Donald Trump is in trouble, and he needs a distraction. First stop, a projection. Change the subject. Look over there. He was supposed to make it big time with Bob Woodward, through his confessions about coronavirus.
Woodward is the Washington Post, All The President’s Men, JFK, the D.C. establishment, Ben Bradlee, Deep Throat, Katharine Graham, the intellectuals, Georgetown. An interview with Woodward was a big ego trip.
If they could see me now... Look at me, Be Best, I’m going to be in the D.C. club.
So Trump confessed to Robert Woodward that he knew coronavirus was an air-born deadly virus way back in January. Lied, saying it was a hoax. Didn’t even suggest wearing a mask that could have saved thousands and thousands of lives.
Trump wanted to protect the economy for his friends and didn’t want to see it go down the toilet. (He probably used a worse analogy, but this is THE SPOOF.)
Unlike Kim Jong Un or Vladimir Putin, Robert Woodward is not in the business of keeping secrets. He isn't your Great Aunt Polly. He is a writer. Woodward wrote what Trump confessed.
So Trump needs a distraction and the first stop is a projection.
Trump accused Joe Biden of using performance-enhancing drugs. This probably means Donald Trump is using some kind of performance-enhancing drugs. If so, he should ask for his money back. There’s no performance or enhancement there. Trump looks half asleep, swinging from one side of the podium to the other, squinting to read the teleprompter, slurring his words.
It is what it is.
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