It's a launch.
So here we go, my Dear Friends, because if you're reading this, then yes, Donald J. Trump has been sworn in as 45th President of these United States of America, and apparently, the world has not blown up. Yet. But give him some time. He's definitely on the job. Seriously. After all, his entire goal, dare to say, his entire con was: become really rich, and famous, and sleep with some of the most beautiful women in the world, and even marry some, and raise a beautiful and successful family, who've also started or will soon start their own beautiful and successful families (the entire world is keeping an eye on you, Tiffany; so pretty, so smart, so the black sheep (not that there's anything wrong with that)) and, he's gonna take it all, everything he's worked so hard for, with panache and pizzazz and the occasional money-grab (money-grab), and he's gonna blow it all up?
But, I think not.
And with that being said, or written, or ignored, I cordially invite you all, my all-mighty and always-listening (and never-responding) reluctant audience, to join your humble commentator in the final itineration (big word alert; google it) of the first phase of the last phase of 'The Inquiry into The Philosophy of Humor: A Critique', as I chronicle the first 100 days of The Donald J. Trump Apocalypse, along with the usual diversions into eternally long-winded tangents, and circle-logics, and pretzel-haikus, and puns (of course), and cliches (reluctantly), and fulminations, diatribes, philippics, raspberries, animadversions, bullyrags, readings of the riot act, middle-finger flag downs, scoffings, slanders, calumnies, and licks with the rough side of the tongue1, all with my absolute and utmost respect, and, the sometimes and occasionally (and likely to be accidentally) funny line, now and forever to be known as...
The Fine Line.
1O'Rourke, P.J. "Yes, I'm not related to Bill O'Reilly." (The Atlantic Monthly Press; 1995)