Mr. Grift Goes to Washington
I originally wrote this as a Facebook post last night, where it blew up a little, so my wife suggested that I post on Medium also.
But things move fast around here.
And since I wrote it, the President has again lashed out with his hammer to deride a “so-called judge” — basically trying to delegitimize the Judicial Branch.
And, again, it’s a strategy that’s always worked for him in his personal and business dealings because nobody had the energy or investment to chase him down and take him to task on everything — he could just fling a smoke bomb, bog things down and continue to dodge and weave his way onto the next big grift.
And if you only get nailed 10% of the time, then that’s pretty good odds.
But since inauguration, there has been a relentless, incessant focus on his every word and action, and he hates it and has no idea how to respond — “Why you gotta ask me about that? I said that last week. It’s the past. And anyway, words aren’t immutable bedrocks, they’re shifting sands. And you’re just a little baby. Yeah, baby, that’s right. You’re just a little crying pathetic baby.”
It also doesn’t help that he has absolutely no concept of governing, governance, compromise or the constitutional framework.
Somebody should have left three post-its on his desk the day he took office:
- Always get involved in a land war in Eastasia since we’ve always been at war with them
- Remember: If you’re going to try to implement a malicious and vile agenda, DO NOT KEYSTONE KOPS THAT IMPLEMENTATION
- Never get involved in provoking a completely unnecessary showdown with the Judicial Branch that may end up dragging a hitherto reluctant Legislative Branch into the fray, particularly when your popular mandate doesn’t exist (And even if you feel you have to do it, at least wait until you’ve consolidated a stable coalition of support, and certainly not until at least a year in office has elapsed. DEFINITELY DON’T DO IT IN YOUR FIRST TWO WEEKS IN OFFICE).
Original Rant (Completely NSFW):
After the week that was, and particularly the last two days, I think Trump is fucked six ways to Sunday.
And I think he’s completely oblivious to that fact
I don’t know what happens next, or how long it takes.
I sincerely hope, for the sake of the nation, that it’s not an impeachment, but I think that we’re going to witness a (relatively) rapid deflation of the perception that the impregnable, unassailable inner-circle of Bannon, Kelly, Kirchner, Conway, Spicer etc. Is a relentless, capable shark feasting on the dying corpse of the Republic.
And in the background, Pence is riddled with shame, beating off to gay porn, all the while tearfully screaming abuse at himself and hoping that Mother Pence doesn’t hear.
(But, as always, remember that I was convinced that Trump would never be Republican candidate.
And then was equally convinced he’d never be president.
So, I guess I’ll be seeing you in the reeducation camps, where I’ll be equally definitive in my prognostications).
DJT brought a one-size fits all hammer of insult, dominance and derision to the primaries and it worked, much as it worked for all his life.
He brought the same hammer to the general election, and surprisingly, it also worked.
But he’s now in the big leagues, where at the best of times, you are constantly fighting a tireless swarm of viciously smart people trying to topple you — and that’s just people in your own caucus/party.
And you have people that can deploy every tool from an obsidian flake to a PET-scan. But meanwhile, you keep lumbering along and flailing with your hammer.
The best proponents of the dark arts of DC are people that you preemptively swung your rube hammer at.
You think you’ve vanquished them, but they’re simply momentarily stunned. They’re gathering their energies, thinking “am I missing something? surely there’s some strategy here and I didn’t just get whacked with a rube hammer for no reason”, and while you’re jauntily walking on to your next unprovoked fight, hammer swinging by your side, they’re looking quizzically at your back,wondering why Mother Pence’s sub. is whimperbating in the background, and they’re plotting their revenge.
So, two weeks later, by the time you’re growling at everyone, asserting your dominance and brooking no dissent (because that’s always worked), there has been a fetid ecosystem (that is baseline way smarter than you) figuring out how to fuck you up but good.
And that’s not even counting the people that you egregiously rube hammered on the campaign trail that you now expect, in this milieu, to easily swat away with another whack of the hammer.
But guess what? Simply lurching around bellowing “I’M THE PRESIDENT NOW. STOP HITTING YOURSELF. STOP HITTING YOURSELF.” isn’t sufficient.
And you’ve got all these (at the best of times voracious, but given your circumstances, completely insatiably voracious) sharks circling you. And no matter how many times you swing your rube hammer and assert that “I AM THE PRESIDENT”, they keep getting closer.
Because you’ve never built a coalition before, or tried to balance an uneasy set of tradeoffs, your instincts are to come down hard on the sharks and iron-fist the cartilaginous shit out of them., so you flail.
It doesn’t work, so you turn to your talented inner-circle
a) a bleary-eyed alcoholic ex-Breitbart mercenary-soldier-wannabe white supremacist;
b) a skeletal reality-denying Jersey girl that proudly blew every member of every band that came through the Tri-State area between 1983 and 1986;
c) a press-secretary whose self-loathing is only outweighed by the loathing that his colleagues harbor towards him;
d) that weird, insipid, self-denying gay dude that fucked up Indiana;
e) your son-in-law whose incompetence is only matched by your lust for his hot wife;
f) your sons (just kidding:-) — they’re fucking idiots!);
g) and of course, last-but-not-least, General Kelly who’s excitedly shoving a handful of his own poop into your face while screaming at you “This is what Islam does! Smell it! We need to go after every one of those Goddamned Eye-Rainians and we need to hit them hard.”
And you’re getting pissed (and distracted, because this has been a good two minutes of constant focus) and you don’t care about the details, and why isn’t one of these idiots doing something. So, you heft the rube hammer and get ready to swing.
When someone comes running in yelling about some “judicial branch” that’s had the fucking temerity to fucking contradict you.
So you scream “Outrageous!” and flail the hammer
While someone else comes running up to you saying you’re not popular
And someone else is yelling about the taxpayer cost of Eric’s business trip to Uruguay
And what’s this? The Secretary of the Army nominee is withdrawing. The same Secretary of the Army nominee you picked despite it being the usual prerogative of the Secretary of Defense. Who may or may not be pissed at you for this unprecedented shit pulling. But you thought it would be a good idea to have someone loyal to you in there with “Mad Dog” Matthis.
And wife-daughter is upset because someone is now saying that it wasn’t sufficient that she pledge to divest. She’s actually expected to divest.
And while you’re trying to wield the rube-hammer in all these directions, yelling “I’M NOW THE PRESIDENT. YOU HAVE TO DO WHAT I SAY!!”, Skellyanne is running in circles nipping at your heels yelping “he’s he president. you have to do what he says. no more fake media”; Spicer is reciting “How now brown cow” (knowing that the next day, he can deny that’s what he said and adamantly state that what he said was “you’re the president etc.”); Bannon is looking at the couch and wondering how fuckable it is now, because three days ago, when he was only two days into this coke binge, it wasn’t such a great experience; your sons are mutually elbow deep in each others’ asses trying to grab a solid fart before it melts; your daughter and son-in-law have disappeared because they’re planting a story in Vanity Fair, and all the while the grey-haired sanctimonious simpleton is jerking off in the corner, hoping mother Pence doesn’t see him.
And now the fake NYT is doubling down publishing a story about how you’re not really divested from your businesses and you’re thinking “Sure. But I said I was divested, so isn’t that all that matters? And now I’m the president”
And all the while, there’s a clamor for details, details, fucking details, Just stop with the details already. I’m the President!
You’re standing there, threatening everyone with the rube hammer, issuing an Executive Order stating that it’s “evil” to make a president upset when you notice John McCain walking towards you.
And you think to yourself “John McCain? What a loser. All I got to do is hit him with my rube hammer and belittle him for being a war-hero even though I dodged the draft, purloined a purple heart and got into a fight with a Gold Star Family. And that will distract everyone”
And that’s how I anticipate the next ’n’ weeks/months going for our esteemed President.