The Most Powerful Tattoo in the World

As president, Trump is legally entitled to tattoo the Great Seal of the United States on his penis. Doing so would allow his wife Melania to symbolically felate the nation.

Think of all the positive changes that could happen if you were symbolically felated by the president’s wife. And his mistress. And the other one too.

A lot can be accomplished from the Bully Prepuce because symbols have power and so do penises–when they’re good and ready. And now with viagra they’re all ready even if they’re no good.

You could make a very high-quality porno if you found talented Obama-Trump lookalikes. Think of the possibilities. Trump has. Omarosa is his Michelle.

It should be fairly easy to find porn actors who look like Eric and Don junior. In fact, I think they all do.

Porno presidency is the next evolutionary stage. We’ve gone from radio presidencies to TV presidencies and Hollywood presidencies. Now we have a reality show presidency.

But Trump can’t just wait for evolution to happen: he needs to go the next level. Public Relations 101 says get ahead of a negative story, so if the release of a Moscow hookers sex tape is inevitable, it’s only logical that Trump should do his own preemptive porn movie, one where he controls all the variables.

And that’s where a presidential seal tattoo would serve him–and us–very well indeed. The crazy publicity resulting from Trump’s release of Hail to the Penis: Extreme Vetting #MAGA! would drown out any noise from the release of the Moscow footage.

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Applied Conspiracism: Giving a Name to Trump’s Amorphous Political Philosophy

Conspiracism: The belief that major historical and political events are brought about as the result of a conspiracy between interested parties, or are manipulated by or on behalf of an unknown group of influential people; belief in or advocacy of conspiracy theories.Oxford Living Dictionary

Trump’s conspiracism deserves its own term.

First, there is the breadth of Trump’s conspiracism. Unlike many conpiracists, Trump does not limit himself to just one or two conspiracy theories. Virtually everything is best explained (or explained away) as the result of conspiracy: global warming, foreign competition, positive job numbers under Obama, the Battle for Mosul before he took it over, Obama’s birth and presidency, Ted Cruz’ father, the Deep State, etc. (Caveat: when he’s feeling charitable, Trump will use the explanation of stupid leadership, as in bad trade deals or bad military strategy).

As an “ecumenical” conspiratorial thinker, Trump is able to deploy any and all possible conspiracy theories as the situation demands; and of course invent new ones. This makes Trump’s brand of conspiracism much more flexible and practicable on a day-to-day basis when handling the various problems of campaigning and governing.

Amorphous conspiracism also allows Trump to publicly communicate with his fellow conspiracists semi-surreptitiously through hints and omissions of condemnation, such as republishing conspiratorial propaganda and then excusing it as a mistake, an oversight. The message to fellow conspiracists is: I’m with you, and my tepid public retractions are just a front to appease people not yet enlightened by conspiracism.

Most importantly, Trump’s brand of conspiricism is centered around the unspoken credo that fighting the vast conspiratorial forces of the world requires that one engage in counter-conspiracies, even if that means colluding with openly hostile foreign powers like Russia.

Trump’s conspiratorial political philosophy and conspiratorial political practice thus requires its own new, huge, fabulous term. Amorphous conspiracism? Ecumenical or universalist conspiracism?

“Applied conspiracism” is advantaged over these other terms for several reasons: Trump used conspiracism to win the Republican nomination and the presidency; Trump is now positioned to act on his conspiratorial beliefs; the President shows no sign of being any less conspiratorial than he was when he was an outsider candidate; and lastly, because it’s becoming more and more apparent that Trump and his team conspired with internet trolls, white racists, and hostile foreign powers in their campaign to gain power.

Presidential Appearances versus Random Winners

After Donald Trump called her ugly and then flip-flopped and called her beautiful, I decided to investigate the matter myself by trying to have a sex fantasy involving Carly Fiorina.

I figured I’d give it a shot. If everyone deserves sex (supposedly) then certainly everyone deserves a sex fantasy too. And she is slim. Slimmer than Donald. Or me.

At first things were pretty good. It was interesting and different. “Ms. Fiorina, are you sure you want to do this—on national television?! Do you really want to sacrifice your poll numbers for my pole numbers?”

But she was insatiable—she wanted it more than the presidency…

But then I got distracted—phone rang, email chimed, cat puked, something—and the fantasy died. And that’s the sign of a deficient sex fantasy, not being able to survive a minor interruption. A good one should be able to last all the way through a winning online poker game. And cat puke can always wait…

So big deal, does that really disqualify her for the presidency?

Well, when you think back on it, most of our presidents have been doable or at least doable emeritus (i.e., hot when they were young). Mom thought Reagan was cute. I’m sure my grandmother loved him. Even LBJ had that louder-than-life Texas charisma.

The only non-doable modern president we’ve had was Nixon and he got impeached. (Clinton got impeached because he was a little too doable, but that’s a different issue not related to Fiorina, sorry.) And our ugliest president—Abraham Lincoln—got shot by a really handsome guy.

You have to go back to Taft to get a modern president comparable to Fiorina or Chris Christie. Could we elect a female Taft? Are we ready? What if Margaret Thatcher or Golda Meier had been as huge as Taft or Churchill or Sharon? And if Hillary stops dieting again, will she become a female Taft?

Rather than attractiveness, charisma, or even intelligence, what we really need in a president is luck. A lucky president means a lucky United States. Luck will get you through when strength and intelligence let you down. Divine Right of Kings should be replaced with the Random Luck of of Doofus Politicians.

When their luck runs out, we kill ’em. Their death then retroactively proves their unluckiness and hence our decision to kill ’em. We can never be wrong!

And while being born pretty might be a sign of good luck, it’s not definitive—some of the luckiest bastards in the world are the ugliest. Billy Joel, Larry King, Jeff Bezos, etc.

Therefore, to choose the next president, we need more than just speeches and debates to decide the matter. We need more than just giant dildo tug-of-wars (see Perverted Wisdom article https://pervertedwisdom.com/2012/10/28/supplement-presidential-debates-with-giant-dildo-tug-of-war/ ), useful though that would be. We need random games of chance to see who’s the luckiest.

Donald Trump’s Heroes

Chattanooga military recruiters:  They’re heroes because they got shot. I prefer military recruiters who don’t get shot.

Medgar Evers:  I prefer civil rights activists who don’t get assassinated. And he did nothing for veterans–nothing!

Jesus:  Call me Muslim or Jewish but I prefer messiahs who don’t get crucified.

Davy Crockett:  He completely failed at stopping Mexican immigration.

Robin Williams:  I prefer comedians who don’t kill themselves. Suicidal comedians who want to kill themselves should place banana peels on the edge of the Grand Canyon and dance dance dance!

King Arthur:  Was a loser! For England’s sake I truly hope he was not “the once-and-future king.”

Nathan Hale:  I prefer patriots and spies who don’t get caught and hanged. My only regret is that he gave his life for our country–I’d rather he gave us information on the enemy like he was supposed to.

Donald Trump:  You want heroic? I held onto my Facebook stock back when every so-called “expert” said it was overvalued. Now I’m even more rich, very rich.

The Presidential Assassination that Scarred My Generation

I was barely a bump in the womb when John F. Kennedy was shot, so his murder taught me only one thing–I got to get me a 16 mm color motion picture camera… Or at least Super-8!

What scarred me–what scarred all of us if we’d just admit it–was the assassination of President Ford when I was 11 years old. (September 1975)

Followed by another assassination attempt three weeks later! (also September 1975)

Both attempts failed. Both were by women. One was a follower of Manson, the other just an ordinary political extremist.

No woman had ever attempted to assassinate a US president. And now here’s two in one month!

The shock and horror of JFK’s assassination taught the WWII generation and their Baby Boomer kids how to despair and lose hope–a valuable lesson which they would have to relearn in ‘Nam.

But rather than shock and horror, it was the absurdity and the banality of Ford’s failed assassination attempts that subliminally taught my generation an even more demoralizing lesson: really weird bad shit is normal–it can happen twice in three weeks!

And it can not even matter!

And what if the “women’s libbers” are wrong?

The nihilism of those object lessons was simply crushing. Even if subliminally.

So the next time you see someone my age doing the things we do, just remember, they had to live through the bi-monthly shooting of a sitting US President and grow up thinking that was normal and no big deal.

Gerry ducks a bullet

Gerry ducks another:  the advantages of having a dumb jock for President.

Go Ger’ Go!