There’s something wrong here
Some time ago, I wrote an article in which I likened Lindsey Graham to an enchanted sailor and Donald Trump to the evil siren that calls to him. It’s not just Graham, though. There is, if one looks closely, something sick — sick and grotesque — about how many in the GOP respond to Donald Trump.
In many ways, ALL of the GOP are enchanted sailors. They are enchanted beings because they worship — not like, not admire, not appreciate but WORSHIP at the altar of Donald John Trump. We saw this behavior from the beginning. We saw that golden statue they brought in at the CPAC meeting—a statue of Donald Trump.
Worshiping humans is more than unhealthy, and that’s putting it mildly. They WORSHIP his law-breaking ways, respond to his calls for vengeance, and put all that is wicked ahead of all that is good, all in servitude to Donald Trump. We saw this occur just the other day in a story that’s getting little attention.
Michael McDonald is the chair of the Nevada Republican Party. Nevada. We must win Nevada, so please remember them when you volunteer Anyway, this Nevada chairman compared Donald Trump to — God. “What more can be said than, thank God we’re here in Sunset Park to worship and bring back the greatest president we’ve ever known in our generation.”
No good ever came from worshiping a human being. None. I want to bring back the sailor, siren metaphor for just a moment. In these mythical tales, there was ALWAYS just one ending to these enchanted people who heeded the siren’s call and waded into choppy waters to meet them. They drowned.
They drowned, the murmurings of their fake objects of worship likely still roaring in their ears. They were enchanted beings, and the sirens were their drug. Sirens can be male as well as female. They can be charming but are always deadly. This comment from McDonald is a rare, truthful statement. Because yes, some Republicans truly despise Donald Trump in secret. Some hate him.
But not all. Some have eagerly given away their souls to him which slipped through their fingers like strands of sand. The problem is once it’s gone, one can never get it back. All of it is lost to someone who has zero interest in them except to use them when they can, to pump them full of hate, to turn them into little servants, empty and meek objects full of nothing but the call of the evil one, not a God, not anything but a mere (wicked — so very wicked) human being.
