Prestidigitation

There Is No Trump But Trump

Believe on it – and ye shall be saved. The Shining

The key to “understanding” Trump is Norman Vincent Peale, the minister and author of “The Power of Positive Thinking.” Few know that Rev. Peale actually officiated Trump’s first marriage, to Ivana.

People wonder how Trump can so blatantly lie in the face of defeat and call it “victory.” How he can swear on a stack of Bibles that he is the greatest President since “maybe Lincoln.” How he can declare himself a “pussy-grabber” on camera and still be elected President.

It really irritates them, especially the folks who talk about news on television.

It is because “facts” are not only inconvenient to Trump’s way of thinking – they are irrelevant. He believes in a higher power. He is a higher power. Newsreaders refuse to acknowledge this, despite the overwhelming evidence of the election itself.

He recognizes that emotion, appearance, desire, and prestidigitation will trump rationality, reality, acceptance and substantiation, every time.

Bill Clinton understood this – Hillary Clinton never will. In Mrs. Clinton’s mind, her superiority in all things is self-evident: to her peers, to herself, and to most if not all voters. She knows that, left to himself, her husband Bill could never have gotten himself elected President the first time, let alone twice. Without Hillary, Paula Jones and the boobulous bimbo-choir would have prevailed. And that Bill believes that as well.

Only those poor unfortunates known as ‘deplorables’ fail to understand Hillary’s autobiographical hagiography as being non-fiction. It is written.

And so in the election of 2016 voters were presented with a choice between two delusional candidates… each sharing one incredible hallucination: that one of them was “better” than the other.

To the sane, honest, rational public – this fact was as plain as day. The candidates too each believed it passionately. The oracles at SyFy predicted landslides and tsunamis.

But only Trump recognized the more obvious, greater fact: that there was no sane, honest, rational public. And that if there were – Jill Stein would be President today.

Hillary’s hallucination was that a President Trump could not exist. She declared it to be so and so it would be so. Atheists all over the world agreed with her. There is no Trump. Trump is dead.

But hallucination is where Trump lives, it’s where he grew up, he knows hallucination like the back of his hand. He split his time between the gardens of Eden at Mar a Lago and in the stratosphere at Trump Towers before the election.

With Ivana, Marla, and Melanie.

Where did Hillary live?

Hillary lived in Arkansas, with Web Hubbell, Vince Foster, and Bill Clinton. Now Trump adds The White House to his terrestrial constellation (although he considers the latter to be “a dump.”) The President’s wife Hillary stole the White House silverware when she moved out.

Who is hallucinating whom? That’s what Trump asks us to answer.

Turning shinola into water – and then walking on it – is what Trump does for a living. The fact that he is being crucified by the public today reminds Trump of only one thing: that one day soon, he will be rolling back the stone, castigating ye of little faith… and ascending.

To heaven, where he will sit at the right hand of Putin (whom Democrats assure us is God.)

Inshallah, and soon, one hopes.


Posted in: Trump