As we enter day six of the three-week long funeral, remembrance, visitation, and worship of the deified John McCain, I find my spirits lifted by revisiting Trump’s plausibly deniable shiv from a little over a year ago:
My first reaction was that it was one hell of a troll–the prognosis for McCain’s aggressive brain cancer is poor. It’s highly improbable he will “get well soon”. He’ll likely die soon, within the next couple of years.
That the cancer was progressive and that McCain’s prognosis was terminal was well known. Trump was surely aware that McCain would not “get well soon”–unless that referred to permanently getting rid of all the pains and stresses life entails!
Seeing every member of the Inner Uniparty gathered in the Cathedral–Trump himself conspicuously and explicitly uninvited–was clarifying. Ted Kennedy’s death didn’t even generate one-tenth this amount of Establishment masturbating. It’s gratuitous and gross.
It has renewed the vigor of my support for the president. And it made me think of that scene from Mars Attacks!. Yeah, you know the one I’m referring to:
In a figurative sense, regarding their political careers, of course. Nothing more. Nothing!
McCain pushed more amnesties, started more wars, and bankrupted more future generations than anyone else in US history. Through the course of his dreadfully long congressional career, he never missed an opportunity to stab his party, his people, and his country in the back, whether it was throwing the 2008 election to Obama or saving Obamacare after promising for years to repeal it.
It’s hardly surprising then that even in this putatively hyper-partisan age, his approval rating was higher among Democrats than it was among Republicans:
Think it’s uncouth to express relief at another man’s passing? Fine, I’ll admit there is one thing he did in my lifetime that I approve of. It happened the Saturday before last. Good riddance.