Meet Donald Dead, the 48th President
Captain Petard encounters Corporal Hoist
Bryan Zepp Jamieson
August 2nd, 2025
An acquaintance of mine, one married to endless conspiracy theories, does a pretty good job of keeping me up to date on what’s happening out on the further reaches of the human psyche. The West—not Putin—invaded the Ukraine because nearly all the world’s adrenochrome is made there. The evil Zelenskyy has entire factories filled with Russian infants to meet the world’s demand. Putin is a fine man who is working hard to save the world from the Illuminati. Hillary seeded the world’s truth-seekers with the false information that she was running a sex cabal in the basement of a pizza joint that had no basement in order to discredit them. The real pizza joint does have a basement!
You get the idea. Of course reasoned debate is out of the question, so mostly I just nod and look quizzically interested.
I can’t resist poking the bear a bit, though. He once surmised that my ancient Ford Explorer was actually made in Russia, and I said that this would explain why the “R” on my column transmission display was backwards. Here I thought Ford was just being clever and put “Reverse” in reverse. From the look on his face, I’m sure he snuck over very late that night and peered in to my drivers’ side dash to see if that was true or not. To this day, I have no idea why he thought Dora was made in the Soviet Union. Not going to ask: I don’t want to remind him I pulled a practical joke on him.
This morning, he was declaiming that Putin was our friend and meant us no harm. “What about the nuclear sabre rattling we’re hearing from Medvedev?” I asked. “Trump’s moving nuclear subs toward Russia now!”
He sighed. “Look, I know you’re a Democrat…”
“Independent”
He waved that away. Anyone who denies the obvious truth about chemtrails and claims the planets are millions of miles away is a Democrat. Stands to reason, dunnit?
“Let me tell you about this ‘Trump.’” I could hear the scare quotes.
“The man I voted for was six foot three and was in peak physical shape. The guy they replaced him with is short, fat, and stupid.”
I had to concede the point. The guy everyone is calling Donald Trump is, in fact, short, fat, and stupid.
But I had questions.
He went on to explain that he had photographic proof that Trump was shorter than Justin Trudeau or the Queen. Well, by the time they met, the Queen was very old and I doubt she cleared five feet in her tiara. I got a mental image of Trump as Danny DeVito wearing a Harpo Marx wig.
“The queen of the Neverlands” he clarified. Ah, well, a not disprovable statement, that.
“So what became of the Trump you, erm, voted for?”
This resulted in a long and detailed rant which both saved me the trouble of asking more questions and prevented me from asking more questions. It was a happy confluence of tactics.
It seems the real Trump, now probably dead, learned about the Illuminati’s secret plan to allow a cabal of the world’s richest and most elite to take over the United States and basically sell the whole country for parts and make slaves of all Americans. Being Trump, he resolved to stand against these evil, Zionist monsters and protect the lives of all Americans, the way he tried to in 2001, when he tried to prevent the attack on the Twin Towers, which he secretly owned.
After a while my dog tried to bite him and he took the hint and my dog (16 years old and twenty-five pounds) and I resumed our walk. Gave me time to ponder the latest samizdat from Alex Jones Land.
Trump spent years flogging the Epstein files as a conspiracy theory that he would reveal to a breathless world “on the first day” and we all know now how that came around to bite him on the ass. And of course the reason people believed Trump was 6’3 and weighed 225 pounds is because he has stridently insisted that he meets those particular dimensions. (Those happen to match Mohammad Ali in his prime, so there’s that.)
No matter how insistent Trump is on this point, and no matter how gullible his believers, the simple fact is that he is nowhere near 6’3” and probably hasn’t seen 225 pounds since his Wharton days. But rather than simply admit that Trump was fibbing about his height and weight (and it’s a normally harmless thing that a lot of people fib about) they decide that the real, honest and brave Donald Trump has been replaced by this shambling, foul, pathetic excuse.
Of all Robert A. Heinlein’s books, one of my favorites is “Double Star,” which tells the tale of a hack actor who is brought in secretly to be a stand-in double for an immensely popular and charismatic politician who has been badly injured in an assassination attempt. What makes it such a great read is that Heinlein richly detailed all the intricacies and pitfalls involved in such an impersonation, no matter how gifted the actor or how distinct the mannerisms of the politician.
The obvious logical question is how anyone could be fooled by the vast difference between the imaginary Donald Trump and the real one. The answer is that millions were fooled; they honestly believed that Trump was tall and athletic and brave and noble. So, now that the truth is impossible to ignore, they’ve decided the real Donald would never lie or deceive them; so he must have been taken down, even killed, for a variety of nefarious reasons.
If this one catches on, it could be very bad news indeed for Trump. It gives his millions of true believers an ‘out’ in which they can reconcile the difference between the ideal and the reality without having to admit they got scammed. And nobody is going to support that shoddy excuse of a replacement, are they?
It could be explosive, and utterly destroy this fake Trump. It’s a very dangerous notion.
But I have faith in you, my readers. You love Trump and wish him well, and so you won’t be passing along what is clearly a demented theory that nobody could possibly believe.
Right?
