“A great example of a moving picture trope is when an incredible idiot is put into a challenging job, and then has to deal with a crisis. Take Charlie Chaplin in Modern Problems. It never fails to kill the people.”
–Anton Rodriguez Fowla, Producer, Movie Maggic, inc., 1927
Dear Madam/Sir,
I always called him by his middle name. Johnny was not a great math student. He had such problems with exponents. Actually, any multiplication was difficult for Johnny. He eventually told me he’d just get a servant to do his homework. If he was given a problem like “5 raised to the 3rd power”,” he could not understand that the 3, written higher than the 5, was not somehow “better” than the 5. I remember later trying to show him a graph of exponential growth. It was similar to this:
You know, kind of how Covid-19 cases are growing now. Then Johnny told me, “That’s going to be my money, Mrs. What’s-Your-Name. I’ll have a lot more than you.” I sighed, because he would say such arrogantly mean things all the time. For about the hundredth time I said, “I know, Johnny. Did you know, a moronic, spoiled narcissist says what?”
“What?”
“Exactly.” He still calls about once a month, and I ask him the same thing, and he still says “what” every time. He sometimes is not the shiniest spoon in the drawer. ”
Bernadette Karen Folkstone
Donald J. Trump’s eighth grade math teacher
Dear Sir/Madame:
Self-quarantining was the biggest relief of my life since earning my M.D. I laughed about it that year, because I received my M.D. the same year the TV show “Batman” started. I had a sense of humor back then and I used to walk around Ithaca with a Bat-Utility belt around my waist while wearing my scrubs. Okay, yes, I was a little nerdy. Anyway last week, I was so close to shouting out during one of those press conferences, “does everybody have ears! He told us to conduct clinical trials of ingesting a toxic chemical!” I graduated first in my Cornell Medical School class to listen to the barely literate poster boy for Narcissistic Personality Disorder tell me to investigate if injecting bleach will make people more healthy. I have a better idea. I will investigate if the ingestion of two dry martinis will make me forget that I work for an incompetent imbecile who thinks the periodic table lets him know when he can’t fool around with one of his mistresses
Bottom’s up,
Dr. Anthony Fauci, M.D.
Dear Madam/Sir
Bill Barr likes to look out for people, in particular Trump. I asked him the other day, “You know, don’t you, that Michael Flynn is a confessed criminal, right?” “Yep,” he said. Then I asked, “If you interfere with career prosecutors you’re blatantly damaging our entire branch of government, right?” Again he said, “yep.” Finally, I asked, “if you and I both know this, why doesn’t the President understand this?” Barr said impatiently, “Because we’re not as confused as the President!” That was when I left the WH and started our Topless Republicans website with Sean Spicer and Sarah Huckabee. My Dad wouldn’t approve, but nobody listens to Spinal Tap anymore anyway.
Wendy St. Hubbins
Former Undersecretary of Justice
Dear Madame/Sir:
It seems like we’ve been celebrating Festivus since 2017. Every day we get a list of Trump’s grievances. He performs feats of strength, by engaging in corruption, nepotism, incompetence, and casual bigotry at superhuman levels. He even got into the spirit and predicted a Festivus Miracle when he said the virus would just disappear. The truth is, in fact, if Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David were to write a horror show, it would look a lot like the Trump Administration.
Regards,
Jerry Stiller
Bittersweet Abattoir 