I picked up this random copy of the conservative Boston Broadside from the waiting room at my job a couple of weeks back. It's such an oddity even for its time. Just a huge picture of Trump with the words "Mr. President" on the cover.
"Mr. President"
No other other words follow it. As near as I can tell, it refers to no story at all inside the paper, which is chock-full of conservative columnists (along with a "We're Under Attack" type ad).
At first I thought the paper was published in January and the headline was a giant middle finger to the presidential election in November. But no. This issue was printed in September, two months before the election took place.
Seriously. The closest I could find to anything Trump related was a transcript of his remarks on the normalization of relations between Israel and the United Arab Emirates (probably lifted directly from Rev). No open letter to the President. No call for the already awesome leader to be more awesomer. Nothing.
Just those two words.
"Mr. President"
the pundits in these pages are dime a dozen. That front page is the one true relic from a not-distant-enough past that shows what America's right wing fraction has become.
It's a cult with no clear message, no plan, no vision. Only the name of their greatest messiah evoked as a mantra to bring the exact opposite of enlightenment.
"Mr. President"
Say it to yourselves at night and pretend it keeps you warm if you want.
I have real goals that need my attention.
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