As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool’s bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!
Like the dog returning to its vomit, America’s returned to its dangerous flirtation with populism. How’d Andrew Jackson work out for America? Sure, Jackson threw a totally bitchin’ inaugural party, but his style of populism was a dangerous, embarrassing blot on American history, not least of which because he was the founder of the modern Democratic Party.
Jackson ran “seeking to act as the direct representative of the common man.” He wanted the Electoral College abolished. He threatened to hang John Calhoun for daring to seek lower taxes. He destroyed America’s central bank. He championed the Indian Removal Act of 1830, which launched the Trail of Tears. Jackson even refused to enforce Supreme Court decisions with which he disagreed.
Does any of this sound familiar? It should. It’s Trump in a nutshell: a megalomaniac who cares not a whit for law or Constitution, so long as he gets his way.*
Our current candidate vying to be “direct representative of the common man” is one Donald J. Trump, super genius. “I will build a wall and make Mexico pay for it,” Trump roars. How exactly he will accomplish this feat, Trump doesn’t say. Yet people don’t care because Trump speaks for them. Trump says (the largely foolish, shortsighted, and/or bigoted) things they think. And Trump’s mad. Really mad. So Trump must be right. Just like the Trumpalos.
Trumpalos don’t care that Trump’s not conservative. Trumpalos don’t care that Trump’s a crony capitalist. Trumpalos don’t care that Trump’s ignorant of most foreign policy, and apparently history. Trumpalos only care that Trump gives voice to their incoherent and contradictory rage-fueled political fantasies.
Trump isn’t going to be president, no matter how hard Trumpalos insist he will. Heck, Trump’s not even going to win the nomination, assuming the rest of the candidates get their collective act together.
Trump won’t be president because media will work nonstop to show Trump as an idiot and a bigot. “Oh, it won’t work because Trump will show them,” Trumpalos say. Well, good luck with that. Mitt Romney, as squeaky clean Mormon, was pilloried as an animal abusing, pension stealing crypto-fascist by a press corps all in for Obama.
What makes Trumpalos think the press corps will be any less in the tank for Hillary Clinton or whoever the Democrats nominate? And what, pray tell, leads Trumpalos to believe the results will be any different, a loss engineered by the house organ dragging its preferred candidate over the finish line? Trump’s not immune to day after day of hit pieces and negative coverage just because Trumpalos think he’s super-awesome-sexy-cool.
Trump would also have to contend with Hillary Clinton’s “make me the first Vagina-American president” campaign. Why do Trumpalos think Hillary Clinton’s devoid of content other than feel good platitudes about making history will fail? Were Trumpalos not sentient in 2008 and 2012 when Americans elected President Obama “because Black?” What makes Trumpalos believe against all evidence that a majority of Americans want an old, white, loud-mouthed New Yorker with bad hair, an abrasive personality, no qualifications, and a thick Queens accent? Nothing, aside from Trumpalos irrational, quasi-religious belief that Trump is the messiah, sent to save the Republican party.
Trump likely won’t win the nomination. Right now, it appears Trump will win New Hampshire and lose Iowa. He may win large chunks of delegates across the South, depending on when other candidates start dropping out of the race. But the primaries eventually turn to delegate rich states like New York, Illinois, California, and other liberal bastions. What makes Trumpalos think blue state RINOs like ‘Puter have any interest in a loudmouthed asshat New Yorker like Trump? At best, Trump limps into the convention damaged, without enough delegates to win the nomination outright.
Which brings ‘Puter to Trump’s second nomination obstacle: math. Now, ‘Puter’s bad at math, but even ‘Puter knows that polls showing 35% of registered Republican voters love Trump mean that 65% of Republicans aren’t so hot on Trump. Cruz is at 20% nationally, Rubio’s at 13%. Add Bush’s 4% and you’re at 37%. ‘Puter’s betting people that are for Cruz, Rubio, and Bush (not to mention Christie, Fiorina, and Kasich) aren’t voting for Trump, no way, no how, at least not in large numbers.
Trumpalos will stutter and sputter and tell you Republicans will love Trump once they get to know him as the nominee, and anyway Trump’s *totally* going to pull in loads of Democrats. Right. Trumpalos didn’t buy this “we’ll get more Democrats if we nominate a moderate candidate” argument with either McCain or Romney. What’s the Trumpalos’ evidence for “we’ll get more Democrats if we nominate a (arguendo) conservative Trump?” There is no such evidence because the proposition is so illogical it’s farcical.
What Trump *does* have the power to do is to lose the election for Republicans. If Trump’s the nominee, Republicans will lose outright. If Trump runs third party, Republicans will lose outright. If Trump snipes at the Republican nominee from his cushy Fifth Avenue penthouse, Republicans will lose outright.
Trumpalos may not care if Republicans lose in 2016, claiming Republicans deserve to lose because they’re not TruCons™ like Trump, but they should.
A Democrat president in 2016 means ObamaCare is cemented into law. It means at least one (Ginsburg), maybe as many as four (Ginsburg, Kennedy, Scalia, and Breyer), lifetime tenured Supreme Court justices. It means a continuation of Obama’s feckless foreign policy. It means higher taxes. It may mean a Democrat controlled Senate, with Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer.
‘Puter can see Trumpalos’ burnt, bandaged fingers wabbling back to the fire, eager to vote for Trump, consequences be damned. But Trumpalos would do well to remember the gods of the copybook headings with terror and slaughter return.
* To be fair to Trumpalos, President Obama also fits this mold well. Trump and Obama are of a piece, men with personal agendas seeking power for no other reason than to advance those agendas, consequences (and law) be damned. So, when Trumpalos look in the mirror, they ought to see the very same Obama supporters they mocked in 2008 and 2012. Trumpalos *are* Obamaites, reasonless fanatics to the last, willing to die for their (deeply flawed, un-American) causes.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.