Portraying himself as a billionaire playboy in the 90s, Donald Trump wasn’t known much for being a churchgoer. People had been saying that man needed church for years. God would do him some good, they said. Church people say that about you. They say it about me. They just want to take a fiend to church — I mean friend! They wanna take a friend to church. That joke comes to you by way of a friend who had taken me to church many years ago. He had a bumper sticker on his car that read: Take a friend to church. I saw it and put white-out on the “r” in friend. There was a gap between the F and the I, but it was still a funny, fiendish thing to do.
Anyway, Trump found god with his friend and former Apprentice colleague Omarosa at the Great Faith Ministries in Detroit. There was a video going around at the time with those two dancing it up to gospel music as part of Trump’s outreach to the African American evangelical community. At the time this series was drawn, in September of 2016, I was not aware Omarosa had visited the church that day or I would have drawn her too. She would have been a fun character to cartoonize. Too bad she’s always missing. I drew another cartoon where she was gone because she would have blocked candidate Trump’s reflection.
Maybe Trump’s not a weekly churchgoer, but he does share many of the same habits. Like the teetotaling. Which is a word I never fully understood. Where did that word come from? I could imagine it was from someone being in a restaurant when everyone else was ordering beers and he was that one guy only having tea, totally tea, no whiskey in it or anything. That’s Trump. He’s a totally tea drinking kind of guy, a tea-totaler. But a non-alcoholic beer every once-in-awhile might be alright. There are a lot of great new varieties available. Trumpwieser comes to mind. It’s this hip new brand all the Republican base voters are drinking.
It’s a rough and tumble world out there, a competitive world, a highly stressed one where everyone is trying to gain an advantage. This is the insulated word of Manhattan we’re talking about. You can’t be disadvantaged by alcohol there, as Trump supposedly told his kids. Another disadvantage, in this sleepless town, is too much sleep. You gotta get on the ball — early bird, early bird, early bird! Go! Go! Go! Deal! Deal! Deal! Donald J. Trump is part of that billionaire class that the Wall Street Journal calls the Sleepless Elite.
They sleep between 3 and 4 hours a night and spend a lot of time alone because everyone else is lying in bed doing absolutely nothing productive. A third of their lives they’re wasting! What else is there to do but work, work, work? These billionaires are branching off to form their own genus of human. Eight hours of sleep? Ha! That’s sooooo Homo sapien — so last evolution. They’re already living on some other planet with two suns and a 5-hour night. Or maybe they’re living on the far side of the moon where it’s tidally locked and always day, except for the time when the moon is behind the Earth. Even if you did live on the near side, you’d always have light reflecting off the Earth bouncing back at you. How could you get any sleep unless you were Homo sapien, version: Alpha and didn’t need it? Beta versions stay back on Earth. That’s why billionaires go into space, and we don’t!