One of the biggest mysteries in the universe — more vexing than the search for a unified field theory — is how in the hell Donald Trump got into Wharton, one of the most prestigious business schools in the world.
Well, Mary Trump’s upcoming book, Too Much and Never Enough, about her family and the abomination it spawned, may finally hold the answer.
The New York Times got hold of a copy in advance of the book’s July 14 release, and according to the paper, Donald Trump cheated on the SAT test. Because of course he did. He can’t think, spell, use proper grammar, or do simple math.
As a high school student in Queens, Ms. Trump writes, Donald Trump paid someone to take a precollegiate test, the SAT, on his behalf. The high score the proxy earned for him, Ms. Trump adds, helped the young Mr. Trump to later gain admittance as an undergraduate to the University of Pennsylvania’s prestigious Wharton business school.
Mr. Trump has often boasted about attending Wharton, which he has referred to as “the best school in the world” and “super genius stuff.”
Okay, you have to admit, that makes a fuckuvalot more sense than Trump getting in based on his abilities, which are pretty much limited to lying outrageously and swallowing Hot Pockets whole like a deranged pelican.
Oh, but that’s not the end of the embarrassing revelations. (Embarrassing for our country, anyway. Trump’s one superpower is that he has absolutely no shame.)
The book also recounts the night Trump’s brother, Fred Jr., died. The family wasn’t exactly supportive.
Freddy Trump died in 1981 from an alcohol-induced heart attack when he was 42, and Ms. Trump tells the story in her book about how his family sent him to the hospital alone on the night of his death. No one went with him, Ms. Trump writes.
Donald Trump, she added, went to see a movie.
Meanwhile, we weren’t the only ones underwhelmed by Donald Trump’s lack of qualifications for the presidency and, well, for living in polite society. Trump’s own sister apparently dismissed his chances when Trump first started running for office:
Even at the start of Mr. Trump’s campaign, his sister, Maryanne Trump Barry, a retired federal appeals court judge, had deep reservations about his fitness for office, Ms. Trump writes.
“He’s a clown — this will never happen,” she quotes her aunt as saying during one of their regular lunches in 2015, just after Mr. Trump announced that he was running for president.
Maryanne Trump was particularly baffled by support for her brother among evangelical Christians, according to the book.
“The only time Donald went to church was when the cameras were there,” Ms. Trump quotes her aunt as saying. “It’s mind boggling. But that’s all about his base. He has no principles. None!”
Uh, this kind of “endorsement” might have been useful in, say, October 2016. Whatever. It’s just the fate of the world we’re talking about.
Oh, also, the notion that Trump thinks strategically is risible, as you probably guessed. The man is pure id, after all.
Like other critics of the president, Ms. Trump takes issue in the book with the notion that Mr. Trump is a strategic thinker who operates according to specific agendas or organizing principles.
“He doesn’t,” she writes. “Donald’s ego has been and is a fragile and inadequate barrier between him and the real world, which, thanks to his father’s money and power, he never had to negotiate by himself.”
You mean his response to the coronavirus crisis has been nothing but a baggy-pants farce punctuated with extemporaneous bluster and random brain farts?
You don’t say.
This guy is a natural. Sometimes I laugh so hard I cry.” — Bette Midler on Aldous J. Pennyfarthing, via Twitter. Find out what made dear Bette break up. Dear Fcking Lunatic: 101 Obscenely Rude Letters to Donald Trump and its boffo sequels Dear Prsident A**clown: 101 More Rude Letters to Donald Trump and Dear F*cking Moron: 101 More Letters to Donald Trump by Aldous J. Pennyfarthing are now available for a song! Click those links, yo!
In contrast to Donald Trump’s shambolic bearing, appearance, and comportment, Aldous J. Pennyfarthing is a natty hail-fellow-well-met and a gentleman.