Who cares, Donald? You do realize some of us see your shtick for what it is? Your shtick is not that amusing, and it’s become tiresome. You can fool some Americans some of the time, but you can’t fool all Americans all of the time. Your spurious diatribes exhaust me and your backtracking is even worse. I’ve never known a major politician to backtrack as much as you, or at the very least, who attempts to reshape the dialogue after he has stepped squarely in it as a means of psychologically distorting public perceptions as a damage control measure.
Luckily for you, the public is not blazingly perceptive.
You should be thankful most people lack the fundamental analytical nature to reconstruct the nuance that you engage in continually in order to buy yourself another day.
You use female verbal/distortion tactics, because ultimately, you’re a bit of a bitch. Granted, a billionaire bitch, but a bitch, nevertheless. I’m sorry to break it to you. You have disowned many of your expressive opinions once they appear to falter and test the boundaries of public acceptance. You spin your words and your utterances backwards and inject doses of double-speak and painful hairsplitting coated with several layers of lacquered external blame in order to dilute your original, true message by retroactively coating it with divergent doubts and hesitations.
You are The Great Recanter. That is your spot in history, Donald.
You are The Great Recanter.
This is the fact of the matter: you had the chance to clearly rebut the reporter’s “idea” of a national American database for Muslims. You had a chance, you had the podium; there is nothing you love more than the podium and you’ve proven that you are quite adept up there in the spotlight. You’re no fool. You say exactly that which you want to say.
Your exact words.
In response to a reporter from Yahoo News positing the possibility that American Muslims might need to be tracked via a national database, you said, “We’re going to have to — we’re going to have to look at a lot of things very closely. We’re going to have to look at the mosques. We’re going to have to look very, very carefully.”
And when this outrageous idea was once again floated by reporters in Iowa during one of your town hall whore-a-thons, you didn’t stop or deny. You doubled down, “I would certainly implement that. Absolutely. There should be a lot of systems, beyond databases. We should have a lot of systems.” Such as a mandatory database where Muslims would be required to register? “They have to be — they have to be.”
And the predictable shit storm washed ashore Trump Isles. Mandatory registration and tracking of a religious group in the United States? So now the backwards spin began. You, The Master Recanter, back in the groove!
See Donald, the thing is, your shtick.
You’re The Master Recanter, but really, this is just a tool, a device you implement, which all part of your innate psychopathic nature: you’re The Master Psychological Manipulator. What sounds like impulsive, stupid bullshit as it floods out those lips of yours, is really a very orchestrated and premeditated stream of swollen, attention-seeking quips intended to implant themselves in the susceptible minds of the American public.
As soon as saner minds question the validity and sanity of your bullshit, you spring into that backwards spin, that bitch tool you defer to which involves, through the use of externalized blame and atomic deconstruction, turning your words into brittle ancestors that presage the madness of your appeal.
I’m onto you, Donald!