Eric Trump: Patron Saint of the Stupid Rich
While Americans ration groceries, Trump’s dimmest heir lectures the nation on midnight billion-dollar Bitcoin transfers over Merlot.
by Cliff Schecter
I know this will be hard to believe, but there once was a time, back in olden days, when we valued competence.
We wanted the best engineers to build bridges, the best teachers to shape minds, and the best leaders to not purposely eradicate economic growth. Ya know, while live-tweeting it.
But somewhere along the way, clownish, constitutional carnivores came along and began taking brontosaurus-sized bites out of our founding document and unwritten operating agreement that supported it.
We had something called a “Newt Gingrich” imploding the House with hysteria and heresy here, a Mitch McConnell sabotaging the Senate and judiciary with corporate acts of carnality there. And a Sarah Palin. She could see Russia from her house!
America decided mediocrity was more fun than people who knew stuff and wanted to govern. Elect a guy you wanna have a beer with! Hell, Reagan climbed into bed with a chimpanzee. Fred Thompson’s future may’ve been riding golf carts to the studio to do reverse mortgage ads to impoverish the elderly, but did you see him in Die Hard 2!?
How can you not vote for the guy who sang “I Got You Babe?”
Along the way, many a reverse mortgage salesman—some Democrats, to be sure, but an exponentially growing percent of the GOP til nothing else was left—started running for office with no understanding or care their job was to work for the people.
And then…hello Second Gilded Age.
An era where a reality-show President with the wit of a drunken walrus would actually fight in court to starve Americans. Yes, Trump argued in court that food our laws required him to give people—so they don’t die—should be denied. So they do.
And now, we’ve arrived at the logical conclusion of all this—Eric Trump, the barking embodiment of dumb-son nepotism. A laughable lout with inherited intellectual necrosis and the empathy of a Terminator wrapped in designer smugness.
In Eric we have the heir to a political dynasty so corrupt it saddens Tammany Hall, because they’re not here to stand and clap. A guy whose gums allow you to shelter-in-place during EF4 tornadoes. Whose existence makes it so when you say the “the dumb Trump son,” you’re somehow not talking about Don Jr.
This past week, as millions of Americans rationed groceries and struggled to pay medical bills…Eric popped up on Fox Business to serenade us with the wisdom of a newly minted billionaire. One who earned it all with his wit, wisdom, and all legally, of course.
After talking down American banks—how patriotic!—as “slow” and “lethargic” in conducting business, Eric shared this golden nugget:
How is that modern-day finance?…You can send $500 million worth of bitcoin on a Sunday night at, you know, at 11 p.m. while having a glass of wine with your wife for virtually zero fees.
Now everyone be honest, who among us hasn’t found ourself wondering how to do this over a nice Merlot at 11pm on a Sunday?
Yes, the fumbler whose family took a prosperous economy and with the dumbest f*king economic policies this side of Pol Pot, delivered stagflation that’s starting to spin out of control. That guy had solid advice the most tone deaf take since Leona Helmsley (“only the little people pay taxes”) for regular Americans.
For some reason, it made me think of this:
Eric, someone whose daddy—that’d be Don J.—is gifting Argentina’s equally loopy leadership $40 million of our tax dollars to bail them out from policies Trump’s enacting here, wants you to marvel at the wonders of frictionless billion-dollar transfers.
Not food security. Not living wages. Not affordable insulin. Let them inject cake!
It’s what you’ve always cried out for! Not paid family leave, dumb-dumb. Crypto convenience for all!
Because when you’ve never worked a day in your life, money isn’t survival. It’s a parlor trick. Just some fun on a Sunday night for you and your equally-inebriated, wholly-out-of-touch, fellow dumb-son nepo friends. Future subjects of lawsuits over stolen equity.
And of course, nothing would be complete with The Family Trump if there weren’t a con somewhere. So of course behind his personal Trumpian word salad—the Caesar with the Russian dressing—sits a scam dressed up as innovation.
The family’s sprawling, barely-concealed crypto operation, from the Trump Meme Coin—which in the near future probably gets you a Diet Sprite at the nearest vending machine—to their crypto companies. Such as World Liberty Financial.
Together they’ve made the family billions, as anyone wishing to buy influence with a mob willing to sell it to literally anyone—including inanimate objects—can invest.
Also don’t forget to buy those Trump sneakers, watches, guitars, and Bibles! Sure, this all violates the Constitution’s Emoluments Clause, but who cares! It’s not like John Roberts or Mike Johnson are gonna to anything. 😄 😁
It would be funny if it weren’t so perfectly tragic. The dopey-ist son of a fake billionaire (pre-crypto scams) turned fake president, who likes Gatsby parties and golden toilets, go on oligarch-tv to lecture the struggling masses about how easy it is to move half a billion dollars. While sipping Merlot.
This rightfully led Senator Mark Kelly to share a few words…a Democratic Senator who always brings the fight to try and aid the fall of The House Of Trump:
Believe it or not, there was a time when Republicans tried to hide corruption and keep the family’s most notorious inbreds outta sight. But Eric is the chef’s kiss to Trump’s very different modus operandi, an avatar of our times.
Appoint incompetent dilettantes to power. If you’re Trump, you know they won’t challenge you once in office and nobody will stop them from getting there. Who cares when they f*k up, as long as it lands you money/power/fame/sex.
The corporate media sure won’t call you out (both sides!). And, again, what are John Roberts or Mike Johnson gonna do about it, much less the GOP Senate?
In the past, it was different for the living embarrassments of America’s political families, the Billy Carters, the Neil Bushes, the Roger Clintons. They’d send them down to the basement under the pretense of fetching fire wood. Then lock the door immediately, for four to eight years.
But what do you do when your whole family makes Billy Carter look like Gary Kasparov? So, Eric Trump may be the dumbest, but nobody else in the family would’ve been allowed in public if they were members of an earlier presidential clan.
So Eric’s the one they send on air, in front of the cameras and everything, when The Epstein Files are are leaking into a flood, Trump looks like he’s been dead two years and nobody told him, and the American people are losing access to food and doctors.
As former New Jersey Democratic Rep. Tom Malnowki put it:
Eric, we’ve got you, babe. The very face of American descent. Dumb, decadent, and deeply disconnected. Not the exception to the rule. But it! A system that rewards depravity and punishes competence, kindness and veracity.
Look, these people don’t trip into corruption, they wake up every morning and put it on like cologne. Trump Cologne.
GOP corruption, as I posited up top, had deeply devoured the old GOP. The Trumps just took it that last step of the way, and made it all a carnival ride for con artists. The gilded ouroboros of American decline. The stupid devouring the sensible, a Fox hit at a time.
Eric’s the perfect mascot for the era, where ignorance is lucrative and the shameless rewarded for selling the country by the byte. He’s end-stage-democracy mediocrity and venality.
Though, in truth, is this isn’t all inevitable, if we choose not to let it be.
The reason Eric Trump can play crypto prophet while the rest of America can’t afford eggs is because we let this circus keep its tent. We let billionaires define success, corporate-media define normal, and corrupt Republicans define “I dare Chuck Schumer to stop me.”
The antidote isn’t despair—it’s the bright light of exposure and fury needed to fight these MFers every day. Rip off the gold leaf, my friends, and what you find underneath ain’t genius. Just grift, greed, and a generational habit of chewing on lead-paint chips.
What’s the answer? More marches. More election blowouts. More, authentic, charismatic, modern Democrats. More fighting fire with fire (California’s ballot-measure win on redistricting led Indiana to drop their planned one, a big defeat for Trump). No more Hateful-Eight Democrats.
And then Eric Trump can go do reverse mortgage ads. Behind bars.
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P.S. Corporate media won’t print this—they’re too busy pretending Eric Trump knows how crypto or democracy works. But we just did.
Love when Stephen Colbert makes fun of him!
Every day that these morons occupy the gold gilded WH makes me feel more French Revolutionary.