“When I Did It”

Falling through the universe atr the speed of life

Two years, thousands of hours millions of dollars with a bank of lawyers staying at the Hilton. Robert Mueller pours over the texts until late into the night. Congressional Committees investigators and intelligence operatives all trying to catch the fox when the answer was so simple, just call him on the phone an ask. Like luring a child with candy Bob Woodward invites Trump into the back seat of the car.

Twas vanity what killed the beast. Trumpy wanted to speak with Robert Mueller because he honestly thought that they could make a deal. “Oh look, someone has carelessly left thousands of dollars on the coffee table. Be a pal and get rid of it for me while I’m out of the room.” The ham-handed cluelessness of it all covered over and prevented by Presidential aides. “What do you mean Federal Prosecutors don’t make deals?” Like a child told there is no Santa Claus he is incredulous. But this picture of cluelessness of a man going from room to room bumping into walls and tripping over things. Dr. Fauci says his attention span is a negative number.

We know, we watch, and we know. Like living in a bad Science Fiction film, Godzilla is headed for downtown and we are powerless to stop him. As we are all aware the President has a staff who claim they were unaware the President was talking to Bob Woodward. “And what do you do here at the White House?” I am the Chief of Staff. The President is on the phone with somebody confessing to crimes, and no one seems to know anything about it. Admittedly, the tenure of a Trump staffer is measured in weeks but come on. You should know this by lunchtime of the first day. Whenever Trump picks up the receiver a red-light ought to light up in somebody’s office. Better yet, disconnect the phone.

And just as casually as you would describe cutting up a chicken the President of the United States describes his role as an accessory to a murder. Not describes so much as brags about his role as an accessory to murder. “Oh hey, I know you didn’t ask, but boy oh boy, have we got some secret weapons systems I’m dying to tell you about.” Clearly Putin had his work cut out for him in Helsinki. Breaking Trump was going to take tens of minutes. “Tell me Mr. President the location of all your missile sites I want to add them all to my Facebook Friends list.”

The President tells his wife, “Guess who I’m talking to?” Her response is “Yeah yeah, give money.” This huge forty-foot-tall red flag screams, “Warning, danger Will Robinson!” and no one in the White House seems to care. Is the idiot self-isolated? Is it like the Fuhrer, does he call the subordinates into the office only to berate them and send them on their way? Or do they keep him locked away and isolated in the orange room in the basement of the White House swinging on his tire swing eating Big Macs watching Faux TV? Did Bill Buckner let the ball go between his legs or perhaps they read the tea leaves and see the future and seek to avoid the criminal contagion of contact? Not everyone gets to Argentina you know.

But the book is a horrific document, Profiles in Criminality. “When I Did It” by Bob Woodward and Donald Trump with forward by O.J. Simpson. Kim Jong un describes assassinating his uncle and Trump thinks, “What a guy!” Never before has a President voluntarily assisted the prosecution in gathering the case against him. I would bet you a dime against the fence around the White House that Donald Trump has never read a book by Bob Woodward and has no idea who Bob Woodward is. “Bob Woodward eh? He’s important, isn’t he? What does he do?” Insert negative number here Broderick Crawford in “Born Yesterday.” The hapless thug who can’t get away from his own thuggery and can’t think past the end of his shoes.

They cry out, “It’s Woodward’s fault! If it was so terrible why didn’t he tell someone!” Well, he did write a book about it didn’t he? Sucker Carlson declares Lindsey Graham to be at fault for introducing them. Presupposing the crime by judging the mixture. “You know what will happen! He’ll eat him for lunch!” Like blaming the cold for the Challenger accident hey look over there, he’s a witch! Faux News goes into zombie super crisis mode, “You’re watching Faux News everything is wonderful.”

We will soon reach 200,000 deaths a milestone on the road to the worst-case scenario. Trump is culpable beyond all measure, but the virus is not to be discounted. While its fun watching overweight Trump supporters picking lint from their navels. That doesn’t explain the dorm parties and packed bars around college campuses. The President and his “staff” can push to reopen schools, but I told my kids if they were of school age, they would be studying the Road Runner and Coyote cartoons this year. I would rather see them a year behind than a life behind especially when the life is mine. “Okay kid, your new vocabulary word for this week is patricide.”

 I would tell them about the Black Death and how uneducated peoples from the middle ages figured out how the virus was spread. “People in city die people in country live. Something in city killing people. What in city? People!” And they learned to stay the hell away from them without Presidential proclamations. While Darwin’s course is voluntary, please do the class work if you intend on staying for a final grade. Woodward’s book illustrates what we already know; Trumpy is a narcissistic madman but more than that the book illustrates that Trumpy’s staff is worse. No one is assigned to watch the idiot.

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