As white supremacists gathered in Charlottesville, Va., to form neo-Nazi, Confederate Voltron, President Fuckboy McToupee decided to weigh in on the terrorist act in Charlottesville from a lawn chair where his bloated, dollop-shaped golf body chilled on his New Jersey vacation.
He thought it necessary to comment on what is being called the largest gathering of white supremacists in American history (I don’t think they count Republican National Conventions). In his statement, he did not mention neo-Nazis. He said nothing about white supremacists. He did not bring up the Ku Klux Klan. He did not even utter the word “white.” Instead, the leader of the free world—the man elected to fight terrorism of all kinds—said:
We condemn in the strongest possible terms this egregious display of hatred, bigotry and violence, on many sides. Many sides. It’s been going on for a long time in our country. Not Donald Trump. Not Barack Obama. It’s been going on for a long, long time.
You should pause and reflect on this statement for a minute. This is the same guy who screamed at Barack Obama for eight years, begging him to say the words “radical Islamic terrorism.” This is the man who promised us that keeping out the Muslims and immigrants would eliminate the threat of terrorism. This is the man who 62 million people thought would unite the country after Obama somehow reinvented racism.
As with all presidents, people have dissected those people’s president’s words in every way possible. David Duke took them as anti-white and tweeted this:
Some people are wondering what Trump specifically meant by condemning hate and bigotry “on many sides.” Allow us to explain:
He means the side that hates people of color, and the people of color who are recipients of hate.
The side that pierces innocent black bodies with bullets, and the side that has the audacity to die from being shot.
He’s talking about the 1 percenters whining about a 2 percent tax hike, and people who work a full-time job and still can’t afford to pay rent.
He means the ones who complain about affirmative action because they spent thousands on tutoring and practice tests, and the side that knows that, regardless of income, schools with black students are more likely to be underfunded.
When Donald Trump talks about the hate on both sides, he means white America—which holds every economic, social and political advantage in this country and has been metaphorically and literally slitting the throats of blacks, Hispanics and non-Christians for the entire existence of America.
And he’s talking about the people who’ve been getting their throats slit. Because they hate, too. They hate getting their windpipes slashed open. They are bigoted against the neck slicers. Have you heard how loud they scream at the Black Lives Matter rallies just because their sons and daughters are dying? How dare those ungrateful bastards talk shit about white people? I know they have no power and they have done absolutely nothing to inflict harm on white people, but who do they think has to mop up all that throat blood from the nice, white marble floors?
I cannot even pray for America. I cannot even wish her well. We live in a democracy, and this is apparently what America wants. If this country is dying, it will perish from a self-inflicted wound, and I won’t even feel bad. I know I’m supposed to be an American, too, but as I stand over America watching her choke on the regurgitated vomit of 400 years of white supremacy, I don’t even feel sorry for her.
The fact that white supremacists took a road trip to Virginia means nothing to me or Donald Trump. America hasn’t changed in any significant way since last Saturday, when the people waving Confederate flags were sitting at the table next to you in Applebee’s or standing in line behind you at Target.
That’s what Donald Trump meant. He meant he doesn’t give a fuck because this has always been America. You shouldn’t be concerned just because you see it live on CNN. It is as American as
racism apple pie. Donald Trump’s Nazi Hunger Games speech was the same subtle message he has whispered since he waddled his lace-front-covered pumpkin head into the Oval Office: Choose a side.
I know which side I’m on.