Political Post–the movie you will never see

This was just a passing thought, so bear with me.

There will never be a serious movie about Donald Trump the hero.

Now, given how much we hate him, you all might be saying, “Duh!” but bear with me.

One of the notable things about Shakespeare’s Macbeth is that the minute Macbeth dedicates himself to evil and stops fighting with his conscience, he ceases to be the main character in the play.  We’re more concerned with Malcolm and MacDuff and how they’re going to turn the motherfucker into bone paste than we are with Macbeth anymore. He ordered the slaughter of innocent people. We are fucking DONE with him.

Hitler is never the hero.

Rasputin is never the hero.

Stalin is never the hero.

The minute we get to irredeemable acts, giant ones, on a grand scale, all of the stuff they teach us about the villain being the “hero in his own story” goes away.

There is no redemption. All we care about is this guy’s annihilation so there’s balance in the universe.

Donald Trump has no redeeming characteristics. There’s no, “But he’s a great father!” or “He’s kind to animals!” He’s the creepy kid who used to abuse the neighbor’s doll, and because his daddy had money, he got to inflict that bullshit on the entire planet.  What he has done to people seeking asylum, to soldiers in his own army, to women, to teenage girls, to the planet–all of it is irredeemable.

Any movie made with Donald Trump in it will either A. Be commissioned by him to make him the hero and will suck, or B. Be about how he’s brought down.

So shit’s getting real.

There’s a possibility the November election we’ve been hoping for will find us double-fucked because the supreme court is going to be a sham by then. If Wotsit-Hitler goes titsup tonight with his face in a bowl full of coke, it’s still going to be a giant pita putting the country back together.

But he’s the one who wanted to make history.

Just remember the part he’ll play in it, when it comes to pass.

He’ll never be the hero.

He’ll be held as our rarer monsters are, in a cage, hanging from a pole, on a sign underwrit, “Here may thou see the tyrant.”  (Macbeth, mangled, Act 5, S2, right before that cowardly piece of shit gets his head chopped off and put on a pike. Bless Shakespeare for giving us something to shoot for.)