On the one
hand, its just so pedestrian. I mean, I get that I'm jaded. I'm
English, our last prime minister apparently once shagged a dead pig's
head and if all a peer of the realm gets up to in their spare time is
crossdressing and cocaine parties we consider them quiet and
dignified individuals. I'm generally not one to even care about
political sex scandals unless they involve actual crime but this
one...
Now we get
to the other hand: there is the very real possibility that, as a
businessman, Trump was led into a situation designed to create
blackmail material and he fell for it.
Now, all
sorts of... not-really-denials have surfaced. Reddit users claim to
have originated the story, Wikileaks has thrown a tantrum about how
they won't endorse the story, and The Donald himself has made a
series of bizarre Tweets ending with the assurance that Russia (not
anyone in Russia, just “Russia”) has told him the story is a
complete fabrication. On a side note, isn't it so reassuring how
Trump will just believe things when foreign powers tell him?
Now, call me
a pedant but considering that the story concerns him, why does The
Donald need to be told the story is a fabrication? Unless he's
referring not to the story but the existence of the blackmail tape
because that would make sense of the sentence. Just grammatically
speaking without accusation.
So,
honestly, whether this is all true could go one way or the other.
Now, I don't trust redditors, I don't trust Wikileaks and I sure as
damp ammonia-scented fuck don't trust Donald Jodocus Drumpf but I
admit this could still be fake. The thing is, though, that its
believable in some very compelling ways.
There's a
lovely detail to the story that the bed Trump had all those Russian
spy-hookers soil was one that Barack and Michelle Obama had slept in
when they'd come to Russia on a state visit. Its just so petty and
spiteful, just so... Trump, isn't it? And that's what sells it to me,
that's what gives it the ring of truth. the petty spite.
Its like the
sexual version of his Tweets.
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