I will not wish that anything bad happens to Trump – rather I will quote from Dylan’s Masters of War
There is a rich irony in Donald Trump having succumbed to the Coronavirus (or Chinavirus) having done his best to write it off as a hoax or mild dose of flu.
However I’m not going to wish that Trump dies. Rather I hope that he suffers the fate of 6 (at least) children who perished at his hands in US custody for the ‘crime’ of having been ‘illegal refugees’.
What happened to those children in US custody was murder and as Trump is such an avid supporter of the death penalty I can only hope he recovers sufficiently in order that he can be put to death by due process of the law. However since that is not possible given the state of US ‘justice’ I am prepared to accept the advice of the last stanzaof Bob Dylan’s Masters of War.
I understand that the social media giants – Facebook and Twitter and Tiktok – are taking down posts that wish Trump an early demise. These monopoly representatives of capitalism and the racist warmongers are behaving exactly as we expect them to. Twitter has consistently provided a platform for the racist and warmongering output of Trump including his admiration of White supremacists.
We can expect nothing more from these hypocrites who won’t tolerate anyone wishing death on Trump but they are happy to accept his racist rantings against the most defenceless people in society.
Tony Greenstein
And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead
"Masters Of War"
Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks
You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly
Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain
You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion'
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud
You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins
How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do
Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul
And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead