The Putin Report
John Butch Preston
My name is Ted. In a little private chat Putin is telling President Trump that his big head of yellow hair is the thing he finds most unsightly about him. It hurts my eyes!
What? says Trump, as he softly pats his big overlap with a chuckle. What’s wrong with my hair? People love it. At least I have hair! Leaning back and regarding Trump’s hair with a crusty little grin, Putin says, Yes, but it’s phony, a biological lie, Donald.
Trump leans in towards Putin with a sort of triumphant air and says, But, lying has gotten us both a long way hasn’t it, Vladimir? Putin sits back a little indignantly. I wouldn’t make the mistake of comparing yourself to me, if I were you, Donald. I’m a ruler of a vast country over which I wield absolute power. I dictate; I don’t have to lie. But you’re a master at it, I must admit.
Trump begins slowly as if dredging up memories. When I was four years old my father sat me on his knee and told me the secret to life. He said, Why tell the truth when it’s to your advantage to tell a lie. Even at four I believed this with all my heart because my father was a rich man. And since being rich is the only reason for—
Yeah, yeah, I know, Donald. But we’re talking about that hair, not money. If you combed that head of hair straight back instead of lapping it over you’d look like a hippie! Trump laughs. You mean then I’d be a democrat! This isn’t funny, Donald. I need you to look more distinguished, more statesman-like. At your age your hair should be gray and neatly trimmed. You remind me of that Fonz on Happy Days.
Look, Vladimir, you have no control over my personal appearance, my personal life. Ha! Putin barks. Your personal life! I could show the world your personal life! Trump gives him a sharp look. Yeah, but still, I consider my hair to be my own business, a fashion statement, my own style—which I consider untouchable. Putin sneers. Is that the way your wife, Melania, feels about it when she wakes up of a morning and sees that mop splayed out on your pillow—untouchable!
For your information, Vladimir, I have my hair combed and sprayed and my Man-Tan applied before she even sees me in the morning. That’s how much you know. Putin laughs. You kill me, Donald, with that orange Man-Tan and those white circles around your eyes. If you really cared about your looks, you’d get rid of that big gut you try to hide with those long ties you wear. You’re basically a big yellow-haired slob, Donald.
Yeah? Well, tell that to my base, Vladimir. They think I’m a rock star. Your base! Putin groans. That ragtag bunch of Jesus freaks and rednecks! Ha! Don’t make me laugh. Trump cocks his yellow head defensibly. They’re the salt of the earth, my friend.
Sugar water, you mean, falling for those sentimental alter calls of yours. You wouldn’t allow a single person in that crowd through the backdoor of Mar a Largo and you know it! Besides, it was my people who sealed the deal for you.
Yeah, well, let’s not forget what I’ve done and can do for you either! But you’ve been weakened, says Putin Your problem is that you don’t pay your generals enough to protect you. Trump sadly smiled. It don’t work that way in America; all I can do is increase defense spending. My hands are tied. Yeah, I know, Donald. That’s what’s wrong with your country. You can say that again, Trump said shaking his head and slapping the table with the flat of his hand.
You know who you really remind me of, Donald? Old Nikita Khrushchev! I wouldn’t be surprised to turn on CNN some morning and see you pounding the table with your shoe! Really! says Trump, smiling with pride.
But tell me, Putin smirked. How are you going to maintain that pukey yellow hair in prison? Melania going to sneak in bottles of Clairol in her bosom on visiting day? What makes you think I’m going to prison, Trump shoots back? Because I’m former KGB, Donald. I can detect the least speck of fear in people’s eyes; you’ve got jail time written all over your face. And when they get you we’re through, of course.
Ha, I wouldn’t give up on the Donald if I were you, Vladimir. I’m headed for a second term! I seriously doubt that, but there’s one thing I can definitely say for sure about you, Donald. And I think your whole country will agree with me. What’s that, asked Trump? Putin suddenly raises his voice: YOU’RE AS BIG AS LIFE AND TWICE AS FANTASTIC!
I have come to the conclusion Sir that you are a deranged individual who is truly suffering from Trump Derangement Syndrome. This article is a waste of space on this website.
Why be jealous of a man who worked to become rich? Why not get out there and put together real estate deals and other business plans that will make you rich? Some deals work out; some do not. That’s what makes America great. Anyone with imagination and energy can improve life’s lot by dint of hard work and workable plans.
Most people have their stopping off place. It took nine and one-half years for me to get a college degree working full-time. One acquaintance quit with one and half year to her degree because she got bored and tired of the challenge. Now she laments only being able to get low paying jobs.
Why put down our president? It only reflects on your basic character. So Trump apparently keeps his hair looking good. So what! Trump has made his mistakes. He just learned to roll with the punches. Cut the guy a break. His belief in himself is large enough that he obviously believes that he can get the job done without the help of anyone else.
If you want to be fair, take on the other side. But this isn’t about fairness, is it. It’s about low class journalism served up with jealousy and spite.
How would you feel if someone made disparaging comments about your physical appearance? Good manners constrains most of us to politeness and consideration for others.
Ah, the pleasure of being able to write without fear of censorship; just the bemused glance of disdain at how far down the scale of quality journalism we have slid.
It takes courage to rise to the level of journalism that newsmen/women of the past made their standard. Give it a try. It may be better than the scorn that comes your way as one feels amused by your infantile flailing. You can do better than writing such drivel. Quality of character is still a desirable trait.
My name is Ted. I’m not a Journalist, Diane. I’m an essayist. Big, big difference. Think about it!
I’m not sure you even qualify for an ‘essayist’; and that doesn’t require any rumination.
Amazing what liberals will do to spew their hatred for Trump. Still upset over the 2016 election, and so consumed with hatred that they dont even realize they have assured Trumps victory in 2020, and for that….we than you.
Well, well, well. We seem to have a bit of mystery here. Is Ted Preston, writing under the banner of John Butch Preston, a separate individual? Or is Ted Preston the alter ego of John Butch Preston?
As a purveying pundit of prose, whether you style yourself as a journalist or an essayist, the above article was clearly written to a newsletter and from the pen of a person with a fertile imagination for fairy tales.
My own claim to a personal relationship to Putin is that I once worked with a retired United States four star general who was a personal friend of Colin Powell who was Secretary of State under President George W. Bush who had dealings as president with V. Putin. My claim to a personal relationship to President Trump was when he held a rally ten miles from where I live. (No, I did not attend the rally.) Please do take this paragraph as satire.
By no means of a stretch of reality would I pen an article claiming a relationship between Putin and Trump that the above article implies. The motivation of penning any essay should still fall under the desirable traits of fair play and truth. While the above article may provide entertainment to some, it falls far from the high standard of truth and, I repeat, is clearly a fairy tale.
But as an essayist myself, I can clearly hope that advice from an elder will prove fruitful for future prose.
You’ll never convince these believers of Trump that he isn’t the second coming and not the narcatisitic ego maniac thief and con man that he is! He’s a joke and embarrassment to America and all that we have stood for since the beginning of out democracy.
Tom, two things…
1) What is “narcatisitic” ?
2) You don’t live in a democracy
There are some individuals out there who are all but impossible to get along with. Their arrogance causes them to see themselves as all but infallible while everyone else deserves to be criticized intensely. These individuals are known as narcissists, and it’s very likely you know at least one. Narcissists are manipulative and can learn to cover up their nature when someone is first getting to know them, though over time, they will often reveal their true selves. Should you feel like someone is emotionally abusing you or is unable to take any criticism, you might be dealing with a narcissist. There are many traits to narcissists, too many for me to put here, but I’m sure with your keen eye for spelling you’ll have no problem looking them up. I guess your right about that democracy thing, if we did you wouldn’t have that man you call president in the position he’s in.
Oh, “narcissist”. I see. You said “narcatisitic”. Quite a spelling error for someone as edumacated as you.