And it could never cost as much as the collective American emotional turmoil, either
One glorious day we will look to the south and see upon the horizon a monolith which stretches far into the sky. On that day no man, woman or child seeking to escape poverty and find a better life will be able to do so any longer. On that wonderful, momentous day Trump will be able to say:
“My name is Trump, president of presidents;
Look on my work, y’all rapists, and despair!”
Of course, there will be no way for our wonderful god and leader to be able to construct a wall higher than the emotional barrier between him and his third wife. However, we may look upon both as monuments to two very important rich-American ideals: the first a monument to the security of our borders from a nameless and vague threat, and the second a great monument to the emotional estrangement that men have from their wives when they don’t see women as human beings.
Truly, this will be a wonderful and great display of American greatness: opulence, waste of resources that could be used to feed the poor and — most importantly — the incessant need of Americans to make America, a nation built from and borne of immigrants, an identity exclusive to white people.
I await the day when I can buy a sandwich from a restaurant on the border wall while looking through the viewing window and laughing at everyone who does not have my very tasty sandwich made of fake meat and fake dreams.
Let us conclude this message with a prayer:
Give me the resolute nature,
With which I can block empathy,
And think spending $70 billion,
On a big-ass wall,
Is a good idea.”
This message was brought to you by American Aaron, soldier of the Great Trump Administration. Please report dissenters to the following email.
Written by: Aaron Levins — firstname.lastname@example.org
(This article is humor and/or satire, and its content is purely fictional. The story and the names of “sources” are fictionalized.)