Cir­cus Trump

El Dorado News-Times - - Viewpoint -

Like Cirque de Soleil, the Don­ald Trump Cir­cus has many tour­ing pro­duc­tions. The Oval Of­fice. The White House. The Cab­i­net. Both Repub­li­can held Houses of Congress. It's a wacky zany fiver­ing spec­ta­cle chock-full of tightrope walk­ers, eth­i­cal con­tor­tion­ists, trained an­i­mals, morally chal­lenged ac­ro­bats and logic jug­glers. And don't for­get the clowns.

Lots and lots of clowns.

The U.S. Marine Band is play­ing "Hail to the

Chief" on a cal­liope.

Wher­ever POTUS 45 goes or threat­ens to go or even men­tions that go­ing might be a pos­si­bil­ity, the cam­eras are there so they don't miss any up­com­ing lu­nacy. All ac­tion chore­ographed by the Golden Canopy in his role as Ring­mas­ter Deluxe. He is a world­class ex­pert in pres­tidig­i­ta­tion and knows his part well. Which may be why the cast changes faster than free beer dis­ap­pears at a frat party cel­e­brat­ing a home­com­ing win over Alabama.

The Trump Cir­cus per­form­ers are re­placed at a rate that would shock an as­sis­tant man­ager on the grave­yard shift at McDon­ald's. John Bolton has stomped into the Big Top as our new strong­man. The man with the scari­est mus­tache in the world. Due to be our third Na­tional Se­cu­rity Ad­vi­sor. Maybe. No­body's quite sure. The sec­ond one might not quit. The first one is still under in­dict­ment.

Bolton's cre­den­tials con­sist mostly of suck­ing up to his new boss like a turbo vac­uum cleaner on phar­ma­ceu­ti­cal strength steroids. When ap­pointed am­bas­sador to the United Na­tions by Ge­orge W Bush, Bolton de­scribed his ap­proach as one of Tough Love. With the em­pha­sis on the ad­jec­tive. Oth­ers call it Ra­bid Foam­ing at the Mouth With an Un­at­tached Ear Hang­ing Out of Your Teeth Love. Geek Love.

Sec­re­tary of State Rex Tiller­son was fired for many rea­sons: ar­gu­ing with the boss, dis­agree­ing with the boss and call­ing the boss a mo­ron. Which goes down in a re­la­tion­ship as well as a foot-long fish bone. And Sec­re­tary of Vet­er­ans Af­fairs David Shulkin says he was fired for re­sist­ing the pri­va­ti­za­tion of his ad­min­is­tra­tion's care but the White House claims he re­signed. Sounds like some­one doesn't want to pony up for un­em­ploy­ment.

Jef­fer­son Beau­re­gard Ses­sions III, our At­tor­ney Gen­eral, and Scott Pruitt, the Di­rec­tor of the EPA, are not just skat­ing but per­form­ing triple ax­els on thin ice. Ses­sions in deep ele­phant doo­doo for re­cus­ing him­self in the Rus­sia Mat­ter and Pruitt for rent­ing an apart­ment from a lob­by­ist who had mul­ti­ple clients with busi­ness in front of his depart­ment. Pretty much the def­i­ni­tion of con­flict of in­ter­est. Se­ri­ously, look it up.

In the first 15 months of this cur­rent pro­duc­tion, we've lost three White House Com­mu­ni­ca­tions Di­rec­tors. The Sec­re­taries of State, Vet­er­ans Af­fairs, Health & Hu­man Ser­vices. two Na­tional Se­cu­rity Ad­vi­sors. One Deputy Na­tional Se­cu­rity Ad­vi­sor. An At­tor­ney Gen­eral. An FBI Di­rec­tor. Deputy FBI Di­rec­tor. Di­rec­tor of the CDC. Di­rec­tor of the Of­fice of Gov­ern­ment Ethics. Di­rec­tor of NASA. Di­rec­tor of Na­tional Eco­nomic Coun­cil. Chief of staff. Chief strate­gist. Chief aide to the Chief strate­gist. Chief usher. The Sur­geon gen­eral. Umpteen per­sonal aides, two tur­tle doves and an Omarosa.

Some worry that the Ring­mas­ter will run out of lack­eys, min­ions and stooges. But no mat­ter how many quit, re­sign or slink off qui­etly in the night, never fear. There's plenty more re­place­ment toad­ies that can be called up from that ju­nior league cir­cus known as... Fox News.

Will Durst is an award-win­ning, na­tion­ally ac­claimed colum­nist, comic and for­mer sod farmer in New Ber­lin, Wis­con­sin. For a cal­en­dar of per­sonal ap­pear­ances, in­clud­ing his new one-man show, "Durst Case Sce­nario," please visit will­


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