You know I should be sittin’ in an air conditioned, office in a swivel chair. Talkin’ some trash to the secretary, sayin’ “Hey now Momma, come on over here”   Jim Croce   Working at the car wash blues

I am  just over 2/3 of the way through Mary Trump’s book, Too much and never enough, and I am enjoying it immensely. But the more I walk hand in hand with Mary through her Uncle Donald’s psyche and mental make up, the more I realize that it’s like playing hide-and-seek with Hannibal Lecter in Freddie Krueger’s house. This is one seriously disturbed gerbil.

Donald Trump has spent his entire life desperately touting himself as a truly self made man. He loves to regale people with the fact that he took a measly $1 million loan from his father and turned it into a multi billion dollar real estate empire in Manhattan, Atlantic City, and elsewhere globally. This is, of course, pure, unadulterated bullshit. Fred Trump Sr was the sponge the built an empire, and his son Donald was the spigot that largely pissed it away. But if you take away the money and the business, when it comes to emotional and mental stability, Donald Trump truly is the original self made man, one of a kind.

All five of the Trump siblings, Fred Jr, affectionately called Freddy, Maryanne, Donald, Elizabeth, and Robert, grew up in a dysfunctional, emotionally abusive household. Fred St was a true sociopath, concerned with only two things, Fred Sr, and his burgeoning em[ppp_patron_only]pire. His children were a necessary evil in search of a replacement to extend the empire. Their mother, Mary, a woman with physical and emotional problems of her own, was at best an indifferent mother, except where the boys were concerned, where she was absentee. She felt that the sons were Fred St’s purview. Starved for parental affection and nurturing from their earliest days, all five children grew up with emotional scars.

Donald learned young. For whatever reason, from the get go, Fred Sr decided that his heir apparent, Freddy, was lacking. In an effort to toughen him up, Fred Sr regularly belittled and castigated Freddy in front of his siblings. Desperate for his fathers approval, Freddy chose honesty, admitted his failures, and promised to be better, which only earned him another heaping helping of shit. By the time he was 6, Donald realized instinctively that a richly veined line of bullshit was far superior to the truth, since it saved you a chewing out.

Which led to arrogance. By the time Donald was in grade school he had a near permanent sneer on his face. When his father chose not to rein that in, it led to bullying. Donald started bullying everybody, his siblings, his classmates, even his mother, whom he refused to even give the time of day when she attempted to discipline him. And when his father not only refused to discipline him, but gave tacit approval to his budding killer instinct, outright cruelty followed, and everything went to hell in a hand basket.

With his father’s unspoken, but tacit approval, at the age of 10 Donald had never been successfully disciplined.  And at the age of 10, Donald had the seminal moment of his life. Seated at the dinner table, with his siblings and parents around him, Donald was engaged in his favorite pastime, which was torturing his younger brother Robert. With the exception of his father, who seemed unaware of what was going on around him, everybody at the table, including his mother, yelled at Donald to stop it. When Donald persisted, his older brother Freddy grabbed the most non lethal item he could find on the dining room table, and dumped a bowl of mashed potatoes over Donald’s head. And Donald Trump felt something he had never before felt in his life, abject humiliation. He sat there, with a kitchen bowl on top of his head, and mashed potatoes streaming down his face and shirt, while his entire family, including his father, laughed uncontrollably at him.

And in that moment of humiliation, at the age of 10, Donald Trump made his choice. Donald Trump would never feel that way again. His father had taught him well, There are two kinds of people in this world son, there is one winner, and everybody else are losers! Donald Trump instinctively knew that he was a winner. And Donald Trump decided in that moment that he would never suffer another negative feeling again.

That’s the problem. In order for someone to nurture and experience positive feelings such as love, contentment, pleasure, and fulfillment, they must by design expose themselves to the negative counterparts such as disappointment, despair, sorrow, and humility. And Donald Trump made the determination that the positive feelings were not worth the price of their negative  counterparts.

Donald Trump doesn’t need to hate Mexicans, blacks, Muslims, or immigrants from shit hole countries. They don’t even exist for him, after all, they’re just losers! But his rabid base sure as shit hates them, which allows him to indulge in the one pleasure he has left in his benighted soul, the pleasure of cruelty. Imagine how much satisfaction it must have given Trump to think about the number of squalling toddlers being separated from their parents at the southern border, hopefully never to be reunited. Some days it really is worth rolling out of bed in the morning.

And the same thing perfectly explains Trump’s response to the coronavirus. When the pandemic first broke, Trump couldn’t have cared less. After all, that was a China problem, Trump had low unemployment, a soaring stock market, and a better than even odds of winning a second term. Trump only took notice when enough Americans became stricken that a majority of state Governors shut down their states, and led to an economic collapse. And even then, Trump’s focus wasn’t on the number of American citizens sickened, after all, they’re just Losers! His sole goal was on reopening the national economy as quickly as possible, to shore up the national economy to give him something to run on for reelection.

In a day or so, when I’ve finished reading, I’ll give you a final book report on Mary Trump’s work. But as I read through her detailed chronology of exactly how the formative mental and emotional years of the 45th President of the United States played out, the more alarmed I became. And I just wanted to get it out in a concise, focused way, for everybody to see.

To know the future, look to the past.before the insanity of the 2020 election, relive the insanity of the 2016 GOP primary campaign, and the general election, to see how we got to where we are. Copies of President Evil, and the sequel, President Evil II, A Clodwork Orange are available as e-books on Amazon, at the links above. Catch up before the upcoming release of the third book in the trilogy, President Evil III: All The Presidents Fen

Follow me on Twitter at @RealMurfster35

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This is a Creative Commons article. The original version of this article appeared here.


  1. Yeah, to bad he didn’t have the right tools for the job. But apparently in his family that wasn’t necessary. I grew up in a abusive home. Not quite what these people must have had but in the ballpark.

  2. He shouldn’t mind that ton of bricks that’s going to land on his dim witted head soon….
    Remember, aim for their knees…


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