Monday, 16 January 2017

STRANGE LOVE or HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE THE DON

Saviour or nutter? Maybe both...


When Trump won the presidency I thought what all realist Right-wingers thought; Thank Christ it’s not Clinton. Apart from anything else, her ascension to the rotting throne of the USA would have meant that the three leaders of the West’s most powerful nations would have been women. Merkel, May and Clinton. It would have been like the opening scene to Macbeth. And this does not reflect a hatred of women on my part. Marine Le Pen and Frauke Petry represent hope for France and Germany respectively. But Clinton? She and her sinister husband seem at first glance the perfect couple for the modern political world. Smart operators, deadly if crossed and utterly corrupt, corrupt to the core, like a rotten tooth somehow clinging to the gum.

But the world got the Donald. After the realisation had set in – which it still has not for the Left – the next question was; What the hell is he going to do? The man is a maniac, an egoist, a louche billionaire who might just see the presidency the same way as Orson Welles saw being a film director, as being given the biggest train set a boy could have. He’s got The White House, the executive order pen and the nukes. Head for the hills. And yet…

Firstly, you have to look around and see who despises Trump, and how you feel about them. Let us begin with the media. A gaggle of lockstep Leftists, lickspittle courtiers who thought the sun shone out of Obama’s arse. And not only do the media despise Trump across the West, but he is making no attempt to heal the rift. Quite the opposite. He’s cutting out the MSM and speaking directly to that nemesis of the Leftists, the ordinary person. Mark up a point to Comb-over Boy.

Hollywood. This narcissistic, self-absorbed nest of preening mediocrities hate Trump as one, with a handful of obvious exceptions risking their ability ever to work again with some vocal support. Take a bow the great James Woods. If a bunch of stupid actors and actresses hate you, I love you, simple as. And if I were a serving female officer in, say, Afghanistan, I would have choked on my rationed chocolate when I read the description of Meryl Streep as ‘brave and defiant’ for her scripted attack on the President Elect. Again, point to Trump, nil points to that piece of chit Streep and her craven comrades. The reason McCarthy didn’t find any genuine communists in Hollywood is not that he was looking in the wrong place. It’s that he was looking in the wrong millennium.

The Republican Party. The election was pre-programmed as Jeb Bush versus Hillary Clinton, with Bush losing with a quiet dignity, the Republicans able to indulge in some fake jeering as their country fell apart, but still plenty of pork in the barrel to pay for an endless supply of wing-tipped shoes. Didn’t work out that way. And the Republican party is not going to forgive Trump for winning. When you see the gaggle of recent presidents who will not be attending Trump’s inauguration, the two Bushes are among them. That shows you the depth of hatred. Obama, Bush I and II, Clinton and Carter don’t come to your inauguration. Wow. That’s like having your gig snubbed by a Toto tribute band. Three to Trump.

Gormless fucking Yanks. Here in Costa Rica, I am unfortunate enough to be surrounded by dozens of these half-witted fuckers, braying their political ‘thoughts’ in bars and giving new credence to the old saying that opinions are like buttocks in that we all have them, but it is not necessarily a good idea to air them in public. If I had heard one more Yankee praising Clinton’s ‘record of service’ before the election she lost despite trying her best to rig it, there would have been murder most foul. Record of self-service, yes. I had thought the average Brit was politically incompetent, but the north American average puts any London street-sweeper on a par with John Locke. I would have left Facebook – or LongFacebook – some time ago if it wasn’t for the pleasure of popping over there and catching the whining, moaning, fake-news-saturated tears of these uncomprehending Democrat bastards. And the Donald continues to rack up the points.

Finally, the glorious Left itself. I have gone, in recent months, from seeing the Left as people to point at and laugh to people to shun and avoid. They are different from me. Not morally, I hasten to add. Politics and morals are oil and water, or magnetic poles. They repel one another. It’s about who wins. Being childless and irreligious, I personally couldn’t give a fiddler’s fuck what happens to the West. I’m sitting in the rain forest with my two hounds and I’ve got a gig tonight, so let Berlin and London and Rome burn. Doesn’t bother me. But I hope the Left are made to pay for their crimes, for trying to replace their hated whiteness with something far, far worse.

So the best of luck to Donald Trump. He has made a lot of people I despise bitter and angry, or rather more bitter and angry than they already were. He won’t have an easy time of it, of course, especially if the deep state has him killed. Imagine the Leftist glee if Trump gets a Dealey Plaza Special. That is what could kick everything off. Keep your guns oiled and clean, crackers.




No comments:

Post a Comment