Trump’s grasp of reality is fading and fading fast. The only things fading faster are those that continue to prop him up, but as long as they can continue to leech off of him, they’ll keep him as their front man, even though he can’t sing the lyrics in order any more.
I don’t need a debate on the mental state of the decaying orange convicted felon/child rapist. I’ve lived long enough and seen enough to recognize when the marbles start rolling around the wrong way on their way to being lost, careening into one another loud enough for outsiders to pay attention.
If Trump ever was the sharpest knife in the drawer someone lost the whetstone years ago and all of that orange makeup has sure obscured whatever dull edges there are on the blade. Trust me, I have no sympathy for the man. He’s cut his own swath and deserves whatever stains he’s left along the way.
I’m not trying to be mean or insensitive to any one, older or younger, who suffers mental issues, especially those that come with old age. It happens. It’s always tragic. I will not hesitate to be unkind to any of those around them who take advantage of the situation, especially when they try to hide it in something as important and grueling as a political contest.
This isn’t the first time (but it is the most recent-of this election cycle) that a political party has propped up a faltering candidate or office holder. I’m not arguing that all of those suffering the beginnings of a decline should be removed from office or disqualified from running. What I’m curious about is how those who do the propping up justify their own humanity in the face watching someone they supposedly care about continue to humiliate themself in public for something they believe to be a greater good.
When life becomes transactional, too many checks get written that will never be cashed.
Image by arzualtincicek
You can find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.
Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3 