For well over a year, I have told the tale of Trump over and over again highlighting my theory that for him, running for President was nothing more than a rich brat/trust fund idiot’s goof to see what he could grab along the way to losing.
To him becoming Burger King (which he has become, ironically, while sucking down Big Macs, which pretty much makes his fear of being poisoned come true) and being President was no different. The world to him has always been a narcissistic reflection of himself, as seen through a funhouse mirror, which is both disproportionate and pathologically distorted.
Possessing no natural talent, ability or even intuition, his entire life has been about playing the system. It’s no surprise that his pull-toy wife, Mylanta’s favorite TV show is “Getting Away With Murder.” That is, after all, what Donald wrote on the occupation line of his infamous Tax returns.
Here in the no-nonsense capital of the world, New York, for over thirty years he has been known affectionately as “The Donald,” which is what P.T.Barnum would have called him for his freak show. He was a local idiot, but he was our local idiot. Here in the Big Apple we love both our superstars and our morons. We are very Liverpool in that we are equal opportunity class diminishers. We love to cut people down to size fast if only to remind them that we are on to their games.
Trump inherited one thing besides money and that is glamour, the kind that give Page Six a chubby. He was not ever to be taken seriously. He was entertainment. He was The National Enquirer to our New York Times.
His parade of wives, mistresses and cloned clown children simply enhanced the side-show effect of his life. The Trumps are and will always be the East coast Kardashians.
Ironically they both share Kims now.
As long as he was fenced in within the walls of Manhattan we let him get away with the aforementioned murder. He was our real reality show. He could stomp, storm, brag, pussy grab to his heart’s content, while we in the cheap seats stuffed our faces, drank our beer and roared at his preposterous behavior. I mean, who was he hurting?
Of course we did not know about all the ruinous scams, bankruptcies and the refusal to pay day laborers.
We were blinded by the lightweight.
Just like Beetlejuice and Eric the Midget, Trump was a natural fit for The Howard Stern show. Howard, in his way, has become a laser sharp interviewer who gets people to expose themselves literally and figuratively. Go back and listen to a few Trump interviews. Listen to how he brags about ogling underage Beauty Pageant contestants. Listen to him talk about if he was her father, he’d love to nail Ivanka.
And what was our reaction? We laughed. We shook our heads. He was, after all, The Donald as in The Court Jester.
The other outstanding quality of Trump was his ability to velcro himself to people who were richer and smarter than him, hoping that by rubbing shoulders with them, he would would somehow absorb their talent.
He literally squeezed the life out of The Clintons until they finally wised up and booted him out of their lives. The only Republican thing about Trump is his elephant’s memory. Before that he was a Democratic ass. Trump simply does not forget anyone who publicly or privately rejects him.
President Obama famously humiliated Don the con, at a large, fund raiser/well attended dinner by performing a routine that eviscerated the sitting-right-there Donald who simmered while the crowd roared.
And you are wondering why Trump is getting back at Obama now?
Right out the gate, when Trump took that famous escalator ride with his pull toy/escort/nude model wife, down to his political lobby to announce his “candidacy,” he imitated Howard Stern by being absurd, in this case, he attacked Mexicans. My guess is that he has some bad guacamole at Rosa’s Mexicano the night before and like Obama, he had to get even. Nonetheless it was pure theater, a happening, not unlike Yoko Ono asking you to cut her out of the bag that she was sitting in.
What he didn’t expect was the overflow arrival of the Ship of Fools, which for years were the passengers that Howard Stern attracted.
Howard, who was and has always been in on the joke, “ran” for Governor once. But what Trump was doing was no different from what Andy Griffith’s con man Dusty Rhodes was up to in “A Face In The Crowd.” Trump was playing the House and it finally paid off big time.
But instead of having returning to his bedroom for his strap-on nighttime feed bag of candy, where he no doubt eats and sleeps alone, he instead found himself riding a sugar high of love and he was hooked. Picture Natalie Wood’s Maria dancing around her tiny apartment singing about Tony and you get the picture.
Even more twisted, Trump, who I remind you, looks in the mirror and sees the Queen of England (he figures if she got elected, so could he), suddenly felt the rush that comes with the real opioid: power.
And what he was about to become was the ultimate power failure.
Knowing how to game any system (and lose) he figured: let’s take this to the limit, cut my losses, as he always does, and go on to bankrupt or cheat some other poor sap.
Welding his severely limited and entirely manufactured charisma like a sword (which he no doubt borrowed from Damocles) his Hitler youth style rallies pumped up his ego like Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon, Underdog, (which is how, deep down inside, he sees himself) and instantly turned him into God with no filter or boundaries.
Here was the second coming of Me-sus.
To a congregation which was starving for attention, who felt just as ignored and invisible as he deep down does (all the time) they were a perfect match.
This was nothing more than a mass hypnotic recruitment to the cult equivalent of Trump University and everyone wanted in.
Elmer Fudd Gantry was selling and everyone was buying.
Armed with zero experience, wisdom, religious conviction or knowledge of any kind, all he had to do was work the crowd, Hitler style by creating the big lie. Blame the minorities for stealing what is rightfully yours and desperately want, promise everyone riches beyond their wildest dreams, (by making your country great again) and delegitimize the media so whatever is reported about you can be dismissed as fake and you are on your way to becoming Chancellor of America.
While he had no bible quotes at the ready to inspire them, the truths he had something far more potent: he was a brand like Coke and KFC that came equipped with a Rolex and a tower and an arm candy obedient wife.
Just being in his presence made you feel like you too could win the Lotto and maybe even buy a cap or two. Obama had never been one of them. He didn’t act, talk or look like them. But this guy, the one who stomped around for years claiming that Obama was not an American, he’s speaks their kind of English.
Best of all he was an asshole, but he was their asshole. They finally found their counterpunch mouthpiece who could take on the Washington elite, which was clearly represented by a fancy WOMAN (the kind he likes to grab and maul) Hilary Clinton. Even watching him stalk her like a brute during the debates, gave the masses a kind of WWE thrill (which is a world that he literally was a part of years back).
Trump had long despised any system that despised him, so this was his act of revenge and everyone else’s by proxy.
I spent ten days in the south over Christmas, and the take away for me was both surprising and simple: the hardcore red are not the idiot cartoons that we northerners make them out to be. Not by a long shot. Okay some are, but here in New York we have our share of morons too. Trump is form here for God’s sake.
Most of the folks I met were incredibly hospitable and kind and very aware of how we feel about them.
At every step along the way, however, from Georgia to North Carolina, I bought a local paper and what I discovered is that there was no national news in virtually any of them. There was zero mention of Trump. The papers were all about their own isolated, local world and that was it.
The only hard news sources that exist to feed them are local gossip, Fox News and Breitbart.
These folks are used to being preached to. They are not plugged in like we are. They could not even conceive of what the hell a Rachel Maddow is.
Church plays a huge role in keeping them mesmerized and hopelessly hooked on the ancient past. There is a good reason that they hate the entire concept of evolution. To evolve would mean having to let go of all that they know and that is a kind of threat that is unimaginable to them. What is normal to us in the big cities is naturally offensive to them. That does not make them stupid. It makes them stuck.
They are, all, sadly, the Confederacy of the Donces now and when they feel beaten and lost, they are born again thanks to the instant delivery of the next tweet storm or personal attack of Me-sus.
He is the God in whom they trust and have invested all of their faith in.
But for the rest of us the Wolfe at the door has huffed and puffed and blown the White House down and revealed what all of us have long known.
Me-sus is a fake.
It’s why he uses that word ALL the time. It’s his way of literally and figuratively exposing himself, no differently than your garden variety subway pervert. Look how big my button is.
I believe him when he says there was no collusion because collusion implies a master plan and Trump is incapable of masterminding anything.
He was and will always be a loser (another word he uses ALL the time), and knowing that he was going to lose the election, he simply played the game the way he has all his life: by cheating and scamming, accusing and attacking and getting away with it.
Lawyers like Roy Cohn, rescued him over and over and over and over again.
And now he literally does not understand why guys like Jeff Sessions won’t act like the calvary and bail him out.
What is worse is that the GOP is starting to rally around him, following his playbook and going after people like Christopher Steele—-who was the first whistler blower.
John Le Carre, whose father was a scam artist of spectacular proportions, which no doubt informed his decision to become a secret agent, said it will all come down to the money trail, which then implicate Trump’s children. That should do it.
But until then, we have to live with the bloated faces of Trump and Sarah Huckabee for yet another day.
To get through that day, there is a quick and easy prescription. Alll you have to do is treat them like all the other fake televangelists that are out there shilling and lying.
Turn them off,