This man is not right in the head

Well, this wasn't what I planned to write about today. But that's how the Trump era works: There is no time to react to each new horror, because by the time you've wrapped your head around the notion that the horror actually happened, and wasn't just one of your sleep paralysis demons playing tricks on you, the man and his goon squad have moved onto five others.

Look, the man is legitimately insane. He is not well. He is losing his last tethers to Planet Reality, and is in imminent danger of floating up into the sky, too engorged on his own puffy ego to resist, and being sucked into the engines of a passing 737.

The man is Not Well. And no matter how much faith you might once have put in the Walter Cronkites of past eras in American media, the lack of any serious journalistic questions vis-a-vis the President of the United States and commander of the most powerful military ever assembled is quite clearly out of his gourd, does anyone have thoughts on what to do about that really brings home how captured, how performative, how executive-driven that enterprise has now become.

This dude is very, very Not Well.

What. The Hell.

For those of you just catching up, that is a real Trump social media post, and it immediately followed a Trump-posted tirade against the Pope.

"Pope Leo is WEAK on Crime, and terrible for Foreign Policy," Trump bellows, apparently because he believes the Pope is running for a midwest mayoralty. "I like his brother Louis much better," "I don't want a Pope who criticizes the President of the United States," "Leo should get his act together as Pope," and so forth.

So then he posts a picture of himself as Jesus, using his divine golden powers to heal a man that looks suspiciously like dead pedophile Jeffrey Epstein, while the MAGA Village People look on, jet fighters fly sorties against eagles, and some sort of winged gorgon-minotaur-monstrosity thing descends out of the sky for reasons we can't even begin to imagine.

The President of the United States posts it. Not some freak cult leader who calls himself head prophet of the Church of Flying Monster Thingies. Not one of those American travelers who visits Jerusalem for the first time and immediately "realizes," like dozens before them, that Oh It Turns Out I Was Jesus This Whole Time.

Donald. Freaking. Trump. Is posting AI-generated pictures of himself as a new Jesus.

While attacking the Pope as "WEAK on Crime."

So, he's clearly out of his gourd, right? There are two choices right now. The first is that Donald Trump is the Antichrist warned of in the New Testament, the Satan-inspired false prophet, "lawless man," ruddy-hued demihuman or generic ball of everything disgusting and evil that Jesus warned his disciples to watch out for. I fully admit this theory can't be disproven, because without access to the supernatural the only real argument against it would be to find some small aspect of Trump's personality that was not unadulterated evil and nobody's been able to find such a shred—ever.

But the vastly more provable argument is "This man is not well," and that one we can be sure of. He shows it every day. He does a new thing so repulsive, so boorish, so criminal, so obviously and intentionally nation-damaging that no past president could possibly survive it every damn day, only to be immunized for each act by a Republican Party that endorses crimes and nation-wrecking if it's the only way to stave off multiculturalism or other imagined tragedies.

So apparently we're going to be governed by a batshit insane warmonger no matter how bubbled his brain gets; we're going to live in this shared national destruction until the very moment when the prophesied-of cheeseburger puts the final plaque on the final artery wall.

My alarm, here, is not that Donald Trump would portray himself as Cheeto Jesus. I imagine the man has thought of himself as such since he was in grade school; we already know Trump considers himself the greatest and possibly only human to ever exist, with everyone else around him there only to provide set decoration. My alarm is that with every passing day, this national pustule proves anew that he's lost that sense of inhibition that tells normal humans when they're about to do something self-destructive and stupid. "You shouldn't post pictures of yourself pretending to be Jesus" is one of those bottom-rung edicts, for American politicians. It's not written in any of the rulebooks because not doing a heresy is considered something that politicians should instinctively know long before they've hired their first campaign aide.

There are some gaffes that are more complicated, such as proper form for saluting when you're also carrying a coffee cup. But "Don't fking pretend to be Jesus in a nation that has churches in every town with more than ten people in it" is not one of them.

Not Trump. Whatever impulse control he once had, it's long gone. And that's why we have troops in American streets, and are blowing up fishing boats in the Gulf of Mexico and Pacific, and are in a new war with Iran—and losing it so badly that the whole world's economy is threatened.

I don't expect Trump's administration sycophants to ever admit Dear Leader is cheese-brained. But it sure would be nice if the dressed-up people on our tv sets wanted to hash out the implications.

Anyway, there's my little rant. The thing I was actually going to write about, back before Donald Trump launched a book-length attack on the Pope before suggesting himself as a new Replacement Jesus, was how Trump's announcement of a supposed "blockade" of the Gulf is itself insane drivel. And how JD Vance has managed to botch everything he's touched for the last week. And how Hungarian strongman Viktor Orban got his ass handed to him in Sunday's elections so definitively that conceding defeat was his only option, if he intends to somehow skirt prison time after all this.

But no. That'll have to wait, because now Donald thinks he's Jesus.

Oh look, his first miracle. The miracle of the DoorDash cheeseburgers.

Donald Trump and a DoorDash delivery driver addressed reporters on a wide range of issues including Iran from the White House on Monday in a truly odd scene that played out as the U.S. began a blockade of Iran’s ports and the Strait of Hormuz.

The impromptu press event played out just after noon as the press pool was ushered to the front door of the White House to watch the president of the United States grin and receive two large bags of McDonalds from a delivery driver who then turned to reporters and praised the GOP tax plan’s end of taxes on tipped wages in 2025.

Trump then addressed reporters and began a full press conference where the president stood next to the woman wearing a red DoorDash shirt and issued his newest threats against Iran and even spoke about his conflict with the Pope.

Yes. That's real. There's pictures and everything. And I'm going to go lie down now, don't mind me.

We were a real country, once. I think. I don't remember it very well, it all tends to blur together after Sarah Palin came on the scene, but I think so.

Oh—I guess why he had The Oval Office written in big golden letters next to the Oval Office door, when no previous administration thought such signage to be necessary.

It was so DoorDash drivers would know where to go, when they brought him his McDonalds. His cold, soggy, already-congealed McDonalds.

UPDATE: Oh come on.

Okay, so he's even more out of his mind than we thought. Great, just great.