Lost in the rumpus over Derp Throat’s latest document dump is how conclusively it proves that Republicans’ convictions on absolutely any issue (other than giant tax cuts for billionaires) are as gossamery as the gray matter in President Dipshit’s cotton-gin head.
Case in point: It took Republicans less than a day to criticize President Obama for wearing a tan suit and four days, give or take, to censure a GOP candidate who got banned from a mall for sexually harassing children.
Folks, this is your family-values party. Let that sink in. (Then again, maybe Moore thought Hot Topic was a new Koch-funded think tank. It’s only fair to wait until all the facts are in.)
Republicans will not rest until they’ve handed America its upper-class tax cut/giant smallpox blanket, so all deeply held principles are out the window in favor of political expediency. This newfangled American patriotism includes embracing enemies of the state when you want to defeat a candidate who used the wrong email server.
Let’s all hop in the Wayback Machine and recall what Donald Trump said about Julian Assange and Wikileaks back in 2010, when Trump was still just a random asshole preparing to convince the dentally challenged that there was no way a truculent black man could ever be legitimately elected president.
After Wikileaks released thousands of documents that had been stolen by Pfc. Chelsea Manning, Trump said, “I think it's disgraceful. I think there should be like death penalty [sic] or something.”
Of course, when Wikileaks started releasing Democratic emails stolen by our sworn enemies, he pulled a 180, declaring, “I love Wikileaks!”
But maybe somewhere deep down Trump still hangs onto a small spark of that erstwhile patriotic fervor. So here’s a conspiracy theory for you: Maybe this will give Trump Sr. his opening to finally whack Fredo. And no one has to know, because you could seamlessly replace Don Jr. with the next brunette frat boy to go comatose on Jäger.
It’s Trump’s chance to save his presidency and his soul. And why not? What wouldn’t he sacrifice to keep his wrinkly mango rind out of the fruit compote?