Ledes are getting a-buried, Enthusiasts! Soil turned, loosed, set aside and replaced with a void: and now the corpse FLUMP and before you refill the hole you also shoot your partner, Snitchy, who really shouldn’t have been let into the gang in the first place, and into the raggedly-dug grave goes Snitchy, too.
What’s happening here?
Sentence got away from me.
They’re wily like that.
Shut up, I’m talking about politics like a pundit. The past two days of Great King Shitsthebed’s reign have been even more tumultuous than usual, reminiscent of his “Nazis are people, too” moment after Charlottesville, but with the added glamour of the San Fernando Valley. And that half-hour a state thought it was going to die. (The amount that this man can fuck up in a day is staggering and enervating to the bystander: he is like Teddy Roosevelt, if Teddy Roosevelt sucked. Donald Trump is–in every sense of the word–a Stakhanovite.)
Let’s examine the three incidents and note where the important detail has been overlooked.
The Shithole Thing It’s not the language: there are multiple botnets–both virtual and human–trying to push the argument that other presidents were equally as vulgar. Irrelevant. Nixon was as foulmouthed as a sailor with Tourette’s, and Johnson had his dick out around 60% of the day, but they behaved this way in private.
Nor is it the racism. The only onlookers who do not realize that the Grand Wizard of Jamaica Estates is a racist are people who will never do so. They live in long articles in the New York Times containing lyrical descriptions of wheat fields, and Walmarts, and off-brand cigarettes. They admire a man who says what we’re all thinking. They are the economically anxious, and they do not think Donald Trump is a racist.
The rest of us, who aren’t fucking cretins, know that Basketball Head is a racist. It is not news he that would advocate Norwegian immigration over Haitian. (Nor, for that matter, is it news that he’s so ill-informed about the world that he thinks there’s a mass of Norwegians clamoring to leave their socialist igloos to live in Houston. We know he’s dumb, too.)
The important bit–as I alluded to–was that he made these comments as close to “in public” as is possible without a PA system. The Oval Office was full of Democrats who openly despise him, and Republicans that secretly do. Anything he said in that meeting may well have been tweeted out.
Who’s ready for some Game Theory?
Yeah, I was just kidding.
You better be.
No one needs that here. Besides, Game Theory doesn’t apply to Trump. You have to assume rational actors in GT, and he’s just a giant Filet-O-Hate at this point and doesn’t behave like a normal person.
Thus, we can eliminate the theory that the pouch-eyed flop was dropping “shithole” into the meeting on purpose, that he wanted it to get leaked to appeal to his base. Now: it certainly has appealed to his base, because his base is composed of scum, but this was not a strategic play. If you had asked him about it immediately after the meeting, he would not have recalled saying it, but would argue that it was a great thing to say, probably the greatest, and many people were already congratulating him on it.
He can’t get through a meeting with his political opponents without blurting out racist bullshit. That doesn’t speak to his racism, it speaks to his mental faculties.
The Porn Star Thing
The president is a whoremonger. They made you say the Pledge of Allegiance every morning for your entire childhood, and now the president mongs whores. How’s that make you feel? Angry? Makes me angry, it should make you angry. Go get your guns. Get angry and get your guns. Now look up the directions to the roller rink.
No, fuck that. I’m mad and I want to shoot up a roller rink. It’s my right as an American.
This is why the New Yorker won’t hire you.
Get back to the point.
Which is that it was missed. The weak and failing media, which is very fake, was of course obsessed with the salacious bits of the story. For example: the boobies. And also: the butthole. Less so: the blackmail.
The President of the United States.
Why did you stop?
I wanted to let the phrase percolate. Allow the Enthusiasts to dream of the terrible power ingrained in the phrase. The history. The blood. The city that phrase killed with a signature, and the other city it killed three days later with the same ease. I was letting the moment simmer.
The President of the United States was extorted by a porn star.
I wish you hadn’t let it simmer. It hurt more.
It’s the embarrassment! It’s just all so fucking embarrassing!
You know the test where there’s food at the bottom of a jar with a small opening? And you can get your hand in to get the food, but then you can’t get it back out once you’ve made a fist?
How long you think it would take Trump to let the food go?
He never would. He would stagger around the West Wing smashing the jar into walls trying to break it. And he wouldn’t be able to, but he would refuse to take the jar off his hand and he does the State of the Union speech like that.
I agree. Good for us for not making a “small hands” joke there.
We cut our own path.
I’m confident that the President of the United States was only extorted just the once. And isn’t currently being extorted. I’m confident.
The Hawaii Thing
You may recall Attorney General Jefferson Bocephus Sessions saying that Hawaii was just some “island in the Pacific,” which is like Turnip’s “shithole” comment in that it is on one level true, but that level is second-grade. Plus–and you’ll find this is a theme with these pinheads–you’re not supposed to say it out loud. (Unless, of course, you’re doing it on purpose to wink at your darky-hating supporters, but Jefferson Burningmississippi Sessions would never do something like that.)
(Now, you and I know that Hawaii shouldn’t actually be an American state, but humans are so clever that we got the point where the North American continent and the Asian one could trade regularly, and also kill each other regularly, so it’s better to control Hawaii than let the other guy do it. Also: pineapples.)
This morning, there was a false alarm broadcast out over the Emergency System threatening the island with incoming missiles. THIS IS NOT A DRILL, it said. The alerts are issued from everyone’s phones now–there used to be air raid sirens and radio announcements–and the noise is terrible. Families huddled in bathrooms, and others drank and fucked speedily. There were no missiles. Someone fucked up. And it was not Trump.
Finally, a win.
Putting aside the fact that it took him 13 hours to tweet about the incident when he SITS THERE every fucking morning TALKING TO THE TEEVEE like a DODDERING WRETCH–
Stop yelling. This is not the place for that. You’re a literary talent.
No more yelling.
It’s just all so embarrassing.
He was golfing, because of course he was golfing, when the false alarm went out and not notified until the “all clear” was given. There are two ways to interpret this:
- No one around Basketball Head, some of whom must be assumed to be at least semi-intelligent, thought that Hawaii’s impending incineration was important enough to interrupt the 10th hole.
- They did think it was important, and conspired not to tell the president in fear of an unhinged response.
We’re all gonna fucking die.