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‘Ignoring it All’: Trump Parties it Up at Mar-a-Lago with Elon Musk as Fires Rage Across the Carolinas, Forcing Evacuations

The man is disgusting.

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Back in 2005, I was certain that I’d never write politics again. It was the year of Hurricane Katrina, and the straw that broke the camel’s back for me was watching George W. Bush sitting on some country musician’s back porch eating chocolate cake and strumming a guitar while bodies floated through the streets of New Orleans.

I thought that man was going to give me an ulcer. It turns out my insides are made of sturdier stuff than that, however. Because here I am today, telling you all about Donald Trump doing basically the same exact thing.

Scarcely a month after the Palisades and Eaton fires were finally declared fully contained in California, the same disaster has broken out in the Carolinas, with more than 175 wildfires raging across the two states. It’s prompted a state of emergency and full-scale evacuations in both.

In fact, as South Carolina Governor Henry McMaster was issuing his state’s emergency declaration on Sunday and evacuations began in Myrtle Beach and the Blue Ridge Mountains, Donald Trump was just a few hundred miles away at Mar-a-Lago. He was NOT there to hold a press conference about the natural disaster.

That’s not a birthday party or anything, I don’t think. That’s just Trump and his Space Nazi pal Elon Musk sashaying down a catwalk at some kind of shindig at Mar-a-Lago that you paid the security bill for.

Trump, wearing a standard khaki MAGA hat and what looks like a just-off-the-course golfing ensemble, held more hats in his hand, preparing to toss them out into the crowd like so many Puerto Rican rolls of paper towels. Musk had his human shield son Lil’ X on his shoulders as the two danced through the crowd to cheers and whistles.

Responses were pretty swift.

Comments like that poured in from across the internet, because that was of course not the only video of whatever lavish party they were holding at the Southern White House:

Is he oblivious? I think that goes without saying. But even if that speaks to the fact that Trump isn’t personally following the news, it also says one of three other things: His personal presidential aide apparatus ALSO doesn’t watch the news, or they were too scared to bother him during the party to tell him to tone it down, or Trump didn’t care one way or the other about the disaster unfolding nearby.

Small get-together? Hardly. The Atlanta Black Star reports:

South Ocean Boulevard, the road to Trump’s estate, was shut down for hours to accommodate the flood of guests, disrupting local traffic, closing three drawbridges, and delaying boats from port amid heightened security during his fourth visit to Palm Beach since taking office in January. Temporary flight restrictions were also imposed over Palm Beach County throughout Trump’s visit.

In fact, don’t think for even a second that we won’t be tracking how much vacation Trump takes this term. He spent an average of 95 days a year of his first term on vacation, which isn’t as many days as other presidents have taken — Dubya spent an average of 128 days a year over the course of his two terms — but has cost more than any other president’s total time in office, without counting the four vacations Trump’s already taken this term since he was inaugurated in January.

Trump spent more taxpayer money golfing at his own resorts in his first four years than Dubya did clearing brush in Crawford in eight.

The Trump White House has not, as of this writing, yet addressed the disaster in the Carolinas yet. He has not even publicly acknowledged that it’s happening. Not even a statement from his press secretary.

I may not feel an ulcer coming on anymore, but I do feel sick to my stomach.

Andrew Simpson
meet the author

Andrew is a dark blue speck in deep red Central Washington, writing with the conviction of 18 years at the keyboard and too much politics to even stand. When not furiously stabbing the keys on breaking news stories, he writes poetry, prose, essays, haiku, lectures, stories for grief therapy, wedding ceremonies, detailed instructions on making doughnuts from canned biscuit dough (more sugar than cinnamon — duh), and equations to determine the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow. A girlfriend, a dog, two cats, and two birds round out the equation, and in his spare time, Drewbear likes to imagine what it must be like to have spare time.

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