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more great stuff at driftglass:
The dark carnival that is the Trump Campaign continues to limp onto the ash heap of history by butt-scooting it's crackpot theories and racist demagoguery all over the hallowed ground of Gettysburg. I'm not sure which Trump brain-wizard decided that the sight of a doomed racist cause making a suicidal charge into the teeth of overwhelming force was the very best metaphor on which to begin the final chapter of the campaign of their unhinged orange fire demon, but I hope they got their money up front.
I was such a demented ramble of Trump's angry, random notions, disjointed conspiracies, tangentially related grievances and physically, financially, temporally and constitutionally impossible claptrap tarted up to sound like "policy" that I could not track it all, but here are my notes, such as they are...
Trump is doubling down on every batshit lie he has been running all along. Go, lemmings, go!
Dead Man Ranting
Remember how Lincoln kept barking "Believe me! Believe me!" after the dozens and dozens of outrageous lies he told on this hallowed ground?
I will direct my Secretary of Commerce & Legitimate Businessman, Charles Ponzi, to do many amazing things. Believe me!
I will direct my Secretary of Imaginary Science, Trofim Lysenko, to pull "Clean Coal" out of his ass. Burn it all now, people! Without the Commie EPA who shall stop us! Believe me!
I will direct my Secretary of Homeland Security, Crazy Joe Arpaio, to arrest my political enemies. Believe me!
I will direct my Secretary of Deregulationism, Jack T. Ripper, to hit the Undo Obama button eight million times on my first day in office. Believe me!
I will direct my Secretary of Trump Math, my son Uday, to make 2+2 equal whatever I damn well say it is. Believe me!
I will direct my Secretary of Propaganda, Steve Bannon, to bring the fucking hammer down on the free press. Believe me!
I will direct my Secretary of Doubletalk, Hugh Hewitt, to follow me around with a pooper-scooper and a giant shit-eating grin. Bigly! Believe me!
I will direct my Secretary of Illegals to protect us from the cybers by only letting in people who love us. With talents this is possible ("Talents"? like "Now the weight of gold that came to Solomon in one year was six hundred three score and six talents of gold") Believe me!
Apparently Trump's end-game strategy is to flummox SNL writers by overloading them with material.
Let the media race to find the last "Undecided" voter in America begin!
As grotesque and horrifying as all of this is, don't let any of your Conservative friends or colleagues get away with feigning shock or surprise or that Trump is some freakish Black Swan event.
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