The Donald Is in Love

Introduction

Last Saturday, at one of those campaign revival rallies that make him feel so alive because it’s all about me me me, President Trump shared the following happy news with his angry white male supporters and thereby the rest of us:

I was really tough and so was he, and we were going back and forth. And then, we fell in love. OK? No, really. He wrote me beautiful letters, and they’re great letters. We fell in love.

Wow. What incredible news! Let me start by congratulating the happy couple of Donald Trump and Kim Jong-un. Mazel tov! I cannot but be astounded by the glorious union between the duly elected president of the United States and the supreme leader of North Korea, who is third in a family dynasty of ruthlessly murderous dictators with communist veneer.

A History with Rough Trade

Admittedly, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. The Donald has consistently demonstrated a soft spot for conniving and murderous strong men of the worst kind. After all, it was another of that sort, our beloved president of Russia Vladimir Putin, who helped install him in the White House in the first place. But even if we disregard the Donald’s attraction to this roughest of rough trade, we could have seen it coming if only we had known where to look.

After all, the kindling of this queerest of all love affairs was all out there in the open. First were the rhetorical fireworks promising “fire and fury like the world has never seen” (Trump). At the time, the threat of ending the world in nuclear armageddon really was believable and rather frightening. I sure stocked up on potassium iodine tablets. But now we know that it only served as pretext for the exchange of pet names. Jong-un picked the rather descriptive “mentally deranged US dotard,” whereas the Donald went with the very rock ’n’ roll “rocket man.” I mean who doesn’t just adore Sir Elton John? She makes great music, knows every bold faced name, and is just so cuddly and colorful. You go, girl!

Next came the summit between the future lovebirds in Singapore. The Donald showed up with his own Riefenstahl movie, which he had commissioned for just the occasion and which literally promised the world. For once, the Donald also kept a promise because he (figuratively) did hand Jong-un the world. Before the summit, nobody would talk to, let alone invite, the “crazy fat kid” from the hermit kingdom (John McCain being his maverick self — may he rest in a North Korean prison camp). Now people the world over pay close attention to the man who came in from the Korea. Though Jong-un still doesn’t get those coveted first row seats at the fashion shows in Paris. Give it time, dear respected leader. Give it time!

But then after Singapore it got awfully quiet. We pinko snowflakes from the reality-based community thought that was because the summit was big on symbolism and carefully staged photo ops but entirely devoid of actual summiting — with warmed up memoranda from twenty years ago sold as the latest in Pyongyang style. But no, it was just that the Donald and Jong-un had moved on to a more intimate phase of their courtship.

As the great tweetator so proudly revealed to an incredulous world, the two of them were engaged in that most traditional of courtship rituals, the intimate letter discretely delivered by confidants. It really is quite inspiring how the Donald — a grand master of that highest of art forms of angry straight white men, the attack tweet — turns warm and fuzzy when it comes to the customs of bourgeois society long destroyed by capitalism in its most destructive and inhuman form. Sadly, the effects seem to wear off rather quickly. Only hours after coming out as in love with Jong-un, the Donald remarked to a female reporter: “You are not thinking. You never do!”

Three Deadly Threats

I don’t want to rain in on the lovebirds’ parade, but I have three concerns that each may turn into existential threats to the relationship in no time. Besides the parade would have to be in Pyongyang anyways — the US military has already rejected one for Washington DC — and I don’t fancy traveling to that drab holdover of Soviet inspired megalomania cast in concrete just to attend some stupid parade. But back to my three concerns.

First, the Donald has clearly outdone himself with his fourth life partner, seeing that the 72 year old is entering a bonafide May December relationship with a 27 year old. That is bound to cause significant friction between them. I mean which man in his late twenties or early thirties wants to be stuck at home changing his aging lover’s adult diapers, especially when he is a murderous spoilt brat and could instead be out there blackmailing the rest of the world with the treat of nuclear annihilation. Worse, the extreme age difference — roughly double the already pronounced 24 years between Donald and Melania — puts an unavoidable expiration date of about a decade on Donald’s and Jong-un’s future together — if all goes well that is.

Second, there is Melania. As far as we know, the Donald has not yet handed her divorce papers. She probably first heard about her husband’s new lover when we first heard about him, on TV. That alone is sufficient to turn any woman into a fury out to teach her philandering hubby the respect women deserve but so many men can’t be bothered to show.

But Melania had to endure months of her husband’s past conquests being plastered all over the news. In fact, for a while, you couldn’t turn on cable news without watching a segment with Stormy Daniels, a porn actress the Donald boinked the same weekend he also boinked a Playboy bunny. Melania spent that particular weekend at home changing the diapers of the couple’s newborn son. So it is no surprise that she is already on edge and publicly trolling her husband in her role as First Lady by campaigning against cyber-bullying. Add his very public revelation of a much younger, male lover and you have the recipe for a very acrimonious divorce!

Third, there always is the question of each partner’s families and their relationships. At first glance, there are significant parallels. The Donald runs both his real estate company fronting for a Russian money laundering operation and the United States government as a family affair. Sons Don Jr and Eric are taking care of the private Russian interests, whereas daughter Ivanka and son-in-law Jared are taking care of Russian state interests — plus opening new avenues of corruption with China and Arab oil states.

Comparably, Jong-un not only is third in a direct family line of North Korean dictators, he also relies on the support of his aunt Kim Kyong-hui and sister Kim Yo-jong in high ranking government positions that control propaganda, security forces, and the army. Yet worryingly for the Donald’s children, Jong-un has not been averse to having family members executed or murdered, lest they become a threat to his regime. For that reason, both the above mentioned aunt’s husband and Jong-un’s half brother died an early violent death. Granted, most people including those currently working in the White House wouldn’t miss Ivanka and Jared if they suddenly vanished. But despite the Donald’s failings being legion, I am confident that he would be quite upset upon finding out about such a horrible eventuality.

A Critical Distinction

So before this all gets too macabre, let’s congratulate the two lovebirds Donald and Jong-un again as well as hope and pray for the couple’s future. With all that said and done, the only thing that still needs to be stated is the following: Do not even think of calling the lovebirds gay. They are not. Really, they are so not gay. They are two straight men in an utterly perverted and disgusting relationship. Granted, Roy Cohn and Peter Thiel, the former and current holders of the most vilest gay title, are on us. But Donald Trump and Kim Jong-un are on you straight people. Are we clear?!