A Crazy Crybaby

Donald Trump is thrashing like a netted eel in the unbearable sluice of losing. His life is draped in black crepe. He is taking crybabyism to new levels of tears. I would say he is the Babe Ruth of crybabies, but maybe the Barry Bonds of crybabies is better because Bonds was a steroid-pumped fraud and Babe Ruth for all his faults was a legitimate American hero.

 

If you go by classic definitions, Trump is also undeniably crazy because he keeps doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. He is nothing if not steadfast in what seems to be his total belief that he won the election – and bigly, at that. He is something like 1 for 80 in ludicrous, proofless, amateur lawsuits that he's going to keep filing as long as they're on the house. Too bad Jimmy Breslin isn't around to comment on this gang that can't file  straight. Breslin peeped Trump's hole card when The Donald was just a punk Queens “developer” trying to sit in with the big boys in Manhattan.

 

Trump's legal “A” team bailed when they saw they were on a crazy train and then he sent in Rudy and the Clownshow to straighten out the election. This was a posse of the perverse: Qanon-spouting women in leopard skin tops, witnesses so high or drunk or just pain nuts that the nation watched incredulously, jaws akimbo, if that's possible. Then there was superspreader Rudy his own very bad self, leaking Kiwi shoe polish or Clairol or axle grease from his pate while he set new levels of low, lying at a spectacularly Trumpian rate.  

 

Of course, the capper was at the Four Seasons landscapers in Philly, where Rudy and Young Don looked incredibly at home spinning lies in a landscape of sex stores and crematoriums. Dig up Hunter Thompson for this one – if he wasn't cremated.

 

All this ballyhooing of the absurd was for the cameras outside court; inside, there was whimpering and the admission that yes, we have no evidence. Judges throughout America – many of them Trump judges, so-called --- heaved these thin wafers of dishonesty out the nearest judicial window as fast as they were filed. The one Trump win netted zero votes. I guess that's a big win when you lose the other 79 or even more by the time you read this.

 

Anyhow, Big Don has always said that he'd take the thing all the way to his Supreme Court if that's what it took to keep the gig and stay out of the can and – lo- and behold – the Texas AG rounds up a bunch of other Repub AGs and some equally culpable Republican congress people and they want the Supreme Court to overturn the election for Trump. They don't even get to bat. The Supremes basically tell them to take it on the Boardwalk. So there it is: end of the line. Jeez, even Putin and Moscow Mitch are admitting Joe Biden won, even if the election was what seems like 47 years ago. Better late than never, I guess, although it does seem a tad rude to wait that long.

 

All this is not to say that Trump is rolling over in that ugly sluice of losing; far from it, he is firing patriots like Chris Krebs and even fellow traitors like the late Bill Barr. He is grabbing money from his loyal moonies – many of them so broke they don't have the time of day – for whatever comes next be it another run or a cable network or something else dangerous for America. And he's telling these patsies it's to finance his overturning the election.

 

Even when he's crying as hard as he is, Trump can still see a good grift through the tears.