https://dcenquirer.com/watch-trump-asserts-dominance-over-deep-state-vows-to-remain-uncontrolled/
The man is a mockery of the real estate mogul who Trickster elevated to the Presidency, and whom a coup deposed, and whom Brueghel painted as Icarus if you trust the Guggenheim scholar who took acid through his eyeballs studying the Hopi opining on Dutch art and the Trump Presidency in Shanghai to selected investors of Evergrande, Chinese WEF patrons telemarketed by Uighurs. The salient point the professor pointed out is the Donald is a nullity, a blank space, a formal not really human image structure in time and space and now after being where the buck stops no longer the man who once was a contender to be all he could be. He knew better but his children did not and therefore surrounded by contemptuous courtiers breaking bad and feeling righteous in doing so, (for in toppling Trump they ensured total tyranny of Righteousness, the right thing done now, without hesitation or reflection)
But the Donald desiring to be who he is not plays clown to a Prince and poses as a candidate to the injected and the Damned
PRINCE HENRY
Why, thou owest God a death.
Exit PRINCE HENRY
FALSTAFF
‘Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before
his day. What need I be so forward with him that
calls not on me? Well, ’tis no matter; honour pricks
me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I
come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or
an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no.
Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is
honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what
is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it?
he that died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no.
Doth he hear it? no. ‘Tis insensible, then. Yea,
to the dead. But will it not live with the living?
no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore
I’ll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon: and so
ends my catechism.
Not the best Surrealist on the stack but maybe the last https://ko-fi.com/thejournaloflingeringsanity
Once there was cinema. Even as late as Godard. :)
One of the most poignant scenes ever put on film. Brando is amazing, and Bernstein's music tells us what's going on just in case we miss it in the words....