Trumpnet (bp coyle)

I am old now, so old that I often forget who I am. Forget where I live. But I remember my childhood as if it were yesterday. As if it were an hour ago. I try to tell today’s kids what it was like and they laugh at me. I understand. I sound like any old man from any time in history. ‘Things were different when I was a lad.’

Oh but they were, they were different. I can remember a time before the Trump Dynasty came to rule our land. Before Donald the First ascended to his throne. We had the real internet back then. It is a magical thing. We could do so much on it. Almost anything. We could talk to friends. Meet new people. Fall in love. There was music and stories and porn. Lots of porn. It amuses them but they don’t believe a single word.

They gather round my bed, smile as they listen. ‘And there was Real News,’ I say. ‘Real News any time you wanted.’

They pat my hand sympathetically. ‘Oh Grandpa,’ they say, ‘Poor old Grandpa. That was Fake News Grandpa. All Fake News. It says so on the Trumpnet