"The last P, well, that's not that simple
It's sorta like another way to call a cat a kitten"
—"O.P.P." by Naughty By Nature
God bless hip-hop, which leadeth me from the unsuitable metaphor.
Hey, at least it's old school hip-hop, which is in line with our ancient president, who believes that all good things happened between the writing of the Constitution and the closing of Studio 54, both of which he thinks happened after 1965.
The Studio 54 reference makes a lot of sense if you can imagine the Constitution being written by a bunch of leggy Albanian models whose noses were packed tightly with cocaine. If you think of them as The Founders, it's easy to imagine why the Constitution doesn't say much about raping slave women.
It also explains that whole "Second Amendment" thing. If you do enough blow, you want everybody to have everything, including guns. Plus, that nice Ricky, the guy who sold you the cocaine, he's got a gun, so how bad could it be?
Donald Trump, who passed through the purifying fire of coked-up models and disco nights, recently applied his considerable personal bravery to banning some people from his Twitter account.
C'mon, the guy is the leader of the country that used to be the leader of the free world, and he can't take a little roughhouse on Twitter?
Harry Truman, currently a hero to "real" American men, would not have backed down from a Twitter insult fest.
Of course, Harry'd been in a war. It was called World War I, and, as Trump knows, it happened 300 years ago. Harry was "in combat," meaning you get shot at, and there is some chance of dying. If you want to know what "in combat" means, ask a homeless guy. Likely, he's been there, perhaps in Iraq.
A court had to tell Trump that, no, he can't block people who say mean things about him.
"Give 'em hell, Harry!" they used to yell at Truman.
"Run like hell, Donnie!" Trump yells at himself.
Run from Vietnam. Run from failure into bankruptcy. Run from revealing your tax returns. Run from, of all people, a bunch of slightly liquored-up reporters and a female comedian at the White House Correspondents' Dinner. Keep runnin'. Keep lyin'. Sucker punch John McCain, who could have beaten you to death with his hands when you were both young.
In America, we all own guns, we endlessly revere our "hero" cops and our "hero" firefighters, and our brave troops, and yet we elected the biggest coward ever to hold the office of the president.
This snowflake of a president starts to melt on even moderately cloudy days. Abe Lincoln, big as hell and a country boy wrestler, would have just laughed at Donald Trump and possibly called him a "city boy water lily."
Not that Lincoln would have physically hurt Trump; Trump would have run far away from the country boy with the big nose and the long apelike arms.
Soldiers. We used to like soldiers. Tough, quiet country boys. We used to like tough, quiet country boys.
You know how you spell "Trump"? You take most of the "man" out of "Truman."
To find out more about Marc Munroe Dion and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit www.creators.com. Dion's latest book, "The Land of Trumpin," is a collection of his columns from before, during and after the last presidential election, which may turn out to be the last presidential election. It is available in paperback from Amazon.com, and is also available for Nook, iBooks, Kindle and GooglePlay.