Let that sink in for a minute: It was after midnight, Dear Leader was likely alone in the White House — or at least only accompanied by his goon Keith Schiller. All the ‘adults’ had gone home…. Ivanka and Jared and Rience and HR and Spicey all slumbering peacefully with visions of sugar plums…. and Orange Julius is angry.
Instead of grabbing his phone and tweeting, he calls in the military officer who is always nearby carrying the ‘nuclear football’.
There are four things in the Football. The Black Book containing the retaliatory options, a book listing classified site locations, a manila folder with eight or ten pages stapled together giving a description of procedures for the Emergency Alert System, and a three-by-five inch card with authentication codes. The Black Book was about 9 by 12 inches and had 75 loose-leaf pages printed in black and red. The book with classified site locations was about the same size as the Black Book, and was black. It contained information on sites around the country where the president could be taken in an emergency.
Grabbing the Black Book, Dear Leader finds the entry for ‘Nuke North Korea’, then grabs the authentication card and punches the code into the transmitter. A brief caress of the button and a muttered ‘this will shut them up about Trump and Russia’ and…
NOBODY CAN STOP HIM
That’s right — the President is the Commander in Chief and, by law, his military orders cannot be countermanded. The officer carrying the ‘Football’ may have doubts about the president’s sanity, but is not legally able to question his actions.
Nobody along the path that the launch order travels can prevent it. This is deliberate, since the likely scenario requires a hair-trigger response, with no time to debate or re-consider the options. Unfortunately, nothing in the design of the entire system accounted for the possibility of a president becoming totally detached from reality… while at the same time being enabled by the political party in power.
So, as Dear Leader asked when he woke up, what does ‘covfefe’ really mean?
It means we have a 12 year old sociopathic narcissist with ADHD as our president, alone and bored and feeling persecuted, with an obedient servant standing in the hall holding the ultimate toy…. one that he knows he’s not supposed to play with.
What could possibly go wrong?