FOR the past couple of days, the entire internet has been abuzz over the supposed “assassination attempt” against US president Bobo the Simpleminded at the annual White House Correspondents’ Dinner on Saturday night (April 25, Washington time). I have been both amused to the point of uncontrollable giggles and absolutely sickened by this farce. That’s a weird mental dichotomy to experience, and I don’t like it.
This was the third staged assassination attempt by the Trump regime, and it was the worst one yet. The first one, in Butler, Pennsylvania during the campaign, threw everyone off for a moment because there was an actual person with an actual gun shooting in the actual direction of the campaign venue while Mango Mussolini was speaking, and someone actually died as a result. Trump helped the ruse along by making the incredible personal sacrifice of pulling the old wrestler’s trick of nicking his ear with a razor (it looks impressive because it’ll bleed a lot) to make it look like he got winged, and then spent the next week walking around with a maxi pad taped to his head.
But even that event raised a bunch of questions immediately; the Secret Service detail at the event acted…strangely, the operator of the crane from which the giant American flag was suspended had the wherewithal to lower it so that it would be visible in camera shots, and after a couple of days of vague information about the investigation of the shooter (who was apparently a troubled young man who got murdered for his participation in the hoax), the matter was not-so-quietly dropped by the authorities.
The second event, wherein a supposedly armed man was supposedly caught staking out Costco Caligula’s golf course in Florida, was even less believable, because no one saw it. A guy was caught; he was taken to court and sentenced without ever having uttered a word, and disappeared. Maybe they set him up with a new life in some place where people are too stupid to ask questions; maybe they didn’t go to all that trouble, and just had him whacked. Who knows.
This latest hoax was the worst yet, and is perfectly summed up by this picture:
It took a bit of research to figure out the moment this photo was taken, but it was apparently just as the gunfire (on the floor above the ballroom where the WHCD was being held) was ending, and the “suspect” was being subdued by security. Notice a few details:
- The 2 SWAT officers onstage, looking in the direction of the commotion, but otherwise appearing rather relaxed, as though they were merely on security duty; not tensed for action, no weapons raised.
- In the foreground, White House advisor Stephen Miller, aka Temu Reinhardt Heydrich, is hustling his pregnant wife out of the area, and grabbing himself some tiddy while he’s at it. Who can blame him; the baby is Elon Musk’s and not his, anyway, he’s probably never gotten that close to those boobs. He is in turn being pushed along by another Secret Service or security officer, but the only problem is, in what is supposedly an active shooter situation, this officer is guiding them through the line of fire.
- Then you got the guy with the floating head behind the table onstage. I have no idea what the hell he’s doing.
- The real piece de resistance, however, is Rapey McMicropenis himself standing just offstage, apparently unbothered and watching the drama unfold from the wings; you can just make him out in the background to the left of Table Head Guy.
Look, I’m sure that there are people who would argue until they are blue in the face that this was not a pre-arranged stunt, and there is no convincing those smooth-brained types, but for everyone who might still be on the fence, let me share this observation. Never mind the coordinated squawking from Tangerine Toejam, his regime officials, and MAGA operatives in the social media immediately after the incident about the “need” for Trump’s White House ballroom, we’ll come back to that. The behavior of the Secret Service in all three of these incidents (really only two, to be fair, since we never saw the one in Florida) was so laughable to reveal the whole plot immediately, especially this latest incident.
I have, in my lifetime, witnessed three serious assassination attempts on US presidents, not in near real-time as social media allows today, but as broadcast by the previously reliable major news networks. In 1974, when I was still a youngster, two separate attempts were made against President Gerald Ford in the space of about a week, real attempts in which the would-be assassins actually got shots off in close proximity to the president. In 1981, there was the infamous and very nearly deadly attempt on President Ronald Reagan outside the Washington Hilton – coincidentally, the same hotel as in this weekend’s farcical incident. Do yourself a favor, go on YouTube and look up old news videos of the Reagan assassination attempt, and then compare the behavior of the Secret Service in that incident with that in either the Butler or WHCD incidents, and draw your own conclusion about whether or not the Secret Service in the incidents involving Pumpkin Pilate were acting as if there was an actual threat.
Now, about that ballroom. The hypothesis is growing online, mostly because the Diaper Don and his sycophants won’t shut up about it, that the entire reason for this poorly staged assassination attempt is because he is butthurt that the courts intervened to halt his construction of a tacky replacement for the former East Wing of the White House, since that is public property requiring the authorization of Congress to modify. Even though this seems an extremely petty reason on its face, I think it is exactly what is going on. Consider this: Agent Orange is a real estate developer, and he prides himself on being one. In reality, he is not a very good one, but a kickstart of some $100 million from his much more successful (and infinitely more evil) father set him up, and the real estate business is such that one or two successes lead to others. Without dad’s help, the guy would be hawking trailer park lots in central Florida, or more likely, in the ass end of Staten Island near the landfill. But anyway, real estate is a big deal to him, and being thwarted in the development of a grandiose project stings a developer more than most of us mere mortals can imagine. He’s been told he can’t build his ballroom, that is unacceptable, and so to his fevered, deteriorating, real-estate peddler’s mind, he needed to contrive a reason for the court to relent.
As a final note, even though I am of the conviction that Hairspray Himmler and every one of his acolytes should die immediately in the most painful, embarrassing way possible, the people who piss me off the most in this whole WHCD incident are the organizers of the White House Correspondents Association themselves. This is a guy who has skipped every annual event during both his presidencies, spends a considerable amount of time belittling and insulting the press, and calling those whom he cannot manipulate enemies of the state, and lies outright during every engagement with those he deigns to answer.
Your having invited him is unconscionable; it shows you have no self-respect, and no convictions about “independence of the media” or any of the principles that all the rest of us try to uphold. You are, in short, a bunch of punk bitches all too willing to trade access for any sort of ethical backbone, and now you are all conspirators in another fake assassination attempt farce. It will not be forgotten, when all this eventually ends, and may that day come right early.
