BY BOB BEARDEN
The Russians are coming, the Russians are coming. Nope, they’ve already been here and gone. Well, maybe not gone but they’ve certainly infiltrated our democratic republic and at the very least compromised our president and his clown car of modern day Keystone Kops.
Impeach him! Impeach him! Cries go out through the etheric! Impeach him! Why even Ann the Colder is screeching it out these days. Well, she is tweeting it, “At this point, who DOESN’T want Trump impeached?” As ever the noose tightens around him from the Mueller investigation.
And even walls not built are tumbling down all around him. It turns out that the old 50-foot wall that Mexico was going to pay for was just a figment of the delusional dementia in the T-rump’s scrambled brain. Who knew that the fabled wall was just metaphorical meme, as Charles Pierce put it the other day!?
Fantasy land! But when you think about it most of the idiotic ideas and tweets and promises to his rabid base were just that – fantasy land! He didn’t have any real intentions of doing any of the things he promised, because he didn’t have any intention of getting elected. He was just trying to up his brand to put more money in his coffers.
But then the best laid plans of mice and men caught up with his fantasy land and – voila! – he got elected. And the real fantasy began. All the crass stupidities of the campaign he promised suddenly needed to be fulfilled. But he didn’t have a clue as to how to accomplish that because he never intended to be elected.
And immediately he started going off script. Promises, promises, promises. Oh, woe was he. He had made promises to keep and miles to go before he would ever sleep. Tweets! Tweets! Now there was the answer. Rile up his base and tweet, tweet, tweet!
The Keystone Kops had great scripts to follow and they knew how to act, but of course none of them ever got elected president, so theirs was a safe haven. T-rump find himself caught in a Catch 22-situation. Between the rock and the proverbial hard place, with so much excess baggage that dumping it overboard just wasn’t ever going to work out.
The man with the projectile eyebrows found himself ensconced at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue gasping like a fish out of water trying to find the pond he had just flopped out of. And so the story goes, on and on and on.
Will there be a happy ending? Will the emperor finally admit he has no clothes and fade quietly into history? Or will he be carried out kicking and screaming, impeached upon his own petard of stupidity?
School’s still out on that, but my money is on him slinking back to Mar-a-Lago, tail tucked twixt his legs, tweeting how he coulda been a contender if only they’d let him build that damn wall! Well, sometimes, reality bites!
– Bob Bearden is a trustee of the Central Oklahoma Labor Federation, a member of Mayflower Congregational Church UCC in Oklahoma City and a frequent contributor to The Oklahoma Observer