Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi is dead!
Watching the Ol’ Pussy Grabber carefully and cautiously pronounce the name and utter the sentence and read from the teleprompter causes me to fear for the man’s very life. The strain and struggle contort his face with effort. He could easily hurt himself. I’m surprised the Secret Service doesn’t wrestle the teleprompter to the ground.
The latest announcement was about the fourth time we were assured of his demise, so please understand that when the pathological chronic liar squatting in the White House said it, I didn’t quite accept it as truth. What was the old Cold War saying, “Trust, but verify?” When dealing with the Ol’ Pussy Grabber it is, “Assume he’s lied until it’s verified.” I guess since ISIS has issued a statement about Baghdadi’s death and his replacement, we can all safely assume this rotted soul has been consigned to the trash heap of history.
As if the Ol’ Pussy Grabber needed to prove my point, he announced the next day – or was it a couple of days? – that we had also killed his replacement implying by juxtaposition that it happened after Baghdadi. It hadn’t. It had happened weeks ago. And, of course, we didn’t know who his replacement would be until he was replaced. We just had a list of names. So, we got two lies for the price of one.
As amusing as the Ol’ Pussy Grabber’s pathetic attempts to fool anyone but the willing fools that believe him are, that’s not what we’re posting about today. We’re posting about a specific piece of garbage that was floating in the general maelstrom of detritus that regularly issues forth from his malodorous gullet.
Amidst the treasure trove of delectable classified and ever so helpful information for bad actors everywhere that he so helpfully divulged was a description of Baghdadi’s attitude about his impending demise.
The Press Conference
The Ol’ Pussy Grabber described the occasion of watching the operation unfold as if he were watching a movie! Said in true 13 year-old fashion and having about as much bearing on reality for him as if he had actually watched it in a movie. He also claimed he watched it in real time, which is yet another statement that is in doubt as are all the photos of him “watching” the operation. Apparently, he only saw a recording and the photos were staged after the fact. Who the fuck knows what’s true and why he’d bother to lie about something so mundane? He didn’t want the world to know he watched in his gold-toilet themed onesie?
In the midst of all the other self-aggrandizing at the literal expense of our national security, he said that Baghdadi ran screaming, crying, and whimpering to his death. And repeatedly describe him as dying like a dog, like a coward.
“Why,” my drunk Uncle Ingus wants to know, “are you picking on this here accomp’ishment that we should be proud of? Why can’t you libels just lie back and enjoy it fer once?” Well, Uncle Ingus, because like everything else the Ol’ Pussy Grabber touches, he turned this to shit. You might describe it as the feculent touch.
The Ol’ Pussy Grabber maintains that by describing Baghdadi’s death in such an unflattering and humiliating way, he discourages potential followers from joining; but, he doesn’t, he encourages them.
“Now, that is just like libel logic,” Uncle Ingus slurs. “No one wantsta follow them no coward! Ha! LoGiC your way out of that one, mister!”
Humiliation Begets Anger
Anyone who has sympathies towards Baghdadi or ISIS will feel the sting of humiliation and embarrassment when hearing the description. It doesn’t matter whether they accept it as true or not. It doesn’t matter whether it was true or not. It only matters that the listener feels humiliated by it.
Humiliation is the most damaging emotion possible. It eats away at the soul. A reaction that the Ol’ Pussy Grabber – would that he have any sense of empathy – would know well given the number of times per day he feels utterly humiliated by the commentary and looks both real and imagined that go on around him. Humiliation has long since taken anything resembling a soul from him. It put the malignant in his diagnosis of unproductive malignant narcissist.
It is a needless self-indulgent cruelty that he needn’t have inflicted, that can not possibly result in anything good, and that can only cause real harm as it enrages Baghdadi’s current and potential followers.
The Ol’ Pussy Grabber has proven once again that if you hand him a loaded gun, he’ll shoot everyone around him in the dick, and then blame it on the Democrats.
The all too predictable and reasonable response to humiliation is anger and outrage. There are people who despise Baghdadi because of the cruelty of the atrocities he personally committed and those that were committed in his name, but still will have a twinge of anger because they relate to him as a fellow Muslim, Arab, Iraqi, or other unknown characteristic that they might share. Instead of standing in unity with all decent people in reflecting on his passing, they now have to choose a side of whose cruelty and insensitivity they’ll stand on. Since we are emotional decision makers – emotions that take place largely outside of our conscious awareness – he is pushing people to oppose us.
Once again, we are left with the sad conclusion that this is what happens when you elect an unproductive malignant narcissist to office: unable to resist scoring the cheapest of shots on his enemies, he indulges himself in schoolyard cruelty at the expense of the rest of us.
If you have realized it before, maybe you’re beginning to realize it now. We’re fucked.