"The world’s full of rich and poor, famous and nobodies …"
The world’s full of rich and poor, famous and nobodies. America more than anywhere else.
A lot of the poor nobodies feel super deep feelings about the rich and famous.
It’s like a personal thing to us — love and hate. And we don’t always love and hate who you’d expect.
Like, we love Jay Z. He raps about money cash hoes and the love of dealing drugs. Plus, the yacht got a triple deck. Yeah, Jay was clearly a criminal, but we don’t wanna be us, we wanna be him; we don’t wanna push dimes, we wanna sell weight. Jay raps loud and clear about the same shiz we think about quietly but keep to ourselves.
On the other side, we hate Bill Gates. Yeah, Gates made bank — but only by stealing ideas from Steve Jobs. And what’s that little bowl-hair-cut-having frittata do next? He starts the “Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, dedicated to the proposition that all people should have the opportunity to live full, productive lives.” Goes to Africa. Wears pleated pants. Never told one single person to kiss his whole asshole. Fuck that guy.
Now we got Donald Trump.
Donald Jay Trump.
The richest, ballsiest, ballingest politician in North American history, who’s just raging right now: telling Paul Ryan to lick his balls, calling Gold Star moms 'kept women' and shouting down babies.
As for our deep feelings about Donald Jay Trump … sibs are split.
Yeah, most of us think Trump sucks; we think he’s Hitler with stranger hair.
But not all of us.
And not every single part of us.
Some very small part of us loves this crazy fuck.
Why don’t we hate ever fiber?
Because Trump lives too close to the American Dream.
See, he’s not just a rich dude; he’s the rich dude some poor dudes wanna be.
Life, if you’re eating McDonald’s, not bringing nobody home off Tinder cause you live in an RV, and if you’re dreaming about the future, you might dream about founding a successful software firm and then marrying a sensible woman and starting an African Malaria Charity. But you might also say to yourself, “Man, if I had a couple billion dollars in Fuck You Money, I wouldn’t do nothing noble at all. I’d own a contest for the prettiest girls in the world. I’d build casinos with my own name in big gold letters. I’d get my own TV show where all I do is fire people. I’d own golf courses and beach resorts and I’d marry models from poor countries. And if I didn’t like Canadians or Egyptians — and I don’t — I’d build walls and ban ‘em. And I would tell every single person, even if they’re the president or the Speaker of the fucking House, to go fantastically fuck themselves.”
That’s what Trump is. That’s what his talk is. Just another version of the American dream. Just money cash hoes from a different neighborhood. Just a dream we’d keep to ourselves.
Most politicians look like aliens, blabbing about HB4043 and sequesters and the Bridge to Tomorrow.
Trump talks simple. Clear. Tells you who he hates and who he loves.
Yeah, everybody knows that most of the stuff he says is batshit. But dudes on the street see in Trump the powers and virtues of other dudes on the street. Sometimes you don’t get nowhere in life if you’re not tough. And Trump is a person who, by never backing down and having a lot of privilege, has fulfilled all the desires an average dude has witg private jets, unlimited servants, his ideas carried out by his underlings, monuments and palaces. But, above all, he’s got the ultimate luxury of money: the power to say “Fuck You.”
Which is what he’s saying these days, over and over again: Fuck You. Fuck You. You’re Cool. Fuck you.
So next time you decide that Donald Trump is crazy, that this next crazy thing he says is gonna sink him, that the crazy cannot go up another level and his disapproval numbers cannot inch up another notch, remember this: there’s lots of different kinds of dreams, and a lot of us Americans are crazy, too.