A personal favorite among the things that won’t be missed: Donald Trump Jr.’s redneck cosplay. As a rural Alabama native who grew up in a family full of hunters, it’s sometimes entertaining to watch Junior—a New York City–native, Ivy-educated, Buckley School grad who probably spent many high school weekends doing coke in the bathroom of Dorians—suit up like a Duck Dynasty extra and awkwardly pantomime those things that he thinks red-state Trumpists do (bless his heart). Only the unfettered racism comes naturally to him. It’s unnerving to watch him wave around such a vast assortment of absurdly souped-up guns, each one more accessorized with far-right stickers and gratuitous vanity mods than the last. As a rule, you never want a guy with unresolved anger issues to have easy access to high-powered firearms, let alone a collection that he probably has to transport with a forklift.
Eric Trump seems a little more put together, or at the very least, I’ve never seen him look like he was on the verge of bursting into tears, which is a semi-regular feature of Junior’s appearances. Neither of them was supposed to be involved in their dad’s campaign, but the entire Trump family interprets “conflict of interest” as an ethical conflict that may be “of interest” in the participatory sense. Eric’s contributions to the Trump legacy mostly include guaranteeing his wife a $180,000 salary via marriage and funneling money from a kid’s cancer charity into his business—and admittedly, stealing money from children with cancer is so cartoonishly villainous it wouldn’t be plausible in a Marvel movie. My most controversial Trump-related opinion is that Eric is not actually The Dumbest One, but the competition is so heavy for the title that it’s sometimes hard to tell.
Which brings us to Ivanka, who once got into an argument at a dinner party about the difference between liberal and libertarian, which she maintained were the same thing, and when the person she was arguing with suggested she Google it, she replied that she’d “take it under advisement.” Now she is in the position of having to take her own “advisement” and “find something new,” as she recently counseled millions of newly unemployed Americans (presumably because “Let them eat coding” was too awkward a construction).
