Shame on Tame Trump

Oh, I know we’re all fervently hoping that it won’t all be one four year long joke, that he’ll step up to the plate with a pinch of statesmanliness (definitely a real word, spell-checker be damned. It’s totally in the dictionary and anyway, people are tired of all the same of words spouted at them by so-called experts. Folk want a change, they’ve been waiting for it so very long so let’s make lexicography great again!) and take the job with a modicum of seriousness.

However, the faint hope that he might actually be any good at governing wasn’t the reason why most people voted for him. Sure, there were those who were won over by the grandstanding and endless posturing. Others simply couldn’t stand Hillary, because there’s nothing worse, after all, than watching someone eminently qualified and downright suitable doing a job you reckon you could do much better. Some voters hungrily lapped up that prejudiced drivel he spouted but the less time and brain space devoted to that the better.

And there’s yet another key component of his support base. Those who, upon presented with an option madder than a box of frogs, gleefully plumped for it and then sat back eagerly so as to have an ideal vantage point for the ensuing carnage. When the unstoppable triggering of an armageddon is afoot, it’s almost comforting to feel that you had a hand in it. You’ll be a footnote in all those ominous history books.

So if he doesn’t get monstrously upset, throw all his toys out of the pram and flail those famously tiny hands about then what on earth was the point? You don’t elect a comedy caricature to office without expecting to get some jolly good laughs out of it. They want him flamboyant and outrageous, sending up the system from within. Not tame, never behaved or contained. That would be simply awful.


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