Nyuck, Nyuck, Nyuck, So To Speak

The balconies of Heaven are crowded to overflowing as the angels have all gathered to watch the brilliance of Our Serene Leadership on display. You know how it goes — whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad. And the angels pay good money to stare at it, fascinated. That’s how I account for all of this.

Lets start with the trillion dollar coin thing. I don’t know why nobody has ever thought of this before. Man — elegant solutions sometimes come to you clean out of nowhere. But we need to make sure that the new Treasury Secretary’s signature — I refer of course to Jacob Lewwwwpy, whose previous job was drizzling icing on Hostess Cupcakes — is on that coin somewhere.

We need just such a final deft touch to make sure the gods are not just messing with us, teasing us with the false dawn of all-wood-and-a-yard-wide lunatic rulers. How’s that for a metaphor? What I mean to say is that true bona fide beltway bedlam would actually be a relief. We could stop trying to make sense of it. And when the president gave a presser, he could just say “nyuck, nyuck, nyuck, so to speak,” instead of stuff that just amounts to the same thing later. Give it to us straight.

I was talking with some friends at breakfast, and one of them is the proud owner of a trillion dollar note already. It is not quite as exciting as it sounds, since the note was from Zimbabwe. Such a thing couldn’t have nearly the monetary soundness that ours would have. The differences strike the deep thinker right away — for example, ours would be made out of metal. There’s that.

Important footnote: The original is Quem deus vult perdere, dementat prius. Another rendering is whom the gods would destroy, they make demented enough to drive a Prius, but I am going with the standard translation. I have enough troubles already.

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