Apparently, he’d endorse a system that cherry-picks scripture like it’s an à la carte menu for moral convenience. Slavery? Sure, the Bible mentions it, regulates it, even condones it—so why not resurrect the argument every time we want to ignore human rights or defend a Confederate statue? After all, if it’s in the Good Book, it must be good policy, right?
Child, let’s not forget our collective awe that Africans are fast runners—check with the NBA. Centuries of forced migration, genetic trauma, and systemic poverty boiled down to sports commentary. Welcome to America, where racism is repackaged as a compliment.
Being a capitalist nation under God, surely President fat daddy should be able to profit off his office. Jesus flipped tables in the temple when he was damn mad at them. Pharisees, fat Daddy Trump just rebranded the temple and sold naming rights. “Blessed are the brand builders,” or something like that. What’s a little foreign policy when Mar-a-Lago memberships are on the line?
As for Manifest Destiny 2.0—well, we all know the American Indians, (the real ones) just got in the way of progress, and as for the Mexicans? Send them back before they reclaim California, Nevada, and Arizona. We love taco trucks but hate citizenship. We hire the workers, deport the humans, and keep the avocados.
And those Mormons! Who gave them the idea that baptizing dead Holocaust victims into celestial pyramid schemes was a good look? Somewhere between Provo and Salt Lake, someone forgot the part about consent.
Meanwhile, DEI initiatives have made the radical proposition that all people deserve dignity in life—and now, even in death. But that’s where we must draw the line! Integration is for the living. Once you’re dead, you go back to your assigned plot: white Evangelical Protestants in the front, Black folk near the fence, Asians somewhere tidy but not too visible. Heaven is inclusive, but cemeteries have follow HOA rules.
Yes, the grand American compromise: diversity by day, segregation by dusk. God bless the land of liberty—as long as you stay in your lane, live like your ancestors told you to, and die quietly. Oops I forgot we all going to die anyhow so y’all don’t need all that Medicare. Child, fat daddy needs mo’ money and so do his friends! In closing, for benediction there was a guy named Jesse, Jesse Jackson, and back in ’65, Jesse grabbed the rainbow out of the sky and made a flag out of it and called it the rainbow coalition. Jesse included everyone, but some folks didn’t like that Hitler designed the pink triangle, so now if you want to join the new Gay Rainbow flag, you have to be fat or want to cut your dick or your titties off or you like having sex with anything but animals. We’re here to celebrate Pride. Forget the questions and the thoughts.
