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Webster's Limit, Oxford's Frustration

Trumlitter dregstew.

Last I heard Webster and Oxford were retiring the words most used by or about Trump. I guess if it were me, I would write the whole thing in Polish. For example:

Donald Trump reprezentuje nowy gatunek, którego mózg nigdy nie był narażony na inteligentne mówienie nawet na studiach, ponieważ unikał wszystkich kursów, które mogłyby tego wymagać.

The beginning is "Donald Trump represents a new species..."

The advantage here is the strings of consonants, distance from English (as compared to Spanish, for example) and to someone not familiar with Polish it looks like letter stew. I am Polish and love the small amount I remember from my childhood when I did recitations in Polish at church events. And anyone without an Eastern European connection cannot pronounce my name in Polish.

Now that we have established a landscape I can describe what pops into my head whenever I hear a Trumpeted rant. Its a muddy pond, with various unfamiliar and disattractive creatures in constant battle and if by chance Donnie Boy tries to display his brilliance in, say engineering, well his ships would sink (he would build them hull up instead of hull down), and the guns would point in the wrong direction. However, there is much serious that places civilization in a dangerous position. He is a flaming racist of course, ignorant of all good values, incapable of compassion and devoid of self-awareness, this latter being most critical. If you are not aware of the limits of your knowledge nor have the ability to assess the character of the people you deal with you are setting yourself up for disaster. His normal mode of satisfying his base is to lie about some intention or accomplishment, which satisfies the base, then gradually withdraw from the position and the base doesn't notice.

One of my favorite images is Trump and Putin in conversation. Putin looks like a cat that just swallowed five caneries and knows there is another dozen in the fridge. Donnie Boy cannot help leaving streams of them.

Prior to Trump entering the picture, I was convinced Vlad was incapable of smiling. I presesumed that the nuturing he received in the various Russian secret police organizations swipped it permanently. Then I started to see these. It must be a revelation to Putin to discover a new side of life, and for which vodka is not necessary.

We are in deep trouble. Na zdrowie!

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Remind me not to forget the canary cage next time.

My goodness!  Am I going to have fun with you.

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