guessing that your first question about this timely
Trump satire is will it make a good birthday, hostess or
thank-you gift for that hard-to-buy-for liberal in your
short answer is yes, in a pinch. Both author Michael Ian
Black and illustrator Marc Rosenthal offer flashes of
fun in this satirical picture book for adults, and the
packaging is top-notch. The cover is at once a skillful
evocation of midcentury classics like "Rudolph the
Red-Nosed Reindeer" and a hilarious swat at The
Donald, depicted here as a swollen orange lima bean of a
man, posing proudly within the gaudiest of gilt frames.
then thereís Blackís pitch-perfect dedication:
"For the haters and losers." Iím thinking
even Trump would smile at that one.
itís mostly downhill from there, as Black delivers an
ode, in rhymed couplets, to a man with all the
well-known flaws and foibles:
beasty is called an American Trump.
skin is bright orange, its figure is plump;
fur so complex, you might get enveloped.
hands are, sadly, underdeveloped."
Black went for a hand joke on page 3, and not long after
that heís telling us that the Trumpís "diet is
cash, its friends all go-getters. Its poop spells out
ĎTrumpí in ten-foot-high letters!" Black, an
actor/comedian and author of a best-selling collection
of essays, "My Custom Van: And 50 Other
Mind-Blowing Essays that Will Blow Your Mind All Over
Your Face," gets in some great lines: the
above-mentioned "fur so complex, you might get
enveloped," as well as "íI KNEW this would
happen!í it says aplenty. Its hindsight is clocked at
twenty and twenty."
we get quite a few lazy rhymes and easy jokes from a guy
who, at his best, is way better than that. The book is
scheduled to be published July 5, in time for the
Republican National Convention, and Black told The
Washington Post he wrote the first draft in a few hours,
the second in a weekend. It shows. Black also said that
while good childrenís books have messages, his does
not. Iíd say it actually does have a message ó just
not a terribly enlightening or useful one.
an illustrator for the New Yorker, creates a delightful
Trump beast with little more than the hair, the
signature posture and the pursed lips. The restrained
Seussian color scheme adds to the charm. But, again,
some of the spreads are thin ó do we really need to
see the Trump cross the finish line and declare himself
No. 1 in a field of 1? Was there maybe a better award
for our antihero to swipe than the trophy for "1st