"Off He Went with a Trumpety Trump..."

I'll breathe a sigh of relief when Trump leaves the White House tomorrow (presumably throwing a handful of smoke pellets to the floor so he can sneak out before Biden's Inauguration). 

My heart sank when he won the 2016 election. I was staying at Center Parcs on the day they announced it, so my pretty surroundings at least cushioned the blow, though I couldn't look the bald eagle in the eye at the bird of prey demonstration I attended that afternoon. Four years yawned ahead like a tetanus-fuelled bout of lockjaw while my face resembled a cross between Edvard Munch's The Scream and Macauley Culkin after applying aftershave in Home Alone.

It's hard to imagine a person less suited to the job of President; something that only played out during his time in office, to be compounded by the storming of Capitol Hill that his outright lies stoked last week. The only person Donald J Trump cares about is Donald J Trump; that's very J evident. But that's only a fraction of the problem. His response to losing the recent election - refusing to acknowledge defeat while actively trying to overturn a democratic result just because he didn't like it - is, frankly, terrifying; it's gaslighting writ large. And the consequences had he got his way don't bear consideration. I just pray that his second impeachment will result in him losing the chance to stand for a second term, as the combination of his slim grasp of reality and the mob justice of his more far-right supporters could spell danger for future democracy: we don't need another Hitler (Thunderdome).

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