Dear Don,
It’s Christmas and Chanukkah. You’re probably surrounded by minions of ring-kissing friends and relatives, enjoying an out-of-touch-with-reality celebration of all things Trump, while too much of the world is in misery and chaos; chaos, in no small measure, as a direct result of the fear and uncertainty of your pending rise to the most powerful station on Earth. I’m not writing with any expectation that you’ll read or care about anything I may say, but out of a genuine concern that soon, my right to speak and write openly may be rescinded.
The cadre of misfits you have amassed from within and without of the political arena may be basking in the afterglow of your victory, but in less than a month’s time, you and they will begin the daunting task of running the largest and most complicated organization in the history of mankind. I’m guessing that you imagine that you can use the same business tactics you’ve employed for most of your career; bullying, badgering, cheating and suing your way toward whatever end your limited moral compass may lead. Good luck with that. I’d like to remind you that there is a nearly infinite laundry list of real world problems, (some of which you paid uninformed lip service to during your campaign), that more than likely will not be resolved by bluster or the sheer force of your boundless ego. For example:
• Climate change is real and it is absolutely, scientifically, without a shred of doubt exacerbated by man’s blatant disregard for the damage we are causing. Whether you believe this or not, whether you chose to address this potentially species-ending dilemma, you, your children and your grandchildren will not receive a pass from the misery that awaits.
• Nuclear weapons have one and only one purpose, the annihilation of mankind, (I hadn’t intended for this letter to be so thematic). I don’t want to even think about your dick, teensy or otherwise, but whatever bragging rights its mass may afford in a schoolyard showdown, the size of your bomb merely insures that Earth will be uninhabitable for 1,000 years, (maybe it’s 100,000…in any case, long after you’re even more disgustingly shriveled than you are now).
• The fractious nature of how we relate to one another’s differences is how the world ends, (there I go again). Your overt belittling of anyone you feel is below your social status, (from your point of view, that could be everyone), other ethnicities, (I guess that would mean other than orange-tinged-baboonish-extremely white fat guys), women and anyone who disagrees with any cockamamie thing you say or Tweet, is fodder for the hatred and suspicion that stokes the anger that has been festering between tribes for thousands of years. The potentially fatal difference at this moment in history, is that easily attainable lethal technology has heightened the kaboom factor exponentially. Stop poking the rabid bear, you asshole!
I won’t be writing to you again…it’s rumored that you can’t read, anyway. But, I want you to know that I will try to remain hopeful that, if you can find the slightest hint of decency, (heretofore hidden, unexpressed, or non-existent), you will fall short of destroying everything that is good and just.
Oh…and please leave the poor Rockettes alone!
Joel