most of us try to defy the odds or at least delay the inevitable passage of our souls to the other side, wherever that may be.  We cling to life as long as possible.  We are willing to live in pain and misery to prolong the unknown adventure of the afterlife.

Survival is our strongest instinct.  It is the motivation for another day and another day and the endurance of suffering.  We just want to survive long enough for the cure.  We want to slow the progression of the disease or whatever ails us.  We prolong our demise, because research may soon provide the panacea.

And this inborn desire to live rather than to succumb to inevitable mortality is the driving force for the majority of Donald Trump supporters.  I am truly bewildered at the NeverTrumpers who believe that our national demise under Hillary Clinton is preferable to the shot in the dark with Donald Trump.  Our country has cancer, and it has metastacized to every national organ.   Hillary Clinton is the undertaker.  She will embalm us and prepare our souls for a life worse than death.

But Donald Trump, as a profoundly flawed man, is the chemotherapy.  He is that transfusion or pill that we could take in hopes of putting the cancer in remission.  At times he makes us nauseous.  He makes us want to pull our own hair out.  And the doctor has told us that our only chance of survival, in lieu of a miracle, is the chemotherapy.  It is not the cure, but it will buy us time.  Without it, we will have our date with the undertaker in the near future.

We know there are no guarantees with the chemotherapy.  We know it won’t be easy.  We know the chemotherapy is brutal, and the drugs from which it is concocted will destroy our cells, but the overwhelming majority of us will risk the side effects of the chemo to avoid the undertaker.  And this isn’t conjecture; it is fact.  Human beings take risks to prolong their lives.  Whether it’s delicate brain or spinal surgery, they are willing to undergo the uncertainty of living through the procedure just to buy another day of life.

Yet, NeverTrumpers, who claim to distrust Hillary Clinton, are prepared to accept certain national death, possible physical death, and the complete surrender of the western way of life rather than to take a gamble on Donald Trump.  Trump, who is admittedly vulgar and brattish, is without argument a controversial and problematic nominee.  But he is not associated with Benghazi and gun running to ISIS.  He is not associated with the leaks of highly classified and confidential national information.  He has never been affiliated with a “dead list” as has Hillary Clinton.  Trump’s negatives are chicken feed in comparison to the criminality, corruption, globalism, and progressivism of Hillary Clinton.  His boastfulness is miniscule in regards to the arrogance of Clinton.  Trump may be a billionaire, but he is an infant on the stage of world power, while Clinton is the star.

I am perplexed that so many conservative Republicans are willing to accept the unavoidable and devastating loss of their republic with a President Hillary Clinton.  Their hatred for Trump is so immense that they would rather the nation go down in flames than to vote for the man that they find to be distasteful.  Their hatred of the Trump supporters is so extensive that they would prefer a President Clinton as their revenge upon the Trumpsters.  As my mother would have said, “They are willing to cut off their noses to spite their faces.”

NeverTrumpers are willing to put the loaded gun with a chamber full of shells to their head rather than to choose the gun with at the very lease, one empty chamber.  They will refuse the chemotherapy which may or may not save their lives.  Trump supporters will gamble on a shot at life.   They will take the chemotherapy no matter how vile it appears or detestable that it may be.

We’re dying folks.  Either take the chemo or make your date with the undertaker.  Whining and crying won’t change a thing.  These are the only two choices.

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