A Punch-Drunk Ass Soberly Assessed
An excerpt from my new book, First We Destroy the GOP: Restoring America with Determination, Love, and Compassion.
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IN MY FACEBOOK POSTINGS, I refer quite often to Donald “Nasty Motherfucker” Trump as Scrotus McShitGibbon. In this book, let me settle on “Trump.” It’s easier and less distracting.
As I focus upon the quivering mass of assholery known as Trump, never forget nor forgive that the GOP allowed him to win its Presidential primary, and that it is responsible—as the first of our failed gatekeepers—for thrusting this broken nightmare of a human being upon us.
Moreover, the GOP continues to do nothing to stop him, though they could easily impeach and remove him today. The few Republican Congress critters having anything unflattering to say about him are those who have left politics or are about to. McCain and Flake are two examples. Yet these mutely outspoken Republicans continue to vote straight party line on every blasted bill that comes before them. Stop that now. Be heroes. Switch your party affiliation to Independent or Democratic while you’re still in Congress. And put your vote where your so-far-only-lip-service is.
Other entities deserve blame, but never let the GOP distance itself from this insane bloviater, this horrendous divider, this instinctively fascistic authoritarian, this malignant narcissist.
They’ll try to.
Do not let them.
From the moment he slithered into office, Trump has been routinely ass-kissed by every goddamned Republican. And why? So that the GOP could carry out the destruction of all that’s promising and wonderful in American culture and society. And so that they and their Obama-hating racist wonder-boy Trump could undo every last thing our first black President managed to do.
It has been my great good fortune, over many decades, never to have wasted a single moment of my time watching Trump on television, never spending an instant with his ugly self on my mind.
Now, alas, we’re reminded daily of this massively malignant mistake of nature, this Trump, he who projectile-vomits a steady stream of bile from his uncensored id, filling the air waves with essence of hatred, fear, and rage to rouse and validate those same divisive feelings in the body politic.
Let me count the ways Trump is an unacceptable piece of shit, a bumbling fool, and the most dangerous man to walk the planet in this perilous moment in our history.
Now in my first draft of this chapter, I unreeled page after page of fuck-full invective, name calling, and ill wishes. But today, as I’d begun to work on those many pages, I’ve decided to skip all of that.
For one thing, Trump is a magnet for much deserved spite, scorn, and revulsion. It is therefore the easiest thing in the world to reflect all of his inhumanity back upon him.
And he deserves that and more.
Trump is a nothing, a nullity.
He’s a quivering, cowering bully, compensating for the depths of insecurity inside.
He’s a malignant narcissist, a pathological liar, a fascist, a racist, a white supremacist, a xenophobe, a homophobe, a misogynist, a failure, a know-nothing, a fuck-up in every way, and a would-be tyrant.
He’s an affront to all things holy, a swaggering insult. If belligerence had a punchable face, a face no mother nor father could love, it would be his face.
He works every day toward a fascist dictatorship and encounters from his party—that would be the goddamn, motherfucking Republican Party I’m talking about—no resistance at all. And when such resistance occurs, it’s token, it’s lip service, and it poses no obstacle to him.
Privately, it’s said, many Republicans in Congress understand and voice the full extent of Trump’s ineptitude and madness. He’s a lunatic, they say. But he’s our lunatic.
And here’s the focus we should never lose sight of.
Trump—as horrendous and unacceptable as any human being can be—is a bright, shiny distraction from Republican crimes happening “over there” where the media outlets, the ones not devoted to pumping out fascist propaganda, temporarily stop looking.
Every damned day, often several times a day, Trump draws media attention to himself with his unacceptable and outrageous ways of talking, moving, sniffing, sneering, and being.
He becomes the intense focus of our disgust.
As such, the hostile enemy within, the GOP, continues to devastate our nation as Trump draws each news cycle his way, a Pied Piper beguiling a moth-to-flame media deliriously in love with sensation over substance.
He believes himself the center of the universe.
You know, in some sense, Trump must be the loneliest man in the world. He thrives on attention from whom? From video-game images of other people, whom he viciously discounts.
So there you have him.
Trump the Graceless, the Powerless, the Unacceptable, the Squatter, the Piece of Shit, the Con Artist, the President of Nothing at all.
He’s a zero, a nothing, a nullity, a bloviating jellyfish, a quivering bullyboy. I urge all Americans and all sentient human beings on our threatened planet to treat him as such, even those unfortunate souls who’ve chosen to come into contact with him daily.
Talk back to him always. Defy him. Flip him the bird. Shake a fist at him. Slap his fucking face. Short-sheet his bed. Accept none of his insults, his belch-ups of bile.
Throw those insults back at him, deep to the lungs.
Shut him up.
Lock him away.
Impeach and remove him.
Prosecute him for his endless list of crimes and misdemeanors.
And I implore you, remove his image and his mewling voice from all forms of media. I never want to see that ugly puss, suffer his ridiculous hand gestures, cringe at his word salads, his bile, his nasty outpourings of hate and fear and anger and inhumanity writ large.
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