Any serious visitor to the latest USA President finds himself in a real dilemma if not in a pragmatic paradox: Knowing that you are sitting at the table with a clown, though having to act as if you’re talking to the director of the circus.
Observe, if you can, the pictures of Pokerface Shinzo Abe during that open discussion of the Korean missile test at the dinner table in one of Trump’s vulgar restaurants…
[In parentheses: I wrote ‘the latest USA President…’; you’ve got to be fast, because The Trump may be out of office before you even bought tickets to his show.]
At the same time The Donald himself is in a quandary. He is but a puppet on a string. Worse: A puppet on multiple strings, pulled by different marionette players. In the White House, at least according to insiders, different parties are trying to tow this doll in different directions.
Because Trump himself is ultra stupid –so at least it seems – unavoidably he has become the slave of his advisers. Slave to more masters – the Bannons and the Millers and the Priebussen and (until recently) the infamous Flynns.
Such a jam does make of one a slave torn. In case you are also a thoroughbred narcissist, it’s is bad eating cherries with one’s other self.
Moreover, Trump has all but the right figure to be a true marionette. Kleist once sang the praise of the finger-puppet as being man’s ideal state: Slim, lightly floating, a head full of beautiful and higher ideas, feet never really touching this planet.
Even suspended from so many strings Walrus Trump constantly bangs into the ground.
We are waiting for his final fall.