Trump, Blathering

INTO GOOGLE I typed "Stupid statements made by Donald Trump", thinking my "search" would cough up a veritable cornucopia bonanza of verbal Trump word salad sandwich inanities. My first reaction to what came up was disappointment. Nothing but a list of the usual expansive yet limited menu of garbled sentencs, butchered grammer, twisting and tormenting observers like watching a bad movie or a python consuming a fawn without chewing. Then, I dug a little deeper,in "AI mode", whatever that is, like Thomas Jefferson cutting a Bible to shreds, extracting, as he said, diamonds from a dung heap. I began to harvest the low hanging fruit. With Trump, its all low hanging, and for best resulsts when in a lazy frame of mind,one can take the easy way out, and stoop over to pick up the juicy rotten stuff off the ground, like fat possums by moonlight. Topping the billboard top one hundred hit list, by a mile if not more, has got to be the immortal "They say that windmill noise causes cancer.", whoever the generic "they" moght be, probably RFK Jr. Go ahead adn Google "stpid statements made by Trump". See what you come up with. I may well have missed a few diamonds in the rough, and we can compares notes. My mother, perhaps hoping to improve my ocabulary, used to give me every Christmas one of those "word of the day" calendars, the kind where you tear off a sheet every day if you want to keep up, and for every day there was another inordinately esoteric word from the million word English language, a word one would never use in polite conversation or even intellectual writing, words with a million synonyms and meanings. I'm not complaining. We Eglish speakers are the fortunate recipiets of a mixed breed langauge replete with coorful words and expressions stolen from languages all over the world. romance, Germanic, and the rest. We English speakers are gifted to have such a rich language, albeit one with relatively few rhyming words, mcuh to the chagrin of authors of sing songy poetic doggerel. The fact that we are the beneficiaries of a richly rewarding linguistic tradition is our blessing, a blessing only a select few bother to take advantage of. Donald Trump makes Yogi Berra like like a piker, beside the fact that Yogi was charing and funny, if unintentionally. You never got tired of hearing Yogi talk, and by the time you tore off all three hundred and sixty five of his crown jewels, you were in stitches, if a bit dazed and confused. Verbally, Trump is just disgusting, just like he is non verbally and every other conceiveable way. Yogi's verbal contortionas were word salad tossed as if by a world renowned chef; he made you smile, laugh, and feel warm and fuzzy all over. Trumps', imbedded in and gund heap piled higher and deeper, also make you laugh, but in total dusgust. You laugh to postpone or altogether avoid vomiting. Approximately sixty percent of the American people simply cannot bear to look at or listen to our national embarressment. Those puckered lips look like they are still sucking something, and you fear to find out what. We now have a little less than three years of this fatuous idiocy left to endure, but it is heartening to recall that it once, not long ago, was much more. Tempus fugit, thank heavens and physics. We've made it this far, we can go the distance, as about thirty thousand people were telling themselves at the five mile marker in the recent Boston marathon. Only one runner collapsed, and he got help from two magnanimous gentleman willing to sacrifice their life's dream to come to the aid of a fellow sufferer. We,as good Americans, should do no less. As Goethe said: "There is no situation which cannot be ennobled through achievement and enduring." Now, it would seem, is our time to suffer, to achieve, and, above all, to endure.