Some years ago I was camping just outside Venice near a little village called Jesolo. As we got out the car, at our camp site, a rather portly middle-aged man came marching down the gravel roadway towards us. With a look of resolve, clenched hands swung from side to side on bent arms across his chest, while his blubbery belly rippled with each stride. He started yelling at us in his Prussian dialect, whose comprehension fell beyond the boundaries of my German language. He was upset that we had stirred-up the dust along the gravel road.
Reporting the incident to some friends later on, as we sipped our beer, my cousin said of the man der schrie wie ein Jochgeier (he screamed like Jochgeier). I had never heard of this bird called a Jochgeier, so I had no idea of the sound or nature of such a scream. I can only imagine something loud and shrill. Note Jochgeier is directly translated as “Yoke Vulture” although it might also be a “Bearded Hawk”, which sounds more appealing to me.
Trump, in his past campaign, currently, and no doubt in future ones, rhymes his shrill narrative of fake: fake news, fake [Muller] investigation; fake election results; fake electors. Everything is fake.
Including all those claims of fakeness.
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