VOTING FOR FOOL’S GOLD
In April of 2014, the porn industry’s biggest stars gathered in Las Vegas for the “eXXXotica Expo,” just as they had done the previous year. On vivid and open display was a festival of debauchery, the details of which the reader will be spared.
The Expo was held at the Trump Taj Mahal.
Trump apologists will immediately recoil and fashion excuses for such a thing, or relate how his personal behavior is to be compartmentalized from his glorious declarations of wall-building and Isis-killing.
Whatever merits the Trump doctrines hold, the kidnapped elephant in the room still lurks, its unavoidable shadow casting a pall over the self-righteous fervor of Trump adherents.
The record of Trump behavior, as well as the pages-long list of policy flip-flops, belies the character, or lack thereof, of a man who simply cannot be believed or trusted.
Trump devotees, starving for a champion to take up their cause of border closures and illegal immigrant removal, throw any vestige of sanity out the window, blindly and dutifully following, in fine Pavlovian fashion, any suit at the podium who will bark the decrees they wish to hear. It is red meat for the wolves, water for the parched.
But the water is from a poisoned well.
And that matters, my friends.
This is not a debate over policy. This is to pause and reflect on the standard bearer of same. Behind all the banners, hats, chants and worship of the Golden one, sits the Book of Trump, the record of facts about the character of a man his parishioners dare not open.
And if anyone else does, these keepers of the gate immediately dismiss and demonize them as crackpots, or worse. How dare you shine the light on He Who Shall Not Be Questioned? He preacheth the truth! Away with you, disloyal recusant!
These deluded souls are blind to the truth, their ears refusing to hear any account which may besmirch the Chosen One. He is their Jesus, their present day messiah who is going to save America from terrorists, establishment politicians *cough*, and the hordes of illegals who are, uh, taking our jobs.
Trump apologists can flail away all they like, but the truth remains that he remains an opportunist supreme, one who was for partial-birth abortion, then wasn’t, was for Hillary Clinton, then wasn’t, who praised Nancy Pelosi, then didn’t, who donated to a myriad of Democrats, but doesn’t.
Well, I mean, he doesn’t now.
And to a man with such a splendid record of duplicity, we are to cast our lot, because he will never, ever do that again.
To blindly, wantonly, wholly devote oneself to such a charade of a man is to expose one’s own lack of thoughtfulness, to say the least. Trump devotees are the very definition of the mob who preferred Barabbas to common sense, the latter being cast away like last week’s palm branches.
If I sold Amway, I’d want their home addresses.
Every four years, voters sell their souls to the devil, and America continues to get what it deserves.
But not to Trump voters.
© Copyright 2016 Tim Holcombe