Old guy Trump a pure empiricist, maybe thinking finally my money can buy anything, even immortality may be cause, in a few years cybernetics, organ transplant may reach a stage where, and if I have to push the button well, with god being dead, folks, just proved it, I the biggest sham since time immemorial at the supposed end times, here I am against all odds, yes I was predicted, and I’ve got the biggest ol’ bunker against thermonuclear disaster, yes folks, my money will make me survive, as a matter of fact will drain the swamp all right you’ll see of the rubble who were crazy enuf to elect me, which proves the fallibility of the rubble, their low iq’s to which I cater to. The beast speaking many many languages, see, my popularity as film flam as one snake oil charmer suddenly, wham, my numbers go up just like that after a rousing TelePrompTer job.
Well now, I will buy all the gadgets and stuff and I will become the first machine man, reaching out to the heavens, an evil robot out of Reagan’s Star Wars,
My mind enplanted into the machine , in these super modern times where only the strongest survive.
In my new world order, no one with a portfolio of less than 50 to a hundred billion will survive, but in 8 years that will be chicken feed, I am aiming for a trillion folks.
It will be then, and not then, that all the others who survive the nukes, will be enslaved, pretty much functioning like worker ants, while we, the gods, installed in our own perfect replica of mount Olympus, will be elevated to the sky bolts of the godly heavens, resurrected from the ashes, living proof of the Dawn of The Gods. Yes folks, that IS the master plan, might as well you fall in line with what has been foretold.