Is Donald Trump Killing Americans? Really

I must admit that I've just about had enough of Donald Trump, and I wish I could filter him out of my life.

Just the sound of his whiny voice, or the sight of his bloated orange ugliness, is sometimes enough to make me feel like vomiting.

So about a week ago I was glad to find out that I am not alone.



And that the Washington Post's Dana Milbank felt like Trump was killing him. Really.

President Trump is killing me. No, really. He’s killing me. I went for my annual physical last month, and, for the first time in my 49 years, I had to report that I’ve not been feeling well: fatigue, headaches, poor sleep, even some occasional chest pain. My doctor checked my blood pressure, which had always been normal before: alarmingly high!

Felt that he was suffering from Trump Hypertensive Unexplained Disorder, or THUD.

And that he wasn't the only one.

I have a strong suspicion THUD is a widespread phenomenon. A dentist tells me orders have surged in the Washington area for night guards because more people are clenching and grinding their teeth in the Trump era.

Psychotherapists tell me that they are unusually busy and that most clients are talking about Trump, who is exacerbating whatever neurosis, depression or other conditions they had. This is probably quantifiable, but I am too fatigued to do this work. My heart can only take so much.

But while Milbank would later claim he wrote that article "half in jest."

He now says that judging from the reaction he has received, Trump actually is making both those who despise him, and those who worship him, crazy.



From the left came a flood of responses from people experiencing all manner of symptoms, real or imagined, of what I called Trump Hypertensive Unexplained Disorder: Disturbed sleep. Anger. Dread. Weight loss. Overeating. Headaches. Fainting. Irregular heartbeat. Chronic neck pain. Depression. Irritable bowel syndrome. Tightness in the chest. Shortness of breath. Teeth grinding. Stomach ulcer. Indigestion. Shingles. Eye twitching. Nausea. Irritability. High blood sugar. Tinnitus. Reduced immunity. Racing pulse. Shaking limbs. Hair loss. Acid reflux. Deteriorating vision. Stroke. Heart attack.

From the other side came a similar profusion of responses, in email, on Facebook and from the cesspool known as Twitter, of people wishing me dead. “Hurry up and die already! . . . DO US ALL A FAVOR AND JUST CURL UP AND DIE !!!!!!!!! . . . With any luck at all Milback [sic] will succumb. . . . just see a dr. You know, Dr Kevorkian.” Dozens of Trump supporters delighted in responding by making vulgar references to vaginas, and one wrote to my wife to say it gave him “endless satisfaction” to report that my death is likely.

Then there was somebody under the Twitter handle @deacongfrost: “I HAPPILY KILL YOU.”

Which at the very least does help explain why so many tourists are avoiding the United States. 

U.S. tourism officials had been fretting about the possible ‘Trump Slump’ all year, and now government data has confirmed their worst fears: International tourism plummeted during the first three months of 2017. And that sharp decline has cost the industry, and the U.S. economy as a whole, billions in lost spending.

But is of course no joke.

Not when Trump isn't doing that well either...



But we are forced to read his Twitter feed to find out whether the world is going to end tomorrow.

And not when we in Canada have our own would be Trump to worry about...



Who might not destroy the world, but would kill this country.

And the question is what are we going to do about it?

As the mental-health professionals sort this out, I’ll be contemplating the many suggestions helpful readers sent in for treating my own Trump-induced illness: acupuncture, Himalayan herbs, vitamin supplements, yoga, flossing, playing with puppies — and the most common suggestion, unplugging from the news.

But while I'm very tempted to go for the playing with puppies cure, alas I have not any.

And I'd probably need a lot of them if the cure was going to work...



Although this beauty has the right idea...



And like him we all know that there is only one way to cure this RepubliCon disease.

Organize, unite, smash those grubby fascists, and bury them once and for all.

But since it's the weekend, and it's going to be 32 degrees in the place where I live, I think I'll just try unplugging from the news.

And try to stay cool, at least until Monday... 



If we're still here.

Stay strong. Think how great we're all going to feel when Donald Trump hits the ground with a sickening THUD.

And have a great weekend everybody...