How am I even supposed to write about this guy? I’m serious. I legitimately don’t know how to approach this cartoonish psychopath with anything close to pensive objectivity, analytical prowess or even one iota of seriousness. By hiring Sheriff David Clarke to serve in the Department of Homeland Security, the Trump administration should now be able to convince anyone they’ve dedicated themselves to one brand above all else: the Laughably Sinister.
This is the sort of person who should only exist on scraps of paper in screenwriters’ trashcans. He’s that totally ridiculous. So let’s just get the insults out of the way first.
There are villains in ‘70s James Bond movies I’d find it easier to believe literally exist than this guy. He makes Cesar Romero’s portrayal of The Joker look like an unbelievably nuanced depiction of evil in comparison. If Tommy Wiseau directed a movie about crooked cops, even he would have the foresight not to develop a character this outlandish. To put it mildly, I have watched Mystery Science Theater 3000 episodes with more developed, believable antagonists than this unfortunately actual person.
For that matter, I think it may even be fair to assume Sheriff David Clarke is definitive proof of God’s existence—contingent upon the fact this God must really hate us all. There comes a point where absurdity is pushed so far that the irony must be intentional, a point where even Camus would admit life is a joke too perfectly told for there not to be some Supreme Comedian behind the scenes, a point where it becomes logically necessary to believe we are part of some Cosmic Court Jester’s Meme Kingdom. Just look at this picture and tweet and tell me Sheriff Clarke isn’t that exact point:
Or this one:
Or this one:
I'm sorry but someone this crushingly implausible requires a designer. Checkmate, atheists.
As Clarke takes his new position as assistant secretary in the DHS, he's embroiled in multiple lawsuits. Nothing too much to report there unless you're the sort of leftist snowflake who thinks the following are bad things: a) harassing and ensuring the police greet and detain a fellow Wisconsinite at a Dallas airport after he ribbed you for wearing Cowboys gear instead of Packers paraphernalia while on your flight, b) willfully dehydrating a mentally ill prisoner, c) laughing at an inmate who says she's going into labor and then discovering her newborn died due to your neglect.
But hey, maybe this is just a sign it's time for a career change. After all, we've all dehydrated people and let infants die so why don't we just focus on the planks in our eyes before pointing out the speck in his? I'm sure he'll handle his new job far more professionally. After all, the guy did write his master's thesis on Homeland Security. Well, at least most of it. He plagiarized the rest but just because you and I would get expelled if we didn't properly attribute our sources and use quotation marks when necessary doesn't mean he should suffer any consequences for the same things. And if you don't like the sound of that, why don't you say it to The People's Sheriff's face?
Yes, a man of the people. He's captured the heart of Milwaukee County so well that it's hard to imagine what the whopping 31% of residents who approve of him—or the 65% who think he has a negative impact on the county's image—will do once he makes his way to Washington. All good things must come to an end. On the bright side, maybe he'll be able to tell DHS Director John Kelly how to fight homegrown terrorists once he moves into his new office.
But I digress. We still haven't talked about the main reason why Sheriff David Clarke is undeniable proof Loki, Norse god of mischief, is the true Lord of our universe. O ye of little faith, seek and ye shall find! Behold, THE PINS:
So there you have it. There may be other members of the Trump brigade as absurd as Sheriff Clarke but surely there is no one more absurd. This guy should be running a Rex Kwon Do, not counterterrorism operations. But nevertheless, here we are, as painful as that may be. Maybe we really are in some foul-humored, Cartesian demon’s dream. At this point, that’d almost be comforting.