What really matters to Donald Trump.
My grandfather The Barber used to subscribe to Esquire magazine for his shop. While my brothers were getting their buzz-cuts (so that Grandpa would have plenty of time to artly trim the locks of his namesake), I read the magazine, not quite sure if the nuns at St. Philip’s would have a problem with it. All I recall is that I DID read the articles and learned more than a 12-year old should know about being a man in the 1960s. I also learned something about great prose and what it looked like.
I still subscribe. Grandpa would be proud. Today in my email “The Esquire Classic Team,” whoever they are, reminded us of the many profiles and interviews they’ve done about Donald Trump.
At the top of their list was a circa 1980s profile by Harry Hurt III in which Trump says, “You know, it really doesn’t matter what they write [about you] as long as you’ve got a young and beautiful piece of ass.”
I wonder how that would look on a Trump bumper sticker? I’d edit it down to “Trump, a beautiful piece of ass.” My version, I think, gives us the true essence of this narcissistic ego-maniac. He really means that he has a beautiful ass. I’m not one to judge, but perhaps the Log Cabin Republicans, who’ve been pretty much left out of Trump’s version of America, could weigh in on the issue?
Try this link.
The past few weeks I’ve taken a break from writing about Hillary and the campaigns. Sanders and most of his followers bored the hell out of me. Not much of what they had to say rose above the juvenile rants that I made during my own sordid activities as a McGovern supporter back in the early 70s.
Let me give credit where credit is due: Trump might be a psychopath, but he’s entertaining as hell. It is even more interesting to me that his most ardent far right supporters are also mentally ill. Many of them have come to this web site to vent their anger about that horrible woman, Hillary Clinton.
Vent away! I enjoy the comments. Whatever you do, don’t let facts get in the way of your opinion. The mud-slinging is far more entertaining when it derives primarily from your psychotic fantasies about liberal women taking over the country.
It wasn’t always pretty and was sometimes darn right baffling, or inept, or just plain strategically tone-deaf, but Hillary’s campaign appears to have gotten it done and secured the Democratic nomination. According to the Associated Press, when superdelegates that recently switched to Hillary are included, the former First Lady, Senator, and Secretary of State finally has won the democratic nomination.
Speaking as someone who worked on the street in New Hampshire for her campaign, I still have bitter memories of seeing her lead over Obama in 2008 disappear like fog drifting down wind from the Presidential Range into oblivion. I know some people always kept the faith and believed she would eventually win. The logical half of my brain assured me the Dems would never nominate a has-been Socialist like Sanders, and saw in Hillary a woman who was ready to run a country competently, humanely, effectively. But that other half of me – the half that got let down once before, and remembered her first attempt at healthcare, the messy marriage with Bill, the stonewalling about legitimate questions about her and Bill’s financial deals — that person was frightened it would all come undone again.
The one thing that kept me believing in the campaign was Hillary herself. She has not always surrounded herself with the best and the brightest. Trying to ignore Sanders when he first came after her was insane (Marketing Warfare: “ALL competitive moves must be blocked — and the sooner the better”). But I never doubted Hillary herself. However, they fucked it up, she would fix it. She always fixed other people’s messes. She will when she’s president.
Not sure about that? Go ask Bill Clinton.