Trump — Seduced by his own Manhood

I was watching the #TrumpPressConference this morning on my computer, while my 4 kids were vying for my attention. They wanted to play in the snow, and their school had been cancelled for the day. I for one am sick of the snow and anything that has to do with winter wonderlands. There is nothing for me to do in the snow (maybe a little hiking, some bird watching, sledding on occasion with the kids, a lot of snow shoveling this year).

A Family Hike up Badger Mtn. in the snow. About as Adventurous as I get.

I don’t ski anymore because I have anxiety. What am I afraid of? Part of me is nervous about driving up to the mountain in our family van and just plummeting off of the icy mtn. pass. Another part of me gets vertigo on ski chair lifts. One time I almost jumped off because my mind thought “What’s the use, you are going to die anyway, you might as well accelerate the process.”

So, I’m sitting this morning on my recliner chair, my laptop teetering on the edge of the arm rest watching Trump give his “Presidential” press conference on Youtube. The more he speaks, the more my jaw opens until it finally comes to rest on the living room floor.

I can’t believe what I am seeing and hearing. It is NOT real life. King Trump is not real right?

I look around for someone to share this experience with me. All I see are four kids, three boys and an oldest girl. They are playing wrestle mania and my daughter is the announcer.

So, instead of human interaction, I open a new Chrome tab and jump onto Twitter. I’m not actually officially on twitter. I have an alias account that I go to when I’m craving some digital community.

I click on the Top Trending Hashtag:

#TrumpPressConference

I scroll through it a little bit. With feelings of laughter, amusement, despair, shock and wonder.

I finally stop at a tweet that catches my eye and stirs my soul:

I know the story of Macbeth. I studied it in High School.

The Shakespearean tragedy of a soon to be King so seduced by his own manhood and ambitions that he fears, shames and kills anyone that stands in his way.

I don’t know Ken Stewart (the author of the tweet). Surely, he must be a news reporter, a journalist, a professional political commentator, maybe an english professor?

I’m certain he must have at least 10,000 followers.

So I click on his Twitter name.

I see his picture at the top. Seems like a normal guy. Maybe an outdoorsman.

He has less than 150 followers and most of those were probably picked up after this tweet.

I don’t even scroll through his other tweets. I don’t want to know the bad with the good. If he is a political junkie or a rabble-rouser, I don’t know it and don’t want to know it.

For today he is a twitter hero to me.