11 Serious Thoughts From The Satirist

I’ve said before that the Democratic primary needs to stop enforcing litmus tests on all the presidential candidates, but I will amend that to approving of one pledge every Democrat should make to at some point on their first day in office sign an executive order that calls for removing the sex-trafficker-in-chief’s name from everything. Fuck Trump and his giant, dumb, obsolete-already battleships, his ludicrous ballroom, his co-opting of other memorials, and everything else for which he exhibits no class naming after himself while he’s still alive.
I’m beginning to suspect that Trump’s obsession with naming as many things as possible after himself, no matter how inappropriate, illegal, cringey, or pathetic, is a sure sign of consciousness that he has little time left to be president — or alive — because of health reasons.
He’s incredibly low-energy, he’s sitting all the time, his cankles are so fat they could explode from the decades of greasy McDonald’s arterial plaque any day now, his hand bruises are too big to conceal with makeup, he now evidently needs labels on the Oval Office for when he’s evidently wandering outside confused, his dementia is making it nearly impossible for him to conduct coherent press conferences or rally speeches, and the stress from the dam breaking on his sex-trafficking cover-up is surely threatening to stroke him out.
I would be very okay with Trump dying in office from natural causes and joining the died-in-office-but-not-assassinated club with William Henry Harrison (pneumonia/typhoid), Zachary Taylor (gastroenteritis/cholera), Warren G. Harding (heart attack/stroke), and Franklin D. Roosevelt (cerebral hemorrhage). I definitely do not want him to be assassinated and martyred in any way. That would be very bad for America both because way too many Republicans have already been clamoring for a civil war for years, and it would make many people develop sympathy for him and possibly forget what a shit stain on US history his first term was, and what a colossal failure his second term has been.
I’ve been posting a bunch of satirical jokes the last couple days about how city dumps, EPA superfund sites, and porta-potties are being named in honor of Donald J. Trump, and I really think more blue states and cities ought to be doing this. It’s funny trolling, it makes a valid point about Trump’s egomania, and such memorials to Trump are very fitting! So I’m going to create a template today or tomorrow, print out a bunch of copies myself to post on every porta-potty I can, and invite you, my cherished readers, to do the same — stay tuned!
I got a lot of Christmas spirit and cheer seeing the Fox News video of Trump at his Mar-a-Lago Christmas party sitting at a table with Melania and her father, with Melania’s body language clearly showing off her trademark disgust in her husband as she ignores him except, for a brief moment when Donald finally leans in to say something to them, to clearly tell Donald he’s making a fool of himself.
It was some lovely Christmas magic that state media Fox, while trying to present the moment as a nice, propagandized image of their allegedly happy marriage, accidentally caught the truth of Melania’s real feelings for him.
It’s quite a rich character study that Trump, despite being president and surrounded by rich members at his own private club, could be so lonely on a holiday. The people around him are not real friends, but opportunists riding along on his grifter coattails for financial gain, and sucking up to him for proximity to power. That he could rise so high in society and still not have any relationships that are not merely transactional in nature — even his wife — is like a morality tale about an exaggerated villain in a children’s book.
It’s undeniably true that Trump just does not appreciate or understand any of the ceremonial aspects of his office, and is quite apparently a sociopath. He spent this Christmas, a holiday honoring love, forgiveness, and charity posting online hundreds of times full of venomous attacks, petty insults, and sociopathic self-absorption, which surprised literally no one because that’s what he does every holiday meant for considering others for a change from Memorial Day to Labor Day, and from Veterans Day to Valentine’s Day.
There was also the viral clip of Donald and Melania calling children on Christmas Eve — with Donald telling the children his usual weird ass shit we’ve come to expect — and when Donald looked over at Melania, who was facing the complete opposite direction, and started to compliment her she immediately asked to take another call. Melania’s extremely rare political appearances often involve large, mysterious payments to her, so it’s possible Trump was paying her for some minimum number of calls she was eager to finish so she could leave.
I saw a lot of commentary about how this Christmas just felt different because of the dark era in American history we’re all currently living through, and I agree. There’s some supreme cognitive dissonance going on when Christian Republicans celebrate a holiday honoring a Middle Eastern religious refugee born into poverty hiding from an authoritarian government who grew up to preach loving foreigners and migrants like family and embodying the loving, cheek-turning, forgiving virtues of the lamb in a world of lions… while simultaneously cheering for an authoritarian wannabe dictator sex-trafficker who is gleefully perpetrating family breakups, arrests, and torture of our peaceful neighbors in domestic concentration camps and foreign gulags in a series of policies proclaiming the righteousness of racism and discrimination. Republican Christians have really lost the thread of their faith.

Become a paid subscriber and support my comedy for just $2.50 a month. 🥃

☕️ Or buy me a coffee if you want to help keep me caffeinated.

If you think Donald Trump is a joke, I published two books for you: Satire In The Trump Years, and Satire In The Biden Years. Or, better yet, request your local library order a copy on their website.

I’ve also published three existentialist poetry books, Cabaret No Stare, Moon Goon, and Hotel Golden Hours available in print and on Kindle.

Because our social media platforms are being scrambled up by oligarchs, if you like my humor, diversify where you follow me so you never miss my jokes to interrupt your doomscrolling: Twitter, Bluesky, Threads, Facebook, Instagram, Spoutible, Medium, and Substack.