I was never right at any moment in time about how this election campaign would end. I truly could not envision a man as crass and simplistic as Donald Trump winning the Republican Party nomination for the presidency. The GOP? The party that gasped when Nelson Rockefeller died atop a much, much younger (thankfully female) assistant? The party that felt good about that Republican cloth coat?
But I was so wrong. There were factors I neglected. There is the American Idol craze, combined with the Reality Show craze, all cranked to the nth degree by the I Would Die if Only I Could French Kiss Brad Pitt One Time illness. And I forgot the rich part. This is a country that supposedly disdains wealth. Pocahantas — by this I mean Elizabeth Warren — scoffs at material pursuits, but doesn’t spurn a major salary, no doubt amped with news of her American Indian heritage. (I know, native American, but that’s a lie. They came from Asia. How apropos. We will probably end up Asian, too.) Hillary Clinton’s entire existence is given over to worship of Baal. And Donald Trump is almost the image of rich — his virtue is, he camps it up. He’s not rich, he’s sooooo rich. I love it. So much more refreshing than Mitt Romney’s “aw shucks, I never meant to be rich” approach to his brilliant business successes, even as in one of his gazillion homes a multi-story garage elevator shipped up and down his fantastic cars.
So it is the Donald. And I have no choice but to back him, and back him I do. I’m even beginning to like him. The more those cretins on the left pile on, the more I like him. The more Hillary flails, trying to reorient herself in her surroundings and the Donald slings his arrows from all directions — the more I like him. The more the Republican snobs pose like The Thinker, pondering whether to support him or not — the more I like him. Hey, Paul Ryan: get the hell out of the position you hold in the Convention. It is the only honest thing to do. Even Jeb Bush has started moving to an endorsement position. If the GOP sits this one out, kiss your sorry butt goodbye.
I won’t even bother to predict who will win the election. As twisted as our country has become under the rule of the left, I don’t trust the electoral system. Don’t trust the machines, or the owners of the machines, or the patrons of the owners of the machines that count the votes. Don’t trust states that say they are going to let just any old body vote in the presidential election. Any state that doesn’t secure the vote should be declared ineligible to participate in the national elections. All this means, I have to really support Trump. Because the whole Democrat strategy is based on illegal voters. All those bastards setting our cities on the edge when they are criminals for even being here. This is the future if we don’t do it this time.
And I’m not even sure Trump will carry out the promises he has made. Some of them seem utterly unachievable. I do know this. If Clinton gets in the saddle, scores will be settled and the law will be laid down, and the First Law is The Benefit of the Clintons. It will be corruption crossed with egomania and psychosis and piss-poor judgment. People who regularly commune with people dead for many years and who routinely lie in public fora about things the whole world knows are a lie definitely lie within those spheres. And this country will never ever return to the golden years. It will be a slow hemorrhage of our national treasure in fruitless wars, and a disintegration of what remains of US social accord.
Above all I am praying that Donald Trump will really be the maverick he claims and begin in foreign relations to draw back from the suffocating tangle of defense treaties and imagined “red lines” that are now drawing us ever closer to global war. If he gets in the clutches of the “US Number One or War” clique, we’re done for.
Bring the troops home. Gut the regulations. Set us free.
It’s up to the Donald.