EVEN WHILE the peaceful protesters he’d ordered to be tear-gassed and dragged out of Lafayette Square on Monday were still gasping for breath, Fat Nixon’s blessed Evangelical supporters were cheering him on from the sidelines.
“God give him strength!” called out one Mrs Horbowy in Tallahassee, Florida. “He’s doing a Jericho walk!”
In Jewish mythology, the ancient Israelites conquered the city of Jericho by following God’s orders to march around its walls seven times and then blowing their trumpets, which pleased God so much, He threw down the walls of the city.
In the instant case, however, the man doing the walking holds the position of the commander-in-chief of all American armed forces, and had deployed American military might against his own citizens, causing them to fall – and choke and bleed – so that he could stroll through the cleared square (being careful not to ruin his shoes by stepping in any pools of blood) and hold a Bible, sometimes upside-down, as a prop in a role he was playing – hopelessly amateurishly – of strongman.
As if strong men cower in bunkers.
Or threaten to declare as terrorists Americans who oppose fascism.
As if strong men beg their daddy to get a doctor to pretend he had shin spurs, or shin gunners, whatever, once baby boy didn’t have to go fight in Vietnam.
How the firetruck can anyone believe such a man is in any way strong?
But then, how could anyone believe he was anything other than amoral at best, evil at worst?
Monkey know which tree to climb.
Mrs H’s son, Benjamin, aged 37, reported that the entire Horbowy clan felt spiritually overcome – we in Trinidad would say they “catch power,” a la Spiritual Baptists – when Trump raised the Bible. (“Is that your Bible?” a reporter asked Trump. “It’s a Bible,” replied Trump in a rare, unguarded and inexplicable moment of truthfulness.)
“Look at my president!” Benjamin told the London Guardian, “He’s establishing the Lord’s kingdom in the world.”
So at least the rest of the world and the 70 per cent of Americans who support peaceful protests for justice for George Floyd know whose leader Fat Nixon is: those who fear the Old Testament God and cleave to their own, even to the point of inbreeding.
Monkey know which tree to climb.
And no orange-who-tans with greasepaint has climbed Evangelical stupidity higher than the thrice-married, p---y-grabbing, sex-worker-hush money-paying – and now Bible-toting – Trump.
Trump, said Benjamin Horbowy, “wears the full armour of God.”
Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, as they say in Ireland.
Can Trump ever dump enough horse manure on his diehard followers for them to realise what he’s burying them in?
The answer is, never! It’s not so much a case of Trump wearing the armour of God as them wearing His blinders.
Amazingly, but unsurprisingly, Fat Nixon is now openly positioning and declaring himself as the “law-and-order” candidate, like his corrupt predecessor, without either he, or his most fervent supporters, discerning that he is the incumbent! He is the sole architect of the chaos that he now promises to end.
And he knows it may yet work.
Because, across the pond, in our common Mother Country (not the one ruled by an orange man who could personally wear the title of Common Mother Country, minus the last syllable), Boris “the Clown PM” Johnson has persuaded ignorant British – largely English – voters that the Conservative (and, formerly, Unionist) Party will rescue the UK from ten years of Conservative austerity policy!
Underlying both now-unpopular populist rulers, and unifying both sets of supporters, is one theme: blatant racism, with a strong, ready-to-topple leaning into fascism.
On one side of the Atlantic, it’s packaged as Brexit, a “feeling” you don’t have to explain.
On our side, it’s both packaged as and spearheaded by Trump.
Who wears the full armour of God.
And trades in the even more complete stupidity of believers.
BC Pires is continually shocked but never surprised. Read the full version of this column on Saturday at www.BCPires.com. Happy Bir’day Rosie