We have met the enemy
A morning-after pill. Also, a joke.
I went to bed early last night, shortly after the polls closed in California, but I knew what was coming. I just didn’t know how big it would be. Of course, I couldn’t really sleep. In addition to being a convicted rapist and twice-impeached president, Trump hath murdered sleep.
The advantage to being a glass-three-quarters-empty person is that I am never surprised by my fellow humans’ capacity for dipshittery, assholery, and vindictiveness. Still, the likely result of the popular vote in this presidential election is, to put it mildly, depressing.
At times like this I remember something a fellow gym member — an immigrant from Ukraine — said back in 2008, when we learned that Sarah Palin was to be the Republican nominee for vice president. Elena was normally the most jovial and upbeat of gym buddies, but not on that day. “Such a beautiful country,” Elena said with a heavy sigh, “with so many idiots.”
Indeed.
Anyway, if you’re looking for some thoughtful commentary from non-idiots on What Just Happened, I refer you to
(“What the Future Looks Like from Here”), (“I Hope I’m Wrong”), and (“The America We Want vs. the America We Have”). There are others, I’m sure. Mention them in the comments if you’re so inclined.In the meantime, yes, a joke.
A caveat: The joke, like its subject, is crude and vulgar. Close this window if that’s not your cup of wormwood tea.
I heard the joke only once, many years ago — 1990? 1991? — and it embedded itself deep in my brain. The joke was told by Alice Kahn, a nurse practitioner and humor writer (she claimed to have coined “yuppie”) who was also a friend. She had recently published a book and was doing a reading at Berkeley’s Black Oak Books (RIP). The joke, as I recall, had no connection to her book, which may have been Luncheon at the Cafe Ridiculous or possibly Fun with Dirk and Bree.
It’s hard to fathom, but back then, most of us in the Bay Area were at best only vaguely aware of Donald Trump. This was, after all, years before “The Apprentice” (2004–2017) turned a failed casino owner into a “reality” TV star. Trump’s unforgivable attack on the “Central Park Five”1 was still mostly local New York news. No one I knew had read The Art of the Deal (1987). I myself knew about Trump mostly from reading the satirical magazine Spy (1986–1998), which frequently called him a “short-fingered vulgarian,” among many other epithets.
Here’s the joke as Alice told it:
A beautiful woman — young, blonde, bosomy — enters Trump Tower and stands waiting at a bank of elevators. When an elevator door opens, the woman is stunned to see none other than the building’s owner himself, Donald J. Trump, standing inside.
Trembling with excitement, the woman enters the elevator. As the doors close, she turns to him and gushes, “Mr. Trump! I’m such a huge fan of yours! I love Trump Tower! I’ve read The Art of the Deal five times! I think you’re brilliant!”
Trump manages a small smile.
As the elevator continues its ascent and no one else joins them, the woman gathers her courage.
“Oh, Mr. Trump,” she says. “I’m really your biggest fan! To show how much I admire you, can I . . . can I give you a blow job?”
She finally has Trump’s attention. He slowly looks her up and down. After what seems like an eternity, he finally says:
“What’s in it for me?”
He’s still impugning them, more than two decades after their exoneration.
Thanks for the perfect joke.
Best case: Trump suffers cardiac arrest (there are many avenues to this happening.)
Vance is younger, smarter, more articulate, less demented, more smooth and polished than Trump. But Vance will never have the White rube, Deplorable, male, blind cult charisma, adulation and idolization that Trump has. And I doubt he can instill enough fear to make all Republicans fall in lockstep the way Trump has.