|Will he be President Trump or Scaramouch?|
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality...."
--Lyrics from Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody"
In the waiting room at the dentist's office, I saw the latest copy of People magazine amid all the rest of the usual suspects. The cover featured the words "President Trump" writ large, with a photo of the man himself. It seemed like a perfect fit, almost as if it were hawking a new TV drama coming soon. Then, with a start, I remembered: it's the real deal.
Everyone is still stunned, as am I, that Donald Trump will be our next president. That Donald Trump. Forget the slogan being chanted by the protesters, "Love Trumps Hate!" Much more appropriate is "Trump Trumps Everything!" How did this happen, we all wonder. Face it folks: we did it. Not just Republicans, but every single American contributed to this history-making moment.
Really, it should come as no surprise that a culture that celebrates the Kardashians with their plastic boobs and butts sticking out of and stuffed into their designer clothes, and that smarmy, twerking Miley Cyrus twisting the morals of pre-teens, and the army of bimbo news babes with their low-cut leather dresses exposing thigh meat right up to those pussies no one is supposed to think about, let alone grab, and reality TV shows exploring the vapid lives of bored housewives in the country's richest zip codes has finally, naturally and what-else-would-you-expectedly chosen a billionaire TV celebrity with a show-stopping personality and not a lick of government experience as the nation's Top Dog.
You may not have voted for him, but trust me, you played a part. Now live with it.