Revenge of the Turds

Donnie and the Threats

Donald F. Trump, drawn for the Boston Globe back in the days when there wasn’t a hope in hell America could be stupid enough to make him president.

Having given considerable effort over the years to confirming and reconfirming that no one cares what I think, here’s what I think.

Yes, it’s true that I’m deeply cynical about America’s continued decline into Third Reich Lite (half the calories, all the taste). How could I not be? I lived among the Waffle House patrons of the not-very-deep South for fifty years, studying their snake handling and fried dirt recipes like Margaret Mead at a Clemson scrimmage. And after years of watching corporate republicans replace art, science, and history in the public discourse with Storage Wars and Honey Boo Boo, after seeing the black-helicopter ramblings of AM radio conspiracy gurus achieve basic-cable legitimacy to further stupefy their pistol-packing electorate, after watching the Freedom Bubbas’ cosplay insurrection at the behest of their Depends-swaddled, twice-impeached, bleach-injecting, pussy-grabbing, Putin-puppet president, with no demonstrable show of adult, institutional intellect powerful enough to staunch the flow of any of this infected cultural puss, cynicism is about all I can muster.

I’ll grant you, the 34 counts are not nothing. And I can’t blame anyone for remaining hopeful that the judgment of the law still means something significant, antiquated though that seems in modern America, a debtor’s prison with an exceptional proliferation of “get out of jail free” cards.  But there’s an implied suggestion in that hope that the Trumper faithful will simply admit defeat, remove their red caps, scratch their blinkered noggins, and mumble, “Well, gol dern, I reckon them libtards was right about him being a no-account.”

Clearly, the opposite is true. His persecution only further sanctifies him among the Myrtle Beach vacationers. There can be no defeat, only ascension to his rightful place on the throne. Because – and this is what I ultimately want the starry-eyed hopefuls of the American left to understand once and for all – Donnie is not a “con man.” He hasn’t fooled anyone into thinking he’s a righteous, competent leader ready and willing to guide America to greatness. It’s not that they love HIM; it’s that they hate YOU. They’re not voting for Trump’s success; they’re voting for your suffering. And your faith in the law won’t stop them from achieving it.

I’ve known these jabbering corndog gobblers my whole life. They don’t really believe wrestling is real; they just want an excuse to put you in a headlock to prove you wrong. These foothill tongue speakers and flyover creationists cling to bigotry as their guiding principle, and YOU, who do not attend their prayer services, do not display the correct haircut or skirt length, do not worship law enforcement, and do not vote with tribal fervor are not merely to be banished but painfully punished. They don’t want family values, they don’t want peace through law and order. They want the streets flowing with sweet liberal tears. And Donnie, as you may have noticed, has promised them exactly that: vengeance served daily, with full television coverage, against his enemies and theirs.  

If you’ve ever watched newsreels of Hitler and Mussolini, strutting and screeching like rabid hysterics, and wondered, “How on earth could anyone have believed that guy was a competent leader?”

They didn’t. That’s not what they were voting for.

- A.H.

(And let’s not forget Ashley’s website, jam-packed with portraits and other drawings, his highly-affordable prints and books currently available, his eagerness for your portrait commission, and his contact email, thrdgll@gmail.com, where he longs to hear from you.)