Hey, USA Freedom Kids! Like a lot of people, I saw that video of you performing “The Official Donald Trump Jam” at his campaign rally in Florida this week. Looks like you guys have got a hit on your hands! For those who haven’t seen it yet, check it out:
You know, there’s gonna be a lot of eyeballs on you girls from here on out, so as someone who very nearly majored in theater and could have if I had wanted to, I wanted to send along some constructive criticism to make sure that your future performances are as tight and polished as possible!
Very cute. Very wholesome. Very Americana. It looks like someone hand-sewed three “My Size Barbie” dresses out of baseball stadium bunting. But red, white, and blue can be a little “broad” sometimes. Democrats, moderates, Rand Paul and his kooky gang of Kentucky hermits — they’re all technically Americans, too. Is there is an outfit that will let everyone know just what kind of “America” you’re going for? Statue of Liberty holding a Bible? Maybe three lil’ Nancy Regans? Or maybe we keep the dresses and have you all open carry? I say this because there is no room for vagueness in the theater, ladies. Only Cats could pull it off. No one knows what the fuck Cats is about, but they kept going back. And I hate to break it to you, but you’re no Cats.
So it sounds like we decided to lip sync to a recorded track for this gig, correct? That’s OK. Your daddy probably got y’all horse screaming at people going into a mosque yesterday. But if we’re gonna lip sync at least try to convince me that you’re singing. Because right now, it feels like I’m watching a ventriloquist act made up of living “American Girl” dolls. And why does the little one sometimes speak with the voice of a thousand children? It’s creepy, ladies. And we don’t want creepy. We want fun. We want cute. We want to get as far away from “possessed” as possible.
Did someone come in and gerrymander your blocking, girls, because this stage picture is lopsided! But seriously, we have to be careful, because our staging tells a story. Everyone is thinking, “Who is the girl on the left? Why is she all alone? Does she represent Trump, strong, powerful, and hitting a growth spurt, singlehandedly taking on all those those liberal crybaby morons who are trying to drive this country into the gutter? Or did she just fart in the car on the way to the rally and now no one wants to stand next to her?” What I’m saying is that if you don’t give us the answers, girls, the audience will start to invent them.
Now, I’m sure the runny-pile-of-horseshit that you called “staging” came about because some campaign aid threatened to drown your dog if you blocked the Trump sign on the podium, but name visibility isn’t a concern for me in this situation. As soon as we see three little girls on stage singing about dealing swift death to “enemies of freedom” in front of a crowd of white people that look like they’ve got one foot in the grave, we know that this is a Trump rally. So let’s go ahead and find our marks.
First of all, let me say how brave it is of you girls to be performing so soon after you all had double knee replacements. Oh? What’s that? You’re all perfectly healthy little girls? Then how about we get. the. fucking. lead. out. You think we’re gonna make America great again with sloppy step-touches? You think we can do a couple of half-assed bops and a few noodle-armed finger wags and Obamacare is magically gone? You think we’re going to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies with a bunch of limp-wristed salutes? Well, in case you girls needed a little reminder, here’s a little video from North Korea of exactly what you’re up against:
I just shit my bloomers, ladies. Look at the skill. The precision. The synchronicity. God help us if those nimble little fingers ever get themselves around enough enriched uranium because we’re absolutely fucked. This video makes you girls look as coordinated and lively as three chickens in a kiddie pool full of gravy.
And girl on the right, you’re late every time and I know you know that.
Lyrics and Music
Wow. Where to start? When we throw out both verse structure and rhyme scheme, we’re already climbing uphill, you know? I’m not going to go through it all, because most of this just sounds like someone transcribed the ramblings of Clint Eastwood in the middle of a nasty Iwo Jima fever dream and set it to a GarageBand dance loop, but I wanted to touch on a couple of trouble spots:
When Freedom rings—
Answer the call!
On your feet!
Stand up tall!
Freedom’s on our shoulders.
Freedom is on our shoulders? I thought freedom was just on the phone a second ago? Did he call us just because he wants a piggyback ride?
Enemies of Freedom
Face the music
Come on, boys — take ‘em down!
‘Cause the Donald Trump knows how
To make America great
Deal from strength or get crushed every time…
You know, poetry is all about economy of language; saying so much with only a few words. With that in mind, blatantly telling the world that we want to bomb them to hell kinda falls flat for me.
Oh, say can you see
It’s not so easy
But we have to stand up tall and answer Freedom’s call
Is Freedom calling for another piggyback ride? Why the hell does Freedom want so many piggyback rides?
It’s attitude, it’s who we are
Stand up tall…
OK, so we’ve said a lot here, but I still don’t know exactly what “Ameri-tude” is. “American pride?” “Attitude?” All I’m getting is this image of a pizza-eating eagle on a skateboard, before I’m being told to “stand up tall” for some reason. If it’s because Freedom wants to piggyback again, I’m going to flip my shit.
We’re the red, white, and blue
Fiercely free, that’s who!
Our colors don’t run, no sirree…
I thought we were “Ameri-tude?” Now we’re red, white, blue, and fiercely free? Where did that rad eagle go? I liked him.
OK, that’s all I’ve got for now. You’re welcome for the notes, Freedom Kids. Us performers have to look out for each other.