I’ve been trying for the last couple of days to wrap my head around, well, fucking everything. Yes, there are the ways the coronavirus pandemic affects me personally and professionally (I’m not just a tenured liberal professor; I’m the tenured liberal chair of a whole goddamn department). But I’ve been trying to get used to the idea that if this turns out to be even a fraction of the crisis that it may very well turn out to be, the ignorant, barely literate goon in charge is going to make it far, far worse.
To say that Donald Trump has been flailing about like brain-damaged squirrel is an insult to all those brave squirrels with brain damage. After lying about COVID-19 for weeks, his speech on Wednesday night was the rhetorical equivalent of a shitty older brother being forced to apologize to his little sister for ripping the heads off her dolls. He doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t really give a shit about her feelings, and, given the chance again, he’s gonna rip off more heads, but, hey, fine Mom, here’s an apology: “I’m sorry and go fuck yourself.” (Trump would never utter the words “I’m sorry,” but go with the analogy.) The cascade of lies and misstatements was so reprehensible that I’ve actually heard from people that some of their MAGA cretin relatives have finally lost faith in their Orange God. But, then again, they’ve been gobbling shit from his bleached anus for years now, so I don’t trust a fucking word from their brown-stained mouths.
