Oh, Yaaaah!, Oh, Yaaaah! People have to say it now, no matter how uncomfortable. Broadcasters, and commentators, and even other politicians, and diplomats. How do you discuss it without invoking it? Are there apt euphemisms? Would a reference to certain countries being excremental, cloacal, dens of defecation, septic tanks, or some other linguistic workaround, adequately convey the intent, the vulgarity, the inspiration of the intrinsic racism running in the background. If you call a country a shithole, are you not, by extension, referring to their people as turds? Nope, to, get the full effect, ya gotta say it.
Shithole (is it properly two words or one word; does it matter). Consulting most dictionaries doesn’t help. They somehow have felt it unnecessary for vocabular inclusion, worthy of a place in the pages containing shitaki mushrooms and Shiite. If words had lexical ambitions, shithole would be happy and proud that somehow it would be launched from the exceedingly limited vocabulary of Donald Trump to such popularity that it might be ”word of the year.”
Shithole, shithole, shithole. It needs to be said. It needs to be chanted. It needs to be shouted. It needs to become the anthem of Trumpism. We need to greet him in all public contexts with the resounding chorus of this word he has thrust into public discourse, and has smeared this sorry nation with his feculence. Let us greet him in all occasions, in all places, in all circumstances with “shithole, shithole, SHITHOLE.” Let it ring from sea to crappy sea. Let Trump hear it rolling back to him over the amber waves of diarrhea splattered grain, flowing over majestic mountains of dung. Let him be reminded that, from that sphinctered face, our once proud nation has become an international embarrassment and the laughing stock. Let it be, when he asked the visiting Prime Minister of Norway why more Norwegians do not immigrate to America, that she might honestly answer aloud: “Why would any self-respecting Norwegian want to immigrate to this SHITHOLE?”