Targeted Memories
Donald Trump was nearly murdered a month ago. Oh: right. That sounds vaguely familiar. The terrible scene is as jarring to ponder as it is to have to bring back to mind. The assault should be easier to picture than a grocery list, but we spaced on getting food, too. While life always moves on, it’s now outpacing the topic sentence.
The most monumental incident of that night characterized our world almost through dawn. A moment that seemed certain to define the race and influence history is out of mind like a tweet about Jersey Shore. Ronnie was wrong whatever it was. The images we thought would haunt us as we tried to fall asleep have faded as our brains have shifted to needing a reminder to keep them in mind. It’s very 2024.
A supernova world features intensity that instantly fades. Ceaseless social media consumption does something to our brains, but the details about what just left my mind. Does anyone know my name?
Commies snuck in a win that we failed to notice. The Chinese spyware video application inflicted more direct damage with incessant videos than sending all personal information to commie creeps. I thought MTV destroyed attention spans, but it turns out watching one video at a time was our generation’s equivalent of the Ring Cycle.
The attempt on his life is not the only allegedly monumental news involving Trump that inspires afterburner fury. Intensity is matched by rapidity. The near-assassination is like his conviction. Can anyone bring to mind the crime he didn’t really commit? Democrats thought they’d get to call their villain a felon, but the lack of current event retention beat their fondness for technical correctness. Wikipedia substitutes for our memories.
Similarly, I remember his second impeachment because of the connected tantrum, but the first’s as foggy as algebra. The fact a scumbag’s enemies made up charges doesn’t aid visualization.
Trump is not helping himself, which is his brand. Claiming some shadowy deep state network sponsored the prototypical lone gunman is the most obvious way to dilute the advantage of getting winged, so of course some loyalists indulge. Baseless lunacy exceeding real trauma allows media outlets to focus on the insane blather of someone who was actually wounded. For someone who hates journalists, he sure provides them ample chances to correct overreactions that careen into deranged claptrap.
It’s not to blame the prey, but the person who gave a good 10-minute acceptance speech over more than an hour encourages discursiveness. Trump was impulsive about skipping around the dial long before he had access to the same wireless pocket rectangles that facilitates runaway trains of thought.
Raging out about whatever comes to mind that moment is way more satisfying than spending precious minutes pondering a solution, at least for now. Trump’s the ultimate Boomer in case anyone blames people cursed to be born in the 21st century as inventing inattentiveness.
Sympathy has limits, such as not voting for someone because of what someone tried to do to him. A raised fist in defiance of blood was his most genuine moment. But he would still be an undignified president who spends like a drunken Democrat. We already know. He held the job, remember? Goldfish brain is an acquired characteristic that only seems contagious. Nobody recalls how it started.
Lousy aim shouldn’t target the outcome. The election remains about an unpleasant phony posing as the most honest person versus the prototypical airhead who would sell out her pinko principles for a handful of votes. Not letting a failure at assassination and everything else dictate the future is a fitting legacy.
Everyone should remain ticked. Someone taking a shot at one of the finalists is an outrage no matter what. Decent humans don’t check whether or not they’d vote for the person who felt breeze from a bullet that pierced his ear. Emblematic federal incompetence enables inept evildoers in an illustrative moment for our time. The trouble is remembering the lesson. Some liberal zealots suffering through the Biden years still believe their faith works because they apparently enjoy having their worthless money stolen.
The upside of discarding thoughts of every moment that happened before this afternoon is the fiend’s irrelevance. The malevolent twerp can’t get comfortable on a mattress of flames on the upper bunk the same eternal cell as John Wilkes Booth even though he’s been banished from consciousness like it’s prom invitation season. Discussing how instantaneously news cycles change distracts from focusing on a story for a sixth minute.
Trump gets the most aid from his enemies. Falling for the trap is like a curse inflicted by Greek gods. Myths are neglected because no streaming service carries their stories. The plot thwarted by fate made Trump a victim, which is the worst possible favor granted to him. There’s nothing worse than letting a paranoid person be correct about conspiracies.
Yet the public is already forgetting his tale of survival as part of the commitment to fuming without knowing why. The thoroughly lousy shooter’s name is the one thing that should be forgotten.
