Send In The Clowns

Two weeks into the Trump presidency and it’s all kicking off stateside. The Shitkicker King taking little time to become schoolground bully, attempting to steal Canada, Greenland, and Panama’s lunch money.

As a non-American I’d love to watch these scenes across the pond with indifference. Let the red necks, 30-year-old virgins, gun freaks, and ill-educated dipshits who voted for Trump stew in their own toxic juices. After all, they’ve made their bed, now let them lay in it.

Sadly, though, what happens in the US ultimately affects us all globally. The world subjected by proxy to the spiteful, ill thought out and pointless revenge edicts spawned by a man who doesn’t give a flying f*** about anyone but himself. Our security, finances, and socio/political existences jeopardised from Trump’s governance by retribution.

The overgrown Ompah Lompah and the MAGA ideology bringing to mind the following verse (which I have adapted slightly) from Stephen Sondheim’s ‘Send in the Clowns’:-

“Don’t you love farce? 
Your fault, I fear
What you want aint what I want
Sorry, my dear
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns
Don’t bother they’re here.”

Have your grocery prices gone down yet Wisconsin? Your gas prices lower Florida? Your borders secure yet Texas?… No, I thought not!

Anyway, I digress. One of the biggest takes I have taken since the Trump clown show started it’s second performance is Elon Musk’s membership in his cabal of misfit cronies. To be clear, my notions not from what the South African is or isn’t doing to make America efficient again.

Moreover, every time I see Musk’s dead behind the eye face on TV, a song from 1980s’ British comedy Spitting Image springs to mind. A witty satirical ditty called ‘I’ve Never Met A Nice South African’. Song lyrics residing for hours in my neurological corridors whenever I see Elon at the podium which play out as follows:-

“I’ve travelled this old world of ours from Barnsley to Peru
I’ve had sunshine in the arctic and a swim in Timbuktu
I’ve seen unicorns in Burma and a Yeti in Nepal
And I’ve danced with ten foot pygmies in a Montezuma hall
I’ve met the King of China and a working Yorkshire miner

But I’ve never met a nice South African.
No he’s never met a nice South African
And that’s not bloody surprising man
‘Cause we’re a bunch of arrogant bastards
Who hate black people

I once got served in Woolies aften less than four week’s wait
I had lunch with Rowan Atkinson when he paid and wasn’t late
I know a public swimming bath where they don’t piss in the pool
I know a guy who got a job straight after leaving school
I’ve met a normal merman and a fairly modest German

But I’ve never met a nice South African.
No he’s never met a nice South African
And that’s not bloody surprising man
‘Cause we’re a bunch of talentless murderers
Who smell like baboons

I’ve had a close encounter of the twenty-second kind
That’s when an alien spaceship disappears up your behind
I got directory enquiries after less than forty rings
I’ve even heard a decent song by Paul McCartney’s Wings
I’ve seen a flying pig in a quite convincing wig

But I’ve never met a nice South African.
No he’s never met a nice South African
And that’s not bloody surprising man
‘Cause we’re a bunch of ignorant loudmouths
With no sense of humour

I’ve met the Loch Ness monster and he looks like Fred Astaire
At the BBC in London he’s the chief commissionaire
I know a place in Glasgow which is rife with daffodillies
I met a man in Katmandu who claimed to have two willies
I’ve had a nice pot noodle but I’ve never had a poodle

And I’ve never met a nice South African.
No he’s never met a nice South African
And that’s not bloody surprising man
Because we’ve never met one either
Except for Breyten Breytenbach and he’s emigrated to Paris.
Yes he’s quite a nice South African
And he’s hardly ever killed anyone
And he’s not smelly at all.
That’s why they put him prison.”

 Song written by John Lloyd & Peter Brewis