This Carbon Based Life

By David Glenn Cox

The king apparently fired Pam Bondi for her inability to obtain a conviction of the king’s enemies. It has a real Stalinist flavor to it. “You go out there and prosecute my enemies to the ends of the earth, or it’s curtains for you too! Or you’ll be mining coal in the Urals. Do or die! With your shield or on your shield. I have this theory that Donald Trump shows signs of having multiple personalities. It’s not because Mr. Trump behaves in a curious manner from time to time which disturbs me.

It’s that Mr. Trump behaves in multiple curious ways, almost as if they are different people entirely. When Mr. Trump talks out of his ass and says things which aren’t true and don’t make sense. I see a small, abused child telling tall tales, trying to impress the adults in a broken, juvenile way. When Trump fired Bondi, it was calculated and mean. Bondi was out of a job and was going into private practice. Even if she didn’t know about it yet. This is the mean, vindictive Trump. Trump, the angry teenage girl. No government sop job for Bondi. Yer out on yer ass! Hit the bricks!

Her prosecution of former FBI Director James Comey had failed. Get out! Bondi had no case to begin with. Frail and manufactured, the case just sort of failed to stand up for itself. Everyone knew the whole effort was political vengeance. So when the case died, no one was really surprised. Bondi had tried. But to the king, that excuse just wasn’t good enough. Trump angrily fired Bondi for not pulling a rabbit out of a hat.  

Now, acting Attorney General of the United States, Todd Blanche, will take a case into an American Courtroom. Alleging seashells placed on a beach into the shape of the numbers of 86 and 47 constitute a viable death threat against the life of a sitting American President. Not only the seashells themselves but just the photographic images of the sea shells constitute a threat. It’s not insane like “Catch 22/” It’s insane like the Flintstones on acid.

Where is the implied threat? 86? Someone, somewhere. Some unknown character harbors a dark evil project to 86 47. Where’s the threat? In this country, I have a constitutional right to arrange seashells on a beach in any numbers I want. Even 86 47. I could even put an exclamation point behind it if I wanted.

Poor Todd, long nights of study in law school working himself up to the highest legal officialdom in the United States readying your big-time case of “The People of the United States Vs. The guy arranging seashells on a beach.” This is the courtroom through the looking glass. You saw it! Those shells spelled 86 47, now convict him, or you’re fired too!

An angry teenage Karen out on a punitive vendetta. We’re going all the way back to the first Trump administration, Eight years ago. The President of the United States is so petty and punitive; he seeks vengeance almost a decade later over an event no one remembers but himself and Comey. I tell you, it’s like dealing with different people.

The warlord Trump personality is a part of the brash, billionaire, know it all Apprentice star personality. He knows everything. “You’re Fired!” The Trump can do no wrong personality. When Mr. Trump calls reporters or their questions stupid. Trump projects the damaged child persona, meting out to the reporters what was meted out to young Donald. Wanna hear Fred Trump talk? Listen to Donald.

“Mama, can I play football with the kids in the park?” No, you’re too weak, you’ll get hurt. Dad! I made the baseball team in college!” Yeah, and you hit 2.18 and sat on the bench most of the time. So of course now that most of the witnesses are dead and gone, he was Joe DiMaggio tearing up the base path.

He says he’s the smartest genius of all the smartest geniuses. Because? Why class? Mr. Trump has an inferiority complex the size of Montana. It looks like young Donald was reared with tough love with too much emphasis on tough. The poor kid was probably ten before he discovered “stupid” wasn’t a part of his last name. Fred Trump wanted to make his little boy into a rough and tumble, hard-nosed New York real estate mogul. But clearly, somehow the plan went wrong like “Full Metal Jacket.” Section 8,  Young Donald didn’t get tough, he got weird.

You know how it is when they ship you off to military school. Mommy and Daddy love you so much, we think you should join the army at twelve and live far apart from us. It’s a heart-warming story of rich, uncaring parents dumping their addled kid in an upscale 24-hour military daycare. But why military school? Was there a discipline problem, or was young Donald suffering from DAALP syndrome. Formerly known as Dumb as a Lamp Post disease. Maybe the Trump’s shipped him off, maybe to wise young Donald up. I’ve never heard Donald mention his old military school days. He must not have liked them  much. He didn’t want to join the army and be Rambo. Instead, Fred lined him up with a crooked doctor.

You see, I think Fred thought young Donald could get himself killed peeling potatoes in the PX. Who knows? Donald might have wanted to enlist, but Fred said, “No.” You’ll shoot your eye out kid. You’re too weak and too stupid..

The broken child and the brash billionaire, the angry teenage girl, and there’s no telling how many more are living in the crevasses and off-grid inside of Donald Trump’s mind. The lonely, ignored child who craves attention in any way possible. The little girl seeking her revenge. How does Mr. Trump deal with his intellectual shortcomings and feelings of inferiority. He tells lies. It’s never his fault. He didn’t do it. It was broken when he got there.

“Satire is tragedy plus time. You give it enough time, the public, the reviewers will allow you to satirize it. Which is rather ridiculous, when you think about it.”  ― Lenny Bruce