New York Magazine Joked About Donald Trump’s Ass, But What Really Sucks Is How Unfunny It Is

President Trump has spent exactly a week in office and so much shit has hit the fan that there is no way we can escape the stain of dismay.

Even as I hastily compose this piece, targeted travelers with valid visas are stuck in the country of their heritage because they are no longer able to come and go as they please.

It’s all about executive orders, protests from both sides of the spectrum, photoshopped pics that prove why “small hands” are indeed attached to tiny brains, as well as harmless memes that do more harm than good.

Exhibit A. Ass-gate.

Listen, we are all on the verge of succumbing to the effects of emotional diarrhea. We lost a competent, charismatic, highly intelligent Commander-in-Chief — and gained a yellow-haired, tormented bully who is not only woefully insecure, but also dangerously callous in his need to whip us with the knowledge that he doesn’t give a damn how much he fucks us over.

Yes, it is quite entertaining to witness and mock his flighty disposition. His disastrous tactics are even more alarming than we could’ve ever imagined. There was no transition of power. It was an abrupt end to romance and the beginning of a heartbreak that demands a healthy amount of purging.

There are a variety of ways to handle grief and I must say that most of us are doing okay — considering the burden of reality.

Media outlets are struggling to outdo each other with bedazzled heds and unimaginative think pieces. There is not much thought filtered into variances of how Trump and his gang are plotting to wreck havoc on law-abiding citizens — who don’t inhabit the pews of neighborhood churches or carefully decide against ending their pregnancies.

All the articles that are meant to give us something to think about end up blending into a quilt of mishap. The words are rearranged but the language is the same and the desperation to be heard above the rest gives the enemy the upper hand.

Perhaps that’s why New York Magazine settled on a very unsettling offering. I imagine the editors scuttled in the “room of thought,” as they exercised whether or not to go with it. The photos are menacingly appropriate. The tweets are perfectly aligned with the themes of “president” “and “ass”.

Did you — the internet — green-light a piece about Trump’s well-rounded derriere? Did you convince this pub that it would be sufficient enough to divert us from the fact that we are on the brink of extinction — thanks to the “orders” that are sifting in without pause?

How can it be possible — that as we battle the virus of a bat shit crazy leader who will surely be impeached to make way for the devil incarnate — we still have the energy and initiative to joke about the fucking ass of a man who allegedly man-handled that same body part — attached to women who didn’t want those “small hands” erratically harassing them.

New York Magazine tried in vain to be hilariously innovative — but what sucks is that it wasn’t funny or even remotely acceptable.

We are in a crisis. And the only one who gets that is Donald Trump. He has been the most consistent figure throughout this unbelievable process. He has never wavered in his delivery. He was a fuck up from the beginning — and he remains so.

The media, however backslides, zig zags and crashes into a concave of deceit — that merely exposes vulnerability and astute stupidity that manifests each time we choose body parts to rate — based on the scary brilliance of the web.

The internet always wins and that’s why the media consistently fails.

America is dying. I wrote about it not so long ago. And trust me, it’s not funny.