I’ve invoked Plato, George Orwell, Hunter S.Thompson, Ralph Kramden, The Onion, and Thunderclap Newman, among others in my last several pre and post-election 2016 postings in attempting to deconstruct the 2016 campaign for President. Now, in less than 48 hours, Donald Trump will be sworn in as President. Thus I feel it is only appropriate to invoke another “voice” to add to those notables above: Alfred E. Neuman, the fictitious mascot (if you will) and cover boy of the legendary Mad Magazine, a zany comic book, in-your-face satirical publication. All at once, though having been around in American pop culture since the early 1950s, it would seem its raison d’être all along was for this lunatic electoral moment in our country’s existence.
Alfred E.’s motto of “What, me worry?” seems rather ironic, however. The phrase implies that Alfred is oblivious to concerns, be they trivial or tumultuous. Don’t sweat it, Alfred reassures the reader, whatever is going on in the real world, he and his Mad crew will lampoon it and make you laugh it off. Well, Al, with that goofy, gap-toothed grin, misaligned eyes, freckles and outwardly pronounced ears, I know you’ve had Trump teed-up and have taken lots of whacks at him already (as have I and countless other dissident voices) but I DO worry about being able to “not worry” or find much to laugh about right now. I mean, in a matter of just some rapidly fleeting hours, this orange-haired, pompous and disgusting human being is actually, really, really, actually!, going to become President of these United States. You have your work cut out for you at MAD.
My last blog was, admittedly, a political wet dream of President Obama, in his January 13th speech, announcing that due to the extreme likelihood of Russian tinkering in the election to favor Trump, and the blatant anti-Clinton email breaking news, infowars modus operandi of James Comey, the FBI Director, and maybe even alluding to the obvious anti-democratic voter suppression laws in many “red” states, the November 8th election results have been suspended until further investigation. Of course that didn’t happen. Obama, and every other political or media voice that acts as though the election was the “will if the people” or simply the outcome of the electoral college system, and that is the only reality, gives legitimacy to, as House representative John Lewis (at least!) recently opined, this “illegitimate” President-elect.
Aside from the Russians, and Comey, and the voter suppression factor, I was even, desperately, hoping Obama would announce the pending ARREST of Donald Trump on the charge of sexual assault. Hey, can Trump not be seen and heard on video bragging about committing such criminal acts, with numerous women asserting they were some of his victims? What happened to that loathsome episode of the realty TV show called the Trump campaign? It simply became a non-story. Did he pay off these women. What? Can you say Bill Cosby?!
As with all of Donald Trump’s grotesque offensiveness, his polarizing political rhetoric, the fear-mongering, the insults, the cruel and callous attitudes on display under the intense, high-definition klieg lights of the national mainstream media, this man seemingly defies being held accountable, personally, politically or professionally. I mean, this man is one ugly wart shaped in a surreal humanoid form. At least that’s what millions and millions of Americans think (more or less, as a matter of degrees on the downward sloping scale with which his detractors measure the matter).
Indeed, this is the expurgated Republican candidate for the White House. The expurgated Republican nominee for the White House. The expurgated President-elect. And in such a very short time, barring a sinkhole swallowing Mr.Trump’s eponymously named tower in which he still resides for one more day, the Expurgated Commander-in-chief.
Well, not in my eyes, as noted, or the many protests that have or will be taking place, all motivated by a sense of fear and loathing, mixed with outrage and an obstinate refusal to accept the fraud and the farce that will be a Trump administration. It may be wild and crazy. It may be calamitous. Disastrous. It’s certainly quite dangerous. But it is actually, really, really actually! about to become official.
Alfred E. and the late-night Jimmys or John Oliver, Samantha Bee, Bill Maher, and the rest can try to generate some snickers, maybe even a guffaw or two out of what at best is a black comedy. They can all call it The Tweeter-in Chief. An UN-expurgated realty TV show.
Viewer discretion advised. Not suitable for children not still in the womb. May contain content deemed offensive or disturbing. May cause sever headaches. Irritable bowel syndrome. Shortness of breath. Dementia. Feelings of existential dread. Inability to find a reason to get of bed each day. Questioning of the existence of a higher power. Constant puzzlement over one’s own existence. Opiod addiction. Rashes. Blurred vision. Gothic nightmares. Feelings of hopelessness. A sudden desire go over Niagara Falls in an imaginary barrel. See other side for more counterindications…
Well, that’s a wrap. I’m through with blogging about it, really. I’ll try to focus on some less serious matters. You know, dogs that get page 2 obituaries. Jenny Hagen. Our WWII veterans, the greatest veterans from the greatest generation. Travel. Music. All the arts, especially the great series, My Mother the Car, Gilligan’s Island, Mr.Ed, The Living Without Intestines Frontline special, Mr.Robot. No, wait. Skip that last one: may not be suitable for those with a functioning brain, which excludes Trump supporters, of course.