T-Rump Not Funny Any More, Too Large A Horrible Threat

February 23, 2024

Sunshine amidst thin-clouded skies this early-evening Friday here in California’s Central Valley — end of quite a beautiful day and a warm one, too.
Summer might be abnormally early this year.

As is a lot of shit. Although he seems like a fat, bloated moron without a semblance of sense and morals, T-Rump does carry weight, but it’s the same-old, same-old. He’s been a lying asshole since forever, but now he’s just reaching a demented plateau of dumb.
Tomorrow is the Republican primary in South Carolina and this afternoon T-Rump was full-bore shitfaced prepping his followers for election fraud at a get-out-the-vote rally in Rock Hill, SC: ‘“We are coming like a freight train in November … There is more spirit now than any time anyone has ever seen in any campaign.”

Another dollop of biggest/best ever — a lot of his shit doesn’t change:

Just to cover the legal ass — defamation needs a high-priced disclaimer:

However ‘mentioned,’ lying is still a legal no-no. T-Rump is fine, we love him, he just can’t be believed and we could lose a shitload of money because he ‘mentioned’ the lying and the lies. WTF!.

And a bonus bitch of bullshit lying:

This bit from five years ago at The Washington Post on all that manly-man crying:

For a president who once said he viewed crying as a form of weakness, it is notable, if not surprising, whom Trump lauds for tearful emotion and whom he mocks, considering the crying anecdotes fit somewhat into Trump’s pattern of exaggerating, inflating and making things up out of whole cloth for his base.

“I’m not a big crier and you know, not somebody that goes around crying a lot,” Trump said in January 2016 when asked whether he has cried. “But I know people like that, I know plenty of people that cry, they’re very good people. But I have not been a big crier.”

And even with a laugh, T-Rump is not funny, and he’s not a subject of any form of humor. He has a zero sense of funny and we all should have a zero sense of anything humorous about the dangerous, horrible piece of shit.
Writer David Kamp, longtime contributor to Vanity Fair and author of “Sunny Days: The Children’s Television Revolution That Changed America,” notes the serious, un-funny nature of T-Rump’s nasty threat to America’s future in an op/ed last month at The New York Times — focal point:

By now, many of us have had a good chuckle at Mr. Trump’s ridiculousness: the talk of injecting bleach into the bloodstream, the hand gestures that make him appear to be playing an accordion. But the stakes are too high to treat him as a figure of fun — and I say this as someone whose foundational story as a professional writer involved concocting Trump jokes. We need a moratorium on making fun of Mr. Trump.

For one thing, ridiculing Mr. Trump is no longer an effective tool against him. Like some kind of cyborg insult comic, he’s developed a knack for absorbing and redirecting the barbs hurled his way. He internalized and weaponized Spy’s tactic of using belittling epithets, propagating such nicknames as “Crooked Hillary,” “Sleepy Joe” and “Cryin’ Chuck Schumer.” He pulled a similar trick with the term “fake news,” which was popularized by Jon Stewart as a lighthearted description of “The Daily Show.” In Mr. Trump’s vindictive mind, “fake news” was reprocessed and deployed to mean media outlets and news coverage that he doesn’t like.

What’s more, in the Spy magazine era, Mr. Trump was just a local nuisance, a braggart presiding over a foundering casino-hotel empire. When he reconstituted himself as an entertainer, starring in “The Apprentice,” he began to pose a danger of a different magnitude.

The media would often dismiss him as just another kooky TV personality, despite his racist assertions that fanned the flames of the anti-Obama birther movement. For years, he benefited from prolonged attention without real scrutiny. People treated him as spectacle and failed to take him seriously, even when he ran for president. In 2016, Les Moonves, then the chairman of CBS, exulted in “the ride we’re all having right now,” telling an audience at a business conference that Mr. Trump’s political ascent “may not be good for America, but it’s damn good for CBS.” Whee!

Suffice to say, Mr. Trump’s victory in 2016 sobered up the yucksters real fast. Yet it did not spell the end of Trump-based humor. Arguably, we needed that humor more than ever — the Alec Baldwin version, the Anthony Atamanuik version, Mr. Johnson’s — as a coping mechanism during the chaotic Trump presidency and its immediate aftermath.

Had Mr. Trump shuffled off into quiet exile like Richard Nixon, maybe we could continue to find him funny. But he remains his party’s leader. He’s still spreading the lie that the 2020 election was stolen. He’s ratcheted up his rhetoric, labeling his political opponents “vermin” and promising vengeance. Now is really, really not the time for yet another bit in which Mr. Trump is portrayed as a nutty blowhard who overuses the words “frankly” and “many people are saying.”

I realize I run the risk, in making this case, of looking as if I’m missing the whole point of political humor in a free country. Isn’t laughter what gets us through our darkest hours? Isn’t one of the purposes of satire to shine a light on the folly of the wicked and misguided?

Well, sure — in normal times. But not when the foundations of our democracy are under threat from a former president who wants to be a dictator on “Day 1.” Charlie Chaplin boldly satirized Adolf Hitler as Adenoid Hynkel in his 1940 film “The Great Dictator,” capturing Hitler’s twitchy body language and toddler petulance as adeptly as today’s Trump impressionists nail their guy. The difference is that Chaplin, an Englishman who made his name in America, was operating from a position of moral strength. His adopted homeland was the world’s beacon of democracy, while the guy he was sending up ran a country that had gone terribly wrong.

This time, we, the United States, are the country that runs the risk of going terribly wrong. The Hynkel-ing is coming from inside the house. So let’s treat this situation as seriously as it warrants.

Serious as a heart attack, as they say,

Lying asshole, or not (lie! Of course, a lying asshole!), yet once again here we are…

(Illustration out front: ‘President Trump,’ by Jonathan Bass, found here.)

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