Soul selling, GOP style

Dear President Trump,

You must be feeling mighty good this morning looking forward to your rally tonight in Houston to stump for Ted Cruz. At the end of the football game Saturday they played James Brown’s “I Feel Good” super loud and all morning it’s been stuck in my head because I think it probably captures your mood.

I’ve also been trying out a version for Ted that goes “I feel sick, I knew that I would now. I feel sick, so sick because of you now.” I know it doesn’t exactly conform to the word patterning of the original, but if Ted has any shreds of decency lingering anywhere, he has to be feeling ill this morning at the prospect of having someone who cruelly mocked him and dissed his family campaigning to save his ass. Whether he feels ill or has somehow done the mental and moral gymnastics needed to not feel like a complete and utter loser in this situation, he has most certainly has sold his soul to the devil. Sadly, the calculation will probably pay off in the short run such that he will probably win the election and more “Never Trumpers” will dutifully fall in line, but some day, somewhere some little child is going to ask him on camera how he could have thrown in with someone who disrespected him. He’ll mutter something unconvincing about what a great guy you really are and how it was all a misunderstanding, but he’ll look like he’s about to throw up and he’ll realize that selling one’s soul to the devil for some votes is very a bad idea in the end.

But you, you are undoubtedly feeling good this morning. You’ll feel good tonight, you’ll feel good tomorrow, you’ll always treasure the memory of having Ted grovel and beg you to come rescue his sorry ass from Beto (whether he actually groveled and begged, this is how you’ll remember it). You can be as mean and cruel and vile towards people as you want and if they are in the GOP, they’ll swallow whatever pride they had and come knocking, caps in hand, eyes downcast asking for favors. I don’t know whether you make them say stupid shit in whiny voices (‘pretty please, you are the man and I can’t do this without you’) or if you can’t help but immediately agree to the favors because you both know right then that you have them, that you won.

May we be safe from those tempted to sell their souls to you.
May we be happy to support leaders who build others up.
May we focus on and cultivate healthy versions of leadership.
May we make peace with our baser human instincts and may we strive to rise above them.

Sincerely,
Tracy Simpson

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