How to Fight Fuhrer Donald and Have Fun at the Same Time
Abbie Hoffmanesque Strategies to make Donald Trump Shit his Pants and have a Lovely Nervous Breakdown on Prime-Time Television
By
David Gottfried
We have to get rid of the Orange Ogre, but at this time ordinary political means seem futile: A) He won the election, B) Our Supreme Court believes he can do no wrong, C) Congress is a stable of geldings and D) the swing state voters, who decide elections, are a horde of simian slobs and half-wits slobbering over milkshakes and fried pork rinds, and I am sure that if you were to biopsy their carotid arteries, you would find layers of lard, not human fat. I just hope that soon huge tariffs on something they buy from Canada makes their check for their car loan bounce, their car is re possessed and they cry to the sheriff and the judge and the repo man that their big rich Daddy, the Humpty Dumpty Trump, will get their car back.
So, what the fuck should we do.
Maybe we should do what Abbie Hoffman recommended.
Sometime in 1969 or 1970, the outrageous leftist and Yippie Leader, Abbie Hoffman, came out with a book entitled “Steal this Book.”
“Steal this book” was a groovy guide to ditching the system when you were broke and seemingly powerless. It contained tons of tips on how to steal from companies, aid and abet the revolution, raise hell and have plenty of time left over to smoke lots of good weed and groove to some far-out music. I have been trying to find a copy of that book for about 20 years. (Does anyone know where I can get a copy.)
In any event, we should engage in lots of sweet acts of petty crime, ala Abbie Hoffman, to drive Trump crazy and perhaps make him abdicate power.
That wasn’t a pot-induced, quasi psychotic wish. My plan just might induce Trump to run away from the White House.
Trump loves, more than anything, money. He has been using the presidency to enrich his pocketbook. (In his first term, the Trump hotels were packed. People who needed a favor from the president knew they had a better chance of getting special favors if they stayed at his hotels.)
Imagine if the presidency didn’t help him make money but instead made him bleed cash. If the presidency made him bleed money, he would run away from Washington.
There are fun things we can do to make him lose money. They fuse the wit and whimsy of the Monkees with the Steely-eyed hatred of Son of Sam.
I think I remember that Abbie Hoffman said that he staged a demonstration at the Wall Street stock exchange which made investors run from defense contractors and sent those stocks into the toilet. Although my memory of Hoffman’s exploits is a bit cloudy, I remember exactly what ACT-UP (The AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) was able to actually achieve in a Wall Street Stunt and Demo:
[At the time of ACT-UP’s Wall Street Action, the only drug for AIDS was AZT. The great majority of people couldn’t afford it. Burroughs Welcome had the patent on the drug, but Burroughs Welcome never did any work or research on fabricating the drug. (AZT was invented by a scientist in 1964 – long before we knew of AIDS --- who was on the government’s payroll to find a cure for cancer.) Burroughs Welcome only rounded up suckers for the clinical trials. (And Burroughs recommended doses which were way too high and were notorious for destroying muscle tissue. Besides, after 1 to 2 years of conferring some benefit, the virus would become resistant to AZT and the patient then often died.]
ACT UP spread rumors that Burroughs Welcome was going to tank. Do you know what Wall Street investors are like ? They are largely a bunch of heterosexual faggots. They act like classical faggots because they are gossiping yentas and nervous nellies. So within about 2 and a half hours Burroughs Welcome’s stock cratered. And then they slashed prices on AZT.
Back to the Mafia Don in the White House, the Dumpy, Humping, totally corrupt Trump:
Here are some really nifty, low key criminal coups which might give Trump apoplexy.
1) Get into the kitchen of one of his super rich la di da eateries in his la di da hotels. Put acid, heavily spiked with speed (The speed will increase the possibility of bad trips), into a huge kettle of soup. (Then run away!) Imagine the scene. See the super-rich executives scratching their asses in the hallway. See people run away from his properties as if they were haunted houses.
2) Gather together about 20 rats. Unleash the rats in his hotels. I hope they have fun biting the legs of the Maga Republican jackasses.
3) Buy a pre-paid phone. (Don’t use a credit card.) I better stop here.
About Breaking the Law (Perhaps we must smash the law to save it):
It might seem odd to suggest that we can save the law by smashing it, but the ruling class has spoken in seemingly illogical and convoluted ways in past, perilous times. For example, Robert Kennedy excoriated our prosecution of the war in Vietnam by quoting an American general who, upon destroying a town with 10 to 20 thousand residents, said, “We had to destroy the town in order to save it.”
If the law were a living being, and it had just been admitted to a hospital’s emergency room, any decent Doctor of Jurisprudence would have to declare American Law dead on Arrival:
1) Its pupils are fixed and frozen, because it refuses to see the flagrant falsity it spews like venom.
2) Its breath sounds are absent because it has stilled all speech as it condemns all pluralism: As they chanted in Nazi Germany: “Ein Reich, Ein Volk, Ein Fuhrer.” (One rule, one people, one leader)
3) It has rigor mortis as it can never adapt to new phenomena; it only celebrates the past. It is so fixated on the past it is like an Egyptian pyramid filled with a monarch’s most fancied objects so he may enjoy his past pleasures in the coming land of death.
The law is dead because it bears no resemblance to the law as we always believed it should be. We always believed in equal protection of the law: If the law says that axe murderers must go to jail, then we put axe murderers in jail, but we don’t incarcerate non axe murderers.
But in Trump world, pain and punishment are dispensed based on who’s in, who is out, and sadistic whim.
If you are on Trump’s team you will be unscathed even if you attacked a police officer in an effort to stop the peaceful transfer of power. If you are on the other dude’s team, we’ll chop your nuts off. We’ll pretend that Anthony Fauci is a creepy Stalinoid mad Scientist and that Liz Cheney is an Amazonian Monster who puts Republican Shlongs in Hot Dog Rolls. (Republican shlongs are smaller than Democratic schlongs so they can fit in hot dog rolls.)
Most of All, in the Trumpian system of illegitimate law, punishment won’t have any relationship to actual guilt or innocence. Trying to determine what really happened is often boring, tedious and fact-intensive. We Trumpers like the splashy, scandal-ridden side of the law. The side of the law that gives people ulcers if it doesn’t make them do a bottle of reds or jump into the East River.
If Trump is not thrown out of office, and if his pardoned pigs are allowed to roam free, they will become the nucleus of Trump’s private fascist army, something akin to those extremists who carried out Hitler’s wishes before the enabling act had been passed, something akin to the Freicorp, a shadow army which reveled in the Teutonic terror that Weimar wouldn’t condone.
If Trump is not thrown out of office, you will have to admit that the most morbid post-modernist philosophy is right on the money: Something is deemed true for one reason and one reason only: The Boss Man says its true.
If Trump is not thrown out of office, we will learn, once and for all, that this nation is not a shining city on a hill, it is a glaring metropolis in a valley, and this river valley is infested with huge mosquitos infecting everyone with capitalistic greed, envy and hate, and in this hate-filled hot house the quest for truth is derailed with prejudice, paranoia, perjured testimony and hysterical claims about sex perverts drinking the blood of little children.
Do you remember when music swayed civic life and the world almost danced ?
Well, I see we’re fully embracing the Abbie Hoffman school of thought with a touch of poetic frustration and political theater. Though I can’t help but wonder if Steal this book was less about starting a revolution and more about mastering the fine art of sarcasm in the face of an absurd system.
As for your laundry list of radical, rat-infused tactics... I can’t say I’m on board with breaking out the acid-laced soup or unleashing vermin. I’m more of the “make people aware, make them care, and then vote like you’re on a mission from actual reason” school of rebellion. Sure, I get the frustration, it’s like trying to navigate a maze while the walls keep changing—but there’s a part of me that wonders if this kind of chaos is just what he thrives on. I still advocate for storming the palace ala French Revolution 😆.
Maybe the real plan is simpler: hit ‘em where it hurts, the thing they don’t expect—coherence, consistency, and the crushing weight of actually organizing for change and holding up a mirror and yelling it from the mountain tops. Similar tactic the Bishop used to plead for mercy at the prayer service. Making Trump and his gang of gypsies tramps and thieves visibly uncomfortable. Maybe the revolution is less about rants n rats, more about resilience. Or, you know, we could just bring back the old gay militant activists groups like act up, gay liberation front, or gay activists alliance. If this tactic proves useless; let us forget the Weather Girls approach bring out the Weathermen the violent offshoot of students for a democratic society. I think they were out of their minds militants but they got their point across kinda of like the radical fairies 🤣 remember them....just shadow the fools around till they tire of us n leave...have to run I'm late to meet Melania n Donnie for lunch toodles....lmao...