So now, you can breathe a giant sigh of relief, right? Who could possibly worry about his mind? If Donald Trump's "morality" is the only thing that stands between us and him doing more or less anything he wants, however destructively, on this planet of ours, then what could possibly go wrong?
And speaking of nightmares (or even obituaries), oil is Donald Trump's dream liquid -- and oil is hell. In the long run on this already overheating planet of ours, oil means war, not on this country's potential enemies, or even Donald Trump's, but on all of us. (And the U.S. is indeed an increasingly violent petro state, as Mark Hertsgaard has recently reminded us at the Nation magazine.)
The very decision to elect Trump to the presidency, not once, but twice, should be considered the popular equivalent of preparing an obituary not just for him but for this country, this planet, all of us. And it might read something like this. Or rather, let me just start it for you, since I know that you won't have the slightest problem filling in the rest:
"Donald Trump, the 45th president of the United States, died yesterday. Born in New York City on June 14, 1946, he would come to be known for many things from the TV show The Apprentice to pussy-grabbing. ("I don't even wait. And when you're a star, they let you do it. You can do anything" Grab 'em by the pussy. You can do anything.") And that admission, which came just before his first presidential election contest against Hillary Clinton, didn't do the trick. He still won, which certainly tells you something about the United States (if, that is, we were writing an obituary not of a president but of a country).
But perhaps his presidency was most significant not for grabbing this country's p*ssy, but for murdering time. He was America's first green-new-scam president, the "drill, baby, drill" candidate who proved all too ready to devastate not just a few women, or a pile of American voters, but the planet itself. Hey, if you happen to want to close down wind farms, but keep coal plants open, you know just the man to vote for (yet again)."
The Anything-Goes President
We don't know yet what our future holds. Donald Trump could have a heart attack tomorrow and kiss this planet and the rest of us goodbye. But if he lasts the next three years, having already figured out how to largely ignore Congress -- really, who needs Congress to blow up ships in the Caribbean and the Eastern Pacific Ocean, or invade Venezuela, or take Greenland? -- and do whatever the hell he wants to do, the Constitution be damned, there's always the distinct possibility that he'll deal with the 22nd Amendment, which prevents any president from having a third term in office, in a similar fashion. When it comes to running for president yet again, he's already said: "I would love to do it." And perhaps the key line in any future obituary of Donald Trump could prove to be that he broke new ground by becoming the first president since Franklin D. Roosevelt to win (or do I mean seize?) a third term in office and so become the first true American autocrat.
There's no question, he's the man, and if he can't do it, nobody can. And believe me, if he succeeds, he won't be forgotten, not on a planet he's lent such a hand to sending down, down, down. In some fashion, you might say, he's put a tariff on all of us when it comes to life on Earth and that's no small" well, I hesitate to say it" accomplishment.
If only we could put a tariff on him -- call it the autocrat tariff -- and make him pay us for the suffering he's caused and will undoubtedly continue to cause. I mean, when you think about his "accomplishments," it's no small thing the second time around to have left Congress largely in the lurch and done whatever pleased him most, with only his "own morality" to stop him.
At 79, he gives old age new meaning. He's the anything-goes president on a planet going down, down, down. The only thing, it seems, that doesn't go down (not yet, at least) is Donald J. Trump.
Having reached this point, I now wonder if my task in this piece shouldn't have been writing obituaries for Donald Trump and me but writing one for humanity and Planet Earth (at least as we've known it all these millennia). In some sense, here's the extraordinary thing: in November 2024, a near majority of American voters, 49.8% of us, to be exact, voted yet again for him as president. Anybody can understand and even excuse making a mistake once in this strange world of ours. But twice? Really? When it comes not just to a president of the United States but to the very fate of this planet?
I have a feeling that, if Trump makes it to a third term, he -- not Congress -- would have to change the preamble to the Constitution of these (dis)United States of America to read this way:
"I, the Only Person Who Matters in the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Autocracy, establish Injustice, ensure domestic and global Chaos, provide for a common offensiveness, promote the general Poorfare, and secure the Blessings of Autocrcacy to myself and my Posterity (if they even make it), do ordain and establish this Constitution for the (Dis)United States of America and a world going to hell in a handbasket."
And having done that, I suspect that we would then have to start preparing an obituary (which might be headlined "Murdering Time in the Age of Donald Trump") for this planet of ours, at least as we humans have known it all these endless centuries.
Copyright 2026 Tom Engelhardt
(Article changed on Jan 29, 2026 at 3:17 PM EST)
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