♪ When I work, baby, you flirt around acting all so bad
You think I’m dumb enough to buy that line
You think you got me had
Well, I ain’t that dumb and, baby, you ain’t that bad
— “I’m Mad,” Reverend Horton Heat
So much of what Trump, his administration, the judges he and Mitch McConnell crammed onto the federal bench, and his legion of indicted, convicted, and unjustly pardoned enablers do saddens and dismays. The other stuff simply enrages.
A lot of what could angry up the blood actually flies under the radar until it happens and sets people’s teeth on edge because the other harmful, malicious acts create pressing constitutional crises that erode the pillars propping up no-caps liberal democracy and republican governance.1
The latest example of this that left your fill-in Friday PT host pig-biting mad merited blink-and-missed headlines on Aug. 17, 2020. The Republican National Convention petitioned the National Park Service for a fireworks display at the base of the Washington Monument after Trump sputters to the end of his bellicose decompensation on the final night of the upcoming Republican National Convention.
That profanes everything about anything composing American mythohistory. Bad enough that an event like the RNC created to express and foster unity might as well carry the brand of Burning Crosses Man Festival.2
President General Washington explicitly told U.S. politicians not to accrete into political parties. The Mall and its fixtures belong to all the world, not a single faction. Etc. and so forth.
Dot: Are you trying to pick a fight?
Yakko: Will you get out of my face‽
Dot: Well, you’re always in my space
Dr. Scratchansniff: Hey get off each other’s case. Because we’re trying to get along.
— “I’m Mad,” <i>Animaniacs</i>
Speaking of Reverend Horton Heat, Jim Heath and the boys performed at the 2020 Sturgis Rally last week. And Sturgis exists in South Dakota, which houses what Anglos people call Mount Rushmore. Which Gutzon Borglum, his son and their work crews profaned by carving four crudely rendered heads of dead U.S. presidents.
The Mountain Formerly3 Known as Six Grandfathers served as the backdrop for a positively unhinged campaign harangue from Trump this past July 3rd. Which, defying all laws of metaphysics, profaned a profanation by violating the Hatch Act, presaging the mockery of Washington’s warning of partisanship, cluttering up the nature beloved of Jefferson and Teddy Roosevelt, and reminding Lincoln that Trump assumed the mantle of a Republican. One half-expected to see a three-quarters completed bust facepalm.
♫ I said I’m mad (I’m burnin’ up)
You know I’m mad (I’m burnin’ up)
I don’t have to tell you I’m mad (I’m burnin’ up)
I’m mad with you yeah (I’m burnin’ up)
I said I’m mad (I’m burnin’ up)
Yeah burning yeah (I’m burnin’ up)
I said I’m mad (I’m burnin’ up)
You know I’m mad, oh baby I’m mad
Oh I said I’m mad, you know I’m mad, oh baby I’m mad ♫
— “I’m Mad Again,”4 The Animals
Allow Uvular to stand as the last opiner to opine that Trump possesses a reverse Midas touch. He turns everything to shit.
Unfortunately, Trump also displays a terrible two-year-old’s mania for putting his grimy paws on everything. He somehow, someway even broke the United States Postal Service. Move over sleet. Trump will stay those faithful servants.5
But, and here Trump turns his real trick, he never buys what he breaks. Four to six bankruptcies,6 losing many very bad people mountains of money, a massive loss of the popular vote, an actual impeachment … . He keeps of grifting like the N-or-gizer Bunny wearing a Trimex while hawking Magnetvox televisions.
Which reduces Uvular to spewing profanities. Curse along in the comments. You know the words.