Fainting from hunger after a very long seven year journey, the plight of Republican voters was desperate. Without the sustenance of a single win had they stumbled, when suddenly an equally famished leader asked, “Does anyone have something to eat?” A voice in the crowd said, “There’s Donald here, with just two loaves and five fishes. It’s not much, compared to a Happy Meal.” (A little poetic license here, if not already.) Trump yelled forcefully, “SIT DOWN.” That’s how yelling is done on the “internets,” with caps. Next, acting more presidential, he said, “Thank you.” Mostly politely and respectfully he framed that word of gratitude. Following the massive rally he ordered, “Let’s see if anything remains from what I’ve done.” Sixteen also rans responded. They walked among the people collecting the leftovers. Later they were seen frequenting with, distributing the tiny morsels to Democrat operatives mostly, foolishly assuming the arrogant, finicky recipients were connoisseur-like journalists and respectable members of the media.
Now Trump’s audience was rather evenly divided, some on grass, into three groups or types of voters: those who refused to be fooled again, those who would never learn, and those who thought they knew what they knew. In short: the informed, the uninformed, and the misinformed. Knowing The Art of the Deal was good as gospel for everyone. And not desiring any be lost to the purveyors of the income inequality cults ravaging the economy, Trump addressed each group appropriately in accordance with their general voter IQ’s.
To the informed, those determined never to be fooled again, who showed some common sense, who were hungry for leadership that could win, he spoke in kind, informative parables. “Wall” was the first and most endearing parable. The image was of a Yuge Wall, tall enough not to jump from the top of, yet not tall enough for parachuting. That wall with a Beautiful, Meaningful Door was gripping. The absence of details regarding the who, what, where, why, and when of the wall were of no concern to them. The story of promise, simply stated in a single word image, to them was sufficient. This group went away truly blessed and in awe of Trump’s ability to meet their present needs.
To the uninformed, many of them in the media, all of them in the Republican Establishment; to those proud of their choices of Dole, McCain, and Romney; and to the “Jay Walkers” and many in “Watter’s World,” Trump performed miracles, just to keep them guessing and returning for more. To many gasps and expressions of shock and horror, he spread pejoratives of, “crooked, lying, little, and low energy.” They waited…. Waited…. For the other shoe to drop. For an apology. In any language. A mea culpa. For his ratings to crater. It didn’t happen. Then, presaging that he would arise, Trump won poll after poll, primary after primary. To the dismay of the uninformed, informed voters began to develop an unflinching loyalty to everything orange. Further, Trump gave evidence words, in and of themselves, were not his message, the message resonating with his voters. Which helps explain how he could say most anything, make any mistake, misspeak, chide, chortle, even lunge two and more directions at once, all of that without a sign of detriment to himself or his voters’ devotion to him. Eventually realizing there might never be a drop in the polls, the uninformed went away in bewilderment (only to come back for more) saying, “Never has anyone done or said anything like this before. Surely this is as close as I shall ever come to a miracle in my lifetime.”
To the misinformed, those who thought they knew what they knew; to the critics of his character; to those immersed in the law; and to those who calculated adherence to every jot and tittle of Robert’s Rules of Order in addition to slavishly fulfilling their self-imposed requirement of endearing themselves to Boehner, McConnell and later Ryan would eventually, someday, somewhere result in some crack or crevice of some remote corner of some branch of government, help them win at least one tiny, little victory against the “feudal medievalist” inside the gates of the White House. To that group the Donald was kind in his message. That is not how the misinformed reported it. But at least the informed knew for the present election, “tough love” was the only love available or suitable. In an act of selfless, unfettered love for his critics, an act that can only be explained as a mystery shrouded in a mystery, Trump singled out the misinformed’s most prominent leader. Doubling down, he repeatedly called him a liar, “Lying Ted.” And when Ted after the Indiana Primary was shown not to be gaining, they his loyal followers, swallowed up in their visibly shaken and distraught condition, suddenly witnessed a blinding flash of light as he the following day acquiesced defeat. In their resultant condition of an ever growing and festering darkness and dread his voters remain to this present day, hoping, perhaps praying for a better deal.
Update: At last word this group is still just sitting there, on the grass, hungry again.Tags: Christ Donald Trump Jesus