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Desiring Trump?

Something is happening to me. I’m not quite sure what it is, but it feels like a mutation. No, it isn’t visible, at least I don’t think it is. But… while I still find him utterly disgusting, completely nauseating, part of me is beginning to feel attracted to Trump.

I don’t know how it happened. While I took as much sanctimonious delight as the next person in watching him spew inanities, and condemned his racism and sexism and xenophobia, I never found him attractive before. On the contrary, like so many others, I found him ridiculous and revolting. Maybe it had something to do with the humor he displayed when that bootlicker Jimmy Fallon tousled his orange, sugar spun hair on TV. Or maybe it had something to do with being exposed to the humorless Hillary Clinton (even her laughter is humorless) one too many times. Glaring, emanating her imperial hubris from some TV screen, Hillary is also radioactive. And maybe it’s the effect, a symptom, of a type of radioactive Hillary overexposure, but something happened. I’ve begun to mutate.

Maybe it’s because Trump is an absurdity, and it’s hard to take absurdities seriously. I mean, who can really seriously imagine him making good on his inarticulate threats of building a giant wall? Who can seriously imagine anything that’s immediately contradicted? But Hillary? She is very serious. And it isn’t hard at all to imagine her not only launching airstrikes and wars but berating those who don’t support her for doing so (because, you know, others would launch even more extensive airstrikes and wars). Perhaps it’s because of this, or maybe it’s something else. Maybe it stems from a sort of psychological disease that seems to be devouring the brains of the people of the planet, but she disgusts me, repels me, much more than Trump does. It’s practically physical. And though I find them both so abhorrent, and I want them both to lose, I want her to lose more. That is, I’m starting to want to see him win.

No, I don’t want him to be the president. I don’t want anyone to be the president. Why do we even need a president? Do we have to have yet another president? Haven’t we already had too many? But with every condescending, entitled statement issued by Hillary Clinton, or her supporters (and all of our cortexes are being roasted by these transmissions), I find myself desiring Trump a little more. Maybe it’s just resentment, pure and simple, but as of today, I just want her to get her comeuppance – to lose. Let the whole country, and the whole world, burn, as long as it destroys her, too. Now that they tell us that Jill Stein is a pipe dream, and that we have nothing to look forward to but a life of debt and death, that’s the only thing I want (that I desire) to come out of this election. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not going to act on it. I mean, I won’t cast a vote for Trump. Or, who knows, maybe come November I will. Maybe I’ll mutate into one of those secret Trump voters. I hear there are millions of them.

Peter Berllios, a theorist and artist, lives in Brooklyn. peterberllios@yahoo.com