I read Donald Trump’s convention speech about an hour before he delivered it. I’m no Trump fan — I think he’s the second worst Democrat running for president by a vanishingly narrow margin — but I thought the speech as written was pretty good.
“I will present the facts plainly and honestly. We cannot afford to be so politically correct anymore. So if you want to hear the corporate spin, the carefully-crafted lies, and the media myths the Democrats are holding their convention next week. But here, at our convention, there will be no lies.”
The speech talked about the racial strife Obama has helped create, the police deaths he helped instigate, the slow economy his policies keep in place, the chaos in the Middle East to which both Obama and Hillary Clinton contributed. Then he put forward such policy solutions as blah de la de blah but I’m Donald Trump so it’ll be great. Pure garbage, that part, but the new principle-empty GOP seems to like this stuff, so why not?
But then I watched Trump deliver the speech and it was an assault on the senses. Constant screaming for an hour and fifteen minutes. Which is a long time for a thirty minute speech to last! Trump shrieked, “I am your voice.” And I thought: No wonder I’m so hoarse. By the end of it, I felt like that girly guy at the Daily News — the wonderfully named Gersh Kuntzman — who said he got PTSD from firing a rifle. Firing a rifle? Wuss! Wimp! Kuntzman! Try having some orange guy shout in your face for 75 minutes. That’ll give you a twitch and a limp.
You know what the worst thing is? The worst thing is that everything Trump says about the Democrats is true. Obama, Clinton. They’re dishonest. They’re incompetent. They’re enslaving, anti-Constitutional socialists. They’re race-baiting, power-hungry manipulators. On and on. It was like listening to Hitler blame the Reichstag fire on the Communist International… and the Communist International had really plotted the fire.
Okay, okay, Trump is no Hitler. So that’s nice. That’s a positive. That’ll make a good campaign slogan. And Hillary Clinton actually is Boss Tweed — or Boss Silk, since her pantsuits apparently cost around $1,400.
But with these two to choose from? Listen, I’m on hold with Queen Elizabeth II. Maybe she’ll take us back.
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