Frankly I don’t understand how The Onion is still even in business what with all the capable and stiff competition from the media since Trump took office. Case-in-point: Politico gave major space to somebody who sat next to Trump adviser Stephen Miller in the 3rd grade for this blockbuster report:
The MSM was largely incurious about many details of Barack Obama’s life, but dammit we’re going to find out if a Trump adviser ate paste in elementary school!
Basically Miller’s classmate is saying “I should have seen ‘the wall’ coming”:
Each time a new outrage emerges in the saga of Stephen Miller—author of the Muslim ban and chief architect of the child separation policy—I think of the year I spent with him. This was long before Miller, a senior adviser to the president, had earned a reputation as perhaps the cruelest and most ruthless member of the Trump administration.
It was the year he sat next to me in third grade.
At this point I had trouble continuing due to all the coffee I spit all over my laptop screen, but I soldiered on in the face of laughing so hard I might wet myself:
He especially was obsessed with tape and glue. Along the midpoint of our desk, Stephen laid down a piece of white masking tape, explaining that it marked the boundary of our sides and that I was not to cross it. The formality of this struck me as odd. I was a fairly neat kid, at least at school, and I had never spread my things to his side of the desk. Stephen, meanwhile, could not have been much messier: His side of the desk was sticky and peeling, littered with scraps of paper, misshapen erasers and pencil nubs.
If this adhesive division kept Stephen on his side of the desk, I was all for it, as unfriendly as it seemed. But instead, the tape became an attractive nuisance. Stephen picked at it with his fingernails, methodically, in a mixture of absentmindedness and what seemed like channeled hostility.
Good God, the author of this article was sitting next to sticky mini-Hitler and yet did nothing (which of course we know is all that needs to be done in order for evil to prevail).
This passage should be parlayed into a soft-core porn film titled “Fifty Shades of Paste”:
When Stephen wasn’t picking at the tape, he was playing with glue. He liked to pour it into his hands, forming grime-tinted glaciers in the valleys of his palms. Glue thusly in hand, he deployed his deepest powers of concentration to watch these pools harden. The first sign would be a rippling on the surface, as if from a winter gale. This would produce a precarious moment—as Stephen’s urge to stick a finger into the filmy layer became palpable, and his immobilized palm began to tire. Invariably, Stephen succumbed to this urge before the glue fully hardened, at which point the prior game transformed into a new one, the game of spreading still-viscous glue across the remainder of his hand.
Holy s**t, as a guy who also had a glue fetish in elementary school, I need a f***in’ cigarette after reading that!
If you’re still awake, here comes the part about how America ended up with a president bent on building a border wall:
What to make of this now, 25 years later? We were all grimy kids at some point, of course, with sticky hands and short attention spans. But it is at least poetic that Stephen was bent on building a nonsensical wall even back then, a wall that had more to do with what lay inside him than with what lay beyond. He thought he was trying to keep out the chaos of the world, when really he was looking for a way to explain away the chaos on his own side of the desk. For that was where chaos had always been.
That whole article, especially the last couple sentences above, are even better if you read them to yourself in the voice of Boris Karloff narrating “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” The only thing missing at the end was, “And Miller’s already small heart shrank three more sizes that day…”
The story’s a total joke, and yet somehow I’m thinking that in the Trump era this Politico piece might get nominated for a Pulitzer.