'Fox & Friends': Caged Kids Aren't Even From Idaho, So What's The Big Deal?
Donald Trump's morning routine as destroyer of the free world involves a briefing of important matters as discussed on "Fox & Friends." (His bedtime routine is even weirder.) The show's name sounds innocuously light and frothy, like some Saturday morning cartoon with a wisecracking, white-gloved fox and his woodland buddies. (You know, except for the nazi shit.) There's even the two guys, one gal dynamic from my childhood favorite "Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends."
But the only "amazing" thing about "Fox & Friends" is how truly evil it is. Take a gander at the below and I swear you can hear the march of jackboots in the background.
.@foxandfriends: "...these aren't our kids. Show them compassion, but it's not like he is doing this to the people… https://t.co/ISX4SyBDSe— Shannon Watts (@Shannon Watts) 1529672242.0
If for any number of good reasons you don't want to look at Brian Kilmeade, here's the text of his comments:
It wasn't President Trump's idea to have everyone from Central and South America to leave in June and walk up to the border. Somebody has to deal with this issue. It doesn't matter who the president is. If you don't like his policy, he's also open to your policy rather than just criticizing his. He's trying to send a message to the other countries. This is not how you do it. Because this is a nation that has rules and laws. We can't just let everybody in that wants to be here. Like it or not, these are not our kids. Show them compassion, but it's not like he's doing this to the people of Idaho or Texas. These are people from another country.
Kilmeade runs through most of the barely informed, fully opinionated talking points. This isn't Trump's fault. The blame lies on people choosing to seek asylum during the peak season. Look, if you show up at Disney World in June, you're in a hell of your own making, so don't complain when one of the Mickeys takes your kids from you. Trump has no choice but to enforce cruel laws no matter what he might personally believe because he is a slave to the rule of law.
Kilmeade promotes the narrative that Trump is eager to build consensus on immigration reform, which is believable if you don't pay attention to anything Trump actually says and does while he's saying and doing it.
On the upside, November is the off-season, so the lines shouldn't be too long for the Tea Cups wherever the migrant girls are being held. Trump's firm hand here will certainly "send a message" to other countries to stop being so awful that their residents flee them in desperation.
Then comes the necessary dehumanization in the event there is something resembling a human heart left inside the viewers of "Fox & Friends." It's like watching the climax of "How The Grinch Stole Christmas" backwards. You could call it "How FOX News Stole Your White Suburban Parents' Souls."
Kilmeade acknowledges something might not be all together swell about what the Trump administration is doing to migrant kids, so he stresses that it's not like they're actual kids or at least not American, fully naturalized -- though, native born is even better -- kids. America apparently would prefer building more museums about their collective mistakes than actually learning from them.
Then the crawling smear of slime literally went out and cuddled with puppies.
I mean... really? Anyway, if the majority of Republican voters who supported Trump's child separation policy as recently as this Monday start to experience the human emotions known as shame and guilt, they can always just blame Democrats.
"Phony Stories of Sadness and Grief" is also the title of my collection of short fiction. You can find it in the parking lot where your local Barnes & Noble once was. It looks like Trump tweeted this assemblage of sociopathic sentences around the same time "Fox & Friends" was telling his supporters not to care about human beings who don't resemble them. They make a good team.
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Stephen Robinson is a writer and social kibbitzer based in Portland, Oregon. He writes reviews for the A.V. Club and make believe for Cafe Nordo, an immersive theatre space in Seattle. He's also on the board of the Portland Playhouse theatre. His son describes him as a “play typer guy."