This is What Happens When You Register For Tickets To See Donald Trump on a Lark

#boobyprize

A few months back, I registered for tickets to see Donald Trump when he visited my hometown of Atlanta. I was inspired exclusively by morbid fascination. I am horrified, aghast and deeply concerned about Trump’s rise and what it says about our country and its populace. But I’m also obsessed and fascinated to the point where I recently spent a week attending both The Republican National Convention and The Gathering of the Juggalos with my long-lost half brother for an Amazon kindle single that is released today called 7 Days In Ohio: Trump, The Gathering of the Juggalos And The Summer Everything Went Insane.

I stayed on the Donald Trump email list after his appearance came and went because it provided fascinating insight into his campaign and appeal. And it never hurts to know more about the enemy. I wouldn’t say that I learned anything new from being sent several emails a day from folks onboard the Trump Train, but it has deepened my understanding of the carny, Glengarry Glen Ross impulses of this toxic basket of deplorables so I figured I would share the experience with you.

  1. You will be thanked extensively for non-existent donations

I have never donated a penny to the Trump campaign. On the contrary, my primary “contributions” to his campaign consist entirely of a never-ending stream of invective delivered @ Trump and his minions on Twitter and apoplectic articles like this one. Yet that somehow has not kept the Trump campaign from continually characterizing me as one of their biggest and most important donors.

They’ve made me feel like it is solely my non-existent donations that is keeping the campaign afloat. I’ve apparently made it into the ranks of “Big League Donors” thanks to my theoretical generosity. Think about it: The Trump campaign lies to me about things I haven’t done to me and does so regularly. Apparently it believes that this blatant dishonesty will make me more likely to give them money. And if that surprises you, then you clearly know nothing about the rancid orange bloviator terrorizing our democracy

2. Trump will continually try to get you to donate enough money for a special campaign edition copy of The Art Of The Deal, a book whose co-author (Tony Schwarz) described Trump as a narcissistic sociopath incapable of reading a book, let alone writing one.

Imagine that it came out that you had almost nothing to do with the book that made your reputation. Imagine that your ostensible “co-author” or “ghost-writer” came forward and said that he didn’t help you write the book, or write the book with you, so much as he wrote the book despite you on account of you being a deranged narcissist with the attention span and focus of an injured mosquito and about as much capacity for self-reflection and honesty.

That’d be pretty embarrassing, huh? It’d probably make you want to avoid even thinking about a book so tainted by its actual author’s full-bodied, and amply justified hatred for you. Well, not if you’re Donald Trump. The Art Of The Deal author Tony Schwartz famously came forward in a viral New Yorker article about his horrific experiences writing The Art Of The Deal for a man he now considers a terrible threat to American democracy. Yet that somehow hasn’t kept Trump from relentlessly promoting both the book and a limited-edition campaign edition that can be yours for a big enough donation. Something tells me he didn’t ask for Schwartz’s go-ahead before relentlessly pimping a book Schwartz clearly wrote himself, and that Trump may not even have read.

3. The Trump campaign will constantly play to your ego by depicting you as a pro-American (i.e “anti-immigrant”) patriot and Great American without whom his noble, selfless, Christ-like campaign for the soul of America would not get anywhere

Someone in the Trump campaign noticed that Hilary Clinton’s “I’m With Her” motto afforded Trump an opportunity to really play up his greatest virtue: humility. Unlike that selfish Hilary, who makes it all about her Trump makes it all about you. That’s why his motto is “I’m with you.” Look, Trump didn’t stick his name in giant letters on everything he owns and a lot of things he doesn’t because he’s egotistical. Nor is he angrily demanding to be the most powerful person in the world despite having no relevant experience whatsoever because he’s on some ego trip.

On the contrary, Trump has merely become (by his own estimation) the greatest businessman and job-creator and human being of all time (Jesus doesn’t count, what with that fruity “half divine” thing; God is the ultimate fat cat insider!) solely so that he could be in a place to save the world as only he can. Because he cares nothing about himself and his own fame and glory, he’s continually offering me and everyone else on his mailing list an opportunity to prove my devotion to him in order to collect a series of tacky baubles with his name all over it, like the opportunity to become a member of his “Board of Directors” (an honor clearly only offered to several million of his biggest supporters, supporters like me). And with each of this honor comes the possibility that (see 5) Trump will see your name on one of his lists of donators and come to your house and heal you of your leprosy or blindness.

4. You will be so inundated with emails “from” Ivanka Trump asking if you’d like to (donate money and be entered into a drawing that affords you a microscopic chance to) grab coffee with her that it will soon feel like she’s trying to rope you into an extramarital affair.

Trump seems to linger under the impression that America has fallen hopelessly in love with his children and that they could imagine nothing more exquisite than to sit opposite Eric Trump and gaze into his cold, dead shark eyes while he yammers on and on about peace through strength and a Reich that will last a thousand years, I mean, the dangers of political correctness, while the scent of Axe body spray overpowers you.

Yes, Trump seems to think that the world worships and adores his children, and doesn’t see them as yuppie pod people, grown-up Children of the Damned and modern-day Patrick Batemans. But he is onto something in pushing daughter Ivanka to the forefront. She is model gorgeous and shockingly non-terrible for someone who began life instead of Donald Trump’s testicles. Maybe that’s why I’ve received so many emails “from” Ivanka with a subject line flirtatiously reading. “Coffee?”

If I get one more email like that from Ivanka, I’m going to start feeling sexually harassed. Sorry, Ivanka. I want your father defeated, humiliated, and his ideas roundly rejected as hateful and unAmerican. I don’t want to grab espressos with you in midtown. Nothing personal, I just despise your father with the heat and intensity of a million suns.

5. Trump and his surrogates will continually tease you by saying that if you make a donation to the Trump campaign, your name will be placed on a magical list of fellow Trump contributors (who represent a huge percentage of the population, of course, but not huge enough) that Trump will look at intently and bestow his generosity upon you.

The implicit suggestion is that Trump might stumble randomly upon your name and think, “Well, the last eight rage-choked, misogynistic hate-mongers I hired to run my campaign all crashed and burned but I like the name of this Nathan Rabin from Decatur, Georgia. And that 20 dollar donation really shows that he’s a big league contributor who belongs on my board of directors and should have many, many gold cards and certificates with my name on it. Why don’t I give him a chance to run my campaign now? After all, I am the voice of the people, and I will prove myself worthy of the top job in politics by proving conclusively that I know nothing about politics. How better to prove that by having a random stranger from a list run my campaign?”

From the way his campaign’s emails are composed, you would imagine that Trump spends most of his time staring at lists of donors, apparently so he can go full-on Willie Wonka and send out the email equivalent of a magic ticket allowing a few lucky boys and girls the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to enjoy a tour of his magical American-Greatness-making factory. But in order to win this, you’ll have to beat me, and I’m pretty certain that I’m Trump’s favorite donor and contributor. I can’t even imagine how excited he would be about me if I were ever to actually donate anything.