"LET THEM HATE ME, SO LONG AS THEY FEAR ME"-Caligula

Caligula (Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, 12–41 AD) was the third Roman emperor (37–41 AD), known for his rapid descent from a promising, popular leader into a paranoid, tyrannical, and extravagant despot.

It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world, particularly where the 47th President of the United States is concerned. Everyone remembers him having a pop at Meryl Streep, who he called average; Streep is unquestionably one of the great actresses of all time. His attack on Bruce Springsteen was another moment of extreme stupidity. Whether or not one likes Springsteen’s music, general consensus points to him as being something of a rock N Roll legend.

Of course, he’s criticised Barrack Obama (has there ever been a greater downgrade in, basically anything than that between the 44th and 45th POTUS?), he’s criticised countries, voting bodies, swathes of journalists, broadcasting companies and many more too numerous to mention.

Now he’s targeted the Pope. Yes, the Pope. You don’t have to be a Catholic to baulk at this, it’s not about religion for me; I’m sure that there are many arguments for organised religions hiding some darker truths.

This is about diplomacy and a basic grasp of the way in which one behaves in public office.

Mind you, when the commander-in chief of the United States Armed Forces says “I’m not a big fan” you know you must be doing something right

This elected (twice) leader is now entering “my horse is now Secretary Of State territory” his ramblings grow more and more bizarre; his dictatorial behaviour is more and more 1984. When a journalist asks an uncomfortable question of him, he merely admonishes them with a “fake news” or “you’re a terrible journalist” shutting down disinters is a tried and tested way for despots to consolidate power.

Then there are the visuals. Where to begin on these photoshopped pieces of outrageous hubris. It’s almost as if he’s created an art form that is equal parts Team America World Police symbolism and that plastic religious tableau’s you see in the pound shop. His sense of architecture and choice of fonts is also the stuff of lunacy. The man has the visual acuity of a Liberace on drugs.

The fact that the American public have yet to tar and feather him and run him out of Washington DC tied backwards on the back of a donkey is amazing. The men in white coats with huge butterfly nets have yet to been seen entering the Whitehouse nor has a Fletcher Christian emerged to cast him at sea in a metaphorical lifeboat with his entourage.

The” leader of the free world’ is now the eccentric bloke who lives down the road that you see wandering around at midday in his pyjamas talking to himself and chasing pigeons. The only difference being that that bloke doesn’t have access to an arsenal of nuclear weapons; the worst thing he could do would be defecating in your front garden, not blowing up the world.

Common sense dictates that he's got to go, and that can’t happen soon enough, but while there are a large number of Americans who actually believe that he is some sort of saviour genius type. 

The wait continues, who will his next target be, David Attenborough?

DYSTOPIA NOW

In a dystopian future the leader of the free world is a rotund man, devoid of empathy. A man whose features peer out from behind a mask of a radiant hue, a man who festoons his living quarters with the garish blandishments of opulence and entertains his guests with fast food while the citizens scrabble for the meagre offerings available to them. In this future, corrupt warlords visit to pay homage. Critics are silenced, shouted down for their impudence and his followers adorn themselves with his symbolism.

Pronouncements that would put Caligula to shame are issued on a daily basis. A harem of young women are offered to him by those seeking favour and the disdain with which he treats the female populace is not hidden from sight.

Like all good despots there are Jesters aplenty to entertain him, Jesters and Knaves abound in his court.

His kingdom is protected from interlopers by a high wall, guarded by the paramilitary and celebrated by the acolytes.

His devotees see him as almost religious figure; a Jesus without a conscience. He is a snake oil salesman with less integrity, a bile filled tyrant with a motto, a man without a moral compass.

This is not a preface to a science Fiction novel from the mid 1970s, this is not an unused Mad Max synopsis, no, this is America 2025. And it's leader is a cross between Baron Harkonnen and Immortan Joe, who cheats at golf and salivates over his daughter. All that's missing are hybrid cars roaring across the plains and skulls haging from lampsts in Washington.

Like most things that are real, truth is stranger than fiction and the reality of the current President's tenure is the stuff of future shock. Each day brings a new sound bite of dubious content. Each action and pronouncement is more bizarre than the last. The levels of denial and delusion are staggering, yet he prevails, his zealous fanbase lift him in his throne, his MAGA minions prop up his ego, polish his crown of thorns, belittle his opponents and the the term "fake news" as a weapon.

A quote, attributed to Abraham Lincoln (the antithesis of the current incumbent) is aposite:

"You can fool all of the people some of the time, and some of the people all of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time".

Sorry Abe, but in Trump's head it seems you can fool all of the people all of the time.