For more details on the soccer incidents discussed in this article, and an illuminating take on the JQ, check out Cato Dezorra’s How Trump is Getting the World to Root Against USA. -KB

Bashing Trump is too easy. It’s boring, predictable, and facile. Anyone with a three-digit political IQ can do it.

So let’s give the orange devil his due. He’s entertaining, often in a ghastly way. And he’s not that much worse than the competition. In some ways, he’s better: His core message that the USA has gotten much worse, declining from alleged past “greatness,” is more-or-less true. Unfortunately, the ultimate living proof of America’s putrefaction and implosion can be summed up in two words: “President Trump.”

By calling out decadence and corruption and then illustrating it better than anyone, Trump inadvertently reveals the horrible truth, a truth that normal politicians are paid to conceal. When he calls himself “the best president in the history of Israel,” Trump unveils the real role the “US” president has had to play since that dark day when Israel murdered JFK.

Ever since Trump declared he was running for president in 2015 I have been comparing him to Père Ubu, Alfred Jarry’s obscene parody of political leadership. Jarry was drawing on the carnivalesque genre famously analyzed by M.M. Bakhtin. The European tradition of carnivals, which has some analogues in other cultures (tricksters, sacred clowns, clown-kings) involves setting aside a period of time when normal rules don’t apply. During the festival period, a “fool king” is appointed as Lord of Misrule whose job is to preside over an anarchic celebration in which normal hierarchies are inverted.

I always loved Bakhtin—best literary theorist ever!—and the carnivalesque genre he celebrated. So I have to admit to occasional flashes of perverse enjoyment of the antics of America’s all-time-greatest fool king. (When I wrote in Bonzo the Chimp for president in 1980 as a protest against Ronald “Amiable Dunce” Reagan, little did I suspect that Americans would one day actually elect an orangutan.)

And as a satirist, I appreciate Trump. He makes my work easy, if not superfluous.

But there is a world of difference between “electing” a clown as a living parody of vice to misrule over a carnival, knowing that the carnival will soon end with the reign of virtue restored, and giving an evil clown like Trump or Caligula or Sabbatai Zevi or Idi Amin the actual keys to the kingdom. That’s like dropping bad acid at the carnival and watching it melt into a bestial festival of never-ending hellishness.

And that’s pretty much where we are now, 1000+ days into the US-funded Gaza genocide.

Athletic Competitions Are Spectacles Not Carnivals

Athletic competitions, like carnivals, are spectacles. But they are a different species of spectacle.

Carnivals are all about vice making fun of itself and letting off steam. In carnivals, as in hypocrisy, vice offers a backhanded tribute to virtue.

But virtue is the backbone of athletic competitions. First and most obviously, to become an elite competitor in any sport, you need to overcome various vices including laziness, negligence, gluttony, hedonism, and so on.

Then once you’re in the competition, the moral virtues become key: courage, temperance and above all fair play. The instinctive desire to win is vicious and bestial unless fully reined in by the rule of justice.

Trump, like his Kosher Nostra mentors, doesn’t understand this. Jews, who have always been outsiders and criminals, refusing heartfelt submission to the rules and ethics and laws of the goyim, have always had a “win at all costs” mentality that has served them well in organized crime. That’s why Jewish organized crime in the person of Roy Cohn created the Trump we know today. That’s why Jewish organized crime (especially the then-emerging emerging Russian branch) had its headquarters on the top floor of Trump Tower. And that’s why Trump like so many others is sexually blackmailed by the Axis of Epstein and related Jewish crime operations indistinguishable from the so-called state of “Israel.”

All of this helps us understand why Kosher Nostra carnival clown Trump just ruined the USA’s once-promising World Cup bid. For those who missed it, here is the summary courtesy of Google Gemini:

Donald Trump successfully intervened to have the one-match suspension from a red card lifted for United States Men’s National Team (USMNT) star striker Folarin Balogun during the 2026 World Cup. [1]

Trump, the mafia Don, called up his sycophantic slimeball friend Gianni Infantino, who runs FIFA like the crime organization it is, to force World Cup Soccer to suspend its rules and cheat in favor of the American team. And Infantino, who enjoys inserting his tongue in Trump’s orifices while bestowing imaginary FIFA-Nobel Peace Prizes on the world’s worst warmonger, naturally went along with the cheat. Trump and his equally deranged and criminal cronies all bragged about ruining soccer in general and the World Cup in particular by revoking the red-card ban on the US team’s thuggish star Balogun.

This grotesque, quintessentially Trumpian spectacle of Kosher Nostra style criminal chutzpah naturally appalled and disgusted the entire world, causing the global public to turn rabidly and decisively against the Americans, who had previously been viewed as lovable if slightly klutzy underdogs from a country that has never been very good at soccer. The whole world tuned into USA-vs.-Belgium last night hoping for the USA to get brutally stomped, preferably including several broken ankles. But the Belgian players, unlike the US team and the US president, had more class than that. They just went out and crushed Team Corruption USA on the field, making the Americans look dazed and stupid as the Belgians sailed to a 4-1 butt-kicking of Trump’s pathetic red-white-and-blue creeps.

It hasn’t always been that way. Back when America was “great,” or at least greater than it is now, which isn’t saying much, Americans honored probity and fair play and the spirit of sportsmanship. I witnessed one stellar example up close: my father’s Olympic career. I was only a year old in 1960 when my 25-year-old dad competed in his first Olympics in Naples, finishing 11th in the Finn sailboat competition. He returned to once again represent the US in Tokyo in 1964, winning a silver medal. And that’s where the sportsmanship thing comes in: During one of the races, he called a foul on himself that no-one else saw, turning away rather than crossing the finish line first. And that act of extreme honesty, unheard-of in the competitive sailing world where people generally try to deny or minimize their own fouls, cost him a gold medal.

By 1968, when my dad was back in the Olympics hunting that elusive gold, I was old enough to travel to Acapulco to watch him. My most intense memory, aside from the acrid stench of Mexican vomit washing all over the decks of the spectator boat, was watching him being awarded the gold medal.

Having a father who was legendary not only for intense competitiveness, but also for good sportsmanship, I feel sorry for Don Jr. and Barron Trump, who will be inheriting a lot of filthy money and the court cases and reputational stain associated with it, and with their world-class scumbag of a father.