Donald Trump: A little boy and his toys

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The “Mother Of All Bombs” was dropped by our president and “his” military and the end result, like much of what he does, was not much.

It’s easy for anyone to be an armchair general and second-guess our military. That’s not what this is about. I am going to be an armchair POTUS and second guess a little boy who sits in the Oval Office playing with his toys just to see what they can do while hoping the world, or at least its bad guys, are scared shitless. America should be scared shitless because it is a little boy named Donny who may well get our sons and daughters slaughtered while he tries to impress upon others his might is right.

MOAB (the GBU-43/B Massive Ordnance Air Blast) accomplished very little, unless you view shattering windows, dislodging doors, and cracking walls in Afghan villages a big thing. By accounts, it killed 36 bad guys from ISIS, a group who has little to no impact in the region as opposed to al-Qaeda. It is exactly double the number of good guys, Syrian soldiers, we also killed in a recent ill-fated attack, so when Donny tells us how proud he is of his military, just remember, the tally, 36 bad guys for 18 good guys. I wonder if these are considered a good kill ratio by our military?

There is no accurate death count, but estimates range between 500,000 and 4 million people killed in the war on terror. At a 2 to 1 ratio, that works out to between 166,000 to 1.3 million good guys killed. But then, we only care about the little more than 2,000 American deaths, the rest don’t matter.

So what has MOAB accomplished? It is too soon to tell, but if recent history tells us anything, it will lead to an increase in recruitment of ISIS members. Isn’t it strange how when we make a big deal of killing some of their people in a grandiose way, their numbers increase? It’s like whenever there is a threat to a public attack on the Second Amendment we see an increase in gun sales. What’s the point?

Okay, maybe it took a little heat off Donny for his little pal Sean putting his foot in his mouth about Hitler. Perhaps it took away coverage from the war on Planned Parenthood. Maybe the press is focusing on MOAB and can’t be bothered with all the White House turmoil.

Meanwhile, an armada of ships is now stationed within striking distance of North Korea and President Trigger Finger is itching to take down Kim Basinger or some other Kim and in the process, China, Russia, North Korea, Iran, Israel, Japan, and a whole lot of other nations are nearing the point of no return and placing us on the brink of the MOAW (Mother of all Wars).

This is happening because Donny has not yet read up to the chapters on World War I and World War II. His knowledge of history is stuck somewhere between the American Revolution and the Civil War. He is, however, quite knowledgeable of real estate values in decimated nations and the cost of constructing new luxury hotels and golf courses where mankind once existed.

But here is the really insane part of all this: while Donny plays with his missiles, bombs, and military, his numbers seem to improve. Even he will eventually figure out if he leads us to victory in the MOAW, he will go down as the greatest president ever. Who cares if he starts the damn thing, he will be the guy who finishes it. Isn’t this what really matters?

Ah, but it is Easter weekend and even Donny boy knows you do not start a war on Easter because this is the celebration of Trump’s resurrection. After nearly three months of constant mishaps and controversy, Trump needs to enjoy a much deserved weekend away at Mar-A-Lago and unwind, play some golf, eat some of that tainted food his resorts serve up, and then fly back to DC on Monday, or Tuesday if he should decide to rest up and tweet away from the comfort of his bed, before getting back to the business at hand.

Of course, by then, he may have flip-flopped and decided to invade Canada, return the Statue of Liberty to France, or fire some guy who just works for him. With a little kid in the White House, you just never know what he will do. We can only hope he remembers to take his Flintstones chewable while eating his Captain Crunch, otherwise, there is no telling what kind of shit he will get us into.

James Moore

Jim is a life long resident of California and retired school teacher with 30 years in public education. Jim earned his BA in History from CSU Chico in 1981 and his MA in Education from Azusa Pacific University in 1994. He is also the author of Teaching The Teacher: Lessons Learned From Teaching. Jim considers himself an equal opportunity pain in the ass to any political party, group, or individual who looks to profit off of hypocrisy. When he is not pointing out the conflicting words and actions of our leaders, the NFL commissioner, or humans in general, he can be found riding his bike for hours on end while pondering his next article. Jim recently moved to Camarillo, CA after being convinced to join the witness protection program.