Don’t delude yourself, Trump’s incredulous press conferences and twittertantrums following the Charlottesville hate fest aren’t a new low. They are the same endless scraping of the bottom of the pit of despair we’ve all been tossed into for the last 6 months.
Honestly, Rod Serling couldn’t have written an episode of The Twilight Zone this dystopian.
That’s because the crescendo of each episode was the bad guy’s remorse–always come too late–that the personal hell he had inherited was of his own doing. Of course, it only worked because those characters were like us. We are Homo Sapiens. The “Wise Man.” Adam and Eve after the apple.
Then there’s Trump. He can’t suffer the consequences of his actions, nor experience any remorse. It’s not worth speculating why. Because it won’t help.
Just accept what Conservative politico Rick Wilson has been trying to say for a full year:
There is no better Trump.
If there is one piece of genuinely Fake News the Mainstream Media is guilty of brandishing, it’s the delusional notion that any day now, Trump will discover the moral imperatives of his position.
That pipe-dream is, to quote Macbeth, a tale, told by an idiot. Thing is, while Trump is full of an idiot’s sound and fury, his words do signify something.
So in case you are one of the 25% of Americans who still support Trump, or you know one of them, take a few minutes to consider someone else’s words for a few minutes. No, not mine. Comedian Jimmy Kimmel’s.
In case you missed it, he scrapped his entire opening monologue earlier this week to lay this all out in black and white that anyone can appreciate.
I want to speak to those of you who voted for Donald Trump. And first of all, I want to say I get it. I actually do. You’re unhappy with the way things were going. You wanted someone to come in and shake things up. You didn’t want business as usual. Nothing ever seems to get done. It’s always the same. These candidates make a lot of promises that go nowhere. It happens over and over again. And you’re sick of it.
And so this guy shows up riding down a golden escalator. He’s not part of the political establishment. In fact, he’s the opposite of that. He’s a billionaire — maybe. He’s written books. He’s not politically correct. He’s not even correct, usually. He talks tough. He wants to drain the swamp. Sometimes he can be funny. He rips into his opponents in a way politicians never do, have never done before.
And you thought, you know what? This guy’s different and that’s what I want. Different. Let’s roll the dice, let’s get him in there, have him run the country like a business. Cut the dead weight, toughen everyone up. Let’s shake this Etch-a-sketch hard and start over.
So you vote for him. You pick him over Jeb Bush and Ted Cruz and John Kasich and a dozen other Republicans whose names we forgot. And ultimately he beats them. He strolls in, he beats all of these guys. These guys who have been in politics forever. And then he beats the ultimate political insider, Hillary Clinton, a woman who’s been running for office — a woman who ran for president of her mother’s uterus in the womb. He beats her. Everyone said he wouldn’t. But he did. And it’s exciting because this is your guy. You picked a horse like 35-1 and somehow it paid off.
So now he’s the president. And it starts off okay. Meets with President Obama and they seem to have a nice conversation. Then he moves into the White House. Right off the bat he’s angry at the media for reporting the crowd at his inauguration was smaller than he thought it was — which was weird, but not important, really. And he claimed it stopped raining when he was speaking at his inaugural address, which everyone could see it was raining. But okay. It was his first week. You give him a break.
So he gets in there, hires his daughter. He hires his son-in-law. Demands an investigation of voter fraud even though he won the election. He calls the prime minister of Australia and hangs up on him. He won’t shake Angela Merkel’s hand. He doesn’t know Frederick Douglass isn’t alive. He claims he can’t release his tax returns because they’re under audit, then says he’s not going to release them at all. He signs a ban on Muslims that he claims isn’t a ban on Muslims. He compliments the president of the Philippines for murdering drug addicts.
Hours after a terror attack in London he starts a fight with their mayor. After criticizing Obama for playing golf he plays golf every weekend. He accidentally shares classified intelligence with the Russians. He tweets a typo at midnight, then wakes up and claims it was a secret message. He praises Jim Comey in October, calls him a coward in June. He fires him. He lashes out at his own attorney general for recusing himself from an investigation.
He hires the Mooch, he fires the Mooch. He bans the transgender in the military without telling anyone in the military he’s doing it. He plays chicken with Kim Jong Un. And that’s just some of the list. If I went through all of it would be longer than the menu at the Cheesecake Factory. It would be huge.
So here he is by every reasonable account, and I’m using his own words here, he is a total disaster. He screws up royally every day. Sometimes two or three times a day. We can’t keep up with it. Things come out of nowhere. Every day there’s something nuts. But you’ve been trying to ignore it because you don’t want to admit to these smug, annoying liberals that they were right. That’s the last thing you want to do.
But the truth is deep down inside you know you made a mistake. You know you picked the wrong guy. And it isn’t getting better. It’s getting worse. So you can do one of two things. You can dig in like Chris Christie at a hometown buffet. Or, you can treat the situation like you would if you’d put “Star Wars” wallpaper up in the kitchen: “All right, I got caught up. I was excited. I made a mistake. And now it needs to go.”
Well, now he does need to go. So it’s time for especially you who voted for him to tell him to go. Please. Think about it. He doesn’t even want to be president. He’s miserable. But he won’t resign because his ego is too big. He can’t do it.
So in the meantime, all he can do is stroke it. And every choice he makes is in service to it. Not in service to me. Nor you. Nor our country. And certainly not the Constitution he swore to preserve, protect, and defend.
Featured image from flickr.