MAGA and the “bloodbath” gaslight.

‘You didn’t hear what you heard, believe me.’

No one says “bloodbath” accidentally, least of which Donald Trump. And most certainly not in front of a feverish crowd of fanatics frenzied like aquarium fish at feeding time for whatever hateful chum morsels he’ll toss their way.

Nuance ain’t exactly what “day one dictator” is known for and MAGA sure as shit ain’t known for their appreciation for it or comprehension of it. “New what?” asks Mark-Wayne MAGA.

Donald Trump is about as subtle as Amber Heard’s shit on Johnny Depp’s bed. He’s about as nuanced as Roger Stone in a thong bikini bottom. The guy is so one-dimensional he makes white bread look intricate.

The whole Trump brand is “excess.” Even the golf club urinal cakes are “gilded” in golden spray paint. And speaking of paint, we’re talking about a septuagenarian so obsessed with maintaining the “facade” of “youth” that he’s hitting the spray tan so hard he’s starting to look like an Oompah Loompa after a two month long vacation in Bora Bora.

If you count the number of ways his remaining 5 head hairs have to be manipulated to form that Flock of Seagulls meets Cotton Candy coif of his, then I guess on a technicality we could think of him as “layered.” But that’s akin to describing the moldy rigatoni bolognese in the back of your work fridge as “layered” because you can see the green mold poking out from underneath the white mold.

But in reality, you’d probably just call it fucking gross, because like him, it is, but I digress.

The point is that he is a permanently petulant toddler stuck inside of a never ending tantrum over that second piece of chocolate cake HE WANTS RIGHT NOW!!!

He says out loud the things the rest of the world would never, and it’s it not the fortitude of his spirit which is to credit for that, it’s his narcissistic sociopathy that’s to blame.

He says whatever evil fucking thought pops into his ugly empty head and when he’s surrounded by the cult who neeeeeeds it, they need it like the rest of us need air to breathe, he really lets the malevolence fly.

And they love him for it. They LIVE for that shit, and he knows they came for the show. And what could be more intoxicating than a group orgy of unabashed bigotry and orange man idolatry served up hot alongside a hefty serving of rabid evangelism and Qcrazy conspiracy theories.

They didn’t come for the “deep thoughts” and “meditative musings.” They came to hear shit like “immigrants are animals” who are “poisoning the blood of our country” and “If I lose the election, there’s going to be a bloodbath.”

They came for the dopamine hit nothing on earth can give them in quite the same way as one of his hate rallies can.

Nowhere else can they so proudly fly their prejudice flags for all the world to see. (Ok, maybe a Klan rally, but that’s accompanied by a cumbersome hood). And so long as he gives him that, they’ll worship him forever.

These are people who tattoo his face on their tits and walk around dressed as a fucking wall, ok. They’re about as nuanced as a sledgehammer.

There’s a reason their chants are “LOCK HER UP!!!” and “SEND THEM BACK!” and not fucking Nietzsche quotes.