Donald Trump and his minions are losing their minds again because their malevolent, melon-hued messiah didnāt win the Nobel Peace Prize.
The convicted felon.
The adjudicated rapist.
The business fraud.
The pathologically lying insurrectionist who said his own vice president shouldāve been hanged is sulking around the White House and Walter Reed,
dragging his ego like a wounded animal, bewildered that the world wonāt hand him a trophy for peace.
His toadies are spinning in circles on cable news, faces red, spittle patriotic, confused how the man who worships vengeance, baptizes himself in hate, and eats empathy for breakfast didnāt get a medal for mercy.
You donāt get a Nobel Peace Prize when you mock a disabled reporter.
When you call women ādogs,ā āfat pigs,ā and āhorse-faces.ā
When you call entire nations āshithole countries.ā
When you say immigrants are āpoisoning the bloodā of America.
When you laugh about sexual assault and call it ālocker-room talk.ā
When you tell cops to rough people up and protesters to āget the hell beaten out of them.ā
When you promise to pay legal fees for violence committed in your name.
When you call journalists āthe enemy of the people.ā
When you tell your mob to āfight like hellā while they beat police officers with flagpoles and fire extinguishers.
You donāt get a Nobel Peace Prize for inciting a violent and deadly attack on your own Capitol
to install yourself in an office you lost.
You donāt get a Nobel Peace Prize when you use law enforcement as theater for fascism.
When you send the military into American cities and tell them to ānot be so nice.ā
When you brag about war crimes because cruelty makes you feel powerful.
You donāt get a Nobel Peace Prize for tearing children from their parents.
For taking babies from cribs and zip-tying them in U-Hauls.
For disappearing human beings in the night, masked and nameless, into black sites that reek of dictatorship.
You donāt get a Nobel Peace Prize when hate is your platform,
revenge is your gospel,
and violence is your love language.
You donāt get one because you donāt deserve one.
Because you never have.
And you never, ever fucking will.
Because for once, you couldnāt strong-arm your way into it.
You couldnāt hustle a country or a committee into giving you what you wanted.
You couldnāt buy it, bribe it, bully it, or steal it.
You canāt grift your way into greatness.
You canāt fake moral worth.
You canāt buy redemption on store credit.
The Nobel Peace Prize still means something in a world youāve tried to cheapen.
There are still standardsā
even if youāve never abided by a single one.
You can end a thousand wars on paper, but youāll still be remembered as the man who declared war on his own country.
Because what youāre doing
is burning peace to the ground.
The Nobel Peace Prize isnāt for tyrants or grifters.
It belongs to those who fight for freedom when freedom fights back.
Thatās why MarĆa Corina Machado won it.
For standing up to dictatorship.
For risking everything to bring democracy back to Venezuela.
For meeting brutality with courage instead of cruelty with cruelty.
Thatās who wins the Nobel Peace Prize.
The ones who build peace
while men like you
burn it down.