Ignoring Trump Would Kill Him … And Save Us

destephens Uncategorized , , ,

Nobody can tell me Trump isn’t enjoying every single bit of this.

While a terrified, wide-eyed world shelters in place as the deadly COVID-19 virus oozes over their homes, Donald J. Trump huffs and puffs atop a podium each day, lights a match, and does a prescribed burn on anybody or anything that dares get in his way.

He shows up on that stage at the same time every day for one must-see reason, and one must-see reason only: to tell us why he is so important.

To believe otherwise is to fall into the trap he’s set over the course of his entire, miserable life and perfected these past grueling, three-plus years.

So why do we watch?

Trump insists that the only thing we need more of right now isn’t tests … and ventilators … and masks … and hope … No, what the world needs more of right now, RIGHT THIS VERY MOMENT, is Donald J. Trump.

You had to have noticed that Trump is completely in his element these days. Nothing flourishes in roiling mud quite like he does.

Why of course he is handling all this disgracefully.

Did we really believe for one minute that when he did his daily version of “Beat the Press” he would all of a sudden give a single, good goddam thing about anything or anybody but himself?

The dead and dying are just a nuisance to Trump but, hey, they do provide a terrifically great platform to stand on.

Each day he ascends his tiny, self-made perch above it all and basks in the comfort of knowing all eyes are on HIM. It is a sociopath’s dream. It gets no better.

For two weeks now, Trump has put down his nuclear-powered cellphone, signed off of Twitter and dragging his six-foot tie along with him, stood at that podium and lied.

Oh sure, he starts each session reading words and numbers from a piece of paper that mean nothing to him. But that is not the purpose of His Majesty’s visit. And when he’s done throwing in words like “stupendous” and “incredible” and “terrific” so that all those other words and numbers actually mean something to him, he’ll get to the real point of his visit.

He’ll stare hard at the cameras and everybody who orbits his dark, dead star, and then look over the press. Thrusting his triple-chin out six inches or so, he’ll glare at them, and dare them to take their best shot.

The questions will start coming. He will take credit wherever he can find it. He will accept absolutely none of the blame. He will chew on the truth, swallow none of it, and then spit it back in our faces. “The governors are failing.” “The Democrats are a disgrace.” “The media are liars.” “Fuck any of you who don’t believe that.”

By Wednesday, the thing he said on Tuesday simply won’t matter anymore. And the thing he said three weeks ago? Well, that just flat never happened — period. By the time he is into Thursday and Friday, Monday might as well have never been born.

There is only one truth and that is the one Trump believes at that very moment. Five minutes later, even that could well be gone.

He is a madman. But we knew that.

He’ll batter the press and anybody who disagrees with him into submission. This is what he delights in. You can actually see him start to snort, fidget and turn that weird shade of dirty-orange when a member of the press challenges him on some iron-clad fact. Beating the reporter is what is important. Their question is but an insult to be disregarded with disdain. How dare they …

Trump has been attacking the press every, single day during what only a minority of America would describe as a “presidency.” This, of course, follows an entire, miserable lifetime of begging and courting that very press for attention.

Trump spent his life rolling out of his fortified bed each day with only one goal in mind: making it all about him. Hell, some days he’d bounce into his office and play the part of John Miller or John Barron and try to drum up some attention for their wildly insecure alter-ego, Donny. Any day that went by without people thinking of him, was what hell looked like.

Each day as this killer-virus rocks our world, he stands at the podium and airs his grievances. He tells America how unfair he’s once again being treated, and if you’d simply look past it all as only he can, things are about to be wonderful again. But only if you worship him. It is the only thing that sustains him.

So, again, why is it we watch?

Now would be a very good time to tune Trump out for good, America. It is past time we learned our lesson.

It could literally save our lives.

Written By


Lived everywhere. Started in Africa, then to America, then to Europe, then ... back to America, which lately seems to pride itself in going back. Almost made it 30 years in print journalism, before it all went bad. Really? Don’t think things are bad, eh? Who’s your new president, pal? How did that happen? Because it all went bad.

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