A couple of weeks ago, Anne Coulter, one of the most deplorable people on the planet, called Donald Trump grotesque. Good. No one can say I’m not open to the other side’s views. I agree with Anne Coulter! She may be one of the most crass and disingenuous dissemblers in public life today; however, she is not stupid. She gets a pass on stupidity because she can string together several sentences without inspiring thoughts of a honey-mustard vinaigrette for the word salads of the contortionists who make a living defending Donald Trump.
So, let’s first tackle ignorance, and whether the dimwit in the White House can lay claim to being Top Ignoramus. I just got back from Paris, and I can tell you that because of the high level of intellect one encounters in that city—at the grocery store, in taxi cabs or hanging out with seven-year-olds—the biggest rise I could get out of the French about Donald Trump was a shrug. It’s not that they tune out his near-daily imbecilities (the train-wreck factor lives), it’s just that he keeps falling off their radar.
“He does not interest me,” said my 81-year-old friend.
“The headlines usually tell the story. Who needs to read more?” said my husband’s 45-year-old cousin.
Ignorance exhausts them.
I’m leveled too by the intensity of the empty-headedness in which Trump revels.
Look at me, there’s nothing in here, and I’m President!
I’ve often ruminated on whether there could be anyone more brain-dead on history, geography, government, rule of law, justice, and what it takes to govern a country of 325 million people. But his recent statement, made to justify the Paris Accord bombshell, struck the final blow. He said he was here to lead the people of the United States, not Paris, France.
He thinks the Paris Accord is about Parisians.
If there is anyone out there still wondering whether the constant crazy coming out of this [self] infatuation masquerading as an administration belies some Machiavellian scheme meant to keep everyone in the world unbalanced, on our toes, and in a state of breathless incertitude, please stop.
He thinks the Paris Accord is about Parisians. The freak in the White House wins this round.
As to grotesquery, there are many, many despots the world over who might outmaneuver Trump for Most Grotesque Person on the Planet. Bashar al Assad comes to mind. Trump hasn’t used chemical weapons on his own people, right? And then there’s my personal favorite, Rodrigo Duterte, the Filipino monster who won his country’s presidential election after publicly asserting that he wished the guys who gang-raped and murdered an Australian woman in one of his prisons had let him go first. (Ah, yes, there’s a drug war to be fought in the Philipines, people.) No, Trump has only said that he likes to grab women by their genitals, so he can’t be the most grotesque of them all. He’s more like a grotesque, unhinged child, who knows not what he does. But when he sees the aftermath, he likes it.
So, for the moment, Donald Trump cannot be named the most grotesque person on the planet. But he’s working very hard to get there. He did extend a White House invitation to Duterte. Maybe he wanted to get some tips. As it turns out, Duterte brushed him off. If he has time, maybe… Donald Trump will have to wait.