WHICH Eight Wars?
I cannot help but think about all the white men in this country who are not anti-Trump. I didn’t marry one. I wasn’t raised by one. And most of my dearest friends are so anti-Trump that it oozes from their pores.
But then there’s my next door neighbor, who became my next door neighbor even after I wouldn’t sign a petition attempting to block low-income elderly from moving into a new development at the end of our street. “It’ll lower our housing values!” he shrieked.
“Where will the low-income elderly people live?” I asked.
“Anywhere but my street!” he said.
Then I think about the high school football player – who I know from high school – who said he is just “so sick of being blamed for things just because of the way I look.” He is a sturdy, heterosexual white man with white-blond hair.
I wanted to say: “What are you being blamed for?” But honestly, he wouldn’t have known the answer.
I think about the pussy-grabbing comment Trump made a decade ago; I believed then that nobody would vote for a man so lewd and disgusting. And now I know that, in actuality, many people would vote for a man so lewd and disgusting because they are lewd and disgusting, too.
I can remember standing in an airport and seeing that he was convicted of SO. MANY. FELONIES. I’d just gotten off a long plane ride and was thrilled to learn that justice FINALLY was served!
But no, that was just a blip in the man’s radar. Felonies? What felonies? He went on to not only win the presidency but commit felonies every single day with not a single soul standing in his way. Billions of dollars are being funneled into his pocket even as he changes his focus every thirty seconds and gives the finger to anyone who criticizes him. He defecates on the protesters and people … laugh?
I would not be surprised if the man defecated in public, in real life, on a senator’s face. I could see the senator now, struggling not to eat any of the man’s shit, while smiling and saying, “Good one, Mister President.”
I mean, isn’t that what they’re doing every single day anyway?
Today he’s complaining that he hasn’t been given a Nobel Peace Prize – again – because that’s what he thinks he deserves. He’s constantly repeating that he’s singlehandedly stopped 8 wars – then stomping his feet and whimpering because nobody gave him a prize for doing such an amazing thing.
So … what eight wars did he stop? He keeps saying it as though it’s a fact, as though it is reality. He’s said “eight wars” so many times, I can’t help but wonder: why isn’t anyone asking WHICH eight wars? Personally I was unaware that eight wars were raging in the past year. Or perhaps he’s including his utterly useless first four years. Maybe he’s got an itemized list in his head of the eight wars he’s supposedly “stopped.”
I, for one, would really like to know which wars were stopped. I really want to know! I am all for world peace, and I have seen the exact opposite of world peace pouring from the wreckage of the White House and into the streets of Minneapolis and beyond.
And yet, it is not just Trump saying that’s he’s stopped eight wars. Somewhere in the congressional hallways, someone has got to be agreeing with him. Others must be kissing his ass to such a degree that they, too, believe that eight wars have been stopped by this holier-than-thou mistake-of-a-man.
Repeatedly, I fall back to the knowledge that Adolf Hitler died on the last day of April, 1945. Donald Trump was born on June 14, 1946. I know nothing about the afterlife, nor does anyone else who is currently alive. But who am I to say that reincarnation doesn’t exist?
And apparently it takes exactly one year, one month, and 14 days.