In Republican-Land, the world is made up of patriots and snowflakes. The patriots like guns, meat, “man” things, empty storage facilities, coal mining, whatever the opposite of recycling is, and things with large horns. Snowflakes are made up of the “hilariously” devised acronym, “SJW,” sore losers who cry when they don’t get their way, and women — specifically the ones who want “equal rights.”
So isn’t it surprising that our president spent the first week of his presidency simultaneously rage fucking the constitution while also crying about how people were big ol’ meanies?
It’s like the irony was created just to make me feel vaguely nauseous all of the time.
President Trump, the leader of the United States, patriot #1, gets his feelings hurt when the reporters tell the truth.
This is particularly frustrating as he strong-arms the rest of the world into agreeing with him, signing executive orders that specifically take away rights of individuals in need, putting his weird, thuggy friends in positions of power, and shutting his eyes and ears while yelling, “nanananabooboo,” to Mexico. Regardless of his behavior, his need for reverence remains strong. So strong that you can almost see his desire for agreement boiling under his skin, raising his blood pressure, lifting that stupid hair off of his head. His pathology sits on his shoulder like a little devil, softly whispering, “go ahead, boy, tweet about it.”
The irony here being that many of his supporters, who scream LIBERAL TEARS at every protester or journalist, don’t then interpret Trump’s whining as a snowflake-worthy. When he gets offended it becomes a national issue, it becomes a parade of annoyed white men in press conference after press conference explaining why he needs people to be nice to him.
Isn’t it great? Women, people of color, immigrants, those with criminal records, refugees, Muslims, the poor, LGBTQIA+ Americans… all these people have to explain with patience and understanding why they deserve equal rights, why they feel scared or hopeless. But these white men in power just have to get in front of a camera, pout their lips, shake their heads a little bit, tweet out a stupid thing, and his supporters say, “YEAH, LOSERS, HE’S GOT A POINT.” No. He does not have a point. Being a mediocre white man does not engender sympathy. It only allows other mediocre white men across the nation to look at their mediocre lives and say, “it’s that black person’s/immigrant’s/gay person’s/criminal’s/poor person’s/woman’s fault I have no usable skills and a strong desire to live a comfortable life with relatively little effort to adapt to a changing society.” And that white-whine you’ve got going makes you pretty damn snow-flakey if you ask me.
But I have a solution.
I will write letters, I will call representatives, and I will protest. I will continue trying to have the difficult conversations about the need for intersectionality in feminism, letting everyone have a seat at the table, immigrant and refugee rights, and the environment. I will continue to educate myself, read and watch the news, and try to find out the facts amid the fog.
But I will also start a moderate and mundane tweet campaign against Donald Trump’s penis.
What? you whisper, looking around quickly to see if anyone saw the word “penis” on your screen.
Let me show you some examples:
1. Donald Trump’s penis is about five inches long. #DonaldsPenis
2. Donald Trump keeps his pubes nicely trimmed, except for three stray ones up the shaft. #DonaldsPenis
3. Donald Trump’s penis has a super smooth head. The smoothest head, maybe. Everybody says so. #DonaldsPenis
4. Have you heard about Donald Trump’s balls? He has two of them. #DonaldsPenis
The key here is not to hurl insults. What is the point in shaming a penis for being “weird,” or “small,” when you can just talk about it with statements that may or may not be true. It would be heteronormative propaganda to assume insulting a man’s penis insults his manhood. After all, some men don’t have penises, some women do, and if you’re lucky you could have two or three or something. I’m not sure if there’s a limit.
And most importantly, you don’t need to insult Donald Trump to ignite his narcissistic need to vengeance. You just gotta say things that he doesn’t believe are true and hope it creates a pathologic need to prove us wrong.
My goal here – and I would think this would be quite obvious, but I’ll explain it anyway – is to get Donald Trump to whip out his penis in public.
You saying, “I heard his penis leans left,” could possibly force him to hold a press conference to let the American people know that it does, in fact, lean right, and it’s pretty demoralizing to say otherwise.
The truth doesn’t matter here — and by here I mean the entire country, ever again. But compliance does. And Trump may have to take his penis out at a state dinner to teach you how to behave.
I say, go ahead, Donny!
I heard your penis has TWO big veins.
Please join me in tweeting #DonaldsPenis and share with me the most recent thing you’ve heard about his dick. Again, keep it classy. Insulting a penis does not insult a man. But reporting “facts” that could potentially drive the leader of the free world to take out his penis on national television could make you a goddamn national hero.