Watch Trump Court The Terminally-Ill Vote

What in the holy hell is happening here?

“I don’t care how sick you are.  I don’t care if you just came back from the doctor, and he gave you the worst possible prognosis—meaning, it’s over.  You won’t be around in two weeks.  Doesn’t matter.  Hang out until November 8th.  Get out and vote.  And then, all we’re going to say is, we love you and we’ll remember you always.”

I assume this was meant as in jest; I guess it was an attempt at humor.  Some say tragedy plus time equals comedy, but no one has ever said, a direct reference to imminent death equals comedy.

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