Good gravy, liberal armchair politicians are the worst generals. Goliath comes walking along the front lines, full of taunts and contempt, and y’all are literally like, “no, no, this person can’t fight him. This person can’t fight him. OMG, what are we going to do?”
That’s part of the story: a whole army of terrified, traumatized soldiers. They should be crawling over each other to punch that SOB in his puckered sphincter of a mouth, but none of them do. It takes a shepherd boy to do the job. And his big brother is like, “How arrogant of you to show up thinking you can win.” (1 Samuel 17)
Y’all are like, “there are too many people running!” I am glad we’ve got a variety of people throwing their hat into the ring to fight. I expect them to throw some punches and get elbowed in the face on their way to do a job that maybe slightly less than half the country will hate them for. If only one person volunteered to do the job, or stepped aside meekly when someone you think is more qualified showed up, I would weep for humanity.
This guy isn’t even a giant! He’s literally the worst president in history who posts photoshopped images of himself as a fighter. Never actually been in a damn fight in his life, can’t walk with other world leaders without getting winded. Has to ride in a golf cart. Tweets from the toilet at 3AM. Only in power because a corrupt cabal of oligarchs will lie and cheat to keep a useful idiot in power.
And of course, all of this physical violence metaphor is fiction anyway. Trump isn’t even real. He’s in your imagination. Nobody’s throwing punches, they’re just saying words. The real violence happens down the chain, far away from CNN.
Our biggest enemy is our fear and hopelessness. This is why, in the story, it takes a poet to kill a giant.