Ciò che possiamo licenziare

venerdì 20 gennaio 2017

America inaugurates its oldest, fattest, least popular president.



by Brian Clewly Johnson


Okay, who said ‘nuttiest’?
These are some of the few facts we know about Donald Trump: He’s 70 years old and weighs in at 236lbs/107 kilos (but according to the long-haired curiosity that passes for his physician, no candidate is fitter than his client to assume the presidency.) Trump's current approval rating is lower than any other president-elect in the past 20 years. 
In Zen terms, Donald is an interesting guy.
I shan’t be watching his inauguration as the 45th POTUS, even though it’s available to viewers on South African television.
Unlike many of my friends, I’m not anxious about this transition. But I am intrigued: how will the man react when reality bites? He capitalized cleverly on the partisan paralysis of Washington government. He energized, as we have so often been told, ‘the forgotten people.’ Many of us now want to see if he can deliver on all the grand promises he made to the ‘deplorables’ – to use Hillary’s unfortunate term.
However, as we say in business, ‘he may be an asshole but he’s our asshole.’ Or, if you weren’t one of the many millions who voted for Trump, he’s their asshole. But we, and the world, are stuck with him,

I truly hope he surprises us, cleans the dirty washing in Washington, rebuilds our infrastructure, gives jobs to the jobless, and ushers in a 21st century ‘American dream.’
In the absence of anyone better, I voted for Hillary. Frankly, though, I’m glad Hills and Billiary, so to speak, have ‘left the building.’ That's not to say that – like Elvis – they won’t be spotted from time to time.
Why, after making all that money in the private sector, did Ms. Clinton think she could return to government as a credible public servant? Time to go, lady; back to your Chappaqua home to count your loot.

As I blogged in July last year, I believe Trump was astounded to win the Republican nomination. l believe this even more as he steps into presidential life. Despite being a man who never shows vulnerability, I think The Donald goes to bed with Melania (I know, I know) biting his use-only-once silk hankie as he contemplates being the leader of the free world.

I agree with those who’ve written that Trump entered the contest because he was annoyed by the humiliation heaped on him by Obama at The White House Correspondents dinner of 2011.
(At that event Obama, having reminded the audience that the Trump-inspired myth of his foreign birth had finally been exploded, suggested that Trump ‘can finally get back to focusing on the issues that matter…like did we fake the moon landing; what really happened in Roswell. And where are Biggie and Tupac?’ Trump listened impassively as the left-leaning audience rocked with laughter around him. It was a roasting worthy of a Texas barbecue.)

But who’s laughing now?

Not the liberal media that – despite its poor record of forecasting who would win the election – is now licking its journalistic chops as it forecasts ‘an epic fail’ by the man many call ‘The Orange Menace.’

Obama won't be laughing, either, as he hands over his awe-inspiring job to the man he ridiculed mercilessly five years ago.
Even Trump, no observer of niceties, won't be laughing. But if you choose to watch, you might look for a well-warranted smirk.

© Brian Clewly Johnson