“guilt spills itself for fear of being caught”
Shakespeare

Ok, so, would appear as though the hens are running that white-pillared mansion down yonder south, as the Rooster’s gone loco, gone, em, er more loco. Sounds like his aides have become daycare workers, wrestling the toddler from sticking a fork in the electrical outlets, and maybe not start-off world war III due to his complete ignorance to world affairs.

So, again, another established old rag is on his sH!t list, with this rare anonymous op-ed and multi-syllable word piece they published today.

Although, I’m not entirely convinced he can actually read, so I wonder who read it to him? Probably has his own ‘reader’, eh? Thing is, his followers are indifferent to the “palace intrigue”, as one voter put it on some vid I watched, and I can attest to that, as my Dad and MsB could give a rat’s patootie themselves.

So day by day, week by week, as he whittles away at the truth, institutions, the environment, and even the very office he holds, still, lashing out, his isolation becomes more profound, slowly eroding what was left of his shaky credibility, and maybe his sanity, if he ever had either in large quantities.

Rewriting the script day after day, living soulless, solely, and only, for himself, for now, with no eyes towards anyones future but his own, and that path can only go so far. I mean, when your lawyers turn tail and hikes it outa dodge, another implicates you in a crime, seriously, maybe a time to question your sanity? Your path in life? Your friends?

Riiiiight. As if. He has too much GREATNESS. Everything’s GREAT.

Yet, as we have seen, he is not capable of acting presidential, and most don’t even refer to him as president anymore, when and if they ever did, and instead he is now exactly a single word, and only that word, he is unable to be more.

He will never be presidential, will never wear that same mantel that others have that came before, and as those faces line up behind him we begin to see the truth of him, his uncompromising nature, too shallow and self-involved to master the sort of courage it takes to lead.

He’d rather build a wall, give the rich more money, line his own pockets, play to his sick, soulless base that desires children ripped from their parents arms, court dictators and russian mobsters, and crooks of all kinds, preferring to play golf, and rant and rave that no one treats him with respect, no respect, from all those haters and fakes that spin out their lies? I guess that’s what he thinks. Not his fault, nope, he’s GREAT.

“There can be no living together without understanding, and understanding means compromise. Compromise is not a dirty word, it is the cornerstone of civilization, just as politics is the art of making civilization work. Men do not and cannot and hopefully will never think alike, hence each must yield a little in order to avoid war, to avoid bickering. Men and women meet together and adjust their differences, this is compromise. He who stands unyielding and immovable upon a principle is often a fool, and often bigoted, and usually left standing alone with his principle while other men adjust their differences and go on.”

― Louis L’Amour, Bendigo Shafter

His shallowness is his greatest weakness, his Achilles Heel, his focus narrow, unyielding, the only image he sees before his eyes are his own desires, doing the same song and dance, the only one he knows, in his own Sideshow Bobness, and all in order to prop up the delusions of his own greatness, preening in the mirror of public opinion, oblivious, whilst his own aides steer him clear of electrocuting the nation he’s supposed to serve and protect.

Funny, that he is so animated towards his own approval, so concerned, and yet, yet, still so oblivious to how to gain any more.