Trumpzilla

In Godzilla (Gojira if you're Japanese), an enormous nuclear-mutated lizard stomps around Tokyo, crushing buildings and killing people and generally raising hell.  I don't think about it much unless it's Unreasonably Large Monsters Day on Turner Classic Movies, but I can't seem to get the big green (I assume) guy out of my mind today.

I think it began when Trump took possession of the Fourth of July, which has been celebrated for decades on the National Mall with fireworks and an orchestral concert.  As with Frederick Douglass, he heard about it and decided to share his new discovery with the rest of us, like a cat presenting a dead mouse to its owner.  "A Salute To America" is the name he came up with all by himself.  Should he stumble across the information that the Declaration of Independence was signed on that date a long, long time ago somewhere, we can expect another breathless tweet.  With punctuation!!!

I'm used to this kind of thing.  ("Lincoln was a Republican!  Nobody knows that!")  I have developed a mental callus over the past three years and I didn't even flinch when he dry-humped a flag at the CPAC Rage-o-Rama before launching into a monologue of Castrovian length and porphyriac George III incoherence.   It's not the first flag he has humped, and it won't be the last, since it went down so well with the patriots.  It's part of the act now.  Kneeling for the national anthem makes you a "son of a bitch," but rubbing against a flag like a pervert on the subway is the new normal.  National symbols are toppling like dominoes.

Today he put on that ugly jacket and catastrophe cap, coaxed Melania out of her twilit lair and flew to Alabama to bother some tornado victims.  And there, in a Baptist church, he autographed Bibles as if they were remaindered copies of Tony Schwartz's The Art of the Deal.  It may be nothing more than an anthology of Iron Age recipes and folk tales to me, but it's also the central text of western civilization.  You don't get to sign it unless you wrote it.  "I'm hearing great things about King James."

This is where we are:  the orange lizard lumbers across America crushing one icon after another, shitting on national parks, spewing lies and idiocies into the air, wiping his ass with the Constitution his evangelical enablers believe to be the work of Jesus.  What's left?  Will we wake up one day and find Ivanka's vacant features on the Statue of Liberty?  A gilded "T" on the Jefferson Memorial and valet parking around the back?  Oh, I have it:  a corner of Arlington National Cemetery set aside for panty-pissing draft dodgers.  All that's needed is for an archeologist to determine where the Lee family had their outhouse.  I can imagine no fitter resting place for all the Trumps than the spot where a seditious general took a dump every morning.