As I punch out this florid, possibly obtuse, bit of prose, it appears that the lump that is Trump has given his Russian dictator buddy what he wanted, while he, Donny Dearest, in spite of all his bluster and chest pounding, returns to the lower 48 with nothing; no ceasefire in Ukraine, no punishing tariffs on Russia (Vladboy said tariffs don’t bother him because he can work around them), just a big nothing burger. Not even with a small order of fries. Shakespeare said it best 500 years ago and he didn’t even have to mention Trump by name: “Tis a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” Mr. Macho Taco applauded Putin on a red carpet when he got off the plane and even let him speak first after the meeting. Donny once again has lived up to his aforementioned nickname.
You know if Dimwit Don had made any kind of breakthrough or had even been tossed a few crumbs of a deal from Vladimir Putin, rather than uselessly bouncing around on the roof of the White House like a spastic pinball, he’d be up there blasting it out the greatest political victory since American rebels took over the railroads and airports from the British during the Revolutionary War (remember the Fourth of July when he said that?) Instead, after the conference ended, he ran off the platform and wouldn’t take any questions, so he could hide in shame until his lackeys could conjure up some kind of excuse why he actually was victorious, while broadcasters all over Russia were, rightly so, claiming a great victory for Vlad the Impaler. This is what happens when a pretend dictator comes up against a real dictator. Russia’s war with Ukraine drags on, a war that Trump conned millions into believing he would end the first day he took office. Con men make a profession out of manipulating people through their feelings and beliefs. I’ll never know why, now, it’s so easy to con Americans, that we’ve ended up with half the country under the spell of an imbecile. Again, I blame the high fructose corn syrup.
Speaking of tariffs, now that Trump’s Big Barfable Bill is the law of the land, we can contend with his Terrible Toxic Tariffs. One minute after they were imposed and took effect the Talking Taco tweeted that billions and billions of dollars are now pouring in to boost the great American economy. In your dreams, oh Barnyard Breath. Nothing was pouring in because foreign manufacturers don’t pay the tariffs. American companies who bought the foreign stuff pay the tariffs, and they’re not going to lose 10 or 25 or more percent of their profits. Their customers are going to pay the tariffs by way of higher prices on goods. Guess who that will be? Bad decisions always end up affecting the lowest humans on the totem pole; namely us. A few unlucky human-types may be lost along the way because they can’t afford the higher prices for necessities, but that’s life.
In the military, a general orders a colonel to recapture some land from the enemy, then goes back to watching The Real Housewives of Salem. Later on the general learns the battle was a total failure. He blames the colonel, who blames the company CO, who blames what’s left of the sergeants and soldiers even though they’re the ones who had to fight and lose, the ones at the bottom of the totem pole. Some were lost along the way, but that’s life.
Up at the top in Donny’s World, it’s just a bunch of tariffs he wants. Consumers will grumble but get used to it. They can buy their kids fewer Barbies this Christmas. Cut down on their groceries and buy clothes at Goodwill. How else will he have money for a $200 million ballroom or a multi-million dollar parade, if he doesn’t get it from us, the poor hard-working, tax-paying slobs at the bottom of the totem pole? For the general, it’s a chunk of land. The soldiers will accept it because it’s their job. Consumers will accept it because they have no choice. But one day, without care, the bottom of the pole will rot away and everything on top will come crashing down. I sure don’t want to be under that pile when it happens.