Be Careful What You Wish For

 

     Behold the shouting, snarling face of terminal, infantile petulance.

     This is what you wanted, America. Well, like the old saying goes, be careful what you wish for. And, if there is any image, any man, who delineates that aphorism better than most, it's the one above.

     That is the discolored, sagging face of perpetual grievance, of endless, unjustified rage, a man who not only can't be made happy but, indeed, won't be made happy. This is the perpetually howling face of a man whose black hole where his soul should be cannot possibly be filled, one who demands everything and gives nothing that he cynically promises.

     The fact that his inaugural tomorrow will be held indoors proves how little he thinks of his supporters and one would be foolish to think he gave them even a moment of thought before deciding to take it indoors. The man who said on the campaign trail that he would lower grocery prices then said weeks after the election that once prices are raised, it's very difficult to bring them down again. The man who once came out swinging against H1B work visas is now hip hip hooray over them so his tech bro billionaire buddies don't have to pay a competitive wage to his MAGA faithful.

     This is the man who will defile some Bible he's never read as he takes an oath of office he never intends to uphold any more than he had the first time four years ago. Yes, the man who wants to invade and annex Greenland can't get his tiny little hands cold while giving not a fuck how much you'd spent to travel to DC to see his now invisible inauguration (Maybe you can storm the Capitol again. I'm sure Trump will pardon you like he had the others).

     But that's not to say he still doesn't hold you in his thoughts. Just two days ago, he announced another Trump meme coin that he fully expects you to buy out of your Social Security checks (before he starts whittling away at it so he can give another ruinous round of tax cuts to his billionaire buddies who will be nice and toasty in the Rotunda while you're all freezing your fat, corn-fed asses outside like cattle waiting in the stockyard to be slaughtered).

     You try to fill what risibly passes for his soul with fulsome, full-throated praise and well wishes he can't be bothered to hear. Because attempting to do so is like trying to fill the Grand Canyon with the contents of your pockets or wallets, which is an apt simile because, beyond your votes for him that you cannot cast any more, that is the extent of your use to him- To turn out and empty your pockets and wallets for him. But, as with the sucking black hole where his soul should be, it is never enough.

     And, for you people of color who actually reasonably expected would get a break from him, trust me when I say he will not check to see if you voted for him last November before he deports your aunt or grandpa who lived decades here obeying the law and working hard before ICE comes around and deports and smearing their reputations in the process to justify his Fourth Reich roundup.

     When you vote for a pure sociopath, and Trump is a pure, textbook sociopath straight out of the DSM-V, there is only one class who will benefit aside from the soulless sycophants who will literally sell what's left of their souls in service to him and that's the donor class. That would be the ones who won't have to bundle up as they occupy the Rotunda that you all had briefly occupied on January 6, 2021 when Trump sent you there only to abandon you after he realized you'd failed to overthrow the government.

    

     And this is what awaits you, like it or not. You think happy days are here again, that Trump will lead you to the Promised Land. You never tire of getting grifted, getting disappointed. And, over the next four years, considering Trump lasts that long, we will never tire of telling you, "I told you so."