No matter what you think of Donald J. Trump, you got to admit he’s a cracker-jack salesman, with an uncanny gift for manipulating the mainstream media, like a three-armed, rental clown juggling pin-pulled grenades, on an express elevator to hell.
Every single day something he touches starts smoking. You’ve heard of the Midas Touch. Trump has the Hades Touch. His very being is constructed to strike the flint that shoots a spark towards the tetchy kindling he calls staff.
At least folks living in the Eastern and Central time zones experience the pandemonium in real time. Those of us that live out west are doubly disconcerted, constantly waking up to wonder, “What fresh human bonfire has been set off already?” While we fitfully slept in California, the Orange Firestarter had a three-hour head start to light another fuse to Armageddon.
In his first press conference since moving into the White House, the 45th President ignited further conflagrations, first by calling the media “dishonest” then disputing both logic and math. Say what you will, he does punch upwards. Logic and math are not lightweight opponents.
The real estate developer turned apprentice leader of the free world is an expert in ranting and raving, while holding the press to standards he refuses to live up to or believe in. He bizarrely repeatedly claimed to have more Electoral Votes than anybody since Reagan–which is only true if you don’t count Clinton, Bush One, or Obama.
When a reporter pointed out the discrepancy, Trump dismissed him with, “Well, I was given that information.” Presumably by the same people who told him he won the debates, enjoys widespread popularity, and has accomplished more than any other President at this juncture in his reign.
Trump mentioned ratings numerous times. He gets good ratings. CNN has lousy ratings. He eats Ratings Bran for breakfast. From out of nowhere he proclaimed “A nuclear holocaust would be like no other,” which is like saying total human extinction would be odd. You get the feeling he’d be okay with one, as long as the ratings were huge. Which they would be, initially. Later on, not so much.
Anything he doesn’t like or disagrees with gets labeled “fake news.” Since the election he’s jumped on the phrase like an old dog with a new chew toy. Fake news. Fake news. Fake news. He repeats the phrase so much, he runs the risk of becoming the Fake News President, although many folks maintain the “news” part is superfluous.
He finished by calling his administration “a fine-tuned machine.” It sounds better than “out of control dumpster fire,” but it’s a tad less accurate. Whatever machine he’s talking about, you’ll want to wear a hard hat and keep the kids 50 feet away, decked out in fire retardant clothes. The machine may be fine-tuned, but either the mechanics are under-trained, have been given the wrong tools, or are disciples of the Three Stooges.
Trump says he knows stuff nobody else does. I can’t imagine what it could be, but I’m fairly certain we can rule out anything algebraically based. Meanwhile, the biggest fear of a 3 million-majority segment of America is, once this guy realizes he’s destined to go down as the worst President in history, he might prefer to be remembered as the last President in history.