By David Glenn Cox
My mother had a standing policy set in stone. If I was sick and wanted to stay home from school or be medevac’d to Walter Reed Army Hospital, I had to promise to stay in bed and behave. The first time she saw me up tweeting or going for rides to wave at my fans it was straight back to school. So, which is it? Doctor’s Moe, Larry & Shemp say everything is fine “The droids you’re looking for aren’t here.” Meanwhile treating the illness with a high-powered cocktail reserved for the chronically ill at death’s door.
But now it’s three o’clock and Trumpy’s got that old three o’clock revival. “I’m feeling a lot better! See, not a smidge of temperature.” Trumpy feels the drugs take hold and thinks he has got this whooped. “What are we going to the hospital for? I feel great! Put on some Grateful Dead!” Mr. Trump was asked the secret of his quick turn around and said that it was because he was superior to most humans and he didn’t see what all these people were dying about. “Don’t let it run your life” into the ground. If you feel sick, get in your helicopter and fly to the hospital and ask for Doctor Robert.
The Orange occupant is taking a strong regime of a steroid based drug as in, his temper could get worse and dick could get smaller. Side effects include anxiety, paranoia, and aggression, but let us remember the base line we are working from. We were somewhere near Bethesda when the drugs took hold. I guess the first hint for me was when Curious Trumpy goes for a ride! I mean, who does that? Who’s ever heard of someone in the hospital doing that? “I know, let’s go infect people! I want to go for a ride!” The side effects tend to be more pronounced in older people. So, if you see grandpa climbing the stairs impersonating Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard, don’t be alarmed.
I cynically wondered about the condition of the First Spouse. Was her condition so dire they removed Trumpy for her benefit? Twenty-four hours a day locked into quarters with the orange impossible and a serious illness. Hopped up on roids playing “Hey, I got an idea!”
Instead sequestered in the Hanoi Hilton President Mitte plans his triumphant return with the aide of his pharmacological friends. As the Marine One helicopter circles to land at the White House a wing of fighter jets streak past overhead emitting red, white and blue smoke trails. As the rotor blades slow and Trumpy emerges to the sixty-piece Marine Band playing “Hail to the Chief” in his mind. Imaginary Calvary soldiers lift their sabers as he walks by. As he reaches the stairs the band breaks into “Nearer my God to thee” and Abe Lincoln removes his hat.
“We’ll be right back with more of “Donny has a Delusion” after these words from Preparation-H!”
He’s reaching the bank of flags and accepting his noble Peace Prize. He waves his hand and opens the Berlin Olympic Games snubbing Jesse Owens. The fifty thousand crowd the plaza cheering as El Duce promises to revive the Roman Empire. “Make Rome Great Again!” Wall off Abyssinia! Don’t worry Bandit; Smokey won’t catch him. He’ll deliver the beer from Texas! “I’m ready for my close-up Mister Deville.”
Would anyone like to guess who is in charge of this fiasco? The White House? The Campaign? The Doctor who signed off on Trumpy going for a ride? Or Dr. No, who knows nothing and says less. This was all Trumpy, he’s wrapped tight and tied loose. A CNN poll said 60% of Americans disapproved of Trump’s handling of the pandemic. The counter puncher showed them all last night he’s not just sick, he’s delusional.
With cheap soap-opera theatrics, he takes off his mask. Done, done, da, done! He’s Lex Luther Super Villain! He’s Superman copping a feel off Lois Lane. No matter what he says, he still doesn’t get it. Wearing a mask is for the protection of others. The orange occupant contagious carrying a potentially fatal disease tells the White House staff, “Deal with it! I’m not gonna wear a mask and you can’t make me!” the White House staff however has largely gone to quarantine after spokesmodel Barbie tested positive and likewise Trump’s campaign chairman. That leaves Trumpy in charge; you see what we get?
I don’t think I have ever seen anything quite so creepy as Trumpy’s deranged performance like watching a sleepwalker in a different reality. Misunderstanding all you see holding a bathroom plunger leading the charge of the Light Brigade. “Mon Capitan, Napoleon will review the troops now.” Most of us have picked up a few facts about the pandemic and first among these facts is that no one gets better in three days, superior genes or not. Mr. Trump has run the first mile of a marathon and says, “this is easy!”
The most poignant moment of the debate came when Joe Biden defended his son’s drug problem. Trump’s attack backfired. Millions of American parents also have children with drug problems, and Biden showed he was a human being like everyone else. Trump’s reality theater is designed to show the opposite, he’s better than you. He doesn’t need to follow rules, he’s always first in line and he doesn’t get sick. If you wish hard enough the pandemic will all go away. Delusional – worried about an election while flipping off karma.