I'm getting Trump-fatigue. It's like being subjected to the same Three Stooges short, over and over again. A circus can't survive on clowns alone.
The latest bulletin from seething cesspit that is the Mind of Trump comes from a Rolling Stone interview. It is, predictably, the usual blatherfest of megalomaniacal gas; the same, excruciatingly off-key Trumpet solo.
Rolling Stone's Paul Solotaroff is welcomed aboard Airfarce One by the man himself:
I follow him into the stateroom of the 757, past three rows of sleeper seats wrapped in eggshell calfskin, with seat-belt buckles of plated gold and the family crest stitched in every headrest; past the conference center, with its mahogany table and a dozen executive high-backs snugged around it; past the in-plane theater, with its oyster-shape couches and the 57-inch flatscreen tuned to Fox; past the bumped-out bulkhead and the first of two bedrooms, this one fitted with mohair couches that convert to a full-size bed; and then the master bedroom, with its silk-spun walls and bathroom fixtures finished in rosy gold.
"Not bad, you agree?" calls Trump over his shoulder, leading me down the corridor to the cockpit. "I bought this from Paul Allen and gutted it top to bottom. It's bigger than Air Force One, which is a step down from this in every way. Rolls-Royce engines; seats 43. Didja know it was featured on the Discovery Channel as the world's most luxurious jetliner?" (Fact-check: It isn't bigger than Air Force One, and it was featured on the Smithsonian Channel. But in this, as in much of what Trump says, it's more about the broad strokes than the details.)
'Broad strokes' is evidently '
Rolling Stone-ese' for 'lies'. The whole piece is well-worth reading. Trump is more complex and in some ways, even more repellent than I'd thought.
Trump confirms this toward the end of the article:
With his blue tie loosened and slung over his shoulder, Trump sits back to digest his meal and provide a running byplay to the news. Onscreen, they've cut away to a spot with Scott Walker, the creaky-robot governor of Wisconsin. Praised by the anchor for his "slow but steady" style, Walker is about to respond when Trump chimes in, "Yeah, he's slow, all right! That's what we got already: slowwww." His staffers at the conference table howl and hoot; their man, though, is just getting warm. When the anchor throws to Carly Fiorina for her reaction to Trump's momentum, Trump's expression sours in schoolboy disgust as the camera bores in on Fiorina. "Look at that face!" he cries. "Would anyone vote for that? Can you imagine that, the face of our next president?!" The laughter grows halting and faint behind him. "I mean, she's a woman, and I'm not s'posedta say bad things, but really, folks, come on. Are we serious?"
Firstly, a guy who looks like Trump (corpulent, multi-chinned, Cheeto-dust colored, windswept chinchilla glued to his head) really shouldn't knock other people for their looks.
Y'know, motes and beams; a Biblical scholar like Trump should know that.
Secondly, Fiorina's looks are irrelevant; what matters are her antediluvian views and her proven incompetence. But, it's Trump...whaddayagonnado?
I have real trouble believing that that this petulant, noisy oaf is serious about running. I suppose we'll find out.
Until then, I guess we'd better get used to Trump The LarryMoeCurly slapping, smacking and poking us...over and over and over again. (sigh)