I never used to read the newspapers.
I liked to start my day with some meditation, a bit of stretching, maybe take a book of Sufi poetry from the shelf and consider the refrains of Rumi over some oolong tea.
These days I wake up in a sweat and run to the laptop to make sure impeachment proceedings haven’t begun against Trump.
When Trump first looked like he might win the election I didn’t know how I would bear looking at his smug grin for the next four years. I worried about catastrophic damage he might do by ignoring climate change or starting world war three.
But then I began work on Scarecrow President and now…I need him! I need his jokes, his speeches, his incoherence, his narcissism, even his hairstyle and insufferable smirks.
Let me be clear: I believe in Scarecrow – his (blank)character, his (yet-to-be-formulated) policies, his (non-existent) public record – but let’s be honest here: if the alternative wasn’t Donald Trump, would anyone really vote for a scarecrow?
So please, Donald (may I call you Don?), if you’re reading this please burn all those letters from Putin, replace your cronies with actual politicians, pay your fucking taxes, and stick around to 2020.