



The 20-foot balloon depicting a scowling orange Donald Trump in diapers was intended to depict Trump, rather than his critics, as infantile.

The “Trump Baby” balloon was the most visible symbol of the days-long diarrhea fest that the haggard and perpetually sourpussed English left dubbed a “carnival of resistance” shat out in petulant protest of the fact that the world’s most powerful man would even DARE to set foot in their resolutely suicidal nation. London’s Muslim Mayor Sadiq Khan temporarily refrained from jailing indigenous Britons for saying unkind things about immigrants on Facebook to OK a permit for the Trump Baby to float, because after all it was a “free speech” issue, and he’d never think of standing in the way of free speech.

“We realized the only way to get at him was to ridicule him,” said one of the Trump Baby’s creators Max Wakefield.

Has Max ever pulled his head out of his rectum long enough to realize they’ve been ridiculing him at maximum intensity for three years and he hasn’t batted an eyelash? Does Max realize he’s constantly laughing at them while they never stop crying about him? If Trump was the baby they insist he is, do they think he could stand a minute of this shit, much less an incessant hurricane of it? And is Max so bereft of insight that he can’t see what so many others see—that he and his ilk have been publicly losing their minds for three years and predicting all sorts of implausible doomsday scenarios simply because he got elected?

Other drearily typical examples of estrogen-addled anti-Trump performance art include a wheat field whose owner accepted money from activists to carve out a FUCK TRUMP crop circle intended to be seen by Trump as he flitted from one event to the next. I’m sure that would hurt his feelings, as he hasn’t heard that phrase at least 1,000 times a day since June of 2015.

Trump and his wife only spent one night in London. Just to be complete assholes, a group called Keep Trump Awake gathered outside perimeter fences where he was sleeping and banged “pots and pans, drums and vuvuzelas.” It’s unclear whether Trump’s sleep was affected at all. If anything, I suspect that all that hate would only help him sleep more soundly.

Activists also encouraged likeminded zombies to stream the perpetually punchable pop-punk band Green Day’s 2004 anti-Bush anthem “American Idiot” across all platforms to the point where it re-entered the British pop charts and peaked at #18.

“In this scenario, it’s clear who the diaper-wearing babies are.”

The only stunt which appeared to catch the president’s eye was some Greenpeace paraglider who flew down within 200 feet of him as he played golf at his private resort in Scotland. From the paraglider hanged a banner that read, “Trump Well Below Par #Resist.” Again, it’s almost hard to conceive of the level to which this insult bruised Trump’s legendarily fragile ego.

In the days preceding Trump’s first-ever UK visit as president last week, the mentally disorganized and physically inactive community organizers and activists who populate the modern decaying left arranged for at least 60 separate events designed to harass, mock, malign, and dehumanize the president because, well, he harasses, mocks, maligns and dehumanizes everyone and everything that they, in their endless capacity for pious delusion, hold sacred. The pre-visit hysteria was so intense that the US Embassy cautioned American tourists to “exercise caution if unexpectedly in the vicinity of large gatherings that may become violent.”

One of the main events, the Together Against Trump march and rally last Friday, was organized by a group called Stop The War Coalition. According to vice-chairman Chris Nineman, the group’s main aim is “opposing the West.”

Let that sink in for a moment.

The British media served its typical role as the bootlicking, complicit, ask-no-questions-tell-nothing-but-lies water boys for the global elite. In the course of smearing Trump as “the tangerine huckster” and “the proudest ignoramus who ever sat in the Oval Office,” The Independent chided one of Trump’s comments for its “mesmerizingly [sic] imbecility,” and there are few things I love more in this world than people misspelling things in the process of calling others dumb. The Daily Record said Trump displayed “the easy charm of an Apartheid-era South African police dog and all the subtlety of a building site wrecking ball.”

The Mirror impugned him as a “clumsy oaf” and “Theresa May’s guest from hell.” They even bragged of forming a “Mirrorachi” band consisting of “authentic” Mexicans who would sing anti-Trump parodies in public during his visits.

I tend to remember my journalism professors vaguely mumbling something about newspapers not taking sides.

Desperately seeking problems where there are none, that same Mirror article pointed to a picture of Trump and Theresa May walking and holding hands as evidence that Trump was so elderly that he “needs a helping hand.” Proving that it’s incapable of keeping its own fabricated anti-Trump narrative consistent, a separate article in the Mirror claimed that the same picture was evidence that Trump was “leading her by the hand” and thus an impenitent, pussy-grabbing woman-hater.

And then, but of course, there were the picket signs, ostensibly designed to provoke Trump into such a rage that he starts resembling the basket cases who are holding the picket signs and screaming:

Among the more erudite and restrained messages on these signs were: