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It’s the same job posting for every position that has ever existed in the complex organization known as Trump, Inc:
Wanted. Yes men. No matter what the President does, no matter what he says, to be employed here you do it, you endorse it, you defend it. If the action has no logic, if it is strictly self-serving, if it is the product of sheer whim, or is wrong or wildly counterproductive, you carry it out with enthusiasm while insisting that it is so pristine as to have been divinely conceived.
Position Qualifications:
- Males preferred, although some exceptions will be made for attractive, young, very willing blond females.
- Physical exam required. Neurological testing must indicate absence of any cognitive complexity, and brain scan must show zero evidence of the formation of principles. Most importantly, musculoskeletal exam must not show any evidence of the presence of a backbone.
- Education: Less is better, although a degree from Wharton is acceptable.
- Experience and expertise: None required, other than having appeared on Fox News and having ass kissing down to an art.
- Financial considerations: Officially the pay is not much, but there’s oodles to be made on the side. In return, campaign donations and personal presents are accepted, the larger the better. Concerning donations, desirable candidates must be able to memorize and repeat the phrase: Quid pro quo, you gotta be kidding.
- Notice re diversity: No Negroes need apply. No Jews either, unless really large amounts of cash are involved. This great nation was founded by white male Christians who never really believed that all people were created equal.
Think of all the great men produced by this brilliant policy in this Trump administration alone:
To start with, there’s JD. We have some quiet evidence of backbone in him, but the elixir called ambition assures us that the backbone issue will remain totally underground.
Marco, little Marco. No concern for backbone here. Marco’s got so little backbone, even less than Lindsey Graham if that’s possible, that it’s hard to know how he stays erect.
RFK Jr. If there ever was a brain there (questionable at best!), that little worm took care of all relevant synapses. Can’t call him the dumbest man in Washington, though, as long as Tommy Tuberville, the product of one-football-hit-in the-head-too-many, remains in town.
And of course, there’s Pete. Pistol Pete Hegseth is the perfect Trump appointee. He’s got Fox credentials, and his Johnny Walker credentials can only be matched by Kash Patel. Just about every respected military leader of color, every woman of competence, every one who dares to still call it the Dept of Defense, is gone. No matter that Pete’s time in the military was both brief and completely undistinguished, this man leads the inspiring strategy team that has cost us billions while yielding us nothing—actually less than nothing given the disaster of the Strait of Hormuz and the Trump pledge to pay off the Iranians for empty promises.
Oh, by the way, and how about the guy who got the no-bid reflecting pool contract. He’s our unsung hero. All it took to get that contract was a considerable amount of cash quietly passed along by a dedicated zealot. Other than that, no experience, no competence, no skill required.
Yes, pool guy’s our man. He is the true defender of the red, white… and green.
