“Mugged again,” seethes Old McDon-Old, “by liberals furious at Biden being stamped the world’s worst LOSER”
More befuddled now than even after Biden cleaned his clock in 2020, has-been TV showman, faltering campaigner and serial felon is convinced that thieving nasties who stole his presidency are at it again. In a private phone call before the bizarre Mar-a-lago press conference, Trump whined to his only friend, J.D. Vance, that demon Dems are fomenting the perfect storm against his fated, divinely-promised victory. “I can’t tell for sure who’s in charge, whether Nasty Nancy or Baffled Biden, even cowardly foe John McCain back from the dead. Hell, could be that turncoat, Hannibal Lecter, pissed because for some reason I can’t invite him to dinner.”
“By the way,” Trump mouthed, “what pathetic boob scheduled our party’s Convention before the dastardly Dems? Fire that nincompoop, ignorant that timing is everything. Everyone knows that spineless, really old Biden quit only to mess me up – and now the weakling loser is having BIG qualms about crowning Krazy Ka-MA-la. Hell, I’d threaten to quit if it upped my martyrdom, then we could have a huge MAGA come back.”
One insider conceded the irate Trump is beside himself as his fleeting frontrunner status evaporates, “That started with the stunning poleaxe of Biden’s departure, weird that it blindsided him. All Trump did was mumble, ‘Yeah, I was beating Biden bad but I didn’t think he had the guts to quit.’” The insider was perplexed why Trumpsters were ambushed by Kamala Harris’s explosion out of the gate, whether from insularity or blind stupidity. Trump’s typical tweet said it all for him: “a coup funded by her Jewish husband’s cabal in league with Hollywood. Real Jews know how pure I am, even when forced to praise anti-Semites.”
How dare “they” dump “the only patsy I could beat”!
Clearly, Harris’ expansive polling spurt exposed just how many millions rushed to this escape hatch, resolving their utter disgust with Trump, but doubtful Biden could last another four years. On cue, Trump complains he’s again the victim, that for three years he totally banked on battling a crippled, over-the-hill patsy (“guy can’t walk or talk straight – let alone gulp down five Big Macs in one sitting, like yours truly”). “They gave us Biden, now they force Harris on us,” he whined at the press conference, as if terrified Dems weren’t for months stuck with an antique. Ditto from the forever gobsmacked JD Vance, “what a corrupt switcheroo by Dem puppet masters long after it being seemly or Constitutional. What a desperate rebuff to party regulars who never got to vote for Harris the conniver.”
Unhappily, Trump conceded that Harris being a woman is a temporary positive, but off the record quipped, “Honestly, no mere breeder should be president. They can’t compete in strength, brains or belligerence like a manly man like me, keeping in shape by yelling at the TV. America would have to be really desperate to elect a mixed breed menstruater, however better looking than Hillary, though less smart. No long-haired SF liberal can ever beat out that gang of fire-breathing, take-no-prisoner strongmen trashing wimpy E.U. leaders.”
Observers say that anti-women bias blocked Trumpers from seeing Harris as anything but a joke. From a baffled insider, “Dems had all these stronger, more popular governors from key states, instead they settle for an unpopular, do-nothing VP who let criminal Mexican rapists invade our borders? That’s crazy by MAGA opportunism. So we lose Biden the easy mark, replaced by a laughing, colored woman with foreign parents?”
Pontification trumps perspiration
From another refreshingly honest adviser, “Why does Trump play more golf than go campaigning? Because, swollen with faux overconfidence, he won’t sweat the small stuff and drag his old bones to the back boonies? Trump’s waiting in the wings, a summer break before the Harris-boosting Democratic Convention, active Dem barnstorming drawing big crowds, a savvy VP pick (making Vance ever weirder) – and capped with September’s 34 felony sentencing. Look, he’s never been a hard worker – and so he’s waiting for boisterous arm waving to end before staging more scary apocalyptic revelations.”
On point, this explanation rings true. Trump typically responds to ill-tidings by simply banishing them as fake news, figuring his oily charm can forever bullshit away bad vibes. “Keep the Propaganda Simple, Stupid” remains the Trump mantra – reinforced by vetted enablers (but not one even touching Project 2025, so he intones). Trump’s press appearance this week was more incoherent and rambling than ever, making him look angry and overconfident that his “perfect” memory is unimpaired (think helicopters). Trump acts as if what worked years ago against Hilary will swamp this latest, uppity woman with the raucous laugh.
In the meantime, shrunken rally numbers and suspect polls plague him, and so he fingers his phone list until wholly neutral folks like Stephen Miller buoy him up. He rushes around until some friendly troll convinces him that time takes no toll on truly stable geniuses. After all, would he have risen so high had he not deserved and merited unstoppable success? And since coded racism, sexism, ageism, and misogyny have never gone out of style, expect more of the same when feeling besieged: “I alone can fix everything, even re-election tests. I am smarter than all the generals, all the scientists, all the judges and all the supposed political pros. And despite incredibly punitive legal bills, I am still very rich – or able to suck millions from my backers who swallow my grievances.”
In the end, “they” are out to get him
All the while, Harris, a remarkably agile, optimistic, future-oriented campaigner keeps declaring, “We’re not going back.” But Trump only knows his old favorites, trying to scare folks to death with doom and gloom, then magically shifting from past to his notion of “forward” – though MAGA “forward” spells looking backward. Trump is stuck corrupting the future by glorifying the mythic Yankee past – when white, male, Anglo-Saxon leaders made America great. Is that not the ultimate known known, however its emotional impact recedes by the day, dissolved by lying, word-salad confusions.
Since the eventual future for old folks (including his aging base) is down hill, what choice is there for a fantasist but golden nostalgia, as if dishing out MAGA memory chips at the casino of life? However under siege, and losing centrists by the truckload, nothing changes Trump’s ultimate truism, that politics is a made-up charade for fools designed to entertain, sans principles, truth or knowledge. Politics simply extends his old career on steroids, whether real estate, steaks or casinos. Old McDon-Old is stuck pitching the suckers, distracting their focus, and lifting wallets with gold-veneer sneakers.
The big Trump lottery depends wholly on fine-tuning the art of victimhood, and that looks both increasingly likely – and unsuccessful – over the next three months. Life is again reduced to painful twists from an unjust universe that will get you if you don’t get it first. So Trump continues to manufacture his own fantasies, like the whopper Biden didn’t really mean to withdraw and plans a Convention floor fight to regain his nomination.
That matches the second greatest fantasy from Trump, that a national abortion ban no longer makes any campaign difference. Whatever, in the end expect to hear his eternal cry, “I told you so. They are out to get me.” And thanks to his own blundering myopia, plus decidedly shifting electoral demographics in the key states, he is not wrong. Lots of us end up saying, “we told you so.” The world has shifted and Trump is clueless and getting older by the day.
COMMENTS