Invisible Jets, Invisible People, Invisible Truth

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Our good friend Jerry over at Grumpy’s Grumblings is out with another post. He offers us a satirical scenario of the disgraced former president, which, in any other time would be considered absurd. Not anymore. I’ve included a link at the end to continue reading. Thanks, as always Jerry!

“Look, up in the sky.”

“It’s a bird.”

“It’s a plane.”

“It’s Superman.”

“No, it’s the Chinese flag … isn’t it?”

“How is it doing that?”

“Only I could make that happen,” a portly man in a tattered black Brioni suit and stained red power tie boldly proclaims as he ambles awkwardly-but-confidently toward the small crowd of gawking onlookers.

“How did you make it happen, sir,” a wide-eyed, freckle-faced pre-adolescent boy asks the perceptibly proud braggart.

“Where’s the pilot? Is he invisible too?”

“When I speak, people listen,” the orange-haired man replies, gazing admiringly at the five-star red flag appearing perfectly motionless and seemingly suspended by nothing, some twenty feet above the runway.

“What did you say that caused that Chinese flag to fly through the skies and land here?” a bearded, older airport patron asks.

“And how is it staying up there?” Freckles interjects.

“When I was in charge, wonderful, beautiful, magical things happened. When I was in charge, we made invisible fighter jets. They were invisible; that means people couldn’t see them,” he adds, addressing the boy. “It’s the most beautiful thing, isn’t it—an invisible jet?” the obese man in the tattered black suit asks no one in particular.

“How can it be beautiful if we can’t see it?” Freckles’ mother asks, eyes furrowed.

For a few menacing seconds, Orange Hair fixes his gaze on Freckles’ mother before refocusing his eyes on the Communist Chinese flag. “It’s beautiful because I said it is.”

“Where’s the pilot? Is he invisible too?” the bearded old man asks.

“Yes. That’s part of the beautiful magic that I made happen.”

“Can you make me invisible?” Freckles asks, wide-eyed again.

Ignoring Freckles, Orange Hair resumes his soliloquy: “I told them to paint Chinese flags on our invisible F-35s so that our pilots could bomb the hell out of the Russians invading Ukraine and then the Russians would think it was the Chinks, and then the two commie countries would fight each other, and we could just sit back and watch. My idea. No one else could have thought of such a great plan. A beautiful plan. My plan.”

Lowering his volume—barely audible now—Orange Hair resumes, “If only it had worked like I planned. I’d have been freed from Vlad’s hold on me without all…” he looks around at the devastation. “All this.”

To continue reading, please click here: Grumpy’s Grumblings


  1. I see Jerry doesn’t use WP so there’s no “Like” button … yet I know he visits your blog regularly, Jeff, so …

    Jerry … Superb post! And so relevant to the times. It will be a joyous day when that portly man in a tattered black Brioni suit and stained red power tie becomes nothing more than an unpleasant memory.

    Liked by 1 person

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