In of all places.

Donald Trump is a freak. Don’t get me wrong. That’s not necessarily meant as insult. After all, I’m a freak, too. Eccentric. Unusual. Odd. A bit crazy. Goes to show that Trump and I have something in common. We’re freaks. Of course, I’m not dangerous. I’m a mere harmless nobody freak. Hidden away in my own remote corner.  Trump, meanwhile, is president of the United States. Could he pose a freakish danger? Consider. He has a finger on the nuclear launch button. He could start a colossal and devastating war. On a freakish whim. Consider. He’s easily angered. Consider. That he’s hugely self-absorbed. In love with himself. A narcissist. Thin-skinned, too. Consider. Watches cable television. Incessantly. As a main source for his news. Consider.  Fires off bombastic and huffy tweets. In the middle of the night. Yes. Yes. So very much. It all adds up. To freakish behavior, doesn’t it? Sounds scary. The potential perils of a freak. Residing. In of all places, the White House. --Jim Broede