There have been so many photo-ops of the President signing his two-page encyclicals. These “spontaneous” events always happen to feature every available cabinet member dutifully, adoringly looking on as cameras flash to record the toddler’s first words again and again—Donald J. Trump. These are the action shots of him governing. It’s obvious that he’s in love with his own name. He plasters it (and his face) on everything from water bottles to steaks (now defunct), Mexican ties and suits, a university (now closed), an airline (bankrupt), casinos (many bankrupt), to golf courses, hotels, apartment buildings and resorts.
He is a master of superficiality. He has cornered the market on super-wide markers that are easily camera-ready and visible from across the room. Remember, this is not a child’s 18 x 24 inch oak tag. It is a standard sheet of typing paper. I suspect that he has instructed his crackerjack staff to format each two-page pronouncement with 2/3 of the second page empty in which he can squeeze in his name. Always teeing up his ego, he looks around, makes sure he has everyone’s rapt attention, and starts the 6-12 second process affixing Donald J. Trump to his (Bannon’s) newest ruling. It is with exaggerated flourish and laser-concentration, still within his 30-second attention span, that he completes his job. The proud boy picks up his art work, turns it around and pans the room to show his latest creation—his 3 ½ inch signature that now has bled through the 100% cotton rag paper into the leather folder. Nice job, Donnie. This is greatness at work.