I'll Take Your Recognition Now

Photo by Ofspace LLC on Unsplash

Trump’s recent acquisition of the Nobel Prize reminds me of the time I came upon this mysterious room in the basement of an esteemed American hospital. The door had been left ajar and I peered in.

(Duh.)

It was basically a mausoleum for old plaques pried off walls and entryways. The markers that had previously announced honor — and probably hung with some fanfare— were now stacked in piles of ephemera. Those awards, which had included naming rights for certain spaces, were basically nothing more than brass reminders of the temporary nature of, you know, everything.

Which means, Donnie, that the ego-feeding, masturbatory nature of the empty recognition that you’re demanding is beyond laughable. If earned recognition for medical discoveries and bequests for new wings end up huddled together below the lobby level, imagine where yours will go.

ps. I’d like to organize a trophy drive for our needy president with the hopes that just maybe it will be enough to satisfy him. My old friend has offered up her Ms. Junior Pine Acres 1967. Anybody else?