It was a sunny Saturday morning in West Point, that venerable military academy on the Hudson River, when the President of the United States stepped onto the stage \u2013 wearing a red \u201cMake America Great Again\u201d cap, walking heavily, yet determined to once again cloud the national consciousness with a mixture of nostalgia, confusion, and ideological scorn. What followed was less a speech than a meandering, hour-long monologue \u2013 an intellectual wreckage that can only be described as a declaration of bankruptcy of the mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Trophy Wives, Golf Balls, and Al Capone<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Trump spoke \u2013 and spoke. About diversity programs, which he proudly denounced as \u201cdemeaning\u201d and \u201cdivisive.\u201d About the \u201cliberation\u201d of the troops from education, inclusion, and respect. About trans people, who in his world simply do not exist. About drag shows, golfers, suburban developers, William Levitt and his divorce. And \u2013 in a turn bordering on the bizarre \u2013 about Alphonse Capone, the infamous gangster boss, whom he compared to himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019ve been through a very hard time with some very radical, pathological people \u2013 and I\u2019m telling you: I was pursued more than the great, late Alphonse Capone, the President told the cadets without so much as blinking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n