Trump’s National Gallery Portrait is an Abomination

“The National Portrait Gallery, which is overseen by the Smithsonian Institution, swapped out an older portrait of Trump for the current one.”

Atlantic

The black-and-white photograph of President Trump on display in the “American Presidents” exhibit is a perfect representation of our current president.

The power-hungry Trump achieved the pinnacle power, represented by his hovering presence over the Resolute Desk situated in the Oval Office. Attaining the summit of Mount Olympus did not bring him satisfaction, as evidenced by his stern expression.

In the photo, he gazes downward rather than at the camera, appearing thoughtful. Is he considering ways to tighten his control by undermining the judiciary, limiting Congress, and eroding our democratic safeguards?

Trump is leaning slighting forward with the posture of a gorilla; his knuckles firmly planted on the Resolute Desk. Like a gorilla Trump engages in chest beating and intense roaring to assert his dominance.

The black-and-white photograph matches how the authoritarian leader has drained vibrancy from society.

Unlike the other portraits in the gallery, which include lengthy evaluations of each presidency, Trump’s portrait only lists the photographer’s name, his birth date, and his time in office.

History will have plenty to say about the absolute corruption, incompetence, and criminality of the Trump administration.

Boomers to Gen Z: TMI

Boomers value privacy and hold different beliefs from younger generations. We value privacy over sharing and discretion over transparency.

I never shared any mental struggles, financial problems or family issues with my coworkers, friends, or acquaintances.

I never explained my social awkwardness by sharing that my mom was neurotic and my dad was emotionally distant. Family issues stayed in the family. The only family dysfunction I discussed with my friends were the family dramas that played out in the Jerry Springer show.

Unlike before, if you are arrested for public intoxication or solicitation during a Vegas vacation, your mugshot will now appear online. What happens in Vegas no longer stays in Vegas. In the old days we had the luxury of keeping certain things private.

Gen Z and Millennials openly discuss topics like anxiety, therapy, salaries, sex, and addictions. They coined the term “TMI” but clearly do not understand it. They chronicle their lives on social media via tons of photos and videos. To find out what our younger family members had for breakfast, what their workday was like, or who they spent time with at night, we do not need to hire a private investigator, we just need to check their Facebook page.

Youngsters, please keep in mind that we have a different vibe; your openness makes us feel uncomfortable, awkward, and anxious.

Word of advice: TMI!

Trump Has Nobody for Emotional Support

POTUS is said to be increasingly looking to his wife, Melania, for guidance and emotional support during his second term as president.”

MSN.com

Donald Trump deliberately and systematically filled his Cabinet and administration with grifters, sycophants, and loyalists, who can be counted on to praise his every crazy utterance and support every one of his unconstitutional, and unethical policies. He can rely on them to kiss his fat ass, fluff his flaccid penis, and burnish his tarnished image.

The narcissist has just enough self-awareness to realize he has dementia and in need of a confidant for guidance and emotional support. The moron has just enough brains to realize that he is not going to get any practical guidance or emotional support from his cynical and self-serving staff.

In desperation Trump is increasingly looking to his trophy wife, Melania for guidance and emotional support. Melania maintains a separate residence in New York City and rarely makes a public appearance with him. She swats away his hand whenever he attempts to hold her hand, and she fires an icy stare whenever he attempts any public show of intimacy. He might as well seek emotional support from a blow-up doll.

Trump is a sociopath lacking any empathy and devoid of any charisma, there is not a single person in D.C willing to offer him any emotional support.

He has only two options: get a dog or commit suicide. I hope he chooses the latter, and not the former.

The ‘Happy Trump’ Lapel Pin

Donald Trump is a sourpuss, a grouch, a crotchety old man. When he attempts to smile, the best he can manage is a grimace. The sociopath makes the Grinch look like a goodwill ambassador for the United Nations.

If a miracle happens and he smiles one day, it will be misfortune that befalls an enemy, and not something good that happens to him that will make him finally crack a smile.

Someone, who apparently knows Trump very well, gifted him a “Happy Trump” lapel pin. If anything can make the narcissist smile, it is a likeness of himself that he can wear on his lapel.

The pin features Trump with a cartoonishly large head and open-mouthed expression, notably the “Happy Trump” is not smiling.

Trump who admits that “he’s never happy, never satisfied” was bemused by the lapel pin. The “Happy Trump” lapel pin will likely be sold at a high price once monetized by the grifter-in-chief. When he makes millions from this novelty pin, then he will smile.

We Must Get Rid of Trump Now

In the first year of his second term Donald Trump has already done irrevocable and incalculable harm to our democracy, frayed our relationship with our erstwhile allies, and embraced our implacable enemies.

America cannot survive three more years under the fascist buffoon. America is a police state that summarily executes migrants and protestors, and an international bully that bombs and invades weak nations.

Donald Trump must be stopped. Now.

Donald Trump, 79, has myriad medical issues: senility, cankles, hand bruising, obesity, wobbly gait, incontinence, and high cholesterol. His detractors fervently hope that his dementia and chronic illnesses portend an early death.

But consider that former President Jimmy Carter lived for years with brain cancer before finally dying after 22 months in hospice care. We cannot count on the Grim Reaper saving us from the fascist Trump regime.

We cannot count on a constitutional solution to end Trump’s tyranny, a Senate and House infested with MAGA cultists will never impeach Trump or remove him from office via the 25th Amendment.

How can we get rid of Trump now?

I call for a general strike where workers across all industries and sectors simultaneously stop working to halt economic activity until Trump resigns. I call for tens of millions of Americans to demonstrate and protest until our country comes to a standstill. I call for patriots to treat ICE not as law enforcement officers who must be respected and obeyed, but as Gestapo thugs who have earned our disrespect and enmity.

Wake up!

Trump Es Pura Mierda

When some unspeakable, catastrophic or disgusting evil befalls, you blurt out “shit”, no other word will suffice. If a drunk driver plows into your car, you do not utter a mild expletive like, “Oh, Poop”, you scream, “Fucken Shit.”

An unspeakable evil has befallen our erstwhile great democracy; Trump’s fascist regime has corrupted the judicial, executive and legislative branches of our government. The stench of decadence permeates every aspect of our society.

When we are spiraling into a dictatorship, only a fool or a coward would use euphemisms to describe the current sorry situation. Don’t refer to Trump as complicated, compromised or conflicted. It behooves us to describe him as a steaming pile of human shit, with a mouth that looks like a cancerous sphincter and a neck that looks like a diseased and prolapsed vagina.

If you have the misfortune of stepping on dog excrement, it’s incumbent upon you to yell, “shit.” It is your civic responsibility to warn others, lest they also step on it. We must alert our fellow citizens that our country is shit thanks to Trump, so they will join us in our battle to fight fascism.

When you smell shit it means that you inhale gases that make you gag and sometimes vomit. Fools who support Trump are infected body, mind and soul with his noxious ideology.

We would be well-advised to give Trump and his followers a wide berth, we don’t want to be close enough to smell their bullshit.

Boomers: Put Down Your Smartphones

We are cognizant of the problems associated with children being addicted to smartphones: suicidal ideation from doom scrolling and cyber bullying, sexual dysfunction from consumption of hardcore porn, social awkwardness in public from being immersed in a digital space and social isolation from preferring virtual reality to the real world.

But boomers’ addiction to cell phones is a growing concern for the younger generations who wish their grandparents would stick to rotary phones. According to the Pew Research Center, people 60 and older spend over four hours watching online videos.

I don’t mean to be ageist, but old people are deaf AF, and they have their phone notifications at such a loud volume that it that the ping reverberates around the entire house, including the basement and the attic. To add insult to injury the notification is usually for something fatuous like Aunt Betty sending a text to your grandma reminding her it is Bingo night.

Young people with their dexterous fingers and nimble minds are annoyed as hell when they witness their elderly relatives text with two trembling fingers. They have fantasies of crushing their digits with the rotary phone in the geezers’ living room.

Boomers are gullible and naïve and susceptible to manipulation. Witness the tons of shoddily created AI generated news and videos they send their children that they feel validates their MAGA conspiracies.

Parents, you are justified worrying about the ill effects of cell phones on your children, but you also need to be concerned about your screen-addicted elderly loved ones.  

Go Fly a Kite

One of the simple joys that I fondly remember from my childhood in the 1960’s was flying a kite.

April marked National Kite Month, and I eagerly anticipated the cartoon-illustrated safety booklets handed out in elementary school to get us ready for kite flying season.  

A paper kite cost just ten to twenty-five cents, and basic string was about a dime, so even poor kids could afford to fly kites.

There was no need to assemble anything or use batteries, and flying a kite did not require any special skill or physical strength—so even someone as clumsy as I could make it soar among the clouds.

My brother and I spent countless hours flying kites in Marchbank Park, magically located at the end of our block. On occasion my dad would make a kite from a paper bag and bamboo and join us. My father’s kites did not have any cool designs, and the coarse paper prevented them from flying high, but we were thrilled when dad joined us because it was rare for him to spend quality time with us.

You rarely see children flying the simple diamond shaped kites, it is young adults who fly advanced power kites.

People don’t appreciate the simple joy of flying a kite anymore—just look at how the phrase “go fly a kite” is used as slang to tell someone to go away.