Dear President Trump,
I almost typed “Dear President Rump.” Fitting. There are some other choice words that rhyme with trump like lump, dump, and crump, which means to explode heavily, and slump. I know, there’s bump as well and I suppose that fits in a way too. Maybe others are too grown up to go to town on words that rhyme with your last name but I think folks have been missing out on some rich material here.
What I was going to start with today until my mis-type sent me on a tangent is this: Cue the sycophants! Now everyone (in a certain political party with certain levels of assets) is on board and laughing with the Sugar Daddy who delivered the goods. You are the best leader ever, the absolute visionary who battled valiantly to sneak in the demise of the ACA and to deliver enormous permanent tax cuts to corporations. You got Job 1 done and everyone is so, so proud of their Man and of themselves for putting up with you long enough to get ‘er done. Sure, they are going to have to hold their noses to get through Job 2, but with Job 1 done and the righteous, greedy glee associated with Job 2’s mission of whacking the shit out of the safety net, I’m sure we are going to hear ever deafening chorales to your inspired leadership coming from the right side of the aisle in 2018. Gag me.
There is the little problem of you blurting out the obvious, base motivations for the tax bill. And there’s the not so little problem of the ongoing Russia collusion investigation. And there’s the really not at all little problem of the American people not being completely anesthetized. So, I think we can expect the volume of shiny bald-face lies to keep ratcheting up until it feels like 1984 Big Brother time. I mean how else are you going to convince enough people (we have to remember, you don’t have to convince us all – just enough of the right people living in the right gerrymandered states to keep enough of you in office) to keep this sick machine going? But those are serious chinks in the armor we have to exploit if we are to save our critically ill country whose leadership can’t muster the compassion to approve the federal insurance program for our children with debilitating chronic conditions and cancer. For shame.
May we prioritize safeguarding our most vulnerable.
May we be happy to share our resources equitably.
May we take care of everyone’s health.
May we keep breathing so we aren’t swept off the cliff by harmful rhetoric.