Donald Trump: The Art of the Address

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Credit Selman Design; photograph by Damon Winter/The New York Times       

 
FOURSCORE and seven years ago, our fathers — and also, our mothers. I love mothers, too, because we need our mothers — brought forth on this continent a huge nation, a great, amazing country dedicated to the proposition that we can beat any weak losers who are bad, bad guys and totally overrated, believe me.
 
Now, it just so happens we are in a horrible, stupid war. They’re killing us. Just killing us. I would sue for peace, because when I sue I never settle, but if it had been up to me we never would have been here to begin with. I would have negotiated, and I wouldn’t have risked the country over a few slaves, who some of them might be good people — I had some nice African-American ladies working for me, and they were very dependable ladies — but it’s dumb to risk the whole country for political correctness. It really is. The blacks love me, by the way.
 
Frederick Douglass has been to my house.
 
So, here we are in front of you beautiful people of Gettysburg, and you are a very good-looking group of people. You know, I went to business school near here so I know Pennsylvania, believe me. I love the people of Gettysburg, and I can tell you are embarrassed about what our country has become.
 
Do you see these Amish people buggying around with their very unattractive women in their sad outfits? Please, who would even date these women?
 
Those bearded fanatics haven’t even bothered to learn English, and they’re taking your cow-milking jobs. It’s sad. It’s sick. It really is. And I know you are angry. I’m angry, too, because I love this country and I can make it great again.
And here, they tell me, this is some great battlefield of the war, and by the way, I know everything about fields and this could be a terrific, world-class 27-hole golf resort: about 7,300 yards from the gold championship tees and a beautiful hotel, and not some cemetery for so-called heroes.
 
Heroes don’t get killed. Heroes win. Then they kill the families of the losers. It’s a beautiful, beautiful thing. Maybe a casino, too.
 
So, why dedicate? Why consecrate? Why hallow this ground? Only a very stupid person would consecrate it. What we need to do is rezone it.
 
“Agriculture”? Are you kidding me? This is a gold mine, and we’re sitting here on folding chairs looking at gravestones? It’s disgusting.
 
Unfortunately, the suckers died in vain, which never would have happened if matters were in my hands. My attractive, normal-size hands. Look at them … is there anything wrong with
these hands? You bet there isn’t.
 
And if someone next to you maybe disagrees — some sick, sad person — and I’m not saying what to do, but I’d certainly understand if some of my people who are looked down on by those people would seek out some of those people and decide that — who knows? — they should perish from the earth.

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