By David Glenn Cox
Oh, come on man, you gotta be putting on. It strains the bounds of credulity, but this is what we’ve learned so far. The President takes off on these flights of fantasy and then the narrative sets up like concrete and then there you are, outrageous, sophomoric, idiotic and obviously insane. Is it live or is it Memorex? Cue the James Bond theme music, “OO7, this is a very important secret mission don’t cock it up.”
“You’re to go to Washington and play the role of an injury victim. You are to pretend to be a seventy-six-year-old an anti-nuclear protester. A religious type appearing to be apparently harmless.”
Am I going undercover to expose an international plot? Is Specter attempting to take over the world again sir?
“No, OO7 your job is to make the President of the United States look bad. Heartless and uncaring.”
Do we really need a secret agent for that sir? Couldn’t we send one of the junior agents?
“This is a vital mission OO7. M is going to implant a special blood cartridge in your ear. You are to stand harmlessly on the street and when the police arrive…”
I spray them with nerve gas from the ballpoint pen in my pocket.
I beat them up with my incredible martial arts skills.
“No! you’re to fall down and hit your head on the concrete and look pathetic.”
Are there any beautiful women on this mission sir?
“None that haven’t already been touched by ten-foot poles. M has been working on a full body condom, but I would advise against it.”
But why Q? This is insane?
“Yes, OO7 it is insane. But we are living inside of Donald Trump’s brain which means it’s a brilliant idea! We don’t need to think in terms of sane and insane here we like to call them failed reality situations. You know that passive aggressive stuff like building a fence because you’re a tough guy kind of thing.”
But it won’t work Q the people aren’t that stupid!
“Trump supporters are, they believe he’s a Christian, don’t they? They will believe anything!”
Fade to black.
It is almost like Mad libs, ___________________ is actually a secret agent for Antifa. Their goal is to destroy _______________________ to make me look bad. They hate me because I am ____________________________.
In the face of Black Lives Matter. In the wake of the police murder of George Floyd. In the aftermath of worldwide condemnation of Police brutality this is what the President cooks up in that little one burner stove he calls a mind. “He’s got a scanner in his hand he’s trying to hack the police radio codes!”
It makes you wonder about the events taking place in the situation room. The real one, not the one with Wolf Blitzer. “That is a remarkably interesting idea Mr. President. I suppose he could be an Antifa Secret agent.”
Coming up with National Enquirer caliber conspiracy stories is harder than it looks. Try it some time, windmills cause cancer or Covid 19 is a hoax. Is he brilliant pretending to be insane or insane pretending to be brilliant? Well…the jury is in on that one. But what sort of brain concocts such nonsense? There has to be a study done to research such phenomenon. A non-stop instant bullshit machine has to be investigated for future generations. “Really Daddy? The President of the United States would say shit like that?”
You know the country is in safe hands when the President of the United States tweets 200 times in a twenty-four hours. He’s got everything so under control you’d never guess hundreds of thousands of people have taken to the streets in protest. So, under control he has time to lash out at every minor slight sent his way. Yet so busy, he couldn’t say the name George Floyd on the day they buried him. The reason is obvious, isn’t it? We all know who the true victim of racial injustice is here. It’s so unfair…they hate me because I’m orange. They hate me because I’m so brilliant. They hate me because all the men want to be me, and all the women want to make love with me.
The orange one calls his allies on Capitol Hill, but everyone seems to be out of their offices and won’t return his calls. The call picks up, “I’m sorry but I can’t take your call right now please leave a message,” followed by muffled laughter. The Pentagon is flying the Jolly Roger and refuses the orange one’s request to take a nuclear submarine to Mira Lago so that he can golf in secret. The polls tell a story of a puffer fish President who puffs himself up but when captured is surprisingly small and toxic. The situation being what it is the only answer is to find new polls and new pollsters. Rumors circulated that the orange one was ready to fire Defense Secretary Mark Esper over his failure to use active duty military against the American public.
Rumors, ha! If he fired Esper, the next Secretary of Defense would be Corporal Buddy Hankins from Jackson, Mississippi. “But sir, I don’t want to be defense secretary. My enlistment is up in six months!”
Nonsense Haskell, you are going to make a great defense secretary! Have you looked at my ideas for an airstrike on CNN? How long would it take a nuclear submarine to get to Mira Lago from Washington?
All alone in that big empty room he calls a mind. Clueless and delusional he wanders the halls of the big white cage and dreams of the days when he could swing on his tire swing without the bars surrounding him. Before Antifa and the media drew a bead on him making him their target. The best orange minds of my generation! They hate me because I’m orange.