Monday, April 14, 2025

Magamoron Potato Brains Love The Fart Of The Deal


The image above contains some REAL quotes from the trump-supporting blogger Minus FJ. It seems he REALLY believes the absurd claims he is making will come to pass. Yet, according to him, I'm a "potato brain".

For the record, while the image of d0n0ld as president is in the style of the Simpsons, the image is not from an actual episode. "This image is not from a real episode of The Simpsons. It's a fan-made meme designed in the style of the show" (source: Reddit).

Though The Simpsons DID accurately predict that d0n0ld would become president. And run up the debt bigly.

Video: May 9, 2011. Lisa Simpson calls Donald Trump Presidency and Increased Debt.

Video: Mar 26, 2023. How The Simpsons Predict The Future.

But, if Europe and South America will negotiate their tariffs down and the market booms, how will that incentivize more US manufacturing? Huh, Minus? It could help US exporters, but it will not move that manufacturing from any foreign country to the United States. And isn't that d0n0ld's stated goal?
Video: Apr 13, 2025. Chinese trade minister Chen Biao stops by SNL's Weekend Update and disputes that Trump has any leverage.

Chinese trade minister Chen Biao isn't a real person, but makes a valid point with the question he asks. Which is, "what side is willing to endure more hardship for the glory of their nation?" Yet trumpers think it's China who is going to cave to King d0n0ld's demands?

I'm skeptical. It seems the SNL writers are also skeptical. As per the Copilot AI, "China has not indicated any willingness to negotiate tariffs with Donald Trump at this time. In fact, President Xi Jinping has ... ramped up China's retaliatory tariffs on US goods, signaling defiance rather than submission".
Video: Apr 7, 2025. Thom Hartmann Breaks Down Trump Tariffs Plan. "It's not going to work".

In the video above, Progressive Talk Radio host Thom Hartmann, who has always supported using tariffs to protect American jobs, explains why King d0n0ld's tariffs are STUPID. Also, why tRump supporters like Minus FJ are potato brains.

Post authored by the Anti Turd-2 Lefty blogger Dervish Sanders. wym361.

15 comments:

  1. China won't blink. They have 80% control over a mineral (gallium I believe) needed by the US Military. That and China sees the weakness behind tRump's bluster and bullying. Soon China will likely eclipse the USA.

    When will we get tired of "winning."

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  2. Replies
    1. You're talking about a d0n0ld tRump potato? I thought you admired him? Why would you say I'm like him? Do you admire me?

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    2. I never said that I admired him. I voted for him. Do you think that I also voted for you?

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    3. Even a lot of Tr loyalists don't admire him - immature bully personality for starters.

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    4. Imagine how disgusting his opposition must be...

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  3. Toilets work too. For flushing turds. As we await the flushing of America's Narcissitic National Turd.

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  4. Do you judge persons on their merits? Many of us do. A vigorous analysis puts Trump as considerably below the
    species requirements for normal human species - somewhere between Lemurs and Orangutans. Given the Cheetos
    coloring. a fair estimate , he should be placed far down the evolutionary list, slightly above Joe Conservative, whose
    rigorous logic has led astray., with that deadly logical fallacy - wishful thinking.

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  5. "The First of May, A new Song in Praise of St. Tammany, the American Saint- "Tune, The hounds are all out &c.

    "Of St. George or St. Bute, let the poet laureat sing,
    Of Pharaoh or Pluto of old,
    While he rimes forth their praise, in false flattering lays,
    I'll sing of St. Tamm'ny the bold, my brave boys.

    Let Hibernia's sons boast, make Patrick their toast,
    And Scots Andrew's fame spread abroad,
    Potatoes and oates and Welch Leeks, for Welch goats,
    Was never St. Tammany's food, my brave boys.

    In freedom's bright cause, Tammany pled with applause,
    And reason'd most justly from nature;
    For this, this was his song, all, all the day long,
    Liberty's the right of each creature, brave boys.

    Whilst under an oak his great parliament sat,
    His throne was the crotch of the tree,
    With Solomon's look, without statutes or book,
    He wisely sent forth his decree, my brave boys.

    His subjects stood round, not the least noise or sound,
    Whilst freedom blaz'd full in each face;
    So plain were the laws, and each pleaded his cause,
    That might Bute, North and Mansfield disgrace, my brave boys.

    No duties nor stamps, their blest liberty cramps,
    A King, tho' no tyrant was he;
    He did oft' times declare, nay sometimes would swear,
    The least of his subjects were free, my brave boys.

    He, as King of the woods, of the rivers and floods,
    Had a right all beasts to control;
    Yet content with a few, to give nature her due,
    So gen'rous was Tammany's soul! my brave boys.

    In the morn he arose, and a hunting he goes,
    Bold Nimrod his second, was he;
    For his breakfast he'd take a large venison stake,
    And dispis'd your flip-flops and tea, my brave boys.

    While all in a row, with squaw, dog and b__,
    Vermilion adorning his face;
    With feathery head he rang' d the woods wide,
    Sure St. George had never such grace, my brave boys:

    His jetty black hair, such as Buckskin saints wear,
    Perfumed with bear's grease well smear'd,
    Which illum'd the saint's face, and ran down apace,
    Like the oil from off Aaron's beard, my brave boys.

    The strong nervous deer, with amazing career,
    In swiftness he'd fairly run down,
    And, like Sampson, wou'd tear wolf, lion or bear;
    Ne'er was such a saint as our own, my brave boys.

    When he'd run down a stag, he behind him wou'd lag,
    For so noble a soul had he!
    H'd stop, tho' he lost it, tradition reports it,
    To give him fresh chance to get free, my brave boys.

    From his quiver he drew forth an arrow so keen,
    And seiz'd fast his imperial bow;
    It flew straight to the heart, like an Israelite dart;
    Could St. Andrew ever do so, my brave boys?

    With a mighty strong aim, and a masculine bow,
    His arrow he drew to the head,
    And as sure as he shot, it was ever his lot,
    His prey it fell instantly dead, my brave boys.

    His table he spread, where the venison bled;
    Be thankful, he used to say;
    He'd laugh and he'd sing, tho' a saint and a king,
    And sumptuously dine on his prey, my brave boys.

    Then over the hills, o'er the mountains and rills,
    He'd caper, such was his delight;
    And ne'er in his days, Indian history says,
    Did lack a good Supper at night, my brave boys.

    On an old stump he sat, without cap or hat,
    When Supper was ready to eat;
    Snap his dog, he stood by, and cast a sheep's eye,
    For venison's the king of all meat, my brave boys.

    Like Isaac of old, and both cast in one mould,
    Tho' a wigwam was Tamm'ny's cottage,
    He lov'd sav'ry meat, such that patriarch eat;
    Of ven'son and squirrel made pottage, my brave boys.

    * * * *

    As old age came on, he grew blind, deaf and dumb,
    Tho' his sport ‘twere hard to keep from it,
    Quite tired of life, bid adieu to his wife,
    And blaz' d like the tail of a comit, my brave boys.

    What country on earth, then did ever give birth,
    To such a magnanimous saint?
    His acts far excel all that history tell,
    And language too feeble to paint, my brave boys.

    Now to finish my song, a full flowing bowl;
    I'll quaff' and sing the long day,
    And with punch and wine paint my cheeks for my saint,
    And hail ev'ry first of Sweet May, my brave boys."


    Kawanio che Keeteru!

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