Jesus loves you. Everybody else thinks you’re an *sshole Father Michael Exorcist II
William Shakespeare once famously penned, Revenge is a dish best served cold. But what The Bard didn’t say was that the meal wouldn’t taste like sh*t. Or as Tiny Bulcher said in Don’t Ask, Maybe you can make a nice meal out of revenge Dortmunder, but I’m a meat and potatoes man myself.
I*f there’s one thing I’ve learned in covering these misfit toys for you for the last nine years, it’s how they think. And I can tell you right now that on the day that Cohen flipped on Trump and began to testify, his entire life, and more importantly, his entire persona was gone forever.
Here’s an example. Last week MSNBC reporter Vaughan Hillyard was cruising the waiting line to get into the trial. He talked to a woman who said that she hoped that Trump was acquitted, and a man who said that he hoped Trump got prison. But both were in complete agreement on one point. They both f*cking hated Michael Cohen. News Flash! Everybody hates Michael Cohen, me included.
Michael Cohen is at heart a small, petty, cowardly vindictive man that craves recognition, adoration and respect. But being a small, vindictive, cowardly man, he is incapable of earning respect and admiration by his actions. And as the Monster said in Young Frankenstein, I decided that if I could not create love and affection, what I wanted most, I would create fear and loathing instead. I can think of no better description of Michael Cohen.
And it’s in Cohen’s psyche. Donald Trump was no mob boss or Godfather, but Cohen repeatedly testified that Trump ran the Trump Organization like a mob boss. He unwaveringly referred to him as Mr. Trump in any testimony or statements he made, and carefully explained how Trump used subliminal messages and non sequiturs to make his instructions clear without ever actually stating them outright.
And you know what? Cohen ate that sh*t up. Another small, petty man with a Messianic complex, Cohen knew that he could never be a mob lawyer either, but by tying himself to the Trump Organization, and Trump specifically, Cohen was able to con himself into thinking that he was working for a private equivalent to a mob operation. In being in close proximity to Trump, Cohen was finally in the inner circle of his own family.
And Cohen lapped that sh*t up lik. e a kitten with cream. He relished his role as Trump’s fixer, and loved comparing himself to the fictional character Ray Donovan. But as a longtime fan od Ray Donovan, I pointed out that when Donovan had a problem to fix, he didn’t pick up the phone and scream obscenities at a reporter of other irritant, he hopped into the car and dealt with it. Usually with a baseball bat. And on the stand, former Trump aide Hope Hicks quipped that Cohen was constantly fixing things that he had broken in the first place. Cohen was no Ray Donovan.
But he kept trying to keep the mob organization imagery going even when he flipped. In testimony both before congress as well as during Trump’s trial, Cohen painfully related Traitor Tot referring to him as a rat, the traditional mob nomenclature for a traitor to the family. Cohen tried to portray himself as a possible martyr, willing to sacrifice himself in order to balance the scales. What bullsh*t. As much as Trump used Cohen, Cohen used Trump just as much, for both financial and personal reputation gain. He basked in the persona of Trump’s power and authority.
But here’s why Michael Cohen will never be happy, or satisfied, even if Trump is convicted and sentenced to prison. It is a mental and emotional flaw in Cohen himself. Cohen is incapable of admitting his own culpability and personal responsibility for the events in his life.
Come on gang, Sing along with Murf now! How many times over the last six years have you heard Michael Cohen whine something like, This isn’t about revenge, it’s about accountability! I lost everything! I went to federal prison for doing Donald Trump’s dirty deeds. Why should Trump walk away Scot free? And there it is right there. Me, me, me, me, me, oh pity, pity, pity poor me! When Sammy The Bull Gravano flipped, he went into the Witness Protection Program. So did Jimmy The Weasel Frattiano. There is no Witness Protection Program for Michael Cohen. He’s out there alone on an island, one of the most hated men in America.
But even if Trump is convicted, and models an orange jumpsuit, it will never erase one simple fact from Cohen’s mind. He brought this on himself, nobody else. Nobody held a gun to his head. He was a barred attorney in New York, with a guest office in a reputable firm in midtown Manhattan. He owned taxi medallions worth millions of dollars in New York and Chicago. Cohen has repeatedly admitted under oath that he knew that what he was doing was wrong. If he had refused, and Trump fired him, which he did anyway, Cohen would have had no trouble finding legal work to do.
Cohen admitted it himself under oath. He was mesmerized by Trump and his persona. And Cohen f*ckied up, and he paid the price for his own actions. And even if Trump models an orange jumpsuit, it won’t be about accountability, it will be purely about revenge. And it won’t wipe away the humiliation of his own conviction or incarceration. Kwitcher bitchin’!
I thank you for the privilege of your time.
Cohen had better have made intelligent investments in whatever money he made because he will not be earning a living practicing law and his notoriety will make it unlikely he’ll get hired in any capacity anywhere.
As long as Trump ends up in prison, I don’t care how he gets there.