The Lion and the Unicorn
First he wanted Mexico to pay for the wall, now you’ll be charged for it, tip included. When I think of a wall, I think of the Roman emperor Hadrian, China or the Cold War in Berlin. Something sturdy, monumental and awe-inspiring. Compared to those, his is a real boner killer. Looking much more like an electric fence than something you’d need a cannon to get through, it’s indeed an architectural misfire. If you want to get your money’s worth however, you better invest into something made in China, since they obviously know how to keep people out of their business and their country. Fortunately, being outside won’t be a problem if you strike a good deal. In Croatia, they built a big bridge crossing over a canal on the Adriatic coast. But that’s the last thing to expect on the American border these days.
All the left-wing media in the US are full of dark premonitions of what happens if Trump wins the White House again. In Atlantic Magazine, there’s a series of essays describing in which way each segment of society will suffer under his administration, called If Trump Wins. The melodramatic title sets the tone for the end-of-times mood that’s building up around the upcoming elections. While they elaborate, emphasize and dissect the answer is so simple you can’t possibly believe it. You know what’s going to change? Nothing. Zero. Nada. You can take it to the bank as far as I’m concerned, but your savings account is probably as dry as a widow’s tit. Why? That’s also very simple. Depending on your tax bracket and social status, things are unlikely to turn around due to your net worth.
If your postal code is Montecito in California, whoever wins is of no consequence because your income and lifestyle will probably be unscathed. The only ones there who might spare a thought or two on how this will affect them are gardeners, maids and poolboys. Don’t be surprised at the vigilance regarding immigrants. If the babysitter your hubby is shagging in your guesthouse on lunch break ends up on the other side of the wall, who is going to take care of your baby? Or hers? At least she’ll be able to go home unless he blackmails her into an abortion. Oops, you’d have to find an abortion-friendly clinic in America first. So besides Trump, now the poor girl has both Roe and Wade laughing at her. What a hoot.
This is not to say that there are no major differences in policies and rhetorics between candidates, but that’s all just bells and whistles for average people, especially those in the lower part of the economic ladder. Unless a major strike of luck would suddenly wipe away your financial worries like college debt, healthcare or housing, whatever happens will be nothing to write home about, provided you have one instead of a tent or trailer. To quote Hillary: what difference does it all make? Is it going to get you off the street? Find a sustainable solution for others like you? It’s a matter of conviction who you want to see taking the next presidential oath, but in all honesty, everything else is just pretty wishful thinking.
Seeing Beyonce singing at Obama’s inauguration didn’t do anything for his voters, apart from herself. At least I presume she voted for him. I bet both would be surprised how many African Americans have since switched sides. And why not? You’ll shake only those hands that give you a food stamp and a hideaway from the winter cold. It’s my firm belief the success of any administration can be defined by their effect on rough sleepers and the food stamp gastronomy. Should the climate turn into an even bigger chaos, onepercenters will be tucked away safely. Otherwise the glam sham shelter industry would fail, with personal chefs, darkrooms and private gyms in tow. A place where every massage comes with a happy ending.
The Colossus must be tired of holding her lamp over there in New York. It’s been quite a while, our homegirl needs a break. The light doesn’t reach all the way to the border wall. I wouldn’t be surprised is the next thing in her hand would be a protest sign for her lack of health insurance. With all the heavy lifting she’s doing, that’s the least Trump owes her. Not even Billy boy Clinton cared to deal with this. Knowing how chummy his wife used to be with the most prominent man of her hit list, it’s no surprise seeing both of them having a jolly good time at his wedding to the future first lady at Mar-a-Lago. Ah, if walls could talk. I bet Hilly’s been blacklisted at Donny’s manse ever since. But that’s politics for you. She’s not laughing any more.
It’s the perfect summary of what we’ve become. Or what we’ve always been but they were just much better at hiding it. Why? Have a look here. What do you see? Democrats and Republicans? Bitter rivals? No. You see four very rich people. Ok, four white people as well, but that’s completely beside the point because that’d be the direction into which the woke left would want to mislead you. I really doubt Billy boy’s check would bounce in a strip joint just because he’s no longer the king of the hill. Just like any other rat that silently crawled back into sewers after their shot at the golden apple. Of course, there are exceptions: George Santos was drummed out of town as if he were Lewis Carroll’s unfortunate unicorn after too much plum cake.
Princess Diana, in her infinite wisdom, would say it wasn’t to be. The same is true here. Like a gifted artist who overdosed on a lethal cocktail of fame and drugs far too early, Santos also was robbed of the opportunity to shine as bright as a star among his morally and mentally compromised bretheren. We’ll never see a drag queen insurrection that would have covered Congress in a rainstorm of glitter, lipstick and fake eyelashes, no matter how much I hoped to see it. While our boys Donny and Billy hump their apprentices, George’s glitterati would be humping the Washington monument as it were the world’s biggest buttplug, requiring an amount of lube big enough to fill up the Reflecting Pool. And then some.
If Donny Boy were to throw a four-year tantrum again, you wouldn’t need to use your imagination to see something inappropriate on the South Lawn. Who you let into the highest office in the country says more about its people than their leader. He’s the insufferable uncle at the family lunch spitting out obscenities. He’s the guy smooching with his mistress on a football kiss cam while his wife is at home watching. The world would be better off without him keeping the nuclear codes underneath a pile of Stormy’s Daniels in the safe behind Ivanka’s bed. Those who don’t need a favor don’t care. If you do, don’t get your hopes up. You’re unlikely to get any. Judging by how much time he spends at court, Melania is the one not getting any now. But fear not, my friends. That’s what the poolboy is for.
