The man who had been cleared by his very own personal physician as likely to be the healthiest man ever to assume the office of President of the United States flexed his large, powerful hands, his thick, lengthy fingers adjusting his Chinese-made Trump Tie and peered out at the huge crowd in the stadium.
After his quiet nod, lights came alive, and the next leader of the Free World strode out, to the chants of “USA! USA! USA!”
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He stood quietly, modestly, basking in their admiration, love and hopes for the future. Gently he raised his hand for silence and the crowd immediately fell quiet, love gleaming from beneath the brims of their MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN hats- which can now be found on eBay for less than five dollars – and he stared straight ahead, his steely gaze fixed on the battles yet to come.
Everything depended upon tonight’s address to a nation torn apart by all the disgusting things he had read on the Internet; he began to speak.
“Four hundred score and seventy years ago, my relatives landed upon his great, huge place and strove to make it the classiest nation in the history of the world, dedicated to the proposition that all men and women can be Winners.
“We have been engaged in a great political civil war, testing whether I could defeat the biggest bunch of losers in world history to become your nominee.”
He paused as the crowd began to chant wildly, “USA! USA! USA!’ USA!” He let it continue for a minute, and then went on.
“We are met in this super amazing place to make America Great Again, to dedicate ourselves to the idea that, like the United Kingdom just a few short weeks ago, we will take our country back, and build a wall that will be the greatest wall ever built, that I will design myself. There’s nobody who knows more about walls than I do!”
“But, in a huger sense, we can not dedicate this place. The losers I beat, who struggled to even make people remember their names, have consecrated it, far above our power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what any of them stood for, or even looked like – and I want to give a shout out to Little Marco here! – it is for you, the Trumpkins, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which tonight is the amazing culmination of.
Going off-script for a moment, he raised his voice. “I have heard some truly disgusting, horrible things just this afternoon – what my investigators have found out about Crooked Hillary, a woman more evil than Typhoid Mary, Catwoman or Mona Lisa all put together -”
The audience came to their feet, with chants of “Lock ‘er up! Lock ‘er up!”
He smiled and continued again. “It is our job to be dedicated to the great task remaining before us, that in addition to Making America Great Again, that we bring a negotiator to the White House, a man who understands the Art of the Deal – “ and he suppressed his inner rage that folks could now buy hardcover copies of his book for less than ten dollars on Amazon – “and that with these sorry losers who are now kissing my ass, we increase our devotion to that cause for which they destroyed what was left of their political careers, we now highly resolve that these losers did not fall before me for nothing, that this once-great nation, now being led by the most stupid, incompetent people in the world, we shall take it back for God, cuz His book is our favorite book, and shall have a huge rebirth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall be taken away from the those Politically Correct losers who would stop us from Winning!”
Raising his arms above his head, he closed with, “We’re gonna win big! November is gonna be huge!
He made his way quietly, humbly, off the stage, while the more rapturous of his supporters fainted in the aisles, their cries of “USA!” turning into “UUUUUUU . . .” just before they hit the floor.
Backstage, an aide rushed towards him, “Sir, we are getting calls from CNN and MSNBC about your speech.”
He waved his large, powerful hands. “Find me a fall guy! What about that guy who put the air in the football last year. Some janitor? tell ‘em he wrote the speech.”
Department of Lost Souls
Yes, this is satire.
The Cleveland Address was written to the songs on the “My Best Friend’s Wedding” soundtrack.
Now on YouTube: Life is a Museum
An afternoon well-spent at Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed our day there. Life is a Museum: An Afternoon at Crystal Bridges:
Quote of the Day
Any state, any entity, any ideology that fails to recognize the worth, the dignity, the rights of man, that state is obsolete.” – Rod Serling