It speaks to how stupid this era is that the best option may be to let people suffer for their mistakes. Starbucks might not be overpriced and bitter next time, so let’s drink eight bucks worth of stomach rottenness to test again. The question that’s plagued Republicans since doom won enough primaries will be answered soon enough. We’re probably screwed whether conventioneers keep or ditch Donald Trump, but let’s argue about parachutes before the ground arrives.
Fighting amongst ourselves is a nice change of pace. We’ve been getting along too well. At least the debate about whether Republicans should violate the Prime Directive will intrigue us through cosmic despair. Should we make voters cope with their hideous decision or attempt to save ingrates who aren’t about to embrace the life preserver just because they’re drowning? This party needs an intervention. But it may not deserve one. Enjoy searching for meth in the dumpster with GOP pollsters.
The irksome optimist would note we know the practical effects of an impractical man demonstrating what happens when bull hits reality. Painful consequences don’t make civilization’s worst possible election better. Convincing rubes of success through superficial gold despite constant trips through the mud is different from trying to get 270 electoral votes. At this rate, Trump is fighting for 270 votes. How many Twitter users have “Aryan” in their bios?
It’s tough to put together a competent campaign, which is partly why Trump will never do it. The main reason is because he’s him. We’ll eating Trump Steaks in his Plaza before he figures out there’s a right way to run and his way. Calling any dissent “dumb” is one method for attempting to inspire voters. The 70-year-old infant will bitch no matter the result, so it may as well be preemptive.
Remember that everyone wants the same thing. Specifically, neither we nor Trump want him to be president. He’d secretly be relieved that his lark has been extinguished. Unless he’s being this much of a buffoon without realizing it, the lamentably presumptive nominee has been daring the party to call his bluff. So, someone note already that he’s not even holding cards. Trump’s inability to play poker is why he couldn’t keep a casino open. It can’t be emphasized enough that the oaf who won’t shut his mouth about his vague success lost money running games stacked in his favor. Beating the Clintons won’t be easier than bilking retirees determined to plunk away pensions.
Take what’s his and let him put on a show. The wrestling candidate can throw a staged fit publicly before clandestinely thanking a picture of himself for an answered prayer. Invent an excuse. He has very important business tasks to address like counting the bills in each board game, a time-consuming titan’s task which understandably would mean he couldn’t follow through on the losing-to-Hillary thing. Let him save smirking face by issuing the reason of his choosing for dodging what even someone as delusional in braggadocio as he is must recognize will be humiliation on a USFL scale. He may appreciate experiencing something as novel as dignity.
Trump is not going to be president whether or not he runs through the election. Make it official now and give a grownup a chance. Deep down, the 70-year-old baby will appreciate being forced out via eminent domain. Let him announce he wants to praise Saddam Hussein with his family. The Party of Rubio can mercifully not make him go through with it. Unlike the Trump Shuttle, this nomination can still fly.
There may not be enough time for an adult to run a campaign. But progress is presently at zero and holding. An actual conservative who’s gotten worthwhile things accomplished as an executive like, say, Scott Walker could put forth a better effort in a sprint than Trump could eating donuts at the start line while bragging about the 4:50 miles he’s about to run. Let him yap while others work. After all, that’s the inheritance beneficiary’s specialty. Let’s see how efficient a campaign can be using the college rule of getting work done in whatever time’s available. If your term paper is due in two hours, type faster.
You know circumstances are bad when Mitt Romney seems like a savior. But any human with manners who vaguely thinks government might be a little too nosy would be a blessing in this crummiest of years. The Tangerine Messiah’s fans may nonetheless feel alienated by usurpation, so good. The nasty runts who put out lawn chairs to reserve spots to watch the wall get built are going to remain hateful, so it may as well be while slipping in a semipro contender. Having something taken is the only way his fans will learn to behave.
Cite the do-over principle. America needs a restart. Otherwise, brace for the ultimate poser blaming a conspiracy when he loses 96 percent of states or a shadowy cabal for making his presidency atrocious if he somehow wins after Hillary gets arrested for shoplifting. The perpetually wronged purported winner will tweet endlessly and semi-literately about what might’ve been. Let him crab while we have a fun convention for once by commandeering this back. We’ve earned a little mirth, especially if upheaval means a chance to not vote for a constitutional stain. Trump doesn’t want to see the nomination through and would be relieved at the chance to retire to his black glass fortress. Let’s take it anyway.