Donald Trump is a funny man only in the sense of funny-peculiar, funny-weird. Funny ha-ha? Uh-uh. Never.
His lack of a sense of humor — nasty, hyperbolic insults don’t count — has long been cited as one of the signs of his interior void along with his vindictiveness, his lack of empathy, and his inability to name a favorite British Invasion band.
But just a few days ago, he posted something on Truth Social that bespoke sarcasm bordering on playful facetiousness.
Trump started characteristically enough, griping that the “failed District Attorney of Fulton County, Fani Willis, insisted on a $200,000 Bond from me.”
“I assume, therefore,” he continued, “that she thought I was a ‘flight’ risk — I’d fly far away, maybe to Russia, Russia, Russia, share a gold domed suite with Vladimir, never to be seen or heard from again.”
Short of “golden showers,” Trump’s bail-jumping joke managed to echo everything from his denied political and financial debts to Vladimir Putin to his overt, unapologetic defenses of the Russian dictator.
He wasn’t done.