Before I sign off for the summer I thought I’d post a final final (yes last week was supposed to be the final) quickie. And I know the heading sounds like an H. P. Lovecraft story but this contemporary tale of woe does fit something eldritch and inexplicable, barely describable.
It occurred to me, in all the fluff, drivel, hokum and swirling detritus surrounding the man no one can ignore, no matter how we try, that there’s one simple thing we need to understand about this malformed, shambling, chaos merchant and its this -
If Trump were to become a multi-vigintillionaire tomorrow, it would not be enough to fill the void where his soul should be.
Like Musk (and lesser manifestations such as Farage in the UK) and other creatures who walk among us fuelling hate, poisoning the well of humanity, exhibiting meanness, abusing women, revelling in spite and bigotry, stirring conflict and encouraging the worst impulses of the human race – the nothingness of the man is unfillable.
Trump is a black hole sucking in all that is good and wholesome leaving a path of destruction in his wake; from Iran and the global economy to the ridiculous mess of the Reflecting Pool and the devastated White House, from the women he’s abused and the racism he’s normalised to the children who’ve died unnecessarily due to aid and welfare and medical aid cuts. From the US citizens murdered by ICE to the babies incarcerated in cages, separated from their parents on the Mexico border he has left nothing but a trail of misery.
If we believe he and his ilk cannot consume us all in this oh so consumer world, we are mistaken...