“It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” — Abraham Lincoln, “The Gettysburg Address”

”Eh. Aaaaahh! Ehh!” — Donald Trump, whatever the fuck this is

So Donald Trump held another Orwellian “Save America” rally on Saturday, and this was the takeaway:



TRUMP: “Eh. Aaaahh! Ehh!”

So what the fuck was that? Well, it was obviously the moment Donald Trump became president, right? But what was it specifically, other than the long-awaited theatrical adaptation of “covfefe”?

Maybe it was the signal to his reptilian alien overlords that his work here is done and the planet is ripe for invasion. No one will resist because, frankly, mining dilithium on a on a cold, forbidding alien moon sounds pretty good to most of us right about now.

Maybe he was telling his audience about the time he went dumpster-diving for Filet-O-Fishes and suddenly found himself in a pitched battle with two hungry and/or horny seagulls.

Joe Sudbay returns to geek out with Kerry Eleveld and Cara Zelaya on the Democratic Party must do, what they are doing, and what they aren’t doing on Daily Kos’ The Brief podcast

Maybe this was the first draft of his inaugural address and he wanted to show his fans how awesome it was before his eggheaded speechwriters ruined it.

Maybe that’s his impression of Melania every night from their honeymoon until they stopped sharing a bedroom.

Maybe he paid upfront for Barron’s diaper service, still has credits left, and is determined to get his money’s worth.

Or maybe I put too much DMT in my Folgers this morning. (And by “Folgers,” I of course mean “weed.”)

Fuck if I know. And frankly, I don’t want to know. The moment is beautiful—and complete—just as it is.

Sorry, but I’m tired. Tired of creeping fascism and really tired of him. A constitutional right we’ve taken for granted for 50 years just went “poof,” and this is the asshole who’s responsible.

So, whatever. An unintelligible, grunting Trump is the best of all possible Trumps—in any of the nearly infinite timelines in our continually splintering multiverse. This is the capstone of an effervescently weird political career. Grunts Magoo can pack it in now. No one with half a brain or a sliver of a conscience will miss him.

As far as I’m concerned, this is the quote that should be etched on his tombstone. It’s pretty much what I say whenever I pee these days anyway. It’ll be nice to have a cue card.

Check out Aldous J. Pennyfarthing’s four-volume Trump-trashing compendium, including the finale, Goodbye, Asshat: 101 Farewell Letters to Donald Trump, at this link. Or, if you prefer a test drive, you can download the epilogue to Goodbye, Asshat for the low, low price of FREE.

Liked it? Take a second to support Community on Patreon!

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


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here