Even by modern, cataclysmically hysterical standards, the postelection histrionics by the losers take the proverbial cake. Poor Graydon Carter, the Vanity Fair honcho. He wrote things about the Donald I would not dream of writing about an African-American hero like O.J. Simpson. I advise my friend Graydon to drink some retsina, that awful Greek wine that is known to calm down the volatile Greek character even when the name Angela Merkel is mentioned.
But the one that really won it for the Donald was Vogue magazine. I kid you not. When those preening, mincing, limp-wristed ninnies followed their Führer Wintour and denounced Trump, something like 10 million undecided voters switched to the man from Queens. If those whores are against him he must be doing something right, was the line of the undecided. The ones who are cheering, of course, are the shrinks. I spoke to Dr. Prof. Klinghoffer, resident psychiatrist at a Midtown loony bin, and he was rubbing his hands with pleasure and anticipation. In a heavy German accent he told me that gay people in general and gay transgenders in particular are very offended by the electoral results and fearful that the U.S. will revert to pre-1967 Britain, when homosexuals were arrested on sight while billing and cooing, and nine-tenths of the Conservative Party’s members of Parliament were in jail for homosexual acts.
Oy vey! The only ones who have not been at all traumatized by Adolf Hitler’s, sorry, Donald J. Trump’s victory are the three main networks, The New Yorker, and The New York Times. Nicholas Kristof, a Times columnist who gives the impression when writing that being a white American man and a Sonderkommando in Dachau are one and the same, attempted some mea culpa in a postelection column, but he’s as credible as those towelheads who promise seventy virgins and lotsa pilaf to the idiots who blow themselves up.
My favorite Times columnists are two of the biggest bullshitters ever, Roger Cohen and Paul Krugman. The former compared a possible Trump victory to that of Adolf Hitler in 1933. The latter wrote that it was “favorable coverage by the media that won it for Trump.” My advice to both men is to seek immediate help from Dr. Prof. Klinghoffer and also drop some acid. Their brains have been so fried, the acid might actually help. And as far as the New Yorker writers are concerned, I think they should be forced to read their long and tedious articles nonstop and continue to do so until their next colonoscopy. (Which should clear their heads for a while.)
And now a few words of advice for our Muslim friends cowering under their beds waiting for the Gestapo. Relax, eat some rice and kebab, beat your wives at will—it will relax both of you—teach the kiddies to make a good Molotov cocktail, and make sure you pray facing Mecca 63 times a day and 64 times at night. Scream “Allahu Akbar!” as loud as you can and as often as possible. Move into Trump Tower—it is a strategic move, to say the least. Keep eating your dates and you’ll be fine. Do not, I repeat, do not hire Chelsea Clinton at $5 million per, her sell-by date has expired.
That’s about it, dear readers. What won it for the Donald was the fact that most people are intelligent and can tell a phony when they see one. Phonies like the media and the Times, that is. Better yet, people who go to college nowadays are brainwashed by political correctness, which has them believing their brains are up their crotch and vice versa. This can be very traumatic and puts their thinking process out of kilter. Hence those who did not have their brains located up their ass voted for the Donald, and the rest for Hillary. A little knowledge can be a very dangerous thing. And some full disclosure: I met Donald J. Trump only once. I was seated next to Melania at a grand dinner about fifteen years ago and we spoke about Bill Clinton’s catastrophic decision to bomb a Christian country in order to establish a Muslim belt in the Balkans. She agreed. That’s when some jerk from the Times sitting across from us rudely put in his two cents in a very uppity and condescending way. I told him to mind his own business and that he would be sucking on his gums if he did not. (He shut up rather quickly.) After the dinner I saw a large orange figure approaching me with a big smile on his face calling me the greatest. It was the soon-to-be 45th president of the United States. Melania obviously had said some nice things about me. I’ve never seen him since, but I was the first to endorse him in The American Conservative in June 2015. (And predicted that he would never make it.) And now we can say Merry Christmas again, Merry Christmas to all you Takimag readers out there, as well as those Times readers in the insane asylum being treated by Dr. Prof. Klinghoffer.
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