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The only stable genius I ever knew was Mr. Ed and he was a talking horse.

Not only could Mr. Ed talk. He was also an erudite, kind, caring and very empathetic animal.

Mr. Ed cared about people, animals and his erstwhile owner, Wilbur.

Donald Trump is capable of none of those feelings. He’s a scrofulous human, a psychopath, a sex offender, a racist and a malignant narcissist.

I know what you’re saying. Mere humans should never draw conclusions about the mental health of another human. We leave those things to guys with paper on the walls and names like Jung and Freud.

But c’mon folks. We’re talking about Donald Trump here. He just tweeted, “like, I’m really smart … a genius, and a stable genius at that.”

There is nothing in Trump’s curriculum vitae that backs up any of those claims. He’s responding to claims in a book, Fire and Fury, which avers that most of his White House staffers believe that the president is unhinged from reality.

His secretary of state, Rex Tillerson called him a “fucking moron” and now the book reports that Rupert Murdoch hung up on the president and blustered to the room: “He’s a fucking idiot!” So moron and idiot from two people who call Trump a friend! I will go with an aphorism here … with friends like those guys? Who needs enemies?

I am assuming the exclamatory placed at the end of those epithets, only because rarely do people use fucking without the winded exclamation mark! I am well into the book, written by Michael Wolff, and it’s as entertaining as hell. And I recommend it. I’m listening to it on only because that’s how I read most things these days, and it fills my long drive into work at the ski hill with much mirth and hilarity.

The nice thing about audible is that you can pause and hit playback and go back 30 or 45 seconds. And listen to passages of significant interest again … and again … and again.

The book and its author have planted a notion that Donald Trump is what we all suspected: a child masquerading as the leader of the free world. That Donald Trump is not a bright man. That he has the attention span of a brain dead sloth and that he has begun to show signs of mental decline that we might associate with slippage of our great great aunt Maybelle who recounts every detail of her trip to Paris in 1938 with agonizing clarity. And then says, “oh dear, could you pass the carburetor?”

In fact one of the anecdotes via Wolff states that Trump is now prone to repeating the same story three to four times in the space of a 15 minute executive pause, while slamming two diet cokes and a pint of Haagen Daaz.

This is the particular assertion that has exacerbated Trump’s tweet rants over this past weekend. The affirmation that the emperor has no clothes and further that he lacks the mental capacity to know that he ain’t wearing pants. Or underwear or a shirt.

So, the looney toon man in charge of the western world responds with a tweet that will be studied for decades to come. “No. No, no, no … I’m a genius … and a stable genius to boot!”

Think back ten years. Try to imagine a future where the duly elected (not by coup or armed takeover) president of the USA feels a need, no, an urge, to declare that he is a genius, a stable genius. Kurt Vonnegut has a pretty wild imagination, but not even Kurt, the man who put a general on a missile, could have foreseen a president this damaged, this stupid.

The president of the USA is lying at a 7.3 per day clip. And his other utterances are expletives aimed at Titleist golf balls. “Fucking ball! Spicer! Kick that ball into the fairway for me. I’m making par today! Got it?”

We don’t need a diagnosis of mental instability. We need the GOP to go to Web MD and read something about ‘psychotic breaks’ and then we need them to do a short compare and contrast vis-a-vis the president, Donald Trump.

And then act.

Mr. Ed, my favorite stable genius just gave me a neigh.

No, not a nay, but a neigh, which Ed explains is a Yeah!

Killed another one … good night!

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