- The Washington Times
Monday, November 7, 2022


Donald Trump is back. And nobody learned a thing.

With two words this weekend, he set the political landscape on fire. Again.

Ron DeSanctimonious,” Mr. Trump bellowed, referring to the governor of Florida, a Republican. Three days before an election.

“How dare he!” they shrieked.

Mr. Trump was picking up roughly where he left off when he receded from politics two years ago: absorbed in the latest polling numbers. And ruminating aloud in front of a massive, raucous crowd of supporters while wearing a giant red trucker hat that said, “MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN.”

Trump at 71,” he read from the big screen. “Ron DeSanctimonious at 10 percent. Mike Pence at seven — oh, Mike’s doing better than I thought.” 

Entertaining. Shameless. Savage.

And just like Mr. Trump, Mr. Trump’s Republican detractors picked up right where they left off.

The childishness! So petty! He is going to wreck the election!

Time again to wheel out the fainting couches. Call in the doctors with their little bags full of smelling salts and vials of morphine. 

All the biological males in Republican Party who identify as pearl-clutching women in victorian dresses with high Elizabethan collars are fainting again at the mere sight of Donald Trump — back in their midst.

“This is not helpful before an election!” they cry.

Once again, it’s Don from Queens. Here to fix all the problems these very same Republicans were afraid to even talk about before Mr. Trump came along. It is almost like he drives a septic tank truck or runs a port-a-potty company. And he just showed up at their fancy garden party wearing pants he borrowed from Rodney Dangerfield.

Don’s Johns. From Queens.

All the establishment GOP “ladies” gasp. Their eyes roll back into their heads. And they faint, followed by a lacy handkerchief fluttering down beside them.

“Nothing like trashing a Republican governor 4 days before Election Day when his name is on the ballot. #team,” squeals one scandalized Republican over Twitter.

Oh, these people are so dramatic. So sensitive. Always such screaming weenies.

It was Saturday night that Mr. Trump called the Florida governor “Ron DeSanctimonious.” By Sunday, Mr. Trump was back to calling him “Ron DeSantis” and once again urging his supporters in Florida to reelect the guy.

Everybody can un-bunch their panties. Loosen their corsets a button or two. Have a drink. Relax.

This is the fight we have all been waiting for between Mr. Trump and his most obvious heir apparent, who would not be governor of the most politically important state in the country except for Mr. Trump. Mr. DeSantis is proof that no matter what they do to destroy Mr. Trump, he will be replaced by a thousand clones.

Before this is all over, there will be an epic battle scene involving these two with light sabers in which Don from Queens looks down at Ron DeSanctimonious and says: “Ron. I am your father.”


Anyway, as nicknames go, “Ron DeSanctimonious” really is not all that mean. It is rather elegant. And unlike all of Mr. Trump’s other nicknames, this one contains at least a morsel of respect.

There is nothing remotely redeeming about “Crooked Hillary,” “Lyin’ Ted,” or “Low Energy Jeb!” Each of those is mercilessly devastating. And undeniably true.

But “sanctimonious” suggests at least some level of sanctity — if not altogether deserved. It sounds like a nickname Mr. Trump might have for one of his sons, whom he loves.

Seriously, if Donald Trump — author of the second-best book ever written — found himself running for office against Jesus Christ — author of another popular book — he would probably come up with a very similar line of attack.

“I mean, this guy — he won’t shut up about loving his neighbors!” Mr. Trump would say. “And those sandals! What man wears sandals? But he’s right about the tax collectors!”

So, everybody calm down. This roller coaster is still clicking slowly upwards. It’s gonna be a wild one.

At least this time, Mr. Trump faces a worthy opponent.

• Charles Hurt is opinion editor at The Washington Times.

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