The Bilious Incongruity of Trump’s Toilet

The past week should have proven beyond all doubt that we do indeed have a semi-literate malignant narcissist in charge of our country. I’m not sure that we’ve ever had a president without a bit of that inclination; those in power seem to always spring from that fetid pool, but this time it seems to have a clarity that only those in denial can’t see.

I heard that a local around here said Trump is a good thing for the nation because “he doesn’t play by rules”. This is true. Rules are for college students mired in debt, not guys with gold toilets who strategically utilize bankruptcy…what, 40 times now? He promised to keep his hands off certain safety nets which he is gnawing on with his tiny, sharp incisors. Rules such as telling even a modicum of truth are not observed by Trump. He’s King Gaslighter, the man who made “Idiocracy” an unwatchable documentary. The ugly brutish side of Empire is at least clearly on display. Andrew Jackson is tattooed on the ass of the ass for all to see.

They say that the poor are more likely to extend generosity to others, despite being the least likely to be able to afford it. A thought is that this is due to a need for reciprocity, and a natural inclination for communal benefit. This is a concept that the 1% do not need to cultivate. Why assist friends when you can buy sycophants? Why nurture a loving long-term relationship when you can purchase a newer model (sometimes they malfunction and slap your hand away twice, but no mechanical device is perfect). The hollow nature of these interactions are probably only realized on the proverbial deathbed.

The great tragedy of it all is that most people do not want to be cruel. They are manipulated into a fevered notion that somehow the poor deserve a life as only a commodity. It is a difficult thing to encourage these beliefs, but we’ve had marketing experts at it for a very long time……. like since the first food was locked up in an attempt to bring about excess labor for the few. You know, jackasses on stone fainting couches—someone fanning them with ostrich feathers. I’m pretty sure that was what it looked like. Hey, even the army has difficulty getting killers out of the kids they bring in. It’s a science to encourage these unnatural impulses. Most shots fired are said to be aimed to miss. When given the chance, soldiers often play and share with the enemy as they did during WWI at Christmas—all it took was for the brass to be away from the front-lines (they were in town enjoying the holiday).

This is not to say humans don’t have the capacity for incredible cruelty, but in most instances, even the most deranged acts of war derive from an escalation of inhumanity, and the desire to protect the new family group that forms among soldier peers. The elite, the Trumps of the world…..they know this. They amassed fortunes from the exploitation of these basic inclinations to do a perceived good, and for these young individuals to protect those they care about. As we talk about this, those who have benefited from the manufacture of weapons of war continue to push for enhanced punitive measures, whether it be clownishly named murder devices like the “Mother of all Bombs” or simply arming rebels who will likely turn on their benefactors rapidly. But they will still perpetuate chaos, which in many instances, is the real goal. Life forms like Henry Kissinger ooze next to those in power, D or R, and whisper rationales that salve any leftover form of conscience.

The media focuses on touching glowing orbs (which honestly was pretty fucking weird) and then salacious bursts of murder video from a concert that pulled in so many adolescent girls. But never a panel that rationally discusses how to stop these events without escalating the violence and creating a growing tower of retribution and hate. And that’s because it feels good to hate without reason, to not consider the why of the situation. There’s no existential crisis in that. One can feel like a monster truck mud flap, casting away all the mire while being fully a part of it. Filthy and dull-witted, maybe have a curvy girl with you in the muck on your flap.

I think away from those we’ve allowed to be in power and consider the kind souls who exist because I don’t want to suffer from intractable vomiting. There are those out there with simple wishes—individuals like Riley Hancey and his family. He died not long ago after being denied a lung transplant because he had marijuana in his system. After a delay, he did receive a transplant from a more decent facility, but it was all too late. “In his honor, we ask that you take a moment to do a random act of kindness for someone” —that is all that his family requested. I know the connection is tenuous, but I have to consider if we all do this, even extending some kindness to the souls in denial about the cruelty coming from those in power, then the erosion process can begin. The hateful build-up that will do nothing but enrich individuals so out of touch that they think it is appropriate to crap in gold toilets and pretend to eat strings of pearls for photo shoots….all this when kids in Flint have no clean water. Kids in Gaza…well, hell they don’t have much of anything—except maybe shrapnel. Syrian children continue to drown in boats propelled by their parents despair. The worth of a human has to be measured in the lives touched and the experiences had in our very short time here, not the work the Trumps of the world can extract from us to gild their hollow existence. This bilious incongruity has got to end.

Kathleen Wallace writes out of the US Midwest. Her writing is collected on her Substack page.