Various fictional literary characters describe their visit to Trumpland.
Christ, I thought my visit down the rabbit hole was nuts but Wonderland’s got nothing on Trumpland. Yeah, maybe I had to deal with a hot-tempered Red Queen but she’s a pussycat compared to that Orange King in Trumpland. He’s even madder than the Mad Hatter.
Thinking back, it was probably crazy for me to drink that potion that shrunk me to miniature size or to eat that cake that made me nine-feet tall. But at least I didn’t risk my life like that Orange King who tried to get me to ingest bleach, use high-intensity UV light internally and take something called hydroxychloroquine.
I thought that tea party I had in Wonderland with the Mad Hatter, the March Hare and the Dormouse was about as crazy as it gets. But then I ended up in a Cabinet Meeting in Trumpland with the Orange King. It made even less sense than the tea party as his daughter and son-in-law spoke all manner of nonsense and characters like the White Pence, the Pompous Pompeo and the Ruby Rudy spent the whole time praising the King.
The Red Queen’s croquet party was unlike anything I’d ever seen until I ended up at a giant rally led by the Orange King. Whereas she repeatedly called out “Off with her head!” he continually shouts “Lock her up! Lock her up!” I don’t know which was worse, her temper tantrums or his never-ending insults and lies.
The Cat in the Hat
I sure did have fun with Sally and Sam. Since their mother was out, that afforded me all manner of opportunities to play tricks on the youngsters. Trying to balance a bunch of things that fell to the ground was great fun but essentially harmless.
But that wasn’t the case in Trumpland. I discovered that I was an amateur trickster compared to the man I met there called the Donald. While I introduced my young friends to Thing One and Thing Two, the Donald seemed to have an unlimited series of companions who could cause giant messes Things One and Two could only dream of.
It seems that the messes made in Trumpland have no consequences. There is no mother to discipline the culprits, especially the Donald, and there seems no end to the giant messes he can create.
The Donald even bragged: “This mess is so big and so deep and so tall, we’ll just have to call it the Mexican Wall.” I thought I was a mischievous type but I couldn’t compete with the Donald. Frankly, I was glad to escape from his big white house and make it home in one piece.
I can remember when I first heard about Catch-22. Once the insanity of it had been explained to me, all I could say was: “That’s some catch, that Catch-22.” But it had nothing on the Donald.
World War II was crazy, that’s for sure, but Trumpland was even crazier. That guy, the Donald, lies so much he makes Milo Minderbinder sound like a priest. And he wouldn’t just lie and then say something different the following week; he’d lie and say the exact opposite in the next breath.
I think of all the insane things I saw in the war and figured I’d never, ever see anything that crazy again but I was wrong. The Donald said he won when his opponent had three million more votes than him. He looked at an Inauguration crowd and declared it the biggest in history and twice as big as the previous one although pictures showed it was not even half the size.
I hate to say it but I’d rather fly another fifty missions than return to Trumpland.
When I found out about the Matrix, I thought that was the wackiest thing ever. But, believe me, there’s worse. If you take The Donald’s white anti-malaria pill, all of a sudden you’re in this bizarre world called Trumpland where up is down, down is up and Donald Trump is President. All I can say is that I wish I could have gone back in time and taken that blue pill.