November 16, 2020

The Crazed, the Crisis, and the Cult of Donald Trump

What’s on my mind? 


If Donald Trump were to fall on his head (clunk!); pardon himself for all past and future crimes; wheedle that he wants to play with “that big red button;” and start signing blank proclamations with “Forever, The Don;” his Republican enablers might roll their eyes with one of those “Oh, you kidder!” looks. 


But if Trump began singing “We Are the World;” conceded the best man won the election and “I ain’t it;” recanted every conspiracy theory he’d ever absorbed, retold, and retweeted; embraced fair-minded media outlets; told Rosie O’Donnell he respected her; told Melania he loved her; told Putin, Kim, Xi, and other dictators the bromance was over; apologized to every person, corporation, and agency he’d ever hurt, lied, cheated, unfairly fired, or otherwise trashed …  


If he did that and restored every international treaty from which he’d precipitously withdrawn; every diplomatic relationship he’d ended in a fit of pique; admitted he’s not the brightest bulb in the chandelier; trusted reason, science, and the wisdom of daily briefings; and (oh-h-h-h, yes-s-s-s!) admitted Don Jr.’s an angry jerk, Rudy’s a nutter, Dr. Scott Atlas is out of his depth, and he (the 45th President of the United States) has been an incompetent loon since Day One as well as being a danger to the free world ...


Well ... If Trump did this and more, those same Republican enablers might shake in their shoes, knowing the jig is up. 


Say bye-bye, Donald. Time to put on your big boy pants and stop being such a cry-baby.

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