Rumpole
Diamond Member
- Mar 20, 2023
- 3,307
- 2,650
- 1,928
Ah, America. The Great Experiment. Once the shining city upon a hill, now reduced to the gilded set of a reality television show where the host--a bankrupt casino magnate with an affinity for golden toilets--has returned for a second season. Only this time, the stakes are higher. The Republic, such as it is, has become an annex of the Trump Organization, its laws reduced to the fine print of an expired Mar-a-Lago membership contract.
Consider, if you will, The Trump Tax Gambit: The Sequel. Just as in his first term, Trump and his ever-loyal billionaire brethren have devised a scheme to fund yet another tax cut for themselves--one that will leave the average American with just enough crumbs to stave off outright rebellion while the Treasury is emptied like a cheap piñata at a Palm Beach fundraiser. The government, as it turns out, is quite the accommodating piggy bank when one happens to control the key.
Then, of course, there was Ivanka--Princess of the Realm--who, during her father’s delicate negotiations with China, received accelerated trademarks from Beijing. How fortuitous that these allowed her to peddle millions of dollars worth of trinkets to the same nation we were supposedly engaged in a high-stakes economic battle against. Meanwhile, her husband, young Jared, was darting across the Middle East under the pretense of diplomacy, only to emerge--mirabile dictu!--with a $100 million post-administration payday from the Saudis. A fine return on investment for the Crown Prince, no doubt.
And lest we forget, there’s Trump, the Innkeeper. Millions in Secret Service expenditures funneled directly into his golf resorts. A Washington, D.C. hotel lease--not the building, mind you, just the lease--flipped for a neat $100 million profit. Add to that the latest revenue streams: NFTs for the discerning MAGA connoisseur, Bible sales for those who prefer their grifts with a side of sanctimony, sneakers (because, naturally, the world was clamoring for Trump-branded footwear), and Melania’s newfound cottage industry in monetizing the glamour of an erstwhile First Lady.
Yet in the latest iteration of this absurdist tragedy, Trump has outdone himself. Not content with mere tax breaks and hotel swindles, he has introduced a meme coin. A cryptocurrency for the discerning kleptocrat, providing a seamless, anonymous way for billionaires, foreign oligarchs, and aspiring political fixers to deliver their tributes. What was once an intricate web of dark money has now been distilled into a simple digital transaction. No need for dubious Super PACs or cumbersome shell companies when one can simply funnel crypto directly into The Leader’s pockets.
And so the looting continues: wind energy projects are frozen; oil and gas executives shower him with contributions; Inspectors General--those inconvenient bureaucratic relics of a bygone Republic--are dismissed en masse. In their place, a government structured not to serve the public but to function as a kind of bespoke concierge service for Trump’s benefactors. Consider, for instance, the curious case of Elon Musk, who happens to be a leading holder of Trump’s meme coin and, purely by coincidence, is suddenly gifted with $400 million in government contracts. No, not corruption--just good old-fashioned American business.
Cabinet officials, of course, are not left out. $800,000 in stock from Trump Media finds its way into the portfolios of loyal appointees, ensuring that those who regulate are also those who profit. Meanwhile, Trump moves swiftly to dismantle the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau--an institution that had the audacity to return $16 billion in ill-gotten fees to defrauded Americans. The CFPB had one job: to protect the public from corporate fraud. And so, naturally, it had to go.
The pièce de résistance? Trump unilaterally decides that U.S. laws prohibiting overseas bribery shall no longer be enforced. One wonders whether this was intended as legal reform or simply a practical acknowledgment of reality. Either way, it means that the next time Trump sells access to himself at $5 million per meeting at Mar-a-Lago, there will be no pesky statutes to interfere.
And yet, his supporters remain undeterred. What will it take, one wonders, for them to realize that they have been conned? That the flag they drape themselves in is little more than a cheap merchandising ploy, a red-white-and-blue backdrop for an unending hustle? Perhaps they, too, have come to accept the new American order: a government of the grifters, by the grifters, for the grifters.
All hail the to the Commander-In-Thief. Nice work if you can get it, eh?
Consider, if you will, The Trump Tax Gambit: The Sequel. Just as in his first term, Trump and his ever-loyal billionaire brethren have devised a scheme to fund yet another tax cut for themselves--one that will leave the average American with just enough crumbs to stave off outright rebellion while the Treasury is emptied like a cheap piñata at a Palm Beach fundraiser. The government, as it turns out, is quite the accommodating piggy bank when one happens to control the key.
Then, of course, there was Ivanka--Princess of the Realm--who, during her father’s delicate negotiations with China, received accelerated trademarks from Beijing. How fortuitous that these allowed her to peddle millions of dollars worth of trinkets to the same nation we were supposedly engaged in a high-stakes economic battle against. Meanwhile, her husband, young Jared, was darting across the Middle East under the pretense of diplomacy, only to emerge--mirabile dictu!--with a $100 million post-administration payday from the Saudis. A fine return on investment for the Crown Prince, no doubt.
And lest we forget, there’s Trump, the Innkeeper. Millions in Secret Service expenditures funneled directly into his golf resorts. A Washington, D.C. hotel lease--not the building, mind you, just the lease--flipped for a neat $100 million profit. Add to that the latest revenue streams: NFTs for the discerning MAGA connoisseur, Bible sales for those who prefer their grifts with a side of sanctimony, sneakers (because, naturally, the world was clamoring for Trump-branded footwear), and Melania’s newfound cottage industry in monetizing the glamour of an erstwhile First Lady.
Yet in the latest iteration of this absurdist tragedy, Trump has outdone himself. Not content with mere tax breaks and hotel swindles, he has introduced a meme coin. A cryptocurrency for the discerning kleptocrat, providing a seamless, anonymous way for billionaires, foreign oligarchs, and aspiring political fixers to deliver their tributes. What was once an intricate web of dark money has now been distilled into a simple digital transaction. No need for dubious Super PACs or cumbersome shell companies when one can simply funnel crypto directly into The Leader’s pockets.
And so the looting continues: wind energy projects are frozen; oil and gas executives shower him with contributions; Inspectors General--those inconvenient bureaucratic relics of a bygone Republic--are dismissed en masse. In their place, a government structured not to serve the public but to function as a kind of bespoke concierge service for Trump’s benefactors. Consider, for instance, the curious case of Elon Musk, who happens to be a leading holder of Trump’s meme coin and, purely by coincidence, is suddenly gifted with $400 million in government contracts. No, not corruption--just good old-fashioned American business.
Cabinet officials, of course, are not left out. $800,000 in stock from Trump Media finds its way into the portfolios of loyal appointees, ensuring that those who regulate are also those who profit. Meanwhile, Trump moves swiftly to dismantle the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau--an institution that had the audacity to return $16 billion in ill-gotten fees to defrauded Americans. The CFPB had one job: to protect the public from corporate fraud. And so, naturally, it had to go.
The pièce de résistance? Trump unilaterally decides that U.S. laws prohibiting overseas bribery shall no longer be enforced. One wonders whether this was intended as legal reform or simply a practical acknowledgment of reality. Either way, it means that the next time Trump sells access to himself at $5 million per meeting at Mar-a-Lago, there will be no pesky statutes to interfere.
And yet, his supporters remain undeterred. What will it take, one wonders, for them to realize that they have been conned? That the flag they drape themselves in is little more than a cheap merchandising ploy, a red-white-and-blue backdrop for an unending hustle? Perhaps they, too, have come to accept the new American order: a government of the grifters, by the grifters, for the grifters.
All hail the to the Commander-In-Thief. Nice work if you can get it, eh?
