It’s Not Trump’s State of the Union
Tonight is Trump’s first address to a joint session of Congress. This is a very long title for what is essentially a State of the Union but they aren’t calling it a State of the Union because traditionally those only happen after the President has been in office for a year.
CNN says another important difference is that during a State of the Union address, the President spends some of the time looking back at what his administration has accomplished. Tonight, though, it looks like Trump will be talking mostly about his plans for his administration going forward.
So, essentially, it’s a campaign rally. An attendance-mandatory campaign rally given in one of our country’s most hallowed spaces. Because the only thing that Trump knows how to do is give campaign rallies.
I am dreading this speech. Dreading. Trump rarely sticks completely to his teleprompter. He goes off on tangents, repeats things needlessly and I feel like hearing the words “big league” spoken in the congressional chamber will feel about as gross as stepping in fresh warm cat barf while barefoot.
Mostly I’m dreading this speech because I still have vivid memories of the gleeful horror fest that was his RNC acceptance speech. That was the first time in my life someone speaking on television made me feel so horrified and scared and disgusted that I started bawling. I remember feeling literally afraid for my life. And it is not an experience I’m super excited to have again.
I’m also not jazzed about the possibility of having a repeat of last week’s tantrum over how mean the “fake news” is being. During what is supposed to be a press conference is one thing. He can be interrupted and distracted there. In a State of…er, I mean, in an Address to a Joint Session of Congress, the President isn’t interrupted. He doesn’t take questions. He gets up and he speaks and he can speak for as long as he wants with an audience that is (unofficially of course) forced to listen. And sometimes to give standing ovations.
Maybe all this worrying will be for nothing. Maybe everything will be fine. Maybe our President won’t fly off the handle and declare war on another country because he has decided on the spur of the moment that every reporter is secretly an Iranian secret agent sent to sabotage his efforts to blow up the moon — an idea he just had because y’know, if the moon controls the tides and there’s no moon, the water levels can’t change, right?
I’m just kidding. We all know Trump thinks the moon is made of cheese and tides are really just the result of a bunch of people jumping into the ocean on the other side of the world.
Wait. That’s even scarier.
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