CSI: American Carnage (Sunday, February 24, 2019)
Deep beneath the melting snow and the driving rain, far from the tornado vortex sweeping the stubbled fields and the dying towns, the Dark Ones sit, sipping their green tea within the vast central plains complex. They have departed from the Chamber of Consternation, a favorite spot in the wake of the 2018 midterms, and now relax within the Salon of Subterfuge. High on the walls are portraits passed down from Father – Robert Welch, Roy Cohn, Harry Lynde Bradley, H.L. Hunt, and the immortal Edwin Walker, so beloved by Sterling Hayden, it is said. The elder brother gazes up at the portraits and says, My brother, the gambler showman will destroy great art, such as this, the art we have here in our beloved retreat. What do you mean, my brother? the younger replies. Yes he has spurred the market in kitschy gold figures, but I think the market for sober renderings of serious men is eternal. The elder brother chuckles. He says, Serious men? The gambler showman has much to say about serious men who afford respect. Are you suggesting that he will spark a run on portraits of Vincent the Fish? Perhaps a likeness of Carmine Galante, or Fat Tony? Can you just see a portrait of Joey No Socks in the Lincoln Bedroom? Perhaps Paul Castellano or other Gambinos, a group portrait. Little Nicky might make an appearance, too. Ho ho ho. The younger says, A recent post on FreedomArt.net seeks proposals for a figurative work featuring Alimzhan Tokhtakhounov and select Russian players in the gambler showman’s Trump Tower games. The elder says, The gambler showman is remarkable, in his way. He plays his obvious games with open abandon. The younger responds, That abandon extends to his family and associates, the Kushner family. The elder says, Obviously. Is there anything about the showman that isn’t obvious? The younger replies, This latest Kushner scheme is wonderful. The elder says, You don’t mean the Qatari bailout of the aptly numbered 666, do you? The younger says, No, but that was a tremendous effort by the Brookfield firm to engineer the deal just months before the young prince would go down in real estate flames. And who could forget the Qatari’s expression of surprise? What? Kushner owned the building? We had no idea? We are shocked! Ho ho ho. No, I refer to the paltry $1 billion federal housing loan the young prince just magically received from the gambler showman’s housing agencies. Perhaps the biggest loan ever. No Qataris get that money. Only the young prince and his baby doll. The elder says, That may sting certain parties on the Gulf. But the Qataris will be well represented in the Trump Art Gallery International’s inaugural exhibitions in Atlantic City, Las Vegas, Moscow, Astana, Riyadh, Jerusalem, New Jerusalem, formerly known as Tehran, Manila, Pyongyang, Reno, and Queens. Ho ho ho. The younger says, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, says, I don’t think the gambler showman will immortalize his humble beginnings as the son of a Queens real-estate scrooge. His links to the Jews and the Jew-hating Saudis, absolutely. But Queens, home of the blacks and the Hispanics? The elder brother grows thoughtful. You are probably right, my brother. There are certainly many, many members of the DeVos family worthy of hanging. He might well start there. The brothers laugh together and sip their green tea.
— Sunday, Feb. 24, 2019