Mungo the Labrador Meets Donald Trump

Mungo the Labrador Meets Donald Trump

What is going on with Donald Trump? I mean, who is this bloke? Is he actually a real human being? Or is he some kind of bogus-bogan-2-dimensional-automated-Pixar-TV-screen-computerised-hybred-pretend-dude pumping out redneck drivel in a clever satire of conservative American politics? Until recently, he was just another vague media name competing for brain-space PINs and passwords. Now he has become something else, and I want to know what and why.

Why is he now in my face at every turn? Streaming live on whatever feed? Why is he on the news here in Australia every night? His gormless bombast and brouhaha is not in the public interest, well, not in my public interest anyway. There is no possible justification for his misshapen peruke and oddly hued noggin to be on my telly every night, on every channel.

Whoever’s making editorial decisions about what gets air time, please, please; I beg of you, spare us all exposure to this obscenity known as Trump and the travelling circus he generates. Watching him is like watching a car crash; the carnage is awful to see, but you just can’t seem to avert your gaze.

There’s this kid, Lloyd, in my Yr. 9 class, and today we were treated to Lloyd’s brilliant, spontaneous and raw Trump parody. Lloyd can quote Trump accurately, complete with the arrogant intonation and nuanced superiority. The kid’s performance is slick, an uncannily good caricature which captures the essence of Trump the Chump. Even the New York accent was spot on. There were gags about the Great Wall of Mexico, a female journalist and her menstrual event and the apparently prodigious dimensions of his manhood. Lloyd’s short routine had us all in stitches and carried poignancy and insight. It unwittingly cut through the hype and laid bare the inanity of the man and the absurdity of the institutions can foist him upon us. I was especially appreciative of this masterful improv because it gave me reason to see both Lloyd and Donald in a new light.

Lloyd, whose nickname is “Mungo” (think about it), is very low functioning. He is euphemistically referred to in Teacherland as “slow”. Lloyd is an over-weight, overfed, over-indulged nong. A “protected species” chronic case of unfettered impulse control, a slack jaw and a propensity to almost constantly, shall we say, “adjust” himself. His mouth is perpetually in gear while his cortex is idling in neutral. All the unfortunate accoutrements of male adolescence afflict Lloyd: acne, awkwardness, disproportion. He is of the ilk who considers negative attention better than no attention at all. A cerebral midget, one might say. He possesses the attention span of a gnat, about 30 seconds, and that’s before recess; it’s shorter in the afternoon. Lloyd is effectively illiterate, and constitutes the “mixed” part of a mixed-ability classroom. I liken him to a Labrador puppy, loveable in small doses, lumbering around, incessantly seeking attention and approval. We all generously guffawed uproariously at the hilarity of his Trump routine, probably the only positive reinforcement he will receive in a week of school. Lloyd, like a Labrador puppy, is likeable but hard to teach, so if the opportunity arises to do so, one must pounce.

The entire class was focused on Lloyd and, being the flexible and dynamic educator that I am, I abandoned my carefully planned lesson and seized the chance to bring some meaning to the new topic Lloyd brought to the table. What ensued went something like this (try to imagine Lloyd’s speech, a thick lazy Aussie drawl, lost between a grunt and a snigger).

Me: Really funny and entertaining Lloyd, you are quite the mimic. Can you tell us who Donald Trump is?
Lloyd: Yep, the President.
Me: Barack Obama is the President…
Lloyd: No, he’s the old one, the black one. Donald Trump is the new one, the white one. He’s got a comb-over and an orange tan. (Grunts and a sniggers)
Me: And of which country is he the President?
Lloyd: ‘Merica and the Freeworld. (Grunt)
Me: What about Australia?
Lloyd: Dunno sir. (snigger)
Me: You heard of Malcolm Turnbull?
Lloyd: Nuh. Is he our President?
Me: No, Prime Minister.
Lloyd: What about that ranga chick Gloria Jillard? Isn’t she the president? (Grunt grunt)
Me: She was the Prime Minister several years ago
Lloyd: So who is our President? I want Donald Trump, he’s funny. (Snigger snigger).

And so it went.

But I am begging, for the future of this planet and all the Lloyds and labradors that inhabit it, please stop putting Trump on my TV. By doing so, we as a species, only serve to encourage both Lloyd and Donald to further embarrass themselves. They are idiots, deemed so by the collective genius of their respective audiences. Right?

Maybe not. Here’s a scary thought: what if Lloyd and Donald are actually the geniuses and we as their audiences are the idiots?

Cover via TV Guide

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