Why Donald Trump is the Best President for America

*Author’s Note*
This post originally written the first week of August, 2017. Not sure why it never made it to publish then, but it stays depressingly prescient, almost three years later. Enjoy?

 

August 8, 2017.

Well, we finally did it.

We finally elected the perfect president — the most accurately American president for his time since George Washington.

Donald J. Trump.

To spin a memorable line from the Christopher Nolan Batman trilogy: Donald Trump isn’t the president we need right now, but he is the president we deserve.

The honeymoon phase of the American dream is over, and this is the USA’s true face — the one that most represents us to the world, to ourselves — whether we wish it did or not: a grotesque mask of rotted flesh and matted former hair held together by hideously outdated principals, some good ol’ fashioned white supremacy, and whatever you catch from drinking the water at Mar-a-lago for several decades straight.

In our defense, we really only did what anyone does when nothing goes wrong for them on a long enough timeline: assume it never will. And that our good fortune wasn’t a blessing (to be counted and thankful for), but an attribute of our character — a testament to our own greatness. We have confused good fortune with ~being~ good; but comeuppance-via-hubris is only ever delayed, not defeated; and America’s massive fiscal debt pales in comparison to the karmic deficit we have accumulated.

Let me be clear: Donald Trump is an American icon and a legend, and he represents us better than any legitimately elected official ever could. Trump is a breed of obliviousness so extreme that he would seem unrealistically over-the-top if he were a character on a fictional TV show from the 1970s. He is a racist, misogynistic, homophobic, self-important, uncaring, uncharismatic, idiotic, sexist, egomaniacal, aloof elitist whose only notable qualities stem from having money handed to him at a young age, swindling money from the less fortunate/less intelligent at an older age, and name recognition that — prior to 2015 — was primarily from being an easy punchline or vaguely familiar pop culture reference that people knew, but they didn’t know why they knew (like Silly Putty or Tiktok).

Barack Obama acted how we wished we could act, spoke how we wish we could speak, was confident like we wished we were confident, and was intelligent like we wished we were intelligent. Donald Trump, unfortunately, acts how we actually act, speaks like we actually speak, is confident how we’re actually confident (undeservedly), and is intelligent how we’re actually intelligent (that is to say, not very).

We’ve let ourselves be casually racist, low key intolerant, high key entitled, and major key swept up by easy catchphrases for so many years that we actually conjured into flesh the physical manifestation of all the qualities we wished we didn’t have, but always knew were right there festering below the surface — and we just never took the time to purge from within ourselves. Donald Trump is the Jesus Christ of the Religion of Self, the god of entitlement made manifest, the ego incarnate. If the Holy Trinity is The Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost; The Don represents the unholy Trumpity of The Falter, The Dumb, and The Lowly Host.

But forced jokes aside, there is a very real chance that we have put a man into office who might actually get us killed. As a nation. You can picture it, can’t you? Like, it doesn’t seem out of the realm of what *could* go down, right? How horrifying is that? Now to be perfectly honest, I don’t really think that’s gonna happen. Even the craziest of the crazy (and surely the men with their hands on the triggers these days are just that) understand how little a zero-sum game benefits them. But think about how wild, how outlandish it is that the ~possibility~ even exists. That you can imagine a reality where Kim-Jong-Trump wakes up one day and just /decides/ to start a world war. (Or maybe even an apocalypse, just by virtue of how much better we’ve gotten at world warring).

Or maybe we’ll just have three and half really backwards, really oppressive, really tremendously awful years. And if that’s our best case scenario, it will have been too light a punishment for all our previous crimes. We should be so lucky.

However, I think in one form or another, what’s left after the dust clears and the ashes settle (possibly literally) will not be the same stupid tropes of small men who bungled or outright fabricated massive disasters so that their fragile little egos could feel validated, but the hope and kindness and love of those who endured. You could call it a different form of insanity — the Newton’s Third Law of emotional energy — but I truly believe that whether or not it has a name or there is anyone even left to name it, that you will always be able to feel the love of those who knew better, who were better, who did better. And that was always what love had going for it anyway, wasn’t it? That you could leave something bigger and stronger and more unnameable than yourself or your “rightness” behind, and that you didn’t do it because the history books (lol books) would keep track of it or you’d get a commensurate amount of glory for every good deed done, but just that love was its own reward (cliché or not). Because love poured out, was really just making extra room for more love to be received. The worst things in life can last a long time — three and a half years; a lifetime; all of human history, maybe — but the best things in life are infinite. Hope is infinite. Love is infinity. And love can’t be elected, impeached, and isn’t bound by term limits. I think that’s from a first draft of Corinthians 13 that the apostle Paul wrote on his wordpress blog a long time ago. Retweet. YOLO.

Donald Trump is who we are, America. And like anyone who’s ever had a long, cold stare into the mirror after a night of heavy drinking, this is the moment where we — as a community, as a nation — get to decide if who we are is who we’re gonna stay, or if we are going to raise our standards for ourselves, and truly become better. We the people get to choose if The Don is going to continue to be the reflection we see in the mirror in the mornings when our head is pounding and we’re regretting all our past choices, or if he’s just going to be the molted husk that we will have left behind after our metamorphosis into the beautiful creature America has the potential to become.

One outcome or the other, America as we know it ends with Donald Trump. But the real America starts with you. With us. With We. With The People. Let’s build ourselves into something we can be prouder of than a failed reality TV show personality, failed businessman, failed politician, successful sex offender, and failed father figure. Let’s make America great, for the first time.

Play on,
Dustin

 

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Yelp Review of the First Thanksgiving

In a rare stroke of historical fortune, I managed to get my hands on Yelp reviews from the VERY FIRST Thanksgiving(!). Long considered some of the very first Yelp reviews ever documented, these offer some amazing and unique insight into our country’s history. Peruse and enjoy.

Edward “E.W.” Winslow:
Ugh, where do I even begin? At one time we used to come to the cornucopia at least four times a month, unfortunately in recent years the quality and service has degraded to the point that it is self abuse to even consider eating there.

I think that the management and the employees think that this poor excuse for service and food is acceptable considering how busy they are on Friday and Saturday nights, but most of the activity is outside in the parking lot and we have gone to eating elsewhere prior to showing up at Bobs and seeing our friends.

Here’s what you do.
1. Go to Ribs USA and have ribs and a pitcher.
2. Go Bob’s Parking Lot and look at the cars and see friends.
3. Pick up a latte at Starbucks next to Bob’s.

1/5 Stars, would not recommend.

S.E. Morrison:
Methinks I love it here!

My grandparents used to take me to this sort of thing when I was a kid which contributed to my status of “chubster.”

I have been begging my best friend Eric for years to go and he finally gave in.  We arrived late to avoid the crowds and seated almost immediately.

I remember the burgers being a bit bigger or maybe I just grew into them. They are delicious and the secret sauce is awesome. I enjoyed a diet coke and ended the evening with the chocolate ice cream cake. I nearly stabbed my friend’s hand off when he attempted to hijack some of my cake! It was that good. Of course I’d never resort to violence in a group like this, we just get along too well! :)

4/5 Stars, probably would recommend.

Asst. Chief Kevin “River Bull” Cuadogah:
Cranberry sauce was runny, turkey was dry, but the goose was okay. Stick around for the pumpkin pie though, you do NOT want to miss that! ;) Thought it was odd that several of the cooks asked me for tips on growing corn and catching fish so they could add new courses to their menu, not going to worry about it for now though..besides what’s the harm in sharing some tips & tricks — especially if it means more of that pie 8-)

3/5 Stars, may or may not recommend.

Alexander Young:
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy is this place so famous??? WHY?

I have an iron stomach, but every time I eat here I get sick. I initially get mentally sick off the taste/smell/consistency of the food and then later I get physically sick off the food itself.

Every time I go here, I ask myself, “Why did you forget that you hate this place AGAIN?”

If you must try this place, please at least refrain from getting a tuna melt. That’s just plain stupid!

1/5 Stars, would not recommend.

William Bradford:
institution? yes
but the food is horrible
ick ick yuck ick ick.

2/5 Stars, probably would not recommend.

Linda Coombs, Aquinnah Wampanoag:
I felt compelled to write a review, even after dining here many times. After seeing some of the other reviews, I think they are giving them a bad rap. If you visit an establishment one time and have a bad experience, don’t shoot down the business on one visit. Give them another chance and go again. Fortunately I have never had a bad experience either inside or with take out orders. Yes we all have our preference for food, so I just stick to the items I like. So far 5 stars for breakfast, the pulled pork sandwich, the turkey burger and the chili. Service has always been 5 stars. It’s a family place and I love the vibe of the noise. We live right across the street and I can tell you that yes parking can be a problem on Friday night, but come down our street (Rose) and park, police won’t bother you in the late afternoon/early evening, and lots of parking on Valley. We love it here, especially because it is an historical site and represents so many memories for so many people. We need more family friendly food places in this day and age of trendy hipster joints. Put down your veggie wrap and green tea and have a turkey burger and cranberry sauce milkshake once in awhile. Life is short. Also, could definitely take these guys in a fight.

5/5 Stars, would definitely recommend.

Sarah Josepha Hale:
Forget Denny’s or IHOP! This place is awesome! Food is just as good if not better than those other places, but you mainly come here for the environment and nostalgia. And every Friday, they have car shows! Waitstaff seemed like mostly English-as-a-second-language speakers, but what they lacked in service skills they made up for in passion for their craft and work ethic. Could def take them in a war, though, if that sort of thing ever went down.

5/5 Stars, would definitely recommend.

Chief Temecuah “Beverly” Massasoit:
Flashback! OMG! Too bad there are not more of these places like when I was a kid! I loved taking pictures with the ginormous statue outside the building wearing his red and white pants! Good times, good times!

So I went back as an adult and got the original combo because I know how it’s supposed to taste! And OMG! THE SAME. NOTHING has changed except the location! :-D That is probably a good thing because I’d be a regular fixture and they’d be paying me to stay away! I of course washed it all down with a Coke! I WAS SO NOT WATCHING MY WAISTLINE THIS NIGHT, maybe watching it expand! ;)

The sauce — which you can buy in some grocery stores — was SOOOO YUMMY DELICIOUS! I was such a piggy! I of course could NOT finish it all but I sure had fun trying!

I needed to be rolled out of there by the time I was done! I certainly couldn’t drive so I had to just sit and wait for some of my food to go down! YIKES! Can somebody say “GLUT ALERT!” LOL So shameful! But I certainly enjoyed myself!

But it was DELICIOUS and I WILL BE BACK! The wait staff was really nice and friendly. They always were! I remember when I was a kid I learned a big money lesson here one year around Christmastime, which I have NEVER FORGOTTEN! In fact I am REALLY GOOD with money NOW! Try to take advantage of me, cheat me, steal from me and it will be the last thing you do!  LOL! ;)

I LOVE YOU!  Don’t evaaaa leave me! ;)

Could def take them in battle tho, and their knowledge of growing corn and netting fish is like NOPE. lol. Looks like they’re gonna need us for a long, long time. 8-)

5/5 Stars, would definitely recommend.

Squanto:
Yawn, felt like a worse version of what I could’ve made for myself at home. Points for effort tho.

3/5 Stars, may or may not recommend.

Eleanor Billington:
just another place where me and my ride or die betches can GET TURNT UP (lol i’m looking at you Elizabeth Hopkins, Mary Brewster, and Susanna (White) Winslow :-* xoxo). The vibe can get WEIRD if you stay long enough to wear out your welcome, but me and ma gurlssz always know how to keep the party going ALL NIGHT LONG ;) did someone say SHOTS? YASSSS PLZ.

5/5 Stars, would definitely recommend.

Play on,
Dustin

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Why Latin is the Best Language

Someone said to me the other day (or maybe today or maybe not at all…honestly does the setup really matter?) that the best language is English. These are the sort of deep-thinker conversationalists with whom I am forced to interact. Then they made the mistake of asking me what I thought the best language was. What a boron!

(Boron is a word I made up that means boring moron — I invented this word by combining the words boring and moron. Boron is also the chemical element of atomic number 5, a nonmetallic solid/metalloid, if you’re ever on Jeopardy)

They’re not dumb for asking that question, they’re dumb for not already knowing the answer! Everybody and their step-brother from Daddy’s first marriage knows that there is only one best language (duh, that’s what “best” means), and that language is: Latin.

What’s that? You aren’t 100% sure that Latin is better than any other language that has ever been invented or will ever be invented (probably by JRR Tolkien or more likely by George RR Martin because Tolkien died in World War I fighting off the Nazis and syphilis)? Well take a second to pull the suppositories out of your ears and the Q-tips out of your ass, because you’re about to absorb something more useful than the Plan B you took with breakfast this morning.

For starters, Latin is a dead language — meaning the Italic Latins and Ancient Roman civilizations that spoke that language went extinct probably ten or more years ago. But hold up, even though native Latin speakers are as extinct as the dodo bird or the commercial market for dodo bird leashes that I invested heavily into in the 90s, people all around the world STILL KNOW AND SPEAK THAT LANGUAGE. That means Latin is actually an undead language, a zombie dialect, and that already makes Latin badass enough to be the main bad guy in the next season of The Walking Dead.

…Why won’t you die already?! What kind of language are you??

 

The Advent of @ocdustino: A History

the face of @ocdustino…look how pretty he is when he’s not talking.

People  almost never  always ask me about my preferred social media handle — which is @ocdustino for those of you who neglected to read the title of this post — where it came from, what it means, why I have it tattooed on my left ass cheek, etc. And with it being my twitterversary week (yes, that’s a thing; no, I’m not dating anyone. I fail to see the connection) it seemed like a good time to explore the legend of @ocdustino. Buckle in, cadets, you’re in for the sort of history lesson they don’t give you in school. Except maybe homeschool if I homeschool my future kids and I’m really hungover/scrambling for some filler topics that day.

The year was 1867, I was a freshman in college, and the lightbulb had just recently been invented, which meant that we could use our computers indoors, any time of the day or night! This quickly led to the invention of something called AOL Instant Messenger (or AIM for short, because you know if your acronym needs an acronym, you’re doing it right). AIM was primarily invented as a means for people to post their favorite Brand New/Something Corporate lyrics or disparaging passive-aggressive comments about their boy/girlfriend, but quickly evolved into a sort of instant messaging service that was kind of like a two-person internet chatroom, but somehow not as creepy as an actual internet chatroom. Meeting and then getting captured/raped/killed by strangers from the internet wasn’t a thing at the time (craigslist hadn’t been invented yet), but because superheroes/secret identities were still really popular (our Batman was Michael Keaton — ha! Can you believe that? Michael Keaton!) everyone used pseudonyms (known as “screen names”) to effectively hide their true identities from strangers, while also expressing their interests to those same strangers. Screen names like “CheerKick44”, “Platypussy02”, “ExtraExtraSloppy”, “GoldfishDanzer”, “Star19Catcher”, “DivaQueen02” were the norm (fun fact: I only made two of those up). Pretty rad nicknames right? Your screen name said a lot about who you were, and you wanted it to be cool, concise, and clever. With some numbers at the end like the year you graduated or your jersey number from high school athletics because someone probably already had the version of the screen name you wanted that didn’t have numbers.

Liar, Liar, Lance on Fire

I only used this many kinds of drugs…

Two stories centered around deception broke this week: Lance Armstrong’s not-as-tearful-as-you-would-expect admission to using performance enhancing drugs, and Manti Te’o’s (that can’t be the right way to apostrophize his last name but I’m out of other ideas) imaginary dead cancer victim girlfriend.

If you haven’t heard the details, I highly recommend using the search website I invented, http://www.google.com, to get a summa

Here’s my take.