Donald J. Trump. If he were Hispanic, I suppose the “J” could stand for “Jesus.”

But he isn’t; and it doesn’t. It stands for “John” . . . and not the biblical disciple. Yet we have all seen THE PICTURE: the AI-created image of Trump in flowing robes and a full head of blond hair, looking for all the world like a supernatural being, laying hands on a man to heal him.

I won’t comment on the blasphemous nature of the picture, or on his disgustingly disrespectful separate message to the Pope; we’ve seen and heard enough of that. But I absolutely must share the incredulity I felt when I read that, in finally yielding to the public backlash and deleting the original post, Trump tried to offer this lame explanation:

“I thought it was me as a doctor and had to do with Red Cross. It’s supposed to be me as a doctor making people better. And I do make people better.”

Right. With haloes of light, and images of soldiers ascending into Heaven, we were supposed to think he was a medic. But where was his white coat, his stethoscope, or any glimpse of a Red Cross symbol?

And as for Trump ever having made people better . . . well, draw your own conclusions.

I am grateful, though, that at least he didn’t close with his usual “Thank you for your attention to this matter.” Because he lost my attention decades ago.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/14/26