August 18, 2017
Twice a day since the beginning of the Trump administration,
the president has delivered unto him a special folder. The first arrives around
9:30 a.m., after Chrump has excreted his morning tweets, and the follow-up,
around 4:30 p.m. These folders are filled with admiring tweets, transcripts of
flattering interviews, and flattering photos of Der Furor – you know, fake news.
The only feedback the White House communications shop, which prepares the
folder, has ever gotten in all these months is: “It needs to be more fucking
positive.” It is easy to see the problem here; no one fawns over Donald Chrump
as much as Donald Chrump. That I can tell you. Believe me.
Some time ago this president told us, “You know, I'm, like,
a smart person. I don't have to be told the same thing in the same words every
single day for the next eight years. Could be eight years — but eight years. I
don't need that. But I do say, ‘If something should change, let us know.’” So,
being briefed on vital security matters of national and global importance is a
waste of his time, but being showered with cherry-picked (fake) praise never
gets old for this doofus.
A Chrump confidant said, “I call the president the
two-minute man. The president has patience for a half-page.” That is, when it
comes to matters not pertaining to how terrific he is. He is happy to have his
considerable ass kissed all day long – or at least twice a day. Chrump is like,
a smart person, but he is more like a toxic egomaniac who cannot hear enough
praise – twice a day…every day…for seven months…so far. Maybe eight years?
The Man Who Loved Himself Too Much
Some examples of the positive news Chrump receives twice a
day, known by some of the staff as “the propaganda document.” I would call it
“the pathetic document.” The most insecure man in the world needs to see piles
of happy talk just to keep him awake, let alone interested in being president. One
cannot help but wonder what will happen when there is not enough “more fucking
positive” worship to fill the yawning abyss where his soul should be.
As a patriotic American I feel I must do my part to keep up
the spirits of the man with his tiny little finger on the nuclear trigger:
I hope this keeps him happy, or at least distracted. Hey,
I’m trying my best.
I. Mangrey reporting.
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