Can you imagine what the conspiracy theorists will be saying if Donald Trump dies from a disease many of them say doesn’t exist? I have a fair idea. The assorted fruit loops, from David Icke to Piers Corbyn to Jim Corr – I know, I know: Jim Corr – will be out on their soap boxes telling us that if we think he died from COVID-19, we’d need our heads examining. It would be the work of paedophile gangs, the dark state and Icke’s fucking lizards. And if he survives, it will merely prove the whole thing is a fraud. You can’t win, can you?
So, how is Trump today? If it’s anything like when Boris Johnson had the thing, you can probably ignore anything politicians say. Our half-witted foreign secretary, the talentless Dominic Raab, told us Johnson was in great spirits and carrying out all his duties in the ICU. He was only in the ICU for precautionary reasons. What utter tosh that turned out to be. Johnson was at death’s door but death took one long look at him and thought, “Ugh. Get back to wrecking the country.”
I didn’t for one minute believe the medics who announced yesterday that Trump was in fine fettle and there was nothing to worry about, not that I was worried. A man with a colossal ego like Trump doesn’t go into hospital for no reason. He’s there because he is very ill. If he was fine and dandy, he’d be having himself filmed practising his putting in between ventilators. But he’s not. The video that emerged this morning would have been anything but reassuring for those who wish him a full recovery.
Without his fake sun tan and his complex combover hairstyle not properly sprayed into place, he looked a mess. However, for once I actually believed something he said: “Over the next period of a few days I guess that’s the real test. We’ll be seeing what happens over those next couple of days.”
That’s the thing with COVID-19. One minute you have an irritating cough, a little breathlessness and a fever and the next you can’t breathe and you’re on a ventilator. He’s not out of the woods yet, as they say, and the world will be holding its collective breath, praying to God the Donald pulls through. In fact, once I have finished writing this, I’m off to my local church for a bit of socially distanced praying, although it is raining so I might have a late change of heart.
It would be quite wrong to say to Trump, “I told you so,” after he played down the seriousness of the disease and presided over the premature and often unnecessary deaths of over 200,000 people, and rising. And it would be inappropriate to gloat about the time four years ago when Trump cracked ‘hilarious jokes’ when Hillary Clinton became ill during the 2016 presidential campaign. This is no time to wish ill upon such a great man. There, that’s me sorted in case the Donald succumbs to this deadly virus.
If Trump survives – and obviously we all hope that he does, don’t we? – I sincerely hope he loses the coming election by a landslide. In fact, that’s the main, and possibly only, reason anyone would actually want him to survive, to see this giant yellow wank puffin booted out of office and to see America resume its role as a serious world leader.
Whether he lives or dies, there’s no mad conspiracy. He lives because he gets lucky or he loses because he’s unlucky. Simples. And nothing a former TV snooker presenter, the even more stupid Corbyn or the one that no one knows from the Corrs can do to change it.
