Waiting for the Drumpf to Act Beyond . . .

Maybe it’s just me. I am of a seriously advanced age, don’t you know. That age, beyond which few of my ancestors ventured.  So, maybe too many things now scare me, seeing as how I seem to be facing my own mortality on a daily basis.

But really, would you trust Donald Trump with the nuclear codes, or even with the decision authority to drop a bomb on Afghanistan. Yeah, that big motherf#*#er he dropped the other day. Well, technically he didn’t drop it. Some air force general told some pilot to fly over a specific spot and let loose with that hell.  But the Drumpf? Well, he doubtless told the general to do it.

I guess Trump was getting tired of being criticized all the time about his Russian mafia connections, so he decided to drop some really big bomb on a target someplace—so many targets, so little time.

But see, that’s where I have serious problems with this idea that we gave this idiot the authority to do something like that.  We know he suffers from narcissistic personality disorder as well as sociopathic personality disorder. I’m also pretty sure he suffers from advanced, untreated ADHD, which I connect to the seeming fact that he does not appear able to read, or write (beyond 140 characters).

So, those three things seem to me to be disabling conditions. He is like a really whiny 6-year old with the conditions described above. He doubtless is always on the verge of doing or saying something stupid and even dangerous. Now, were he still 6, you wouldn’t give him a gun and tell him to go play on Second Avenue would you? Yet, we give him nuclear weapons and entire armies of guys and gals who know how to point and shoot real weapons.

See, mainly, I wouldn’t give him the authority to carry out the garbage, because of the likelihood that he would somehow screw it up, and dump the garbage all over the floor, or maybe the street.

I keep thinking. Suppose Theresa May, or maybe Boris Johnson says something snarky about him, like, “oh, yeah, but Trump is not a real conservative. What the hell were the Americans thinking when they put him in charge?” Now, he reads that, or worse, listens to it in a commentary on the Faux News Network. And then he begins whining. “Oh, yeah, well I am too. So, how would you like one of our 12,000 pound bombs dropped right on top of your fancy-schmanzy Parliament building? Hey, General . . .  go drop one on them.” Who would stand up to him and say, “well no, Mister President, that would be illegal. We cannot drop a bomb on our British allies without cause.” Who is there around him who might dare to tell him No?

So, aren’t we just biding our time until he manages to do something so catastrophically awful that one of his kids tells him to knock it off and come back to The Empire?  Ivanka . . . are you prepared for this?