Trump’s LGBT Pride Month Tweet is a Lie, Hypocrisy and a Threat

Sorry for the personal insults to Jacob, but this is one of rump’s most blatant lies. even though probably penned by one of his well-trained White House lieutenants because I don’ think he’s capable of even faking support for anything.

O-blog-dee-o-blog-da

It is Pride Month and politicians seem to think this is the time to court LGBT votes- even those ‘dispicables’ who tout our demise! Including Donald Trump: In effect Trump is complicit in the ongoing assault, rapes and deaths of LGBT people worldwide.

As many of you know I have been blocked by Donald J. Trump on his @realDonaldTrump Twitter account. He blocked me well over a year ago when a tweet of mine went viral. He could not handle the truth – being called a liar!  That said I do receive screenshots of his Tweets from friends, supporters and also through following social media of others.  If you are reading this, I would be very grateful if you would spread my perspective on his latest lie – that being his purported support of LGBT people. His current Tweet about LGBT Pride Month may ring supportive to an ignorant ear…

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About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
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