Every morning, as I choke down a spoonful of existential dread with my coffee, I can't help but question the meaning of life. And today, former President Donald J. Trump threw me a lifeline with his latest remarks about electric vehicles (EVs) leading to a so-called "blood bath." The imagery! So vivid, just like my recurring dreams of being attacked by angry toasters.
Trump's got it out for EVs. In a budding Shakespearean tragedy, he's cast them as the villain, whispering sweet nothings of doom about how they'll "kill" the auto industry. It's a murder mystery, and EVs are holding the bloody wrench.
His fiery rhetoric sparks a strange joy in me, much like how a lightning bolt might tickle a kite. Trump envisions a 100 percent tariff on EVs that roam too far from home, saying, "And you’re not going to be able to sell those cars." A statement as charged as my therapist's hourly rates—and just as effective at rapidly draining precious resources.
But honestly, the blood bath analogy might just be a metaphor for my social life post-pandemic. Do EVs have friends? Or do they, too, dream of dying alone in a closed garage, emissions-free?
In conclusion, let's raise a glass to EVs and tariffs and to the question of whether any of it really charges up the meaning of our existence. And remember, folks, just like an electric car battery, we don't last forever—so plug into life while you can. Speaking of plugging in, did you hear the one about the EV that went to a party? It died alone in the parking lot, never finding an outlet. Classic.
Based on the original article "Trump’s Violent Language Toward EVs".
