They did the MRI, folks, a tremendous MRI, probably the best anyone’s ever seen. The doctors came in, they said, “Sir, we’ve never seen anything like it.” They were amazed, actually, one of them had tears in his eyes, beautiful tears, because it was so perfect. Perfect symmetry, perfect everything. They said, “Sir, your MRI, it’s magnificent, like looking at the Mona Lisa if the Mona Lisa had a brain.”
You know, they said, “Mr. President, we’ve done millions of these things, millions!, and none of them looked like this. The lines, the colors, the waves, whatever they are, all perfect.” And I said, “Of course they are. I’ve got the best brain, the most active brain, people tell me this all the time.”
They told me my brain was working at levels nobody’s ever seen before, better than Einstein, better than the scientists, better than the people doing the MRIs! They said the machine had to recalibrate, because it couldn’t handle how perfect the image was. “Sir,” they said, “it’s off the charts. The magnets can’t believe it.”
And I’ll tell you, a lot of people are talking about it, the most perfect MRI in history. The fake news won’t report it, of course, but everybody knows. Sean Barbabella, great doctor, tremendous doctor, he said, “Sir, this MRI belongs in the Smithsonian.”
They said, “Mr. President, it looks so good, we thought it was AI-generated.” I said, “No, it’s just pure Trump.” Natural talent. Born with it. Nobody’s ever had a brain that photographs this beautifully.
And by the way, people are saying, “Sir, you should do a third term, you’re in incredible shape.” And I might. The Constitution, we’re looking into it, folks. Because when you’ve got a brain that perfect, it’s almost criminal not to keep using it for the country.
So yes, I had the MRI. The best MRI. Maybe in the history of MRIs. And if Biden or Obama ever tried to get one, wouldn’t even register, folks. Blank screen. Nothing there. But mine? Mine looked like fireworks on the Fourth of July, beautiful, red, white, and blue.
Author’s Note:
There’s a tragic comedy in watching a man so consumed by his own mythology that he turns a medical scan into a campaign ad. In Trump’s world, even an MRI becomes a monument, not to medicine or science, but to self. What should be a quiet moment of vulnerability is transformed into another episode of The Apprentice: Autocracy Edition, where the patient is the messiah and the magnet is just lucky to be near him.
The joke, of course, writes itself, but the sickness it reveals is no longer funny. It’s the pathology of a culture that confuses attention for worth, noise for power, and delusion for destiny.
-Michael JochumMichael Jochum is a writer and musician reflecting on art, politics, and the human condition.
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