Monday Morning

I think maybe I've been giving D.J. Trump too much credit.  For a year or three now, I've been looking at his infamous tweets and thinking there was method in their madness; that while they seemed nonsensical and petulant to me, they weren't directed at me and must have been achieving some desired effect on his base.

To folks like me, they seemed like little mini-tantrums by an unstable guy who got pissed about something, snatched up his iPhone and thumbed out the first primal thought that came into his mind without running it past a saner head or even asking himself, "Will it help me or anyone if I send this out?"  Even I take that pause before I post to the 'net and I'm not under investigation, subject to impeachment, imbued with the power of the presidency, etc.

I really thought he wasn't just firing without thinking but his over-the-weekend whine about Saturday Night Live making fun of him causes me to think, "No, he really is that childish."  I guess he doesn't ask anyone, "Do you think this is a wise thing to send out?" before he hits "Tweet."  Even the White House Custodial Engineer could have told him he'd just look like a big baby, and that the crackdown he calls for will never, ever happen.

The SNL sketch that sent him off — reportedly, their It's a Wonderful Life "remake" — wasn't even the harshest thing they've done about him. The cold open I'd like to see them do would go something like this: They'd have an Oval Office setting and they'd trot out all the usual players — Matt Damon as Brett Kavanaugh, Ben Stiller as Michael Cohen, the shirtless guy as Putin, etc. — and right in the middle of it, Alec Baldwin stops in mid-sentence, everyone on stage freezes and Baldwin breaks character…

He pulls off the wig, turns to everyone and says, "I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. This man is no longer a clown to make fun of. This man is doing so much damage to the country I love and causing so much anxiety and pain among the poor and the non-white that I can't make fun of his hair anymore. This is much more serious than that."

He walks off, the other cast members look at each other to ask "What do we do now?" And then they all realize he's right and they start pulling off their wigs and appliances and in unison, they tell the camera, "Live from New York…" etc., and the show proceeds with no more Trump imitations. Until he's no longer a threat.