A Coup d’état of the Ballot Box

By David Glenn Cox

Maybe you haven’t noticed but the Cheeto likes to brag. Science has a name for it, but it eludes me. It is a term for stupid people who think they are smart. I had a boss like that once. He wasn’t really my boss he was the owner’s son and hence my boss. We’ll call him Larry because he is still alive and might have learned to read. We had come in on a Saturday morning to do inventory. We were standing on the loading dock when Larry appeared, “What’s going on here? Do you need something to do? Grab a clip board and pair off.” Larry then proceeded to explain how inventory counts work to veteran employees and then asked the question he should have asked first. “What’s the hold up?” The power is out we replied.

Because he knew nothing and knew he knew nothing he overcompensated by pretending to know everything. Immediately under Larry was the warehouse manager he did all the work making Larry’s position largely ceremonial. Larry’s office looked like the return department from a sporting goods store fishing rods, mounted and stuffed fish with the obligatory golf bag in the corner. A college placard from his alma mater the hardest two semesters of his life until he flunked out. Larry liked to complain about money. A guy in a half-million-dollar house with five cars wants to cry the blues about his misfortunes to employees making a dollar an hour over minimum wage.

Inverted bragging, “Yeah, I had to drive down to the gulf and check on my boat! Friday afternoon I was in the Bahamas when my alternator quit. Oh man did that suck!” Don’t you wish you had such problems? He was trying to fit in to a world. He was trying to be Joe Six Pack but had no everyday problems to share. By trying to appear normal he looked like Boy George at a Trump rally. Larry was not maniacal his general laziness precluded the hard work of plots and schemes that would require him to be in the office five days a week. Only in an office emergency did Larry become energetic. At the one point in time, when Larry really didn’t need to be General Larry, he was General Larry.

He was one of the most fraudulent people I ever knew. Daddy had groomed him for get out of the way. He was in a polygamous relationship with his boat and a woman who lived in his house. His son was given a million dollars on the day of his birth. He had no purpose and no direction, and his goal was Friday. “I didn’t have the money to go to the gulf this weekend, but my wife gave me $200!” The cynical thought occurred to me, maybe if your wife is willing to give you money to leave town you should try coming home early if you like surprises. Larry was one of the most fraudulent people I have known until the Cheeto. Almost sounds like a Kung Fu movie doesn’t it, “Enter the Cheeto.”

The Cheeto is Larry on steroids as both were psychologically damaged. Larry knew his Daddy had put him in charge of nothing at the companies’ smallest warehouse. A vote of confidence with a kick in the nuts. Larry wasn’t a liar as much as an embellisher. There was always some small seed of truth buried somewhere in the pomegranate of his story of personal rebellion that started with, “And then I told that cop!” And ended with taking the ticket and rolling up his window. But I could see how lying could become a habit, if by correcting the boss you could damage your employment. I guess that is where that line is painted on the pavement, Sane: this side – Not Sane: other side. If you genuinely think that people believe the lies you tell…you’re not well. You belong on the other side of the line.

Now the Cheeto is like a helium balloon in a window fan he goes where the breeze takes him. He’s not tied down with traditional definitions of the truth. The orange one has threatened or has pursued legal action against the entire world. It is his fallback, “You’ll hear from my lawyer.” Arrogant big mouth bluster meant to hide his inability to come up with a cogent argument. I suspect after Trump’s electoral defeat in November he will begin the paperwork to sue every voter who voted against him for voter fraud for not voting for him.

As the kite drifts higher, it no longer responds to the tug of the string. Stimulus negotiations were stymied by the White House positions pushing for a new FBI headquarters across the street from the Trump Hotel and over a quarter of a billion dollars for the first lady to remodel the White House with stripper poles and thumping techno music sound system. Positions the White House was told before the opening bell Republicans wouldn’t support.

There was a time in this country when Trump would make one little faux pax and we would all lose our minds. How far we’ve come from children in cages to kidnappings by secret police. Trumpy declared yesterday that the pandemic had reached a new phase and was receding while thirty states posted rising numbers of cases and deaths. “Okay, everyone back to work. Open the schools. Didn’t you hear me? I said, it’s all over.” Does anyone at this point believe his lies and more to the point does he believe his own lies? Will Trump leave the White House after the coming electoral wipe out? Of course, he will he’s the big mouth bully. “Oh yeah, you wait and see, I’ll sue!” Then he will leave without a word certain we’ve all failed him.

Losing is his strong suit; he’s lost fortunes and airlines and Universities. He’s lost casinos and buildings making wives disappear faster than David Copperfield. He’s a coward and losing is his specialty. If he doesn’t lose, he can’t begin his new reality fantasy as the poor put upon victim of the Deep State. Ousted by a Coup d’état of the ballot box and the November criminals.

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