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Guest Column: Staten Island Disney Princess
Stop Being So Fast to Solely Blame Democrats For What's Happening to President Trump
NOTE: A friend from Staten Island recently approached me about writing a short column. She is well-known in Staten Island Republican Party circles. Here are her thoughts on Donald Trump’s latest legal troubles and why, depending on your political views, Republicans are partially responsible or partially culpable. Much closer to the Lady of the Dark, she’s decided to use the nom de plume: Staten Island Disney Princess. “It will keep them guessing,” she said, smiling.
They say Disney tales have dark origins. The Staten Island Disney Princess tells a Grimm tale of politics, power, and deceit…
In a small room, dimly lit, I addressed the few who had gathered. There was a simmering anger in the air.
“Don’t be hasty to put all the blame on the Democrats for the Trump situation,” I began, my voice steady. “It’s a mistake to believe they’re the sole players in this game. Republicans? They’re deep in it, too.”
There were murmurs of agreement. My registration as a Republican was a matter of public record, but it had now become a move of convenience, not allegiance.
“I’ve danced to my own tune for a long while,” I continued. “Truth be told, my frustrations with the Republicans started long ago.”
I paused, recalling familiar faces, remembering old grudges.
“The same tactics they employed against Trump, they used on Michael Grimm and several others.” The bitterness in my voice was palpable.
The room knew all too well of the local Staten Island Good Old Boy’s Club: men who pulled strings, whispered in corners, and thrived in the shadows.
“Remember Nicole? They speak about her in hushed tones behind closed doors. Some of their comments vile to the core.” Heads nodded.
“And they’ve got new targets. There are whispers in dark alleys about their new plans. They’re eyeing Staten Island once again. Their carving knives are out.”
I took a moment, collecting my thoughts. I remembered the thinly veiled threats, the challenge to my ambitions, the outright brazen activity smacking of the criminal.
“They went after me when I was just starting out. If anyone knew how they really operated, they’d be waiting with shackles.” I sighed, the weight of the battles past and those yet to come pressing down on me.
“And Luthmann. Remember him? They let him build a fortress of lies for them, and at the time, it was their perfect political plaything. They told him he was their ‘true friend.’ Once Castorina and Borelli were implicated, they scattered like the disloyal rats they are.”
“The good judge did him one better. Castorina lied under oath. But to become a black-robed scoundrel, Castorina had to be a scoundrel. Now I’m told he is a legal crook of the highest order. He takes $50,000 and $100,000 at a time, handing it to his lawyer buddies in Divorce Court, and gets a nice piece to wet his beak.”
“That was the deal. They are the machine, the swamp. Luthmann wasn’t one of them; he was expendable. Grimm, too, once the price was right. Even some who hold office now are on their radar.”
“The issue with Trump? It isn’t much different,” I continued, my voice a whisper now.
“He wasn’t one of them. A man who worked, truly worked, and that was his crime. They scorned him because he unveiled the underbelly of politics, exposing the rot on both sides. And for speaking the truth, he was silenced.”
I leaned in, eyes scanning the faces around me.
“The grapevine has it that Staten Island is once again on their radar. There are plans in motion. But I’ll be damned if I let them walk all over us.”
A conviction burned in me, and I was resolute. “They try anything, and they won’t know what hit them.”
I let that sink in. “If Trump gets back into the office,” I said, the thought already forming a plan in my mind, “I’ll push for Grimm’s pardons. Luthmann’s too. I’ll bring the battle right to the Capitol and the Oval if need be.”
A quiet fell over the room, broken only by the occasional shuffle of feet. Those around me knew of my determination. But only a select few knew the depth of my loyalty.
As the meeting drew to a close, I concluded with my own version of words that had always resonated with me,
“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers…and sisters;
For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother…
And she who stands beside me in this fight is forever my kin.”
The room dispersed, but the words lingered, echoing the sentiment of a united front against a common enemy. The swamp creatures were exposed, and their fat underbellies were laid bare for all to see.