Portrait of a madman
This is the portrait of a madman. The place was Pennsylvania — Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. The audience consisted of cultists, conspiracy theorists, and children of hate. And the speaker was a madman. This was the night that madness came to Pennsylvania. It was Donald Trump’s sad rally of hate and malice.
And what beautiful, flawless malice it was. The madman did not hold back on his insanity even a little bit. The madman has had other rallies, but perhaps none have shown the authenticity of the madness, the pure delusional mindset, more than this one.
The madman was supposed to be having this gathering to promote Republicans Mehmet Oz and Doug Mastriano — two madmen in themselves. Only their names were spoken little. You see, it was all about Trump as usual. His grievances, malcontent, pride, and fury were all on display.
And the people cheered. He labeled our President an enemy of the people. He promised to “save our country.” The (small) group of monsters cheered. He claimed the FBI and DOJ were “assaulting” him. The cult before him, many clad in Maga shirts, met Trump’s accusations with their own malevolent hooting and hollering. The hate poured forth into the windy evening.
In the background was mournful music. Many audience members did not know that was what the sound was. Many expressed the thought that it was the sky thundering. Awash in lunacy, eyes gleaming, the madman continued his diatribe of hate.
Mehmet Oz, at one point, was brought forlornly onto the stage. Not many of the cult members seemed into him. “He’s a RINO,” one person yelled. The dark music continued its rage. The madman’s delusions were bright as he bragged that Mark Zuckerberg of Facebook/Meta had “visited” him the week before.
The crowd was at its most evil. They were seen at one point chanting, “lock her up.” This is in front of a man who is accused of stealing classified documents—a man who possibly committed espionage. And on and on, the mournful music played.
This is the portrait of a madman. The madman’s mind is gone, engulfed in the insanity that’s perhaps been waiting for such a moment to snake out and show its most repulsive self. And the music played on.
