The true tragedy is that Donald Trump and the sad sack groupies who have their noses firmly buried in his ass have been nothing more than a cruel, sick though consequential joke this whole time.
He’s behaved as if his words and actions don’t matter, have no consequences. He pleads ignorance, tries to distance himself from, yet somehow condone, the bad behavior he instigates. He is a sad sack impostor whose presence has been nothing but a huge distraction. A time suck, a life suck.
It matters not at all that he’s viewed as a mere symptom, as if this gives him an out, an excuse since he’s just a manifestation of more serious illness that was already festering before his arrival. The maddening fact is that he’s still making noise and won’t go away. He’s a poor sport with the emotional maturity of a fifth grader. He uses people, he doesn’t respect them.
He may run for President again, not because he cares about America or feels he has something to offer, but because he’s still sore about losing in 2020. More significantly, it’s a way to avoid prosecution for, among many other things, the insurrection he fomented on January 6, 2021.
He’s always in our face, running from the law, spending a lion’s share of any given day being ugly and annoying, fighting accusations, figuring out ways to avoid responding to a subpoena, finding lawyers who will actually choose to defend him. And he behaves as if it’s all in a day’s work.
His supporters will indignantly ask why their hero seems to be so put upon, so often in the crosshairs of law enforcement. They refuse to acknowledge, or choose to ignore, that he’s brought all this on himself—because of the way he’s decided to live his life: as someone who’s better and smarter than everyone else. Entitled, deceived, and delusional. A legend in his own mind.
Someone who, sadly, is not worth the time and effort we’ve been expending trying to figure him out. There’s nothing there except outsized and debilitating selfishness. What more do we need to know?
3 Cents' 