All Things Trump: Is it over yet?

[Tero]

What's the FBI number again?

[Cunt]

It seems that people calling for violence, not understanding the consequences of violence.
[yt]V4-BSOBuBIA?t=173[/yt]

Joe and Sam discuss it here, but they are probably right-wing nutbags to many.

[Tero]

Take out the ?t=173

[Cunt]

Thanks Tero.

It seems that people calling for violence, not understanding the consequences of violence.


Joe and Sam discuss it here, but they are probably right-wing nutbags to many.

[Tero]

6E62D071-1729-4403-8C08-720E25AE7F14.jpeg (69.45 KiB) Viewed 1449 times

If Trump is impeached, he loses all his ex president benefits, including a million dollar a year travel benefit.

[Brian Peacock]

Sidney Powell is a woman, by the way. She was referred to as he above.

Rudy's definitely trying to hold a fart in.

[NineBerry]

[JimC]

Sidney Powell is a woman, by the way. She was referred to as he above.

Rudy's definitely trying to hold a fart in.

Or cover a raging erection at the sight of her! I know Rudy!

[Cunt]

I know me...

But I wouldn't want to 'know' Powell.

[Seabass]

Did Donald Trump Fart While Attempting To Commit Election Fraud?


There is nothing especially difficult to understand about the phone call that President Donald Trump made to Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger this weekend, which is not the same thing as saying that any of it is exactly clear. The simple stuff is simple in the way that all the most purely Trump behavior is, and characteristically exactly the oafish power play it appears to be. Trump just doesn’t believe that he lost Georgia to Joe Biden in November’s presidential election, and in the absence of any evidence to that effect beyond his own very powerful sense that this isn’t something Trump would do, he reached for one of the most powerful tools available to any master dealsmith, which was to demand that someone he understood to be a subordinate just fucking fix it for him. In the recording of that hour-long phone call that the Washington Post released over the weekend, Trump does this sometimes in tones of peevish impatience and at other times in an oily simper, but mostly he just does it over and over again, even after it has become clear even to him that it is not working. The cumulative effect is basically that of watching a fat old housecat try to solve a Rubik’s Cube.

This is more or less how Trump has handled every challenge he has ever faced, and there is amid the last thrashing, whinging, sopping-wet days of his presidency also some evidently earnest surprise at how badly that is all working this time. None of what’s happening here is remotely good, all of it is ominous in ways so overt that they qualify more as “pending” than “looming,” but also there is a certain bleak amusement in watching this rancid adult Fauntleroy repeatedly and abjectly fail to comprehend the idea of consequences.

The parts of the call that are hard to understand, by contrast, are hard to understand by design. The various theories and gambits and hybrid rationalizations that Trump has deployed since losing the election are vague by necessity, because there’s nothing more concrete there to find; the point has always been to keep softer-brained and less-discerning types around through the next commercial break, and in a sufficiently blind and grift-amenable frenzy. In another delightful comic twist that is easier to appreciate in the abstract than from one uneasy moment to the next, Trump is both the most important character in this busy, busy trashscape and one of its most avid consumers. This means that some things tend to get lost in translation, as Trump now communicates almost entirely in its clammy patois of slang and lore and mini-stroke illogic. Trump has never quite seemed clear on what he’s complaining about beyond how unfair it was to him, but also he understands it perfectly. The soap opera plot he has memorized runs in perfect parallel to observable reality, and he has conflated and confused them utterly.

And so, on his call with Raffensperger and his counsel Ryan Germany, Trump is both making a very clear demand and effectively unable even to make the allegations he wants to make, or tell the sprawling story he quite clearly believes to be true as anything more legible than a series of frantic and doddering pivots from one isolated and unsupported outrage to the next. This doesn’t stop him. Trump says various large numbers in impatient ways, and asks odd heated questions about things that only people living in Trump’s own fervid counter-reality could even understand, and then gets frustrated when confronted with facts that rebut his powerful feelings, or with people who can’t or won’t do whatever he wants whenever he tells them to, or with his ongoing inability to turn rumors he’d heard—seen online or on his TV stories, overheard in a buffet line, had whispered into his big pink ear by Corey Pavin or whatever—into actionable legal remedies. This is how he has lived, and how he has ruled, and it has left the government resembling just the sort of gilded, involuted, manifestly unworkable and multiply overleveraged luxury wreck that Trump has spent his life depositing across the globe.

Also and maybe more to the point, right around the 51:40 mark in that phone call, Trump farts. It sounds like someone blowing into a French horn full of chowder. Then there’s another little one after that.

full article (audio included):
https://defector.com/did-donald-trump-f ... ion-fraud/

[Cunt]

Geez...Trump breaks wind and volumes are written. I didn't read it all, but am impressed that folks are so enamoured of him.

[L'Emmerdeur]

Did Donald Trump Fart While Attempting To Commit Election Fraud?


There is nothing especially difficult to understand about the phone call that President Donald Trump made to Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger this weekend, which is not the same thing as saying that any of it is exactly clear. The simple stuff is simple in the way that all the most purely Trump behavior is, and characteristically exactly the oafish power play it appears to be. Trump just doesn’t believe that he lost Georgia to Joe Biden in November’s presidential election, and in the absence of any evidence to that effect beyond his own very powerful sense that this isn’t something Trump would do, he reached for one of the most powerful tools available to any master dealsmith, which was to demand that someone he understood to be a subordinate just fucking fix it for him. In the recording of that hour-long phone call that the Washington Post released over the weekend, Trump does this sometimes in tones of peevish impatience and at other times in an oily simper, but mostly he just does it over and over again, even after it has become clear even to him that it is not working. The cumulative effect is basically that of watching a fat old housecat try to solve a Rubik’s Cube.

This is more or less how Trump has handled every challenge he has ever faced, and there is amid the last thrashing, whinging, sopping-wet days of his presidency also some evidently earnest surprise at how badly that is all working this time. None of what’s happening here is remotely good, all of it is ominous in ways so overt that they qualify more as “pending” than “looming,” but also there is a certain bleak amusement in watching this rancid adult Fauntleroy repeatedly and abjectly fail to comprehend the idea of consequences.

The parts of the call that are hard to understand, by contrast, are hard to understand by design. The various theories and gambits and hybrid rationalizations that Trump has deployed since losing the election are vague by necessity, because there’s nothing more concrete there to find; the point has always been to keep softer-brained and less-discerning types around through the next commercial break, and in a sufficiently blind and grift-amenable frenzy. In another delightful comic twist that is easier to appreciate in the abstract than from one uneasy moment to the next, Trump is both the most important character in this busy, busy trashscape and one of its most avid consumers. This means that some things tend to get lost in translation, as Trump now communicates almost entirely in its clammy patois of slang and lore and mini-stroke illogic. Trump has never quite seemed clear on what he’s complaining about beyond how unfair it was to him, but also he understands it perfectly. The soap opera plot he has memorized runs in perfect parallel to observable reality, and he has conflated and confused them utterly.

And so, on his call with Raffensperger and his counsel Ryan Germany, Trump is both making a very clear demand and effectively unable even to make the allegations he wants to make, or tell the sprawling story he quite clearly believes to be true as anything more legible than a series of frantic and doddering pivots from one isolated and unsupported outrage to the next. This doesn’t stop him. Trump says various large numbers in impatient ways, and asks odd heated questions about things that only people living in Trump’s own fervid counter-reality could even understand, and then gets frustrated when confronted with facts that rebut his powerful feelings, or with people who can’t or won’t do whatever he wants whenever he tells them to, or with his ongoing inability to turn rumors he’d heard—seen online or on his TV stories, overheard in a buffet line, had whispered into his big pink ear by Corey Pavin or whatever—into actionable legal remedies. This is how he has lived, and how he has ruled, and it has left the government resembling just the sort of gilded, involuted, manifestly unworkable and multiply overleveraged luxury wreck that Trump has spent his life depositing across the globe.

Also and maybe more to the point, right around the 51:40 mark in that phone call, Trump farts. It sounds like someone blowing into a French horn full of chowder. Then there’s another little one after that.

full article (audio included):
https://defector.com/did-donald-trump-f ... ion-fraud/

That was splendid, thank you. Entertaining analysis worthy of the time, then an excellent finish with (in my opinion) some superb comic writing.

[Hermit]

dp

[Hermit]

Did Donald Trump Fart While Attempting To Commit Election Fraud?


There is nothing especially difficult to understand about the phone call that President Donald Trump made to Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger this weekend, which is not the same thing as saying that any of it is exactly clear. The simple stuff is simple in the way that all the most purely Trump behavior is, and characteristically exactly the oafish power play it appears to be. Trump just doesn’t believe that he lost Georgia to Joe Biden in November’s presidential election, and in the absence of any evidence to that effect beyond his own very powerful sense that this isn’t something Trump would do, he reached for one of the most powerful tools available to any master dealsmith, which was to demand that someone he understood to be a subordinate just fucking fix it for him. In the recording of that hour-long phone call that the Washington Post released over the weekend, Trump does this sometimes in tones of peevish impatience and at other times in an oily simper, but mostly he just does it over and over again, even after it has become clear even to him that it is not working. The cumulative effect is basically that of watching a fat old housecat try to solve a Rubik’s Cube.

This is more or less how Trump has handled every challenge he has ever faced, and there is amid the last thrashing, whinging, sopping-wet days of his presidency also some evidently earnest surprise at how badly that is all working this time. None of what’s happening here is remotely good, all of it is ominous in ways so overt that they qualify more as “pending” than “looming,” but also there is a certain bleak amusement in watching this rancid adult Fauntleroy repeatedly and abjectly fail to comprehend the idea of consequences.

The parts of the call that are hard to understand, by contrast, are hard to understand by design. The various theories and gambits and hybrid rationalizations that Trump has deployed since losing the election are vague by necessity, because there’s nothing more concrete there to find; the point has always been to keep softer-brained and less-discerning types around through the next commercial break, and in a sufficiently blind and grift-amenable frenzy. In another delightful comic twist that is easier to appreciate in the abstract than from one uneasy moment to the next, Trump is both the most important character in this busy, busy trashscape and one of its most avid consumers. This means that some things tend to get lost in translation, as Trump now communicates almost entirely in its clammy patois of slang and lore and mini-stroke illogic. Trump has never quite seemed clear on what he’s complaining about beyond how unfair it was to him, but also he understands it perfectly. The soap opera plot he has memorized runs in perfect parallel to observable reality, and he has conflated and confused them utterly.

And so, on his call with Raffensperger and his counsel Ryan Germany, Trump is both making a very clear demand and effectively unable even to make the allegations he wants to make, or tell the sprawling story he quite clearly believes to be true as anything more legible than a series of frantic and doddering pivots from one isolated and unsupported outrage to the next. This doesn’t stop him. Trump says various large numbers in impatient ways, and asks odd heated questions about things that only people living in Trump’s own fervid counter-reality could even understand, and then gets frustrated when confronted with facts that rebut his powerful feelings, or with people who can’t or won’t do whatever he wants whenever he tells them to, or with his ongoing inability to turn rumors he’d heard—seen online or on his TV stories, overheard in a buffet line, had whispered into his big pink ear by Corey Pavin or whatever—into actionable legal remedies. This is how he has lived, and how he has ruled, and it has left the government resembling just the sort of gilded, involuted, manifestly unworkable and multiply overleveraged luxury wreck that Trump has spent his life depositing across the globe.

Also and maybe more to the point, right around the 51:40 mark in that phone call, Trump farts. It sounds like someone blowing into a French horn full of chowder. Then there’s another little one after that.

full article (audio included):
https://defector.com/did-donald-trump-f ... ion-fraud/

That was splendid, thank you. Entertaining analysis worthy of the time, then an excellent finish with (in my opinion) some superb comic writing.

That comment made me read the article after all, and I must say it is a bottom (teehee) of the barrel opinion piece. It does not just ignore well established facts the way our member from Yellowknife habitually does. It actually contradicts them like the pundits at Parler and similar haunts of Trump's benighted supporters do. You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you? You must. It sticks out in exactly the same way Trump's penile erection does not. It is this: Despite the lack of opposable thumbs all cats can easily solve Rubik's Cubes. Even fat old housecats. They just don't bother because they prefer to leave menial tasks to their servants - us humans. And what can be a more menial, not to say demeaning activity than rotating tiny cubes?

The felines' ability is a scientifically proven fact. Countless studies confirming it have been published in all the most prestigious, trustworthy, peer reviewed journals like Catacomb and Comb a cat, including the most respected of all, Catastrophe. The only dissenting study, published in Catholic, was retracted when it was discovered that its author, Andrew Dogsfield fabricated the results of his study in the hope that people got rid of their cats and bought the dogs he sold out of the back of his white van instead. So, yeah, reading the article was a waste of time.

[Tero]

obama selfir stick.jpg (52.18 KiB) Viewed 1377 times