Judging by the gusto with which Donald Trump keeps sticking it up those elements of the media he deems insufficiently respectful of his anthropoid antics, he clearly thinks he’s being clever.
But, as all but he and the most cretinous of his supporters are aware, the more stridently he strives to smear true and accurate reporting as ‘fake news,’ and its most honest and earnest disseminaters as ‘enemies of the people,’ the more vividly he reveals himself as the enema of the people.
In other words, he’s the sorely-needed purgative for not only a Republican Party so crappy as to have no better candidate for the presidency, but for a United States where sufficient people are so totally full of shit as to either vote for such an idiot or to fail to vote for anybody whatever.
Or, to make this point a little less scatologically, he’s living proof of the prediction by the great H. L. Mencken that ‘on some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.’
Nothing that Trump says or does makes sense. As instanced, for example, by his ban on entry visas on alleged ‘security’ grounds for people from seven Muslim-majority countries, not including Saudi Arabia, of which most of the 911 terrorists were citizens, and also not including Pakistan, the country whose secret police harboured Osama Bin Laden while George W. Bush was busy hunting him in Afghanistan.
And then there’s his suspiciously cozy relationship with Vladimir Putin, whose comprehensively corrupt and outright criminal Russian regime is strongly suspected of colluding with Trump underlings in under-handed efforts to swing the presidential election their boss’s way.
When these dirty deeds are revealed in their full, disgusting detail by the very media that Trump is so desperate to denigrate as ‘enemies of the people’, I suspect that even the man’s most avid ass-lickers will see him for the enema of the people that he undoubtedly is, and that the con he calls ‘conservatism’ will end up in the toilet where it rightly belongs.
But meanwhile, in the time it takes to finally give the man the finger, whether painfully proctologically by means of impeachment for one of his outrages, or at the earliest possible electoral opportunity, no doubt he’ll continue his campaign of verbal and virtual diarrhoea until the stench of so many stinking lies finally gets too unbearable for words.