Ready to spew If the average American hadn’t suspected it before, Trump’s tweet that he does not, in fact, have any secret recordings of his meeting with former FBI big cheese James Comey, tapes that would reveal the truth about what Comey says, that the Big Tangerine leaned on him to stop investigating whether the National Security Advisor was a Russian spy, should make us all finally realize that we are in the midst of the first attempt to rule our country by complete bullshit.
From the size of the inaugural crowds to the secret plan to defeat Isis to the claim that millions of illegal voters that denied him a popular vote victory, the Prevaricator-In-Chief cannot open his mouth without spouting self-serving bullshit. He is utterly stuffed with the substance, a fetid core of crap, enclosed by a thin layer of human skin, kind of like a bullshit Terminator.
All Presidents lie. It’s in the nature of the job. Daddy Bush said he wouldn’t raise taxes, Bubba Clinton said he didn’t have sex with that woman, Dubya told us invading Iraq would cure terrorism and Obama said we could keep our health plans. The President knows that sometimes it is his job not to tell us stuff we don’t won’t to hear, or, less admirably, stuff that won’t help him get re-elected. But all previous Presidents have at least told the truth some of the time. Well, maybe not Dubya, but at least he thought he was telling us the truth, when, really, he was just repeating what Darth Cheney was telling him.
But we are now being presided over not by a navel orange filled with juicy segments, but a citrus object stuffed with pieces of meadow muffin. He is the loudmouth at the country club who never gets tired of bragging that he has the most money, gets the most sex and has the best house of all the members. Everybody who listens to him figures he’s miles in debt, gets laid only by hookers because his wife saves herself for the club tennis pro, and that his home is an architectural nightmare filled with tasteless crap. But nobody calls him on his bullshit.
This does not bode well. History does not speak kindly of leaders who ruled by bullshit. Whether they wrote the bullshit themselves (Hitler and Mao) or followed somebody else’s bullshit (Lenin and Stalin), it always ended in murder, as they frantically tried to kill everybody who didn’t believe their bullshit. History actually treats guys like Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan more generously, guys who had no ideology other than thinking to themselves, “Hey, I know a lot of dudes with swords. I can conquer the world.”
Will we find ourselves in the same boat as other nations that have foundered upon the shoals of bullshit? I don’t know. Trump’s bullshit is pretty disorganized. Nobody’s going to climb into a foxhole to save the chocolate cake at Mar al Lago, or toss a grenade at Nordstrom’s because they quit carrying Ivanka’s underwear line. And, thanks to the Internet, building FEMA concentration camps for everybody who’s ever seen a nude pic of the First Lady would be an engineering undertaking that would dwarf building that bullshit wall.
So, we might escape, except for all the people that might die because they don’t have healthcare anymore. The rest of us will just stay here, and silently think what the people who have to listen to that drunk braggart at the country club bar are silently thinking, which is, When the fuck are you going to shut up and go home?
Because any time now would be good.
From the size of the inaugural crowds to the secret plan to defeat Isis to the claim that millions of illegal voters that denied him a popular vote victory, the Prevaricator-In-Chief cannot open his mouth without spouting self-serving bullshit. He is utterly stuffed with the substance, a fetid core of crap, enclosed by a thin layer of human skin, kind of like a bullshit Terminator.
All Presidents lie. It’s in the nature of the job. Daddy Bush said he wouldn’t raise taxes, Bubba Clinton said he didn’t have sex with that woman, Dubya told us invading Iraq would cure terrorism and Obama said we could keep our health plans. The President knows that sometimes it is his job not to tell us stuff we don’t won’t to hear, or, less admirably, stuff that won’t help him get re-elected. But all previous Presidents have at least told the truth some of the time. Well, maybe not Dubya, but at least he thought he was telling us the truth, when, really, he was just repeating what Darth Cheney was telling him.
But we are now being presided over not by a navel orange filled with juicy segments, but a citrus object stuffed with pieces of meadow muffin. He is the loudmouth at the country club who never gets tired of bragging that he has the most money, gets the most sex and has the best house of all the members. Everybody who listens to him figures he’s miles in debt, gets laid only by hookers because his wife saves herself for the club tennis pro, and that his home is an architectural nightmare filled with tasteless crap. But nobody calls him on his bullshit.
This does not bode well. History does not speak kindly of leaders who ruled by bullshit. Whether they wrote the bullshit themselves (Hitler and Mao) or followed somebody else’s bullshit (Lenin and Stalin), it always ended in murder, as they frantically tried to kill everybody who didn’t believe their bullshit. History actually treats guys like Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan more generously, guys who had no ideology other than thinking to themselves, “Hey, I know a lot of dudes with swords. I can conquer the world.”
Will we find ourselves in the same boat as other nations that have foundered upon the shoals of bullshit? I don’t know. Trump’s bullshit is pretty disorganized. Nobody’s going to climb into a foxhole to save the chocolate cake at Mar al Lago, or toss a grenade at Nordstrom’s because they quit carrying Ivanka’s underwear line. And, thanks to the Internet, building FEMA concentration camps for everybody who’s ever seen a nude pic of the First Lady would be an engineering undertaking that would dwarf building that bullshit wall.
So, we might escape, except for all the people that might die because they don’t have healthcare anymore. The rest of us will just stay here, and silently think what the people who have to listen to that drunk braggart at the country club bar are silently thinking, which is, When the fuck are you going to shut up and go home?
Because any time now would be good.
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