Help Me! I’ve fallen and cannot reach my short sword. Yes, I’m contemplating seppuku. I’m that depressed. I didn’t think I could descend this low in the reign of Trump, but his just-completed trip abroad has sent me hurtling deeper into the maelstrom. And the bottom still is not in sight.
Of course, Trump’s lickspittle lackeys (most Republicans and the brighter dull-normal Trumpenproles who watch Fox News) are touting the trip as a great success. Sure, the Saudis gave Trump a Caliph’s welcome with the attendant pomp and pageantry. (Authoritarians get along well with authoritarians, don’t you know.)
Then it was on to Israel, where, with the exception of Trump blurting out confirmation that Israeli intelligence was the source of our knowledge of ISIS’s laptop bomb-making capability, things went smoothly enough. And Netanyahu gets high marks in Diplomacy 1A for his frozen smile during his guest’s unwelcome revelation that he passed along the info to the Russians. (Thugs get along famously with fellow thugs, don’t you know.)
The Vatican? No better than a perfunctory draw, from what I saw. Pope Francis looked ill at ease with Trump, while our reichsleiter, rightly so, looked as comfortable as a whore in church. Only with Melania (a Catholic, I assume) did the pontiff look his warm and loving self.
Next it was Brussels for the NATO meeting and...disaster!—to borrow a word from the fifth-grade vocabulary of our dear leader. First to go viral was footage of his boorish shove of Montenegro’s prime minister out of his royal way.
Getting almost as much coverage was his practiced handshake-wrestle with newly elected French President Emmanuelle Macron, showing the world’s millions who the alpha-male ruler of the sandbox was.
Not yet done trashing the porcelain shop, Trump next turned his wrath on Germany. (Full disclosure: my ancestral homeland.) “Bad, very bad” was his terse verdict on Deutschland, our long-time ally and democratic bulwark in Europe. (The crime? It seems they sold too many cars in the U. S.)
Chancellor Angela Merkel, a loyal admirer of America but repeatedly insulted by our oaf-in-chief, had had enough. She soon announced to her fellow Europeans (and the world) that their fate was now in their own hands and they couldn’t rely on its traditional guarantor of peace and reason...party unnamed but obvious to all.
Damage done, Trump flew to Sicily for a final stop at the G-7 meeting in Taormina. He must have been bushed. When the G-7 leaders walked the quarter-mile distance to the San Domenico Hotel, he went a different way by golf cart. Short of that stamina he bragged about in the presidential debates? Or was it a gesture of fancied superiority over those folks from the uppity smaller nations with their irksome claims to culture? Only The Donald knows.
The biggest question remains, who benefits most from Trump’s Brussels body blow to the 68-year-old NATO alliance that has kept an uneasy peace? I don’t believe Herr Trump really knows that much about geopolitics to assess the damage he’s done. But the guy who could have scripted Trump’s trip could not have fared better. Yep, that’s the oh-so-clever Vladimir Putin. No, Uncle Vlad isn’t Uncle Joe. Stalin starved to death more than three million Ukrainians in 1932-33 alone; Putin’s kills fall far short than that. But give him time and Trump’s continued help and watch him close the gap.
What should you do? Well, you could always seek asylum in Saudi Arabia; just leave your Christianity and your drugs behind. Or head to the Philippines and the open arms of Trump’s buddy Duterte; but definitely leave your drugs behind.
Or you could secede with me and found a new land of liberty, Pacifica.