Everything about Donald J. Trump is pornographic – his language, his actions, his lifestyle and even his appearance.
This is not so much a judgment as an observation.
Personally, I have nothing against pornography. It can be fun to observe or even to actively indulge in – but with moderation. Much like a great bottle of wine, a pitcher of margaritas, or an episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians.
But to indulge in any one of them on an endless loop daily would profoundly affect one’s psyche – not to mention one’s physical self – and ultimately not in a good way.
For instance, I know I’d put a gun to my head in you strapped me in a chair for hours at a time seven days a week and forced me to stay current (kurrent?) with Kim, Khloe, Kourtney, Kylie, Kendall and mom Kris.
The fact that I even know all of their names makes me want to shoot myself.
This is what Trump is doing to the country. Well, half the country.
Okay, 3 million more than half.
Maybe 4 million at this point. Though I might be overestimating. A diet of pornography will do that to you. Everything feels…well, bigger. Or at least more orange.
The point is, the majority of us do want to shoot ourselves. Or someone.
Don’t deny it. The thought has crossed your mind and more than once. Where the (metaphorical?) bullet goes depends on whether you are a masochist or a sadist, a pessimist or an optimist. But the perverse urge to misbehave in some very, very VERY obscene way is there. How could it not be when every day we’re treated to a new episode of Donald Does _____XXXXX_____.
The Justice Department?
High School students?
Or just any Woman in his way or with whom he has had his way? Or not.
Though certainly not the NRA. That much we can take to the bank(s). Which are doing just fine, and probably financing a whole new group of American made steel and aluminum McMansions even as we speak.
Do I sound bitter? Certainly, not! Why would I be? I have health insurance, a job, a 401-K and better interest rates than my parents ever dreamed of. And I’m in the top percentage of earners in the country. What more could I possibly want? And, have you listened to yourself lately???
Okay, I will admit to some rage.
I carry it with me in traffic as I curse the person with Arizona plates driving in front of me in beautiful urban Los Angeles, sure that they voted for Donald Does while living in their own aluminum and steel faux McMansion – which is nestled on the corner of a golf course that doesn’t let in Jews or Black people.
I’m not proud of this. But at least I’m aware. Though I’m not sure if that means anything. Certainly not that I’m even close to being fully #woke. Or want to be.
More than one person in the last year and a half has told me the Trump presidency feels like a dream – either in the sweet or nightmare scenario, depending on what their political stance was at any given moment.
Well, that makes sense. There have been studies that say pornography can greatly increase and/or influence our dreams – even boost our fantasy libidos – because it stimulates dopamine in our brain. That’s the neurotransmitter responsible for giving us a high. Like a good bottle of wine or a pitcher of margaritas or….
Okay, I wont say it. But I will say this —
In some cases this is a good high and in others this high is WAY TOO GOOD and makes us an addict.
You may say: But Chair, this doesn’t make any sense. Donald Does gives me no pleasure. He doesn’t make me high. He makes me angry. It’s not the same.
Really??? So you never…hate watch???
Now I’m not saying our/my addiction to hate watching every move on Donald Does is making us/me into what we/I have become. (Note: And oh yes, reading episode and/or weekly recaps counts too).
Nor am I saying hate watching Keeping Up with Donald Does is NOT making us into just that..
I am only observing/actively indulging in the idea that the Opioid epidemic is not the only insidious addiction currently ripping apart the fabric of our country.
And that we might consider in this newest class of Opioids, the only solution is to refuse to buy it. And then come together to take the damn thing off the market, at which time it will be destroyed (Note: Either by us or by self-immolation) and/or put under lock and key for good
Think of it as a human assault weapon, not a toxic reality show, that has somehow managed to cleverly masquerade itself as porn.