Staff Reports
The latest escapade surrounding former President Donald Trump veers deeper into the surreal realm of political extremism, featuring an alleged assassin who appeared more interested in securing a GoPro moment than actually adhering to the rudimentary etiquette of political disagreement. Ryan Wesley Routh took it upon himself to wait on the golf green in West Palm Beach, armed with an AK-style rifle, all while documenting what he probably thought would be a viral video. Fortunately, the Secret Service was not impressed and promptly intervened after spotting his weapon through the bushes. One can only imagine Routh’s disappointment—perhaps he envisioned his infamy, but not like this.
Routh’s background reads like an unfortunate compilation of poor decisions—he has a criminal record that seems almost mythical considering its breadth. As investigations unfold, one wonders if any FBI agent thought to pop out of a nearby shrub to inform the world that Routh had been on their radar. It’s a familiar script: another troubled individual has fan-bladed their way through a series of misadventures, with federal watchdogs enjoying a leisurely game of catch-up. Perhaps it should come as no surprise that this character was previously interviewed by The New York Times, where he somehow managed to convince them of his status as a sophisticated activist with knowledge of Ukraine.
Second attempted assassination of Donald Trump: What we know so far
A pro-Kiev activist allegedly brought a Kalashnikov assault rifle to the former US president’s golf coursehttps://t.co/P749JEuuQV pic.twitter.com/YdHFMFxi7y
— RT (@RT_com) September 16, 2024
In a twist that could only denote the dizzying incompetence learned at the throne of the liberal media, Routh had been given a platform to express his views about the ongoing war in Ukraine. Before he turned his aspirations toward a political assassination, he was busy plotting his proud contributions to the cause. His conversations about recruiting former Afghan soldiers involved in the conflict sounded straight out of a bad action movie, possibly leading one to question why he wasn’t simultaneously writing a screenplay for Hollywood.
This wannabe assassin’s frustrations about Ukraine’s bureaucratic appointments of foreign fighters are laughably ironic. While he seemed keen on raising his profile as a “foreign volunteer,” Routh’s real intentions seemed more along the lines of establishing a makeshift foreign legion of his own. Yet, in a surprising turn of events, those hopes crashed against the hard wall of Ukraine’s bureaucratic red tape, much to his chagrin. Maybe if he had spent less time dreaming up illegal movements and more time meeting real veterans of the battlefield, things might have turned out better for him.
Routh’s attempt to recruit Afghan soldiers—complete with shady passport deals—seemed less like a tired film reel and more like the riveting plot of a low-budget thriller. However, rather than gaining traction, it quickly became clear that his connections to Washington’s glitterati and the notable absence of any legal authority would leave him as nothing more than a solitary figure in a detailed dossier of political oddballs. His fame as a supposed resistance fighter crumpled under the weight of his actions, raising suspicions about an even more pressing need for scrutiny.
As the dust settles, the double standard of media treatment becomes glaringly evident. The liberal press is dedicating far too much energy to downplaying Routh’s intentions, insisting his motives remain unclear. Yet, as evidenced by his own words and the proclamations from his increasingly dubious family, Routh’s views against Trump were anything but ambiguous. The more these “mysteries” unfold, the clearer it becomes: the looming specter of political violence cannot be camouflaged behind claims of neutrality or confusion. For the media to pretend otherwise feels nearly as farcical as Routh’s botched plan to “make a statement.”
