Eloquence is one of those quiet, subtle traits that is often most apparent in its absence. When respected people speak with an artful cadence, a charming candor, or with a prescient succinctness, we don't notice any more than we notice the sky being blue. A particularly brilliant blue, sure, we may take a minute to appreciate that, but typically there's an innate, minimal expectation with regards to blueness, as far as the sky is concerned.
It would follow, then, that a complete lack of poise and wit from a person of purportedly immense importance and qualification should stick out worse than a crab robbing a bank. "I knew something was wrong when my next customer was a crab," the cashier would tell officials. "I thought to myself, 'this is incorrect.'"
Lately though, it seems we live in a world where crustaceans of all sort routinely pillage our financial institutions, in broad daylight, with nary a glance from the folk in line making their deposits. Doesn't anybody see this?
Rémy Sohier's Trump's Talk gave me a good laugh and a sense of relief that yes, people do see the crab. People have noticed that the sky is not only un-blue, but totally absent. Maybe it's the goofy noises, or the 10,000 hours in MS Paint artwork, but this thing helped me relieve more frustration over Trump's rhetoric than any thinkpiece has. Not to condemn thoughtful analysis, of course, but it turns out I needed a break from thoughtful, however brief.
Trump is going to be what the law considers President tomorrow, and rest assured that whatever semblance of a speech he gives will be an embarrassing, inflammatory, unprecedented feat heretofore impalpable by even the most rigorous of bullshit theorists. Trump's Talk won't make it any better, and it doesn't offer any actionable analysis or criticism, but it knows. It sees it too.
You can play Trump's Talk on itch.io for free, or support the game on the page.