And King Trump ascended to the seat of sovereignty, wielding his scepter microphone, and for all the world to hear, declared a crucifix-wearing Carrie Prejean the rightful Miss California USA. The pitchfork-wielding populace press, meanwhile, peppered the King and the doyenne of Cali with questions. Such as, uh, don't you see the hypocrisy in declaring yourself a role model to women, when ya lied about snapping semi-nude photos?
She did not -- or at least, we think she did not, because Trump kept cutting her off and recentering the attention on himself. Because really, this is about him. Though it was, at times, hard to see the daylight between them: they both appeared to be sporting sandy eyeshadow, heavy dustings of bronzer and blonde highlights.
But the real circus started when Trump declared Prejean a victim of anti-hottie prejudice. (And when he declared he'd "seen the pictures," and they're nothing to get too worked up over. What does Melania think of all this?!) If gorgeous, destined-to-be-a-Fox-News-anchor Carrie were some lumpy, dumpy schmoe, Trump argued, she'd be a nobody. But because she's smokin' hot, she's a target -- just like Miss Teen South Carolina and her stumblings in geography have been a YouTube smash hit for nigh on two years now. That phenomenon had nothing to with her terminology, The Iraq and Everywhere Like Such As, or her meaningless assertion that it's all about the maps. It went viral because she's insanely, crazy-hot. Says Trump. Who could be her grandfather.
Right.
Rather than reeling off my thoughts, I wanna know what you think. Would Carrie be in the crosshairs if she were a foot-faced librarian instead of a swimsuit model?
Uncommon Knowledge
Newsweek is committed to challenging conventional wisdom and finding connections in the search for common ground.
Newsweek is committed to challenging conventional wisdom and finding connections in the search for common ground.
