So the good news is that he's been President [sic] for 24 hours, and hasn't killed us all, so that's hopeful. Anyway, following up on yesterday, here are a couple of other reactions from philosophers to that comically bad and delusional inauguration speech. ("Carnage"? What is this crazy man talking about?)
Ken Taylor (Stanford) posted the following very funny comment on Facebook, and kindly gave permission to repost here:
What Trump really meant to say when he said that for the first time the American People have taken power is something more like, "With the aid of the electoral college, Russian tampering, and FBI malfeasance, the minority of American people who up until now have deluded themselves that I'm not really the crazy narcissistic fuck that I appear to most Americans to be have for the first time taken power." Now that's unfortunately true.
An untenured philosopher wrote: "‘Thus spake Herr Trump’ indeed. But I thought Donnie Darko’s speech needed a little more oompah loompah, so I’ve set its sentiments to the tune of ‘Der morgige Tag ist mein’, inspired by this Spitting Image episode (very striking similarities to our present predicament) (the episode is itself a parody of this scene from Cabaret (1972)):
The fish disappear from the sea.
I’ll move up a floor in my golden tower.
What difference is that to me?
I lie to the people; the press counts my lies.
That makes really lousy TV.
My shit hits the brain stem; they moralize.
They oughta take lessons from me.
I snake-charmed a nation with 300 words.
How stupid do they have to be?
I learned from the best that they love the worst:
Roy Cohn taught me sophistry.
I’ll come hard for Putin. He really loves me.
Not that crooked Hillary.
I like a strong man with big, dirty hands.
He really reminds me of me.
And speakin’ of which---since that lying bitch
Lost so bigly to me:
I’ll overthrow Roe and the EPA.
Your bodies belong to me.
The blacks and the browns who thought they would rise
Will pay for his presidency.
Go tell it to Jesus: Hope died. I won.
This country belongs to me.
My goons on the courts, on their phones, by my side,
I’ll rule in perpetuity.
What is truth? What are lies? Let the fag profs decide.
Tomorrow belongs to me.
Tomorrow belongs, tomorrow belongs,
Tomorrow belongs to me.
(And you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, folks; buhleeve me.)