Do not panic!
On this historic day that harkens one to great and timeless quotes, allow me to invoke the late Douglas Adams, and shout at the general public – don’t panic!
Donald John Trump is now the 45th President of the United States of America.
You are not dreaming. You are not in a dystopian froth brought about by yeast poisoning from a batch of bad beer and have not awoken, ala Rick Grimes, to a strange new world filled with zombies and vast herds of brain-eaten morons.
On the day Aquarius centres on the calendar, the Trump Age (which will become known as ‘The Trumpage’), begins in the world’s de facto most powerful nation.
A nation deeply divided now has a divisive leader.
A world deeply divided now watches as a divisive demagogue settles into the Oval Office, his now legendarily puny wee fingers hovering over the big red button that would unleash the end of mankind.
But do not panic! Life will go on, unless, of course, North Korea gives Trump the finger. Then it’s lights out London for most life on Earth. That said, Trump and Kim Jong-Un are both cut from the same Little Lord Fauntleroy cloth and are probably friends, so no worry there.
Still, there is no need to go off your nut, even if Vladimir Putin’s hand doesn’t fit as snugly up Trump’s backside as we’ve been led to believe by an agency that thrives on deception and BS and has caused most of the issues currently eating the global community alive.
Maybe Trump will surprise us. Maybe this egomaniacal narcissist will have a ‘frozen fish slap upside the face moment’ and pursue a presidency that truly returns the power back to the people, as he said in his inauguration speech.
The gravity of being president must surely force some of Trump’s lesser appealing traits, such as racism and misogyny, into the backseat as he drives the great bus that is America.
Now that he’s been sworn in and is actually the guy in charge, surely Trump will now find some humility and humanity and grow as a person.
By now he’s been shown the UFO file that will quickly eradicate his racist tendencies as once a person drops eyeballs on one of those silvery grey, big-eyed beings, human skin colour and differences are washed away in the blink of an eye (or quivering of a back tendril).
Like for every big-shot bigmouth who ever marched into a mayoral seat, blustering away about fixing city hall and all its problems, reality arrives in the form of legislation that must be heeded or off to jail you go. Same goes for President. Trump will, possibly daily, have to contend with spooky suits watching his every move and reporting back to a litany of agencies that are the real power in America; the rot that Trump says he wants to remove but won’t because ‘they’ own his ass.
There are checks and balances and other safe guards in place to ward off a dictatorial nut-biscuit from doing too much damage.
So don’t panic. Don’t feel blue. Don’t moan about the world being completely doomed because the leading cast of psychos in charge has a new lead.
Rejoice at the new day dawning and celebrate all that Barack Obama accomplished in his eight years in office.
Quickly moving on, rejoice at the thought that it is going to be fascinating watching America unfold in the next four years and watching Trump evolve into a more rounded human being.
Yes, it is a surreal time. But it is no more surreal than seeing young Justin Trudeau serving as Canada’s Prime Minister after his father so mercilessly flogged this nation’s economy and spent away a generation’s chances at success.
It’s all just one of those scenarios where you think about it and laugh it away as absurd. That’s how things went as Trump campaigned. He mocked a handicapped person; he spat ugliness on the parents of a slain American soldier; he was shown as a foul country club pervert; and his Twitter account illuminated this delightfully thin skin, which is going to thicken up real quickly in the next few months as his every move, decision and dithering is magnified by a media mob with a renewed purpose fueled by liberal malice.
Trump is about to find out that the President of the United States is the loneliest person alive. At 70, he will age faster than previous presidents and it is doubtful that he will be able to handle more than one term as his flabby old body breaks down from the endless skin-cutting strength spray of stress that blasts at him from every direction.
The conniving circus barker entertainer with inherited wealth and a personal world so plastic that the Kardashians seem humble in comparison, says he is going to be a president of the people and return power to them.
At least Trump didn’t stomp up to the podium during today’s inauguration and point and scowl into the camera and snarl “you’re all gonna get yours!”
So don’t panic. The sun will rise tomorrow; birds will sing; babies will be born; business will go on as usual, with one side mercilessly plundering another and nothing will really change beyond the norm.
All the hot, rancid bluster of Trump’s ugliest moments during his campaign will be tempered completely by the fact that the evil cartel of rat swine who run the world as their own personal workforce are more in control than ever before.
A puppet will not find voice nor action if the master doesn’t wish it so.
So relax; it’s all good.