Donald Trump is Jesus

Donald Trump is Jesus. An eroticised embodiment of his followers' heterogeneous desires; cruel, violent, libidnal. They want to fight for him, fuck him, be fucked by him, kill and eat him. For the men this isn't gay. Jesus/Trump despite his erotic fascination for them, despite their desire to fuck and be fucked, isn't a sexual object, he's a projection, a stand-in. Imagining Jesus/Trump gagging on your hog or taking it deep in his ass, gripping your tool tight with his sphincter is functional. It's masturbation. And personally I've never met a person who treats their hand as a sexual object whatever they use it for when they're alone and horny.

Of course there are sexual images of Trump, all gleaming, oiled muscles and dangerous good looks. Because people have always sexualised the undesirable. Witness all the sweaty-palmed columnists of the 1980s and beyond and their unfathomable belief that Margaret Thatcher, the world's most prominent female to female transgender woman, apparently assembled (poorly) Frankenstein's monster-style from fragments of sharks, was so sexy that you'd sweat semen from just looking at a photo of her. Mary mother of Jesus and Mary Magdalene were the core of this imagined Thatcher. If she were still alive today, still in office, and still with the same sway she had back then, the volume of degenerate AI porn of the Iron Lady would be staggering. Perhaps such porn exists of Trump. Futa Trump, breasts larger than his head and an impossibly huge cock spaffing its far-flung benediction to his followers. Sub Trump, tied, ball-gagged, cigarette-burned, spanked with a paddle and drenched in cum. Piss Trump, urinating on his suppliants, who open their mouths and pose provocatively. This imagined porn, this blasphemous Shroedinger's filth would certainly be gay by conventional standards. But in Maga-world even this is beyond homosexuality. It's sacrament. The communion wafer is for insertion into your rectum and the chalice of wine is a generous metal cunt to be fucked. Moist and capacious it waits for your penis, hard and anxious for the Donald's sacred holes. 

Underneath it all is a carnal death drive. Trump's apostles long for destruction, beginning with their enemies and with a logic that only ends with themselves. As has often been observed those enemies include people of colour, LGBTQIA+ people, foreigners, women, leftists, liberals, and anyone who's ever called them a weird little pervert on X the everything app. Those weird little perverts know that Trump is dying. They're getting naked and oiling up their bodies ready to start glazing their paedophile in chief's memory and physical remains in a bukkake orgy to end all bukkake orgies once his rancid carcass lies in state. At present though, there's no obvious Saint Peter to carry forward Trump's diseased church when he drops. So when he does the weird little perverts could turn on each other and start their internicene bloodletting sooner than they expected. 

Whether a Peter emerges, or the empire dissolves into civil war and fracture, Trump, the prophet and Messiah of physical and spiritual corruption will remain a symbol for the many factions that will emerge in the wake of his demise. There is as yet no obvious shorthand symbol for Trump, no rudimentary fish, no crucifix. The swastika, sonnenrad, and totenkopf are already taken. Perhaps the gun or the dollar might work, but either one is as or more complex than the initials MAGA. Maybe then, given the toxic, patriarchal nature of Trump and his followers the natural symbol is a crudely drawn, spunking, cock and balls.