The Magic of Trump, or the Menace, by which I mean YOU

Trump’s convention speech was remarkable in a number of ways. Mostly it was notable for its seething paranoia, but then that was to be expected. It was the campaign’s strategy to go Judge Dredd. If a few Muslims want to wipe us off the planet then it’s high time for a megalomaniac with a horse whip to step forward and save America. Baa baa, here comes the Law and Order Candidate.

That was only the new stuff, there was plenty of old Trump left to moulder on the stage. There was Crooked Hillary once again. And there was Hey are these police officers great or what? And as always there was I am very smart. Very, smart.

Nothing however was more tired than Trump again affirming he will starch and iron every American wrinkle without mentioning how he will do it. One more time, he was all-encompassing and amounted to nothing. Right down to the barrel bottom. Totally and completely bankrupt.

But let’s be fair to him, this is the con. This is his great achievement. He’s just so awesome that he’s not going to bother with little details the way other losers do. Everybody else is dumb, and incompetent, both left and right, and do you really want any more of that? Of course not. So listen to The Donald: He can solve it all, everything. He can crack a safe, no problem. He can do a back flip – what are you kidding? He can end terrorism in America, all of it and soon. C’mon, now isn’t that better? Wouldn’t you rather have somebody tell you what all the problems are AND promise to fix them? Buh-bye everyone, thanks, love you all.

And therein lies Donald’s triumph: selling dickhead as if it were a strength. He’s so self-wanking that he must somehow be kinda good, know what I mean? Get it? And if you must know – funny you asked this – yes I do all of the great things, it’s true. Really, just go ask anybody. I’m going to be the best president, I mean believe me, you won’t believe it.

White America is really lapping this up. Trump is absolutely killing them. The rubes have seen too many Stallone films, where the five-foot-eight inch hero throws a hook short of Apollo’s face and the brute still goes down. Apparently they still want to believe that shit, Sly’s white-guy Kabuki even now leaving its mark. But Donald’s campaign has pulled back the bandages on an even bigger wound of theirs: America is fuck-all stupid.

For any politician to promise that he will govern by the magical Third Way? As regards to everything? It is painfully comical, as to be devastating. Still the faithful don’t see any reason to doubt Donald Trump will eclipse all who have come before him, over these 228 years. He’s the one who will – finally – solve all America’s problems, sure. But what do you mean, HOW? And what do you mean, WHY? YOU’RE the people who have been in charge all this time. We’re not the ones who are stupid, YOU’RE the real stupids, stupid. Donald’s voters are having a moment.

Trump’s insurgent campaign rests on this, the accusation that all of the elites – the senators, and the congress, and their staffs, and all of the U.S. Presidents, Republicans and Democrats, all of them, ever – have been dumb. The evident solutions to chronic problems like crime, and unemployment, and terrorism, and a struggling economy, have always been within their reach. They were just too stupid to do any better. Nothing is ever really impossible, yet nothing has ever really been done! Sad! But it’s true, or so Trump says. Now here he is, with The Way. Here comes a man with a method salutary and sanctified.

But does anybody know what it is? Don’t ask. Don’t make that mistake. Don’t bother. Donald has no idea. The Third Way is pretty much Joseph Smith’s golden plates, something only seen by him. If it even exists it’s probably too ponderous for anybody else.

This much is clear: it does not exist outside a certain group of people. Nor has it ever revealed itself beyond a certain man’s associates, strangely. The Third Way only manifests itself after some bunch of anonymous people are hired by Donald Trump. And when they sit before him, and they are asked about things by him, and they offer their current thoughts to him, that’s when the oracle speaks. That’s when the miracle occurs. Somewhere between Him and His People is the place where The Answers take form. Hallelujah.

This is the pith of Trump’s con. It’s his entire campaign: First there is Me. Then there are My People. And…poof.

This means that, for Trump to be anything less than a joke, or, shortly, a national catastrophe, there would necessarily have to be a substantial number of remarkable people living their lives in America outside power or authority – because nobody has bothered to listen to them yet, right? – that he’ll have to recruit to conjure his Third Way. But who would this be? And who outside power or authority has ever been visible to him? He’s never cared, and why should he? Mother Mary herself could descend upon Donald in a kaleidoscope of flame and he wouldn’t piss on her. Until the Blessed Virgin reaches out and smites him with an Adare Manor gargoyle he won’t bother.

Candidate Trump is nothing more than a man sitting before a crystal ball promising to summon formidable forces from the deep – only, mind you, if you’re willing to give him what he wants. Other candidates might make a big deal about demonstrating their worthiness, but he’s not so stupid, he isn’t about to do anything so fantastic or eye-popping right now. What, are you kidding me? He’ll start the gypsy hand-waving and incantations after you make him president, of course. That you can bet on. C’mon, would he lie to you?

Yeah don’t kid yourself. It’s not like the country never noticed this guy before. Donald has forever been a tabloid twit, a late show punchline. He’s a nasty and noxious personality who believes women are his keepsakes and dollars his dick. He’ll never be anything more than a figment of his own imagination…until you decide to go and vote for him. Then President Obama will have to open the White House door, hand him the keys and the missile launch codes, and he’ll become a real nightmare.