As reported by Siladitya Ray, writing for Forbes, and as you might expect, the former Grifter-in-Chief isn’t missing the chance of a lifetime to profit off his own criminality, bilking the pathetic rubes who would still crawl over glass to pledge their firstborn children to him.
As Ray reports:
Urging his supporters to contribute “any amount” to “defend our movement from the never-ending witch hunts,” the email adds that the indictment will “BACKFIRE MASSIVELY on Joe Biden.”
A second fundraising email from the Trump campaign promised to send an “I Stand With Trump” t-shirt to supporters who contribute more than $47 before midnight Thursday.
As if anyone is going to actually remember “3/30/23.”
In all seriousness, these are either going to be collector’s items, or (far more likely) totally worthless in a few weeks. Why? Because after his second and third indictments they’re going to be moot. Some poor folks in China are going to have to jump on this, fairly quickly, just to keep up.
So, will they follow up by printing brand new shirts, reflecting future indictments? Or will they just add those additional indictment dates to the original design, to read, “I stand with Trump: 3/30/23, 4/7/23, and 7/8/23” for example?
Or will his campaign just jack up the price of the originals, hawking them as “vintage indictment” memorabilia?
And what will they do when he’s convicted? Hawk some new, updated shirts, of course.
Because that’s the whole point: a new product, a new grift, every single time. Once you have a willing audience of dupes ready to spend their money, it doesn’t matter which way the wheel spins.
If anyone ever doubted P.T. Barnum’s famous adage, Donald Trump has long since put those doubts firmly to rest.
Here's a thought: If Trump views his indictment as nothing more than a tawdry fundraising opportunity, maybe the media ought to stop treating it as something "cataclysmic" and worthy of all this "deep concern."
Maybe we should just oblige him and treat him like any other two-bit con man who simply got caught in the act, babbling lame excuses, with his fingers stuck in the till.
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