Trump trivia

Who put this tombstone in New York's Central Park? I don't know, but the joke is in lousy taste -- and it will only increase the paranoia of his followers.

Perhaps I shouldn't admit this, but I had considered running a poll on this blog, in which the readers would try to predict the three names of the forthcoming Trump patsy. If the RNC feels that there is only one way to solve the Trump problem, a patsy with three first names (such as "Billy Bob Charles" or "Jimmy Lee Jackson") will become necessary. Had the contest gone as planned, the reader who correctly predicted all three names would have won a stuffed animal -- and (in all likelihood) a visit from the FBI.

I decided not to write that post. For one thing, some jokes (not many, but some) are in such bad taste that they repulse even me. For another thing, figuring out how to incorporate one of those poll widgets into a blog post was too much like work.

Words, words, words: George Takei ascribes the following quote to Donald Trump:

"Every Trump sentence has words. Sometimes three words. Or two. And they're great sentences. Terrific sentences. That I can tell you. Believe me. They're great. With the best words. Terrific repeated words. Not very big words. Every Trump sentence has words."

He forgot to add: "I love words. We're gonna do very well with the words, believe me. We're gonna have the greatest words."

A matter of taste. I was a little stunned when I first saw this image of Melania Trump posing in the Donald's domicile:

Good Lord. That painting. It's Renoir's La Loge (a.k.a. At the Opera). Did Donald Trump actually purchase one of the French master's finest works?

Nope. Turns out that this work is still were it belongs, at The Courtauld Gallery in London. Trump bought a reproduction.

A man as wealthy as Trump claims to be should invest in original works of art. Reproductions are not considered classy. I certainly hope that this is not one of those made-in-China reproductions of a great European masterwork, because those canvases are produced under conditions depressingly close to slavery.

By the way, that frame is hideous.

In fact, Trump's idea of classy decor -- all gold and frills and filigrees and roco-kookiness -- is pretty damned dubious. He lives the way a poor person thinks a billionaire should live, even though actual billionaires usually favor austere minimalism. Like so:

That's a room in penthouse suite owned by a billionaire whose name goes unrevealed in this article.

Frankly, I don't like that look either. Sometimes, "good taste" can be too damned cold. Even Robot Girl from Ex Machina might find these rooms too inhuman. Trump's vulgar Versaille-in-the-sky may actually be easier to live in.

So how would you live if you had a billion? I think my home would look a lot like Bag End in the Peter Jackson movies. But with more books. And I'd love to own an original painting by Patrick Woodroffe. (This one.)

Good taste? Bad taste? I wouldn't give a damn. It'd be home.