In what has to be the greatest con in American presidential electoral history, I feel as if I am at the Mad Hatter’s tea party in Wonderland where the Mad Tweeter, Donald Trump, is being honored for winning the Electoral College vote while losing the popular vote.
Seated to the Mad Tweeter’s right are three of the grown Children of the Con. Daughter Ivanka keeps pushing The Donald’s hand off her thigh. To his left are scowling Melania, young Barron who looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else and a very bored Tiffany.
Between bites of Trump Taco Salad and Kentucky Fried Chicken, The Mad Tweeter is reveling in his fantastic victory over #Crooked Hillary and that he may not or may have her locked up. “We’ll see.”
He waves off the Doormouse, who is pouring tea, and sends the March Hare for a bottle of Trump Champagne to toast himself for being so amazing. That immediately calls for a series of tweets to keep the Trumpeteers up to date. Done with that, he launches into jabbering about how amazing people are (those that voted for him, that is), except when they aren’t (like Alec Baldwin).
A break for more tweets and retweets, then it’s on to how he’s going to make America great again. He pats himself on the back for saving 700 Carrier jobs (at a cost of $7 million to Indiana taxpayers) and look how many jobs have been created since he “won” the election (might someone tell him that the jobs, as miserable as most are, came into being while Obama is still in the White House?).
Then there is the Wall he is going to build, maybe build, maybe just a partial wall or a fence, whatever . . . and Mexico is going to pay for it.
Obamacare is going to be repealed. Well, maybe not all of it. Just a little tinkering here and there, if anything.
Social Security and Medicare are safe. Maybe not so safe. May privatize some or all of both.
The smug smiles of House Speaker Paul Ryan, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell and Health and Human Services Secretary nominee Tom Price, seated at the far right end of the table, as they were gleefully plotting how to get rid of all three and Medicaid, are replaced with a shocked look.
As The Donald turns to how he is going to further bloat the military; that he’s against war, except when he’s not (gonna wipe out ISIS) and China needs to be put in its place (a few nukes?), the generals, the ones he’s already chosen and the one in waiting, David Petraeus, who are salivating over completing the military takeover of the US, wildly applaud him.
I am seated across from the Mad Tweeter. My head is spinning as I try to keep up with what The Donald has been saying one minute, then reversing or half-reversing or whatever the next. To my left is Scottie Nell Hughes, a political commentator for CNN and the political editor of Right Alerts, who tells me his empty rhetoric is “truth” to his supporters. She adds, “Everybody has a way of interpreting them [his utterings] to be the truth or not true. There are no such things, unfortunately, as facts.”
Huh? I opt for a glass of Trump Champagne, hoping to calm my head. Awful stuff, but since there are no facts, that isn’t a fact.
Meanwhile to my right, KT McFarland, the new deputy national security advisor, is prattling on about how great torture is and she’s all for it because “it works.” It doesn’t. McFarland then goes on about how she wants the government to crack down on whistleblowers; WikiLeaks and Julian Assange to be declared terrorists; Assange to be extradited to the US and stand trial before a military tribunal; and laments that the charges against Chelsea Manning weren’t upped.
I catch a snatch of Betsy DeVos, The Mad Tweeter’s pick for secretary of education, telling Elaine Chao, transportation secretary nominee and wife of Mitch McConnell, how she plans to make Christianity a part of public education, i.e., when she isn’t destroying godless public schools.
Just then I see Rudy Giuliani, sitting with empty chairs on either side of him (must have been for Mittens Romney and Chris Christy whose invitations were withdrawn), get up, walk behind The Mad Tweeter, who’s tweeting again, and dive under the table. Curious, I look under the table and see Rudy buffing The Donald’s shoes with a linen napkin.
Now if only I could wake up or find my way up and out of the rabbit-hole.