Donald Trump vs. Gail Collins: A couple of important lessons about “The Donald”

I read this piece with interest, mainly because it demonstrates the craven nature of this man, and more. Gail Collins has been writing about DT for years, and she seems to have gotten under his especially thin skin. DT’s response reminds me of a child’s—”Yeah? You don’t like me? Well, you’re ugly.” He brags about his “many bestsellers,” Art of the Deal and etc., but that’s just eyewash. He’s selling himself like any other well-dressed whore.

But if we’re going to vilify him, let’s be specific. He carps about Collins’ perceived lack of style, but look at DT’s own: not only does Collins call him out for a previous misspelling, we can see several other examples of high-school level grammar mistakes (“me….who has written,” etc.). Now, I don’t intend ever to read any of DT’s books, but if I did it would have to be with a pen in my right hand for annotation purposes, also because I’d have to repeatedly stab myself in the leg rather than fall asleep over the turgid, me-monkey nature of his prose.

Speaking of his me-monkey attitude, this is of course one of the first things we notice about the man and yet some people forgive him for it. “You can’t argue with success, right?”

Wrong.

Look: politicians have to be self-motivated and confident in themselves, or there is no way they’d ever be elected to anything. There are no wallflowers in Washington, folks. But Trump takes self-involvement to a depth one very rarely sees. Seriously, if he were to take the White House he’d have his name in flashing lights on the roof by inauguration night, and that would only be the beginning. Imagine someone with a desire for revenge equalled only by Sarah Palin and Richard Nixon actually having the power (if not the authority) to, say, wiretap Gail Collins, or you, or me. We can see how determined he is on the birther issue; now, imagine if you dare this decadent, porously corrupt egomaniac picking up the phone and saying, “I want these people hacked, wiretapped, I want dirt on ’em.” Because he would. That would be his Job One, not unemployment, not the economy, not health-care reform, nothing that matters to you and me. Because he’s Donald goddamn Trump and he’s richer than us.

Can you imagine anything more cartoonishly frightening? Look, we had eight years of Dubya, the unelected President. Wasn’t that enough cartoon time for America?

I have to admit to a certain jealousy, though. Gail Collins gets hate mail from DT himself. That would be cool. I would love for him to know the level of my contempt for him, that I could spit dead in his face if given just one chance, that he should be shunned both in public and in private, that I wish him absolutely nothing at all. I curse his every dollar. I hope his wealth wounds him every day. For all that, I still look forward to the Republican debates, don’t you? It’s going to be marvelous theater if everybody stays in long enough. Between Palin’s word salad, Huckabee’s homespun evangelism of doom, Santorum’s Tea-Party shitstains still on his face, and DT still yelling about Obama’s birth certificate and telling the rest of the candidates they’re fired, it should be entertaining. Sort of like a horror movie.

Advertisements

About johnwylam1957

I'm a poet and teacher now living in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.
This entry was posted in Culture/Politics. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s