There’s bone spurs between his ears.
That’s the only logical explanation for Trump’s behavior. There has to be some sort of blockage prohibiting him from acting honorably and conducting himself like a shaved baboon. But there is no arthroscopic surgery to remove these spurs. They have long calcified over. The man leaching his way through American history is the man we always knew he was.
A liar, a thief, a thug and a reckless maniac. A banana republican in expensive suits and long ties. The kind of person who’d steal your pen, corner your wife and berate your children. Craven and unhinged. The sort of fellow you’d hate to sit next to on a cross-country flight and the man you’d dread date your daughter.
Prior to his first foray into politics, I was always fascinated with Donald Trump. I remember his first book, The Art of the Deal, and the idea that he was the richest man in the country. He famously backed out of a game of Trumpagainst Bob Stupek, stakes: $1 million, and bragged about his business acumen. I’m from Nevada. We always rooted for Stupek.
I thought he was fabulously wealthy and the kind of mover-and-shaker that young Turks emulated. He seemed to have the right thing to say at the wrong time, but people loved him. But I saw through this. Even at my most sycophant, basest level, I knew he was no good. He cheered the World Trade Center crashing into Lower Manhattan, he accused Obama of not being an American and he couldn’t take a joke—even though everything from his family to his wealth was such.
Trump has been and will always remain a snake oil salesman. A duke of fluff, an ambassador of lies, and the king prince of smoke and mirrors. A man without principle or spine. The last to help you move into a new apartment, the first to laugh when you drop a tray of dishes and someone who has never held the door open for another person.
How bad was his childhood? What was he deprived that made him into this monster? Was he molested by the older boys, laughed at by his father or shamed with inadequate genitalia? Who hurt Donald to make him unbearable?
I blame privilege, a lack of structure in his youth and a defective moral compass.
Young men need structure. They need to rough house, wrestle, get dirty, explore and tinker. They need to read, listen to music and watch movies. They need to long for things out of their reach, be it gifts, trips, girls or treats. They need to build callouses on their hands, bruises from the playing field and friendships that last a lifetime.
Trump has none of this.
He doesn’t exercise. He lacks curiosity. He can’t feign interest in anything that doesn’t directly benefit him. This is what makes him a bore. This is what makes him perplexing. This is what makes him dangerous.
Consider this: Jamal Khashoggi wasn’t just killed at the behest of the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia, he was dismembered…with a bone saw…at an embassy. There’s no denying the royals did this. Things clearly would have been different if Khashoggi’s last name was Smith, he didn’t work for the Washington Postand Trump views nothing by dollar signs when he deals with the Saudis.
This should have been the easiest decision made by a modern-day president. You condemn the Saudis. You send in the Fifth Fleet. You cancel every military contact with them. You threaten a bombing raid scripted from the very worst parts of The Bible and you make them sweat. Reagan would have done that. So would have Obama, Clinton, Eisenhower, hell, even Nixon. You stare down thugs and threaten them with the beating of a lifetime if you want change.
But the facts are in: Trump doesn’t want change. He wants dollars. He’d rather be on the wrong side of history than blow a deal.
He’s alliances are not with the military or even the American people. It’s with the stockholders. He still thinks the presidency is a synonymous with being CEO. Trump doesn’t treat the citizens like stock holders, but as suckers, outsiders and losers.
Because he is not a student of the office, he is condemned to repeat every error committed.
He was never ready for the job. And he never will be.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I’m spending it at a small family gathering. I’m grateful to have people I love and to spend time with those that love me. I’ll be afforded the head of the table and we’ll share a lovely meal. I’m grateful for this. I’m fortunate to have these people in my life. There will be shared cooking and cleaning responsibilities, and hopefully one too many glasses of wine. And in the end, I hope we’ll be pleased with our time together.
This is simple meal and the joys that come with it escape Trump. He has shown repeatedly he cannot understand the importance of friends and family. He’s a hammer, the world is a nail and he is the world’s worst carpenter.